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An entire world of nothing but darkness.

   I was unable to move my body as it seemingly floated in water with no sense of left and right or up and down. I couldn't feel my arms or legs and I doubt my other senses were working as well. My mind was so dazed that any thoughts I tried to form simply ceased.

   Who am I?

   Where is this?

   What happened to make everything the way it was?

   But in the endless darkness, a light emerged. A tiny spec of white in this black sea. It started off small, but then it grew and it continued to grow until the darkness was nothing and there was only light.

   It's so bright.

   Then a feeling I had forgotten came back. I was suddenly being squeezed by some invisible force. But it was short and sudden and after what felt like an eternity of not taking a breath, I took one.

   This world was much more confusing and scary, but it was somehow more soothing than being in that dark void.

   Then I was in pain, I didn't know what was painful, but I knew it was so. The next thing I did was cry. There were no thoughts or anything that led up to it. It just happened as if it was instinct.

   I should open my eyes.

   My eyes? Why haven't I done that before?

   When I opened my eyelids, the bright light shined ever more, blinding me. But I was able to see outlines.

   The first thing I saw was the visage of an old man. Though not as old as if he was a wizard from the tales of old. He was clean-shaven. The man's face had seen its fair share of time and wrinkles had grown deep on his cheeks.

   The wrinkled man stared at me in awe like what he was seeing was impossible. "It'll be okay, son. You're fine."

   "Ahh! Wah!" were the only things that I could muster from my mouth.

   Why are those the only things I can say?

  A much younger man approached the wrinkled man from behind. The young man kept his black hair messy, letting it fall over his eyes. He donned a piece of chest armour with engravings and symbols I didn't recognize.

   "Congratulations, Trisha," the black-haired man smiled as he watched me. "He looks like you."

   Why am I being treated as if I was a child?

   Is this some sort of flashback of my birth?

   And who's Trisha?

  My mother's name was Jeyne and she died giving birth to me.

   That's it. I remember now.

  My name is Decan Lancaster!

   The wrinkled man lifted me up and handed me to a girl with hazel eyes.

   No, she's not a girl. She's a young woman.

   Her face was exhausted and she took heavy breaths, but she smiled at me all the same.

   "Hello, there."

   "Gah! Wah!"

   Who is she?

   The voice of another woman spoke. "Colonel, we just got a message from General Clegane. He's coming to visit you and Dr Payne. He'll be arriving on the morrow."

"Then we've got to make preparations," the black-haired man groaned as he left. "Why does he always try and surprise us? Damn that man and his old hide!"

   "Colonel, could you please summon your Marching Dolls and have them guard each window and door?" the wrinkled man asked.

   "Sure thing. And I'll place them under your control, so just have them do what you need." The black-haired man disappeared, snapping his fingers as the sound of earth shifted outside. "Marching Dolls!"

   Was that jynx?

   "I'll set your boy in the crib, Trisha, but you must rest. Childbirth has taken its toll on you."

   Childbirth? So this woman beside me has just given birth.

  Don't tell me—

   "His name," Trisha said. "I want to give him a name before I pass out."

   "Ah, yes. What shall be the little one's name?"