The sharp scent of grass tickled Todor's nostrils as he righted himself. Ezezu stood next to him, her appearance slightly changed from the wild furs, leathers and dreadlocks she once sported. Now she looked much more noble, even though a hint of fury and wildness clung to her as if it was part of who she was. She was wearing the dark brown armor with rust red details, she held a sickle-like bronze sword loosely in her palm while another identical blade was hanging on the small of her back.

Todor looked around himself and gasped. As far as his eyes could see stretched the grassy plains. Green sea sprawled from horizon to horizon, gently swaying on a wind. His eyes climbed up where he could see the sky unobscured by the darkness that shrouded. The gloom was replaced by the light that had no source. He took a long breath and turned to Ezezu. Her dark skin was a stark contrast to his paleness. Even if I do go outside, I still spend a lot more of my time indoors, he mused, vaguely amused by the random thought.

"What now, Miss Book?" Todor said slowly. "How do I learn my True Name?"

"This place, it's a region of pure thought. Every stray musing, every random pondering ends up here, somewhere," she said kneeling and touching the blades of grass. "True Name is a function of forces in this realm. When you were born people around you had thoughts concerning you, that molded into a Name. With their own minds, they gave you the name without even knowing. It's a great sink for every genius inspiration and every moronic notion."

"It's just ... fields of grass," Todor said, unimpressed.

"Is that what you see? Grab one strand of it and try to eat it," she dared him.

Todor's eyebrow rose in question, but the only answer he got from the spirit was an iron melting glare. He shrugged and snapped the closest plant and stuffed it into his mouth. Before the mutilated flora reached his tongue he got overwhelmed with a potent cocktail of feelings. Fear, rage, hate vying for control, while anxiety, insecurity, weariness got sidelined in the tornado that made thinking hard, almost impossible. Through it all, one single vain pulsed, the intent of murder. Todor gasped and somehow managed to shed away from it all, falling on his knees next to Ezezu.

"Was it something bad?" she said gently. It was the timidest tone her heard from her. All though, admittedly, I saw her only a few minutes ago for the first time.

"I felt someone's will to kill," he said flatly. She winced.

"I am sorry. I hated my father his teaching method. He would force people to learn by pushing them to figure out everything by themselves. And here I am doing the same," she said through gritted teeth, her grip on a sickle sword tightening. It is like she is forced to feel rage and anger all the time. Todor thought as he looked at her.

"Nothing to be sorry about. I will probably ask many stupid questions that to you are as normal and as logical as breathing," Todor said slowly. She chuckled.

"You are not my first jailer. I had many over the years. But most of them couldn't handle it. They didn't have that ... rage against the universe. They all died in a few hours, consumed by the emotions that were not theirs. It is strange that you have the same fire in you," she stopped, her voice strained and body tense. "But you understand, the feeling of losing your entire world. That was what pulled me to you."

At that moment Todor understood this angry ghost that was tied to his mind. The same feelings that blossomed in him were mirrored by this spirit from long ago. The will to bring a piece of your Old World into this new and strange land. To make sure all the people you lost are not forgotten and will live through you and your creations. Todor put his palm on the girl's shoulders and her eyes rose to meet his. She smiled with such innocent air about her Todor returned the grin without even registering it.

"I am glad you survived our bonding. We might even succeed and make a warlock out of you," she said flashing another grin. "Alright Soul brother, next steps are all on you. You will learn your name or your mind will die in this place."

"Well, that is reassuring," Todor said glibly. "So, how do I do it? If all this grass is thoughts of all the people living and dead, it would be impossible to find things they thought when I was a baby."

Ezezu smiled, her pearly white teeth sharpened.

"You see, every thought ever had is here, similar thoughts group together, like those magnets I glimpsed inside of your head."

"Same magnetic poles are repulsed, not attracted to each other," Todor said, wincing at his need to be pedantic, but Ezezu just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. So, all the emotions and thoughts that were aimed at you are grouped at the same place."

"That leaves us with an endless field to search for a ... a cluster of thoughts and emotions connected to me."

Ezezu dropped her sword and it vanished into nothingness.

"Listen, the same way you listened to me before, when that mind imp tried to eat you," she said looking at him.

"That was an imp? That huge thing?" Todor said aghast.

"Well, it might have been a mind demon, I just felt it through our bond," she shrugged, "That is not important. Focus and listen with your mind."

Todor sighed and tried to listen with his mind. Whatever that means, he grumbled to himself. Suddenly the grass around him changed, some lost their color fading into transparency, some regained it's green hue, while others became yellow. Among all of that one lone blade of grass shone red.

"Hmmm, grass changed color, Miss Book," he declared slightly worried.

"Alright, your deep mind is sorting all of the surroundings into the way you can understand. Is anything standing out?"

"Yes, over there is an only red blade of grass."

"Listen. If that is what we really seek, know this. Your true name will be protected by your deep mind. It is a thing we don't want to know, so our mind tries to protect us. Sometimes there are other things that lurk there, things not of our mind," she tried to explain but Todor had trouble understanding.

"Deep mind? As in subconscious mind?" he wagered a guess with a concept he thought he might have understood.

"Yes, that. It is you, but it's you beyond your control," she shook her head. "I wish we had more time for you to train your mind, but there isn't. So whatever task your deep mind sets up for you it is doable. But beware, it will hurt."

"This is all so confusing. Why would my subconscious want to hurt me? It doesn't make any sense," Todor protested. "What else can lurk in my mind that is not of my own mind?"

"Just listen. Stop trying to make any sense here. That is for when you wake up in the real world," she put both of her palms on his shoulders, squarely facing him. "Once you are sucked into the vision, you must finish it or your mind will perish. And since I was so eager to leave my little cage, so will I. Or maybe get tied to a vegetable which is pretty much the same thing."

