Title: Unanswerable Questions

Summary: Merriman happens upon a rather disturbing train of thought: Just where /did/ he come from, anyway? oneshot

Words: 744

Disclaimer: I am not Susan Cooper. Thus, this certainly isn't mine.

Notes: Um… just something that occurred to me the other day, and I've written bits of it at different times, generally between classes. I've not really done much editing, so do forgive any inconsistencies, though don't hesitate to point 'em out! Please leave me a review! Thanks!

The Story:

Merriman Lyon sat at his ease before a roaring fire, basking in the warmth, his mind elsewhere. It frequently was, for such was the nature of an Old One's mind, especially his – the oldest mind of the oldest Old One.

But on this day, his mind was particularly far away, resting, dwelling upon the distant past, as he strove to recall just how he'd begun his time as an Old One. Normally, when Merriman sought to conjure up ancient memories, it took only a few seconds, if that, for him to bring the specific recollection to mind, but for whatever reason, this sequence of memory had proved considerably more troubling to retrieve.

Try as he might, Merriman could not quite stretch his memory back so far… and this troubled him. It troubled him greatly.

All subsequent Old Ones remembered well their first days spent imbued with the knowledge, their first experimentations with their powers, their learning of Gramarye. But not Merriman. He could remember none of that, though he could remember far. He could neither recall a human family into which he'd been born, nor could he recall the faintest impression of a mother or a father.

And this made him wonder. Where was his beginning? How had he ever learned of what he was? Or… had he been born that way, knowing of the power he held and was part of? Had he ever had that short time all members of the Light have, where they may choose (whether they realize they have it or not) their path, whether to submit and be entirely of the Light or to resist?

Had he ever had a childhood? A family?

The more he thought about it, the more he thought not… but… he had to have. Hadn't he?

If he hadn't, well… this train of thought brought up uncomfortable ideas and questions. Had he just spontaneously appeared, stepping into the world out of the Light? Or had he been made to forget his once held humanity?

As the distinct unease settled over Merriman, he shivered and scooted his chair closer to the fire, leaning forward and resting his elbows upon his knees – as if by bringing himself closer to the heat he might dispel his agitation. Of course, this was unsuccessful, and he at last resorted to pacing back and forth upon the rug. Unfortunately, this, too, was ineffective, and his mind continued to circle around the questions, still arriving at no answer.

"Why?" he cried, at last throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Why can't I remember?"

"Remember what?" a soft voice – a woman's voice – inquired from the doorway.

Merriman turned to behold The Lady standing there, her whole demeanor exuding an air of tranquility. "… Greetings, my lady," he said, bowing slightly to her in greeting.

She inclined her head in recognition, but remained where she was. "Remember what?" she asked, again.

Sighing, Merriman turned back to the fire, his expression particularly brooding. "I don't know. Something – anything! – from my youth… from before I came into my power as an Old One."

The Lady entered the room, coming to stand next to him. She looked up into his hooded eyes, smiling slightly. "Does it really matter so much?"

"Yes! Well… no, not really, but I do not like not knowing."

"Of course not – no one does. But isn't it, perhaps, better not knowing?"

He blinked, disbelieving.

"Truly," she continued, "if you knew, would you not dwell on it unceasingly and regain long lost attachment to your place of origin, when you are required to have no attachments?"

Merriman remain silent. The Lady, in the face of his quiet, put a hand gently upon his shoulder, her smile turning slightly bitter, now.

"I know," she said, a slight half-laugh in her voice. "Not the answer you were looking for, right? All I'm doing is telling you the rationalizations I've made to myself over the very same questions. In the end, I just tell myself that the not knowing is minor in comparison to my duties… and in the end, I suppose that's all that I can tell myself."

"Duty." Merriman closed his eyes, shaking his head. "It always comes back to duty. That is our lot, though, isn't it?"

"Mm," the Lady agreed. "So it is… so it is."

End

A/N: Odd place to end, I know, but… 'twas the best place I could come up with.

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