Dreaming, I found myself, or rather Ash, in what seemed like an idyllic mountain town. The buildings were mostly one or two stories tall, each with a large courtyard and tall walls. The whole place gave off the vibe of a monastery or retreat for the wealthy. If the buildings had been Chinese, I would have thought I was in some sect from a cultivation novel. However, the stone-on-stone construction and heavy steel armor of the guards changed that feel.

Ash was sitting at a low desk. There, with light stones around him, he was working on etching a long sword. While I had never learned script, I saw that he was using it to place spells down and around the tang. I knew that he was working on a masterpiece of a weapon as there was text across all of it.

Soon enough, he added a fine powder and pushed mana into it. The script lit up, and then the tang exploded. Bits of metal sliced through his clothing and bounced off his hands. He stood up and sighed.

Ash took off his tunic and held it up, and then muttered. “Still can’t get the growth right on the sword.”

He brushed himself off, changed into new clothes, and headed out. As the dream deepened, I shifted fully into Ash’s perspective. I could tell I had been in this place for a long time. People nodded or bowed to me as I moved through the large compound. I returned bows with nods, and the nods with a slight inclining of my head. My actions seemed to place me high on the social scale, which would make sense for the Battle Priest and former Champion of two goddesses.

The path I was on took me up higher on the mountain past several dozen large sub-compounds. The higher I went, the fewer people I saw walking around, but the more dense the ambient mana also became. Soon I walked into a large building carved into the side of the mountain.

The doors were over fifty feet tall and twenty feet wide. Neither was closed, but rather they sat open with the morning sun just starting to shine into a large open room with grand columns. As I walked in, a dozen guards on each side bowed fully on their knees. In the middle of the room sat an old man on a low mat.

I walked up to the mat and waited just a few feet away with a slight bow. Slowly the old man looked up, smiled, then pointed to the mat. I sat down cross-legged and slowed my breath down as much as I could. I felt amused at this process as it was our daily habit.

Once the sunlight had reached the edge of the mat, the man clapped his hands twice. Several servants came running out from the side of the room carrying trays of food and drink. The old man was served first and then me. Only after the light breakfast and tea were finished did we speak.

As the line of light passed over the mat fully, the man spoke. “You have been here many years now. Have you found what you are seeking?”

I lowered my head with a slight shake. “No, Shaman, I have not. But I learned recently what it is that I am looking for.”

The old man smiled slightly. “Oh, and what is it that you are looking for?”

I felt a swell of emotions as Ash’s mind went from focused to that of a storm in an instant. “I seek what I can not have, what I have been denied. I seek a family.”

The man nodded to me, then slowly asked. “What is your name?”

I felt myself keep from sighing. It was a question asked over and over again. One that I had answered before and kept answering. While I didn’t know the man’s name, he knew mine.

I answered. “I am Ash.”

The shaman nodded and smiled. “So if you are ash, then so is your family?”

I battled a reply. I wanted to retort what he said but knew it was worthless. He never replied if he didn’t ask a question. The only conversation was made with him asking questions and me answering.

For a few more minutes, we sat in silence. The old man just drank his tea as Ash looked at his empty cup. As time went by, neither man moved. They both just were. After the sun had risen far enough that the light no longer passed through the door, the old man sat his cup down.

The shaman looked over at Ash and said. “Help me up; these old bones don’t like me as much as they used to.”

I quickly got up and then slowly helped the old one up. Once the shaman was standing, the man shook out his right hand, and a cane appeared. He pointed to a side door, and then we started to walk.

As we walked, he asked a new question. “How goes the enchanting?”

I snorted. “I blew up another blade today. I just can’t get the growth to function the way I want.”

He nodded slightly. “What keeps giving you problems?”

“The last step. When I am adding the powered beast core, it looks like everything should work right, but it doesn’t. All the other enchantments work fine, but when I try to make it grow, it fails every time.”

A few minutes later, we were walking through a mountain garden. The plants were tended but weren’t as lush as in other places. As we walked, he would stop and touch different plants here or there. Then, he pulled a pruning knife from someplace and cut a piece or two from small bushes.

He paused and rubbed his hands together, griding up a piece of the herb he had just cut. “Ahh. A challenge fit my master gardener.”

He raised his cane that once again appeared in his hand. As he brought it down slowly, another old man came walking over. The new arrival nodded to me and gave the shaman a slight half-bow.

The shaman passed the ground-up leaf over to the gardener. “Please make that grow.”

The gardener laughed, dropped it on the ground, and walked away. He didn’t even return a bow or say anything. He just left. As he walked away, I watched the plants around him grow stronger, but the ground-up leaf did nothing.

I nodded to the shaman. “I will try as you suggest. Perhaps using a full core and not just ground like we do for other enchantments. Thank you for your wisdom.”

The old man shook his head. “I gave none of my wisdom. I only reminded you of what you already know. Seeds grow, and plants can be cut off and returned to life. But there must be structure, or not even magic can do what you are trying.”

I sighed and nodded. I had lived so many more years than this man, but he had spent his time thinking. I had spent mine killing and destroying. For over two hundred years, I had fought my way through hordes of orcs, pushing them back on every front I could. I led the armies of the gods and made deals with nations. Yet, until now, I had never paused and stopped what I was doing.

At last, we came to a small pond, and he changed subjects again. “Why is it that you feel you have been denied family?”

I once again felt the storm and the rage. But then I felt Ash push it down until the emotions were settled again. Then he spoke. “My parents were killed, and the women I love all die. I have, time and time again, been denied having a family. The gods seem bent against me having it, but it is what I want more than anything.”

The man leaned on his cane and asked. “Then what must you do to gain what you desire?”

I pondered the question as we watched the fish swimming. A few years ago, when we had this same conversation, I would have told him that I needed more power—skills to break the Dark Ones and end their threat in our world. I would have ranted about the goddesses that I was the high priest of how they didn’t care for me. Yet, today my understanding shifted.

I nodded to the man. “I need to be Ash no longer. I need to be kindled again and have a flame. If I am to have a family, I need a name.”

The man tapped his cane on the paver a couple of times. “Good, so what is your name?”

I thought back to the name my parents had given me and discarded it. Not that I didn’t love them, but that part of me was passed. I wasn’t a boy in a cave any longer. But I did have a name I loved that would remind me of what I was striving for.

I smiled and said. “I am Maximus.”

* * *