Okay Dragon of the Elements: People actually like my story and review! I'm so proud. You're such a good muse, Earth! (Turns and gives Earth a big hug)

Earth: (choking) Thanks. Anyway, here's chapter three, and I might as well tell you before hand to review. So review already! And thanks Dawn N, for seeing that this story has potential!! P.S. Element loves your fan-fictions!

***Three days after the warehouse, in yet another warehouse***

He lay on a bed. Actually, it was more like a mattress on the ground, one of about 50 identical mattresses in the warehouse room, but they called it a bed. So that's what it was. And, more important, Alaya called it a bed.

Alaya, or the silhouette person, as he still thought of her in his head, was his nurse. And a freedom fighter. And a mercenary. Talk about juggling your careers. She had been the one who had found him in the Dark Room, as he thought of it. And she had been the one who saved him.

After he had passed out, she and her back-up, the person she had been calling for, had picked him up and carried him out of the Dark Room, and to their own warehouse. His leg, ribs and head had been tended, and tended quite well. Despite the fact that it looked very grungy from the outside, the inside, and especially the infirmary, were clean and well tended.

He had woken up the next day, and the first things he saw were those eyes. The connection buzzed through them again, then someone called something to her, and she looked away. He felt it, and he knew she felt it too.

She, and the other people in the warehouse, spoke in some strange tongue. Then again, since he could not remember his own speech, or what normal speech was, it didn't really matter. Alaya was slowly teaching him how to speak, which was easier than it sounded. Being unable to remember anything about his previous language made it easy for him to learn.

At first, no one had realized what was wrong with him. They had assumed he hadn't spoken of recognized anything because of his wounds, but after they had been cleaned and tended, and he still wasn't responding, they began to figure out something was wrong. It was Alaya who figured out he probably had lost his memory.

Alaya, he thought as he drifted back to sleep, what a beautiful name. What does beautiful mean?

And with that thought, he fell asleep.


Alaya watched as the nameless man fell back asleep. He slept a lot, more than most of the other patients. She guessed when you didn't recognize or remember anything, and couldn't talk to anyone, it was easier just to sleep.

She was attracted to him, she admitted to herself. The first time they had looked at each other in the cell of the Nietzchean slave holding centre, where slaves were kept until they could be sold. She and about 15 others had been on a raid to free the slaves. Usually they left the injured ones behind, for they would slow down attempts to escape, but something had compelled her to take this person.

Alaya had been raiding slave holding warehouses for three years, since she was 19. This had been the first time she had felt connected to, and truly cared for, one of her rescued. Of course, after the people with minor injuries had been brought in, or one of the freedom fighters had been injured, she had felt for them. But it was never very deep, or very long.

For some reason, this unnamed, unknown person was different. You like him, a little voice in her head said. And he likes you, if he likes anything. But don't push it. He doesn't trust easily.

That was certainly true. He didn't respond, or show any emotions or signs of recognition for what people did. He didn't try and speak, he just lay there and watched with those blue eyes. Those soft, wonderful blue eyes . . .

Stop it, that little voice continued, you're working here. And stop staring at him.

Alaya realized she was, and quickly turned back to her patient, one of about five she cared for. It was a fellow freedom fighter, and Alaya's cousin, Mikelle. Mikelle was the one who had first gotten Alaya to join the rebels. Her absolute conviction in that ideal had convinced Alaya. Now she was as steadfastly devoted to their cause as Mikelle.

"He-llo? Remember me? Your cousin, whose arm is not getting bandaged any faster with you gawking at that nameless stranger," said Mikelle.

Alaya jumped and got back to the business of wrapping Mikelle's arm. She had cut it in a fight with a Nietzchean.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked her cousin as she continued, firmly fixing her eyes on Mikelle's forearm.

"Yes, Alaya, it's that obvious. To me, and to everyone else. Trust you to pick the guy with no name, no past and no memory, when just about every other freedom fighter has been interested in you."

"Mikelle!" Alaya blushed, "not every guy. And anyway, they weren't that special. He is, somehow, we. . .belong together. We. . .fit. I can't really explain it."

Mikelle watched her cousin struggling for words, "Speaking of no name, what are we gonna call him? I don't think he'd appreciate being called 'nameless person' or 'no memory stranger' for the rest of his life.

"Why don't you name him, Al?" she asked, using Alaya's nickname, "Seeing as you're the one who has the hots for him, and you're the only one who's interested in him."

Alaya again paused in bandaging her cousin's arm, once again lost in thought. This was obviously something of great importance to her, and she did not take it lightly. Neither Mikelle nor Alaya realized that the subject of their conversation was listening, and waiting even more intently than Mikelle.

"Jason," she said finally, "his name will be Jason."



The young man now named Jason, who had been listening to the cousins' whole conversation, gave a smile, the first smile he could remember. He had learned enough of the language to be able to understand the gist of most conversations, though he had never spoken it.

Jason, I am Jason, he thought. If it had been anyone other than Alaya who had named him, he would not have accepted it. But since she had, and for a lack of his previous name, or any name for that matter, his name was Jason.


Dragon of the Elements: Okay, that chapter took a bit longer, but it's done! I'm going to try and put a new chapter up every day, or at least until people get tired of my story. And since my muse is co-operating (finally), this story is really coming along. Now what do you say, EarthDragon?

Earth: Review please!! (turns and looks at Element) Happy now?

Element: Very much so, thanks.