But, I have no idea who. There is a planet called Earth, with one sun and one moon. That isn’t where I live. How am I sure? Two suns and two moons rotate across my sky. The name of this planet is Kelari. My home is in a cave at the base of a mountain peak. From its entrance I can peer further down the mountain, over the tops of lush green trees, and dense foliage, all the way to the cerulean waters of the sea. It’s always warm, and humid. Sometimes stiflingly so. On Earth, I know there are forests, deserts, high mountains and deep bodies of water. There are animals, insects, and birds. The name of every species, every creature, is somehow known to me, as is all of Earths’ history. Every color, every shade, every hue—from robin’s egg blue to periwinkle—can be pulled from my mind. How I know these things, where I was born, and who my parents are, remain unknown. I’ve never seen anyone on this planet similar to me, but I’d recognize a human if I saw one.
