You sit next to Roisin; she seems to be the only one with any compassion for your situation.
"Who am I?" You ask imploringly. "I know my name is Aiden. I know my mother is Ena. I know, now, that both my parents are gone. But who am I? Why does everyone keep asking me what I've dreamed, what I know? Why is Nan angry with me? And--who are we?" You motion my hand toward the others.
“So many questions.” Roisin gives you a sad smile. “You'd been losing memories since a few dreams ago, but I had no idea.... You are Aiden O'Neill, son of Ena Kavanagh and Owen Zachary O'Neill, and one of the Magian kawmpa. We are all Magian Travellers, born true from the line of Irish Fomori—a line older than the gods. Well, all except Micaja, he's still a Half Breed.”
Micaja gives her a stern glare as he helps the others start to gather their plates from a dinner long since over. Bones stripped bare of their meat are tossed into the fire, plates gathered to wash later. The sun is starting to creep above the horizon, and it seems most everyone is overdue for some rest.
“Nan's just angry because we stole a vardo. You said we needed to force the kawmpa in a different direction. You've been dreaming of someone or something coming for us and, if your dreams are anything like your ma's, we should be paying attention.”
- If you ask about your mother and her dreams, go to 43
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"Ok." I say, staring off for a moment. "Ok." I let this information sink in--it "feels" right, but it's as though I'm hearing about someone else's life, not my own. I have no choice to accept what she says as the truth, though.
ReplyDelete"My mother--" I begin, turning to meet Roison's eyes with my own. I realize I'm still holding her hand. "What were her dreams like? What happened to her?"