The moment I fluttered my eyes, I was an entirely different creature, small and innocent, a human baby. A woman was sleeping beside me, the one who was supposed to be my mother. She looked peaceful. I scented jasmine from her golden hair, her olive skin warm against mine, giving me some sense of security. I must admit I loved the feeling. I opened my mouth to say something, but when I did, only a small cry was out. The woman’s eyes snapped open, revealing a pair of ethereal blue orbs. She smiled, wrinkles formed at the corners of her eyes.

“She’s awake, Julian!” she called her husband. A man in his early thirties strode toward us; his eyes and hair were chestnut, a typical trait shared by most townsfolk. His body seemed to be made of hard muscles, which lay beneath the folds of his white tunic. The man beamed, flashing white teeth. He was strikingly handsome for a countryman.

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“Our daughter has your eyes, Amora,” Julian said, stroking my head gently with his calloused hands. I liked the way he caressed me. The aura radiated from him made me feel utterly safe.

“What name will ever go with her?” asked Amora as she toyed with my little hands. I gripped hers with my wobbling fingers, laughing quietly. She guffawed, made her look even more beautiful. Julian crossed his arms, his brows furrowed.

“Silana Zephyr,” he said after a while. His wife chortled.

“I love that name,” Amora replied, “as I love everything about you.” She kissed her husband’s cheek briefly.

Silana Zephyr draped over me like a veil, shrouding my true name, and my true self.