A/N: This is another oneshot dredged up from my archive, written a few years back. It's one of the few pieces I've written to deal with the Compilation.

The Puzzle of Us

I…

The thought came and went; waking from a deep sleep and slipping quickly back into it, with only a brief moment of perception between oblivion. Other thoughts, words, memories and emotions swirled, through each other and over each other and around each other, such that each was trapped within itself, unable to connect, incapable even of coherence.

I am…

Twice. Twice now that thought had come. That same thought; a rare, rare occurrence. Few spirits that found themselves down here, that found themselves in the swirling void, could awake for long or often.

I…will…

This was wrong. Unnatural. There was no will down here. No must, no want, no can't or shan't; none of those concepts, those forces that made decisions. There was no decision, because this energy belonged to the Planet and no one else.

I will not…

(Where…?)

I cannot…

(…am I?)

Nature died with these words. Twin motives in one flicker of energy. One seeping will that despised the void, latching onto another that had long slept. And now, with cognizance, that first was safe. It collected more energy unto itself, more lives that had intermingled so much that they had lost themselves. Fragments of a hundred different souls came together, brought together by this one powerful will. Fragments from ancient past, fragments from near history, fragments even from a now that passed just moments ago.

I will never…

(What…)

(Where am…)

(What's happening…?)

I will never…I cannot…I am…

(I'm…scared…)

Those flickers of energy coalesced yet further, condensing, becoming whole.

(I…)

(I…)

(We are…are we alive? Why am…)

The thoughts of being many ceased, the souls now so intertwined as to be one, thinking with a single voice. Fragments made whole, a jigsaw of spirit.

(I am…I live…why?)

Because you are my child.

The will that had lit the match to ignite the stars spoke now in a different voice, a softer voice, one it personally had heard in a monumental moment in its own now-hazy past.

You are mine, and I cherish you, my child.

(…I…m-mother?)

This new soul, made of so many parts, latched on to this softer voice within itself, this warm voice, this peaceful voice, this voice full of all of the concepts it should rightly not have known; just as it should not have known what mother meant or why this voice was mother. This new soul perceives an image suddenly, a flash of history, and it opens eyes it does not have and sees a part of the image before it as it raises an impossible arm. Black leather and a pale hand, and all around, emptiness swirling in emerald shades.

Down here, thoughts are words and words are thought, and the thought who am I? reaches out as if to find a mate. Two other thoughts answer with the same words, and before the soul two other forms appear. He knows them to be himself, and himself to be a part of them. He knows they are born from the same mother, and moulded in the same image she holds of a perfect son.

B-brother…

The word flows out from a mind that should not know it. But the soul knows this is the word and the truth of its twins. Their hazy outlines grow solid, and the three become beings for the first time. The igniting will has fallen silent, speaking no more words, but it murmurs at the back of their minds, silently suggesting with pulses that feel more like instinct.

Slowly the three begin to ascend, and they join hands because they know they are one.

And yet…as they breach the surface of this emerald realm, they understand that they are incomplete. That instinct, that quiet murmur at the back of their minds, tells them that they are failing their mother if they do not become whole. Yet the three lost souls know not where to begin the search.

They release each other and climb unsteadily onto the rocky shore. Wisps of green energy still cling to them, dispersing only as a breeze catches them. Suddenly one of the souls finds in its hand a weapon, an elegantly-curved sword with twin blades, one beside the other. As he stares at it he speaks for the first time with his lips, though in truth they are not lips at all, but spiritual energy merely pretending. He speaks as if the weapon itself were talking to him.

'Kadaj…' he says. He hears an echo from his brothers, Yazoo and Loz, and he sees weapons in their hands also. Feeling stronger now, feeling motivated by the instincts that sleep in their minds, they begin their journey to entirety. It is mother's wishes, they know, that demands this of them, and so they know it is mother they seek. With only this word to go by, they begin to climb the weaving pathways that lead from this womb in the earth.