"We should've told you," father said, although I wasn't sure if I should call him father anymore. Mother stood to grab something out of the bedroom. "We had always wanted a son, but..." he trailed off.
I sat in silence, hurt and confused. Nothing was said until mother came back.
"These were yours," She said, handing me a folded shirt with a dog tag sitting atop it, along with a small trunk. Inside the trunk was a set of light leather armor, which had been re-polished. "This was your uniform. No use in keeping the trousers, they were torn up." I examined the dog tags. Larson. Jon Larson. Not Jon Geary. Larson. Jonothan L. Larson.
"Who were those men?" I asked once I put together that I had been in the Lirault Militia.
"They were coming to kill you for deserting," Mr. Geary said sullenly.
"One more thing," Mrs. Geary dug a silver ring out of her pocket and presented it to me, her hands shaking slightly. I plucked it slowly out of her hand and slid it on. It sort of clicked into place like a custom-fitted glove. My breath suddenly became short and I stood abruptly, sending my chair to the ground. I left the uniform and dog tag on the kitchen table where we had been sitting and attempted to make my way upstairs to the bathroom. My vision became blurry and my head spun as the wooden floor creaked under my weight. I reached the top, but my foot fell too early and I slipped halfway back down the stairs, my head cracking against the wall as I fell.
* * *
Dark.
Light.
Woman. Wife.
Baby, not yet.
House, message.
Sadness, anger, fear.
Can't go back. Anger.
Pain, wandering, lost.
Hungry, thirsty.
Light.
Dark.
* * *
I left before the Geary's woke in the morning. I still had some sort of love for them, but I didn't feel that I needed to say goodbye. They had let me forget and lied to me. They didn't deserve a proper parting message.
I remembered; there were no names, not yet. But I remembered. My wife, my home. It was the town and the voice in my dream. She kept calling my name as I limped down the dirt road to the town. All I had in my bag was my uniform, dog tags, a small amount of food, and some coin I had been saving.
I paid a man whom I encountered on the road to take me to the next town over in his hay wagon. I remembered her name as we traveled. Emilie. I also remembered my address. I would be there soon and finally see her again, meet my child, go back to my life.
My life.