Again, I was transferred to the world of my memories.
This transient sensation of my thoughts colliding while my mind appears to float in a domain of emptiness… it wasn't new to me; it had been like this since the day I was born. I remember every thought, every action I've ever made since the day my brain was formed within my mother's womb, down to the smallest detail. These inconsequential things, such as "the sort of grass I walked on yesterday," "the form of the rock I kicked a month ago," or even just subtle thoughts of no significance, this recollection doesn't exist within the mind of a normal person. The cost of truly remembering those things that would fill and damage the average person's memory, were my dreams. I lacked the creative and curious senses that most people are born with, the adventure of a fantasy that children experience, or even the adults who chase that nostalgia through things like inventions and literature. I had no concept of what the term "fun" meant, and my dreams reflected that meaning. My dreams, which would ordinarily reflect one's imagination, were substituted with memories.
I let myself collapse into tonight's recollection with a single mental sigh. If I'm lucky, i'll never wake up from it this time.
~
I was tenderly carried and placed between the comfort of my mother's quivering arms, dark, chilly, and emotional; feeling her warmth and the soft beat of her heart, I opened my heavy eyelids.
I blinked. Within this dream, it appeared that my consciousness had finally given shape; my eyes were finally rolling around and taking in my surroundings. Looking around I got a good grasp of what memory this was, my first breath. This undeniably small body, my erratic movements, and the genuine smile wrapped across my face told me everything I needed to know.
My gaze shifted to the planet my childish body was seeing for the first time; the surroundings were not idyllic, nor was it the joyous day many Astral users remembered their first day to be. At the outset of my own existence, I was robbed of the ephemeral sense of surprise and awe that most children have until the age of six. Even the bleak gray surroundings in which most adults lived had little sympathy for the burden I'd been given.
I saw the shades and shapes of how the room looked and the things in it, but that was the limit of my vision. The world was black, darker, and a much more vile shade than even my own mother's insides were. My juvenile mind flew into overdrive, panicked by his world's unease; my innate instincts screamed at me all at once, shouting, "There's supposed to be something!" Even though I couldn't form my thoughts at the time, I felt something wasn't right; I knew I was different in some way.
"He has beautiful eyes, ma'am." A voice whispered over to my mom.
My gaze was drawn to the beautiful woman who was embracing me so tenderly. My senses expected to see her, and I wanted to see her. The beauty and comfort of their own parent's face should have been the first thing a child should have received when they were born. I glared at her, and for the first time, I saw colors; a magnificent form of what I soon learned to be the color blue, bending like a type of energy or perhaps even an unquenchable flame. This was the genuine shape of my mother; her soul, a vivid and fascinating concept to all of humanity, I could sense it deep inside my own heart.
I flailed my arms in front of me like an animal, screaming for her to pay more attention to me. The lovely blue light within her charmed my childish eyes, and I yearned to be closer to it, to cling to it for all eternity. My mother's soul had been the closest thing to perfection I had ever seen in this world of black I was born into. She brought my small body closer to her belly and caressed the top of my head as if it were the most delicate thing in the world when she observed my attempts. As the gray colors of her pupils crept into mine, her mouth twisted into a lovely grin, I lay there staring.
"His blue eyes flow ceaselessly like a torrent of water, almost glowing like a lightning bug even in this dark room." Her eyes narrowed at me slightly, revealing the essence of my star-struck pupils. "He will surely become the best of us."
"My, from the strongest herself?" My Mother's comment was mocked by the man's voice in the background. "Even if not a single Sage who has lived thus far has killed a single Ravager?" I find it difficult to imagine that just because he has pretty eyes, he can save us from this unavoidable fate."
"No, I can tell. He will be blessed with all four of the Natural Blessings; our clan will never have seen such a powerful leader." she caressed the top of my forehead, moving aside the tiny four hairs I had upon birth.
"Really now?" The man backed down from his cocky demeanor. "Then what shall you name this leader?"
My mother's gaze interrupted any thoughts I had about my name. Even a thousand years later, the sensation of her glare would never leave me.
If anything out of the archive of thousands of people I've met, I knew for sure, this was my greatest memory.
"Indra."
Her smile was the last thing I remembered before waking up.
~