Since I could first remember my own life, I have simultaneously been remembering lives that are not mine. They are tiny slices of experiences, brief windows into a past that I never had and that perhaps never existed. It is the stuff of dreams... and perhaps they are nothing but dreams. I believe they are something more.

Perhaps my life with Scorpan is not the one I was meant to have. I cannot shake the feeling that my life is out there, in the grassy meadows I dream of so often.

First-person Tirek origin story. You ask, "Why?" I ask, "Why not?"

Picture is some stock photo I got from Google Images. It fits the mood of the story perfectly.