Finding a Name
There was once a young boy with dirty blonde hair and sky blue eyes. He lived with his mother in a small tribe. His mother loved him deeply and truly, for he was the only child she had. While they did live with a tribe, the two prefered solitude. They hunted and farmed on their own, living off the land.
One day, three boats set up port near where the two lived. On board one of the ships was a young man with sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes. The boy was curious about these newcomers, never having seen anything like them, but his mother warned him to stay away. She sensed a great danger and sorrow coming with the arrival of these men. She did not trust them. But like most children, the boy did not heed his mother's warning. Instead, while his mother was away hunting, he snuck away to see the newcomers.
He found the green eyed one talking to another man, with soft blue eyes and longer blonde hair. He didn't talk to them he just watched them. He did this for weeks, sitting and watching. His mother continued to warn him against it and with every visit she got weaker. The boy, however, didn't notice. He was too focused on the strange men, with their foreign ways and accents.
Eventually, he gained the courage to talk to the young men. They quickly became friends. When the boy went home, excited to tell his mother the news, she was on her deathbed. The last words she said to him, "Become strong, my son. Make me proud." He cried and held her hand as she faded away.
The boy didn't visit the young men for a couple weeks afterwards. When he finally did, he was in for a surprise. The young man with green eyes was willing to adopt him. He accepted immediately, eager to not be alone. That night he packed his meager belongings and moved in with him.
They spent the next years together happily. They learned each other's quirks and things, and the young man watched the boy, now his brother, grow into a man himself. However, as they boy grew, a seed of tension started to grow between them. It bloomed into fruition, bearing hate, viciousness, and pain. The young man and the boy began fighting and bickering almost constantly. One day, they snapped. A war was started. The years that followed were full of blood and loss.
It was on the final day of the way, on his knees, green eyes blood shot as his tears mix with the rain, the young man realised he had lost.
It was at that moment, silent tears slipping down his cheeks as he looked down at the man that used to be his brother, that the boy found his true name. Alfred F. Jones.