A long vacation in limbo
The most recent encounter with the drive was the same as it ever was. Until, of course, the new bit of memories that were restored to mind came into thought.
There was the same red-haired woman as last time, holding a child, whose hair was somewhere between the deep red of her own, and Dorian's black. It almost seemed like the child was born with black hair highlighted with red streaks. The boys eyes were brown. His stare was intent. How could one so young have such a stare?
Unlike before, where just the woman's name and appearance came to recollection, there was vastly more this time. This time, he knew who she was. And who knew who the child was. And yet, it was still not so simple as that.
"His name shall be Tama," Fitting, a "flower" born unto a woman who in certain circles was called Ivy and dealt heavily with magic related to Nature.
"Surely, the other children shall tease him, for having such an effeminate name," Dorian complained.
"It won't keep him down."
"How can you know? What if that teasing makes him doubt himself. He could wind up a shy and fearful boy unwanting to take any chances at all in fear of whatever rebuke people might offer in response."
"He'll have your endurance. And my drive."
"You mean your stubbornness."
"And if he has his father's wits, he'll also have a red ass."
But that was only one memory, one part of the whole of the memory of the boy. There was the passing of time. There was an older version of the boy, still a child, but not an infant. There was the child being taught, by Dorian, by Kain ... -- Who was Kain? The name was just there, but there was no context as to who he was. Dorian's eyes lingered for a moment on the letter "K" imprinted upon the hilt of his sword. Did the K in AKSN refer to Kain? If it did, who were the other people? Who was A? Who was S? Who was N? Nightmist... -- and then there was Vayne's teaching. Another name he did not recall to whom it belonged. Nevertheless, from all of the people the name Nightmist belonged, Tama learned how to handle a sword in combat, how to handle a sword and other weapons in smithing, how to wield magic, and finally, he learned about all sorts of other creatures that existed throughout the breadth of Arvandor.
Having a son was a treasure, but Dorian could not feel it. Was he a horrible person? Why did he not feel unconditional love while remembering his own flesh and blood? What would Rosa think of him? His hand went immediately to the ring hanging from a silver chain around his neck. The stone represented her, he knew it. But was it her wedding band? Or was it some other memento of her? Where was she? Where was Tama? Were they ok without him?
The imposed reverie was not done there, for no sooner had he asked himself the question, than he had the answer. Back in time his mind flashed, to when Tama was an infant again. It was only moments after the child was born that the conversation regarding his name was had, but in the moments to follow...
Rosa was gone. Her body lay lifeless on the table, the mess of childbirth not even cleaned up yet, the child resting in Dorian's arms, and Rosa... dead.
And when Dorian awoke, the drive lay in pieces, Dorian huddled around a piece of warped and bent metal, his breath expelling from his lungs in heaves and torrents. The ring had escaped his clothing, but still hung on the chain as it dangled over the ground. He stared at it, and looked around at the mess he had made here. And all he could think about was... was he the reason there was a mess back there, in his memories?
One mother dead, the father did yell. And for the life of the child, all was deemed a hell. But the child did rebuke, and one day did slay the father.
Then one day, when that child was a father himself, the mother did die. And as the once child, now father, looked into the eyes of his own child, he did wonder.
"Shall I condemn this child, and myself, to the same fate?"
One mother's blood was not enough, hmm? said the new voice in his head.
This space is full already, and there is no room for another. bellowed the recognized voice of Jinn.
Dorian whimpered. "Have I not suffered enough?"
But apparently he had not. And when he had already named one voice Jinnzou Ningen, Artificial Human, how could he come up with another name that was not the same. And so, though Jinn would still be recognized, there came new names. Now, there was the Sinister Snake, the Dastardly Dragon, and the Whimpering Wolf.
