I guess everyone harbors unanswered questions that plague them on their sleepless nights. I had tumbled mine about my head many times over the years, especially when I started school with the other village children who tormented and ostracized me for my unknown parentage. They flaunted their namesakes, bragging in front of me about how some ancestor of theirs had done this or that. Nice, if you can drum up that kind of history. I wasn’t sure how the kids thought they could take the credit for someone a hundred years ago, no matter what he’d done.
In fact, I found it strange that many in the village blamed me for my lack. It wasn’t like I’d chosen such a beginning. If I’d had any say in the matter, I would have asked for parents and a home that didn’t rotate every six months. I’d have wanted to be given a last name and a heritage. Grandparents would have been nice, as well as aunts, uncles, and cousins. Maybe even a brother or sister, or even a bunch of siblings. Family. I’d never known what that was like. I’d always been an outsider peeking in through the window of what others had.
I walked down to the brook and washed my face. Enough whining for what I didn’t have. I was lucky. I’d been given a prize that no one in the village had. Two, in fact. I had my best friend, Frey, and I had the freedom to choose my life. I could go anywhere I wanted. And someday, I would find a family and make myself part of a whole instead of just looking through the window of what I’d really, really like to have.