Every new experience brought new images to his broken mind. Finn had to re-learn the most basic of things.  Social customs confused him the most.  From the day his brother and sister had found him in the ruins of their ancestral home to now, only three days had passed; the young Initia found himself struggling.  When he remembered something it came in a rush.  A jigsaw puzzle all scrambled up.  Events came in a nonsensical pattern.  He would remember the last words he had said to his sister, but couldn’t remember anything about their time together as children.

He had become a hermit since he was found, going through photos and old videos.  All were foreign to him but in the back of his mind Finn felt like something was missing.  At first the people in the Initia mansion had looked at him with fear.  The cook had even run away from the kitchen, when Finn had come down to get some breakfast.  He found that he liked cooking.  He had fixed a pile of pancakes, fresh bacon and sausage links, eggies with English toast nicely crisp on the outside but soft on the inside.  Finn had found some oranges and made some sweet oj.  The table was filled with delicious food.  The aroma of freshly made coffee floated though the kitchen.  With a big grin Finn sat down and helped himself to this culinary bounty.  Once he was done, he had washed the dishes, dried them and put them away. 

The cook had come in just as he was putting the last of the dishes away.  She had a look of pure shock on her face.  The following day, the cook had breakfast ready for him with a cup of black gold waiting for him.  “Do we have some cream and sugar?  I like mine sweet.”  The cook looked at him astonished at what he had said “Mr. Adolf, you used to like it plain with nothing added. “  She shook her head and went to the fridge, getting out the carton of milk.  “Never mind sir, here you go.”  She gave him the sugar bowl and some milk in a little cow with a mouth in a shape of a spout.  Finn smiled at the crafty ceramic thing “Please call me Finn.  I don’t like the other name.”

Little things like the coffee incident and not liking to be called Adolf perplexed him even more.  Finn had the feeling he was no longer the man he used to be.

At first his pallor was sickly pale with a tinge of gray.  After spending a couple of days outside in the gardens, his skin color had improved.  His hair didn’t seem lifeless and his nails had been trimmed to socially acceptable size.  When he had been found, dirty and in rags, his nails were three inches long.  Today he had taken a shower, put some comfortable clothes and went for a walk outside the Initia complex.

The day was cast down, the smell of rain danced around the area but the clouds didn’t look heavy with rain.  He had brought an umbrella and that thing that Sierra called a mobile.  Finn didn’t care much for the gadget but she had insisted he would carry it in case he got lost.  He had remembered how to use it, but like the coffee Finn did not like the device.  He didn’t know why.

As he walked a path seemed familiar to him.  He followed it.  Images began to appear, again in no particular order.  He was looking around when he saw her.  His brows furrowed as he saw the female approaching him.  Finn remained calm with a curious look on his face.  It was hard to read the woman’s expression.  His heart began to beat fast the closer she got to him.

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