The last thing I remembered was my mom's smiling face, turning to horror as the air itself split open... And then everything was gone. 

The next thing I knew, I was in a blank void with some... Thing... Examining me like some interesting toy.

"Ah!" The Thing spoke, noticing me come to. "Hello there, human!" Its voice sounded blank, unlike anything I'd ever heard. No color, no life. I could certainly believe that the Thing wasn't human. Sure, it looked like it, pale skin, four limbs, clothes... But it wasn't. There was just something off about it, something decidedly NOT human. And that voice...

Naturally, I decide to insult it. "Who the hell are you, and why am I here?" I demanded, voice cracking as my mind whirls. "I was having dinner with my mom! The one time I get to have dinner with her a month!"

The not-human cocked its head at me. "Oh? I thought you humans liked being transported to other worlds." It says, holding up... Oh God, is that an isekai? Seriously? I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down from the panic attack I feel coming on.

Akhat... 

The not-human notices my consternation, and smiles in a deeply uncomfortable way. "Oh? Is that not true? A shame, I was hoping to have you willingly be my demiurge."

My concentration breaks, my head snaps up, and I begin to curse in Hebrew.

"Chay be'seret!" I snap. "Delusional! You think I'll accept becoming your servant when you rip me from my home!?"

The not-human tut-tuts at me. "Ah... That full mind of yours is not suited for this. Let's just make some room, shall we...?"

And then my head splits open, and I scream.

I wake up, some time later, staring, horrified, at the not-human in front of me. "What did you DO!? My- My name! What's my name!? You took away my name!"

The thing tilts its head. "You didn't need that," it replies calmly. "Now, onto more pressing matters."

I open my mouth to speak, and It waves a hand, my voice no longer coming to me as I try, and fail, to curse it out. 

"I said, onto more pressing matters." It sighs. "You would know me as a god, I believe. You are now my messenger in a different world; Normally I would have no interest, but it seems the other gods are pushing for a Trial... And so I must pick a contestant. You got selected for... No real reason. You will speak for me on this new planet, and you will have power beyond compare/ Now, any questions?" And I can speak again.

"Frayer! Frayer, frayer, frayer!" I spit, no longer knowing what the word means. Just that it's a very bad insult, and that's all that I need. "Not my god! You took my name, my memories! What did my family look like? Why can't I remember?" I quickly dissolve into weeping hysterics at the last words, the anger infusing me vanishing as soon as it came.

"I-I..." The words stick in my throat. 

"Good! No questions!" The god says, clapping happily. "Now... You don't need the memories of this chat, do you? No? Good, let's get started."

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And without another word, I vanish once more in a whirl of fire and pain.

My eyes slowly blink open. Everything looks... Wrong. Why is it so bright? I was somewhere else, before, I know that... But where?

A gentle voice breaks through my reverie, speaking in a gentle, flowing tongue I don't recognize. The only word I can find purchase on is what must be a name... Cassopeia. Is that my name? No, it's wrong. I know that, with bone-deep certainty. But it's better than going nameless... A worried face comes into view. An old, bearded man, dressed like some sort of... Rabbi? What's a rabbi? 

The face speaks again, that flowing tongue worming its way into my ears. Somehow, I can recognize it, somewhat...

"Cassopeia? Young one?" The worried man says. His voice sounds... Green. "Are you alright?"

All I can think about is how he looks thankfully human... Unlike something else that I can't quite place.

I try and speak, but notice two things- First, my voice sounds red. Not just red, but bloody red, the color of slaughter. Second, my words are harsh and guttural, almost cruel, compared to the flowing voice of the old man. His face twists in shock, then more worry.

"Cassopeia? What happened? You were eating dinner with us-" Another face enters my vision, an equally-worried old woman, "-And you just went blank for a second. And now you are speaking in tongues nobody has heard... Are you alright, my daughter?"

Daughter. I almost laugh at the word, and at the cruel irony of this scene, but I don't understand either the importance of the word or the irony. Instead, something pushes me to turn my palm up, and I do so, distantly curious about why my body is moving when it shouldn't. There, marked on the inside of my wrist, is a twisting, inked mark that looks like a tiny character in some language I no longer recognize. The old man and old woman don't seem to see it, as whispers start up in my mind, blacker than black.

Are you alright? Who are you, 'Little One'? The whisper mocks. You are nothing. You have no name, no memories... Who is your family?

My mind goes to the people in front of me, but no... They are not my family. Next, my mind jumps to one of the few scattered memories I have- Faceless figures, smiling at me, love in their eyes. But then as soon as I see them, they vanish... Leaving me both more empty than before, and sure that something is wrong. This is not my home. This is not me.

The old man speaks again in his flowing, green voice. "You're quiet, Cassopeia. Do you need to go lay down for a bit? I know headaches can be painful."

I nod mutely and excuse myself from the wooden table, somehow knowing exactly where my room is. I enter it... A blank wall, nothing on it, and a bed are the only decorations. It looks like something from a fantasy world, my mind blurts out. What's a fantasy world?

I collapse on the bed, staring at the blank wall, head hurting. The black whispers start up again.

What's wrong, 'Little One'? Does your head hurt, split open with the burden of knowledge? What will you do now, 'Little One'? I can't wait to see.

I ignore the whispers, sorting through my turbulent memory. Faceless figures, a different life, something decidedly not-human, and then... Emptiness.

"Yimakh shemo," I whisper to myself as I begin to cry. May his name be erased.