A simple question really, but it was enough to make an old man suddenly jump out his chair like a cat that had its tail stepped on. The chair clattered against the floor as a million thoughts ran through Bernard's head. There were many. What should I do? How is he moving around? Am I safe? These were the loudest thoughts at the moment. He gulped involuntarily. It was like he was trying to swallow down his fear. He knew that the creature spoke. The intonation made it sound like a question. Long moments of silence later, he finally managed to utter a response. "You don't want to kill me right?" he said. His usual baritone voice filled with the dignity of experience and power he built up over the years was now meek. Yup, he was afraid. Now that the marvel and wonder had left his system, reality decided to rear its ugly head and remind him that there could be disastrous consequences for what he did. He stared at the boy and, the child was wearing the sheet that was on the bed. He also had a confused look on his face. It was obvious that communication was going to be an issue.

The boy was feeling a little guilty that he scared such an old man. At least he didn't have a heart attack. And he had to admit, the old guy was pretty spry for his age. He heard a response to his question but realized that it wasn't in a language that he was used to. It was also easy to tell that the old man was still scared, so the boy raised his hands and smiled while trying to motion that he was harmless. That seemed to work because he saw the old man sighed in relief. Then he saw the old man stood still for a bit before gathering the courage to beckon him forward. So he followed the old man into another room. It looked like a study because there were shelves lined with books covering all the walls. The old guy dug through some cabinets before pulling out a palm-sized crystal. He slowly brought it over and pointed at the boy. Then he made the motion of sticking the crystal on his forehead and held it out. Taking the hint, the boy slowly took it. He was a little confused but still did as he was supposedly instructed. The moment the crystal touched his skin he felt heat. It wasn't painful or searing, but the comfortable kind of heat you'd feel in a hot bath. Time seemed to lose all meaning as words started to fill his mind. They burrowed their way deep into his consciousness. It was uncomfortable and a bit frightening. Knowledge of a whole language was being forced into him. Even common sayings and expressions were included. It was his first taste of magic and it was both awe-inducing and a bit frightening.

"So, are you able to understand me now?" Bernard asked, rousing the boy back to reality.

"Yes, yes I can! That's amazing, how did you do that. Wait no that's not important. Who are you; where am I, and do you know what I'm doing here?" The boy had to stop himself and keep focused.

"Well, Those questions are to be expected. Hmm.. where to begin? While I sort out what I'm going to say, let's head back to the kitchen and have a seat. This conversation might take a while." Bernard motioned for the boy to follow him back to the other room. He went to the counter and fiddled with some cups. After messing with a machine that looked like a coffee maker, he came back with two cups filled with steaming hot tea. Bernard sat before he took a sip, sighed and began to speak.

"I know this must be very confusing for you, so you'll have a lot of questions. Let me start by saying that my name is Bernard Malston, and I am very sorry. I was conducting an experiment with a newly invented magical material...." Bernard continued to explain what he had done that morning.

The boy listened intently trying to take in the information without freaking out too much. He was moderately successful. After the explanation, he took a long drink from his tea. It helped to calm him down. He then looked up from his cup ready to continue with the conversation.

"That, well that's a lot to take in. So, in summary, you summoned me here on accident, and I'm not even in a real body. It's just an imitation. But what I don't understand is why I look like my younger self and why my memories are a mess. I mean I remember my early life pretty well but as I start going into adulthood the memories start becoming blurry or they're not there at all. I also feel that my emotional connection to them is somewhat lacking. I mean, I should be crying right? If I was a soul, then that probably means I was dead. If that's true shouldn't I be...I don't know, sadder?" he was still trying to come to grips with what happened to him.

Bernard saw the pain on his face. He didn't have any answers. Hell, what can he tell this person? He said he was in a younger body. How old was he really? Then again he couldn't answer that, because his memories were a mess. There had never been a successful summoning of a fully functional soul, one that was cognizant and could recognize its own existence. In the darker times of history, necromancers brought souls back from the dead. They were broken or incomplete and bound to undead bodies or artificial constructs. But this was different. After all, Aetherite was technically living. He decided to tell all this to the boy. After taking a sip, he started saying these thoughts out loud. And when he was done, he received a vacant look. The boy was probably having just as much trouble processing what happened today. Bernard decided to take the boy in. It was his responsibility to help him.

"Well it seems like we both have some things to figure out, and you may be staying here a while. So, I'll set you up in the guest room. As for a name, you can give yourself any name you'd like. We'll figure out the rest as we go along. It's also almost time for dinner. And, as I said, since your body is basically functioning as a human body, you are probably hungry. We can continue talking while we dine."

"Now that you mention it dinner does sound good. And thanks, you know, for not using your magic to blow me away when your experiment got dicey. And also, thanks for inviting me to stay here."

"No problem, it's mostly my fault, and I've got the room. Heh, it's kinda funny really. One of my original intentions for Aetherite was for medicine. It was supposed to bond to a patient's missing limbs or wounds and slowly replace the missing pieces. Your missing piece just happened to be a body."

"About that, any idea how this made my body? Not complaining or anything, but shouldn't I be like a big block of metal or something?"

"Well, it was designed to be malleable and adaptable with a mage using a spirit to interact with the Aetherite. The mage's intent will be transferred to the spirit. The spirit would then control the Aetherite. For production, this would allow the Aetherite to form shapes and tools. Basically, it would allow a mage to have a shape-shifting multi-tool. It could also be used for more complex things, but I was going to leave that for others to figure out. In terms of medicine, the will of the patient would directly influence the Aetherite causing it to heal his wounds. Get what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, this stuff responds to will. So basically as soon as it absorbed my soul, it responded to my will. Wait does that mean you or someone else can take control of this body with one of those spirit things?"

"No, no." Bernard shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "The Aetherite is selective. Once it bonds to the will of one being, then that's it. Otherwise, someone could use spirits to completely dismantle whatever I used it on. In simpler terms, think of an Aetherite bond as symbiotic. Once it has a host, it can't be transferred."

"Pheew!" he sighed in relief, "So no getting body jacked then, good to know. Okay let's eat. Need any help setting up?"

"Sure. By the way, you come up with a name yet?"

"Not really, I can't think of one? How about you?"

"Me?" Bernard blinked twice, his face blank.

"Yeah, sure why not? I mean you technically brought me into this world and gave me a body and life. It's kinda like you're my dad." The boy laughed lightly.

Bernard smiled lightly at that. "Yeah, it kind of is." He said. "When I was younger and thought about having a family, I always thought about naming my son Zephyr. It's the term used to describe a gentle breeze. I always liked the way that sounded. I mean, who doesn't love a gentle breeze?"

"Zephyr huh, not bad. Zephyr....yeah I can live with that."

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