"Nice pep talk. Do or do not, there is no try," he said trying to calm down.

"Wise words from a wise frogman," Ezezu said nodding sagely.

"Wait, you understood that reference?"

"I am in your mind, fool," Ezezu yelled at him. "Focus. And remember only one thing, stay true to yourself."

"Stay true to me. Got it," he nodded. "Wait, what? What does that even mean?"

He yelped as Ezezu pushed him and he fell on the red plant. Entire grass plain was gone and he got swallowed by the explosion of light. The strobing lights lasted for only a moment before he landed into the chair.

"Well, padded office chair was not what I expected," Todor murmured standing up and glancing around. So far, so good, he thought as he recognized the room he was in. My startup company office. After he graduated he and a few of his friends formed a company. They wanted to make an MMO for new generations by incorporating realistic combat and taking advantage of VR headsets that became popular. They had a sponsor and everything, and preorders were going crazy.

The phone on the table started to vibrate. Todor reached for it and checked the screen. It was an automated text from his bank. Oh, this was when I got paid my share of the profits for the first time. I went to ... The world morphed around him and office vanished. He was now standing next to an ATM machine, two streets from his mother's apartment. After his parents divorced they lived on two opposite sides of the town. His grandpa left him the house when he died so he became a homeowner at sixteen. Which was very helpful considering his university was just a short walk from there. But that forced him to visit his mother and father rarely.

I got money and I went to my mom's, he remembered and the world morphed again. He was standing in front of the door, envelope with money in one hand, the other one hovering over the buzzer. But he couldn't press it, he never could. So he would leave money with a note taped to the door. Why am I seeing this?

But then the door opened and his mother appeared in the doorframe, her eyes glaring at him.

"You came with your bribe again, eh boy?" she said flatly. "You think money is what I wanted from you?"

Todor froze. This never happened. His mind reeled at the image of his mother. I just couldn't say I am sorry that I didn't want to be like my mother or my father. I just wanted to be me, but I could never say that to her. Maybe this is my chance?

"Mom, I ..." he croaked, his voice breaking, "I never thought the world would just snatch me away, rob me of my chance to say I am sorry you felt betrayed. I just wanted to carve my own path."

"Is that so? Are you even my son? If you are then you know I was never one to be swayed with words," she said putting fists on her hips.

"It's true squirt," a voice came from his left. Todor turned and he saw his father sitting on the branch of an old chestnut tree. "She is so bullheaded that she would never say a word of what she really feels."

"My ex-idiot husband speaks the truth," his mother said as her skin turned silver. Todor gasped, stepping back from her. The silver skin morphed into a perfect set of gothic plate armor. She rose her right arm and kriegsmesser sword appeared from thin air. "Now boy, show me how regretful you are that you never spoke to your parents. The big man had to vanish in the middle of the fucking apocalypse."

"You could never avoid the fight, son. That was always so disappointing. You turned into the wild beast, just like your mother," his father said, voice filled with disgust. "Go ahead, respond in kind, fight her."

"I don't know what to do," Todor said as he moved another step back from his mother. She swung the sword in a perfect cutting motion. "I don't want to fight you."

His mother laughed and pressed the attack. Swing after swing. Until his heel caught on the root of the tree and he fell on his back. His mother swung her sword, edge closing.

"I don't have to apologize!" he yelled at her. "I shouldn't apologize at all!"

His words made her stop and tilt her head.

"Is that so? Hell, you are supposed to be the smart one in the family and you can't remember what I told a minute ago," she spat back and swung at him.

He rolled and got on his feet. Spreading his palm a sword materialized there. Just simple longsword, like those he used to train at his HEMA gymnasium. He moved his sword into ox stance parrying the blow from his mother, making the heavier weapon slide alongside his weapon. With a twirl of his wrist, he repurposed the momentum into a quick lounge making his mothers sword went wide to the side.

"I didn't have time to fix things between us, I know. But you were wrong. You had no right to decide what I can and what I can't do," he said reflexively falling into plow stance.

"Enough with words. Show me," she striked out with a blade, "with," swinging again as soon Todor parried, "your sword."

"Fine," Todor said gritting his teeth. He fought as best as he could. No, he fought as he never fought before. Practice he had with Mab paid off now. His mother somehow became as good as any HEMA practitioner he ever saw. When in reality she laughed at him when he said he wanted to train with a sword. Todor smiled at the memory. "You are not real, and I will beat you."

"See, always resorting to violence when words can solve the problem," his father from the tree remarked.

That pushed him into a rage. This is not my mother, this is not my father. This is what I fear they would say if I met them again, and I can't stand it anymore.

His mothers sword swooshed next to his ear as he parried it. Todor reversed the sword grabbing it by the blade and using a cross guard as a mace. He smashed it into the armored neck of his not-mother. Image of the woman reeled back from the blow, falling to her knees. With a practiced switch, he caught his sword in his left hand and lay the edge at her throat.

"I win. 'mother'," he said emphasizing every word. "And you 'father', you were never as pacifistic as you claimed to be. You just wanted me to be a man you never were. Kind and gentle no matter what. But guess what, I am not. I am as violent as my mother, and as kind as you. I am both or none. Different situations require different approaches. Which is why you two always butted heads."

Both images of his father and mother started to laugh.

"Good job, Sanginuon," his mother said.

"Good job, Geistroch," his father said.

The image of his parents turned to red mist and started to swirl into a vortex that Todor could feel. But the world around him started to melt, swallowed by the red tornado. He blinked and the floor became basalt, the dark iron color of the ground spread around him while the sky turned an angry red.