Although they were the same person, Greg did not actually possess all of Greg Sass's memories. Of his past with Vivian, he had only scattered fragments.
Eight years old, on a summer afternoon.
Sunlight filtered through a lush wisteria arbor, scattering flecks of gold.
The air smelled of grass and sweets, and the scene in his memory glowed with soft, warm hues.
That had been their first formal meeting, deliberately arranged by their parents.
Even then, Vivian had begun to show the exquisite, sculpted features she would have later in life. Her blue hair flowed like a waterfall, and her ice-blue eyes were clear, yet lacked the exuberance a child should have had.
She sat quietly beside a round table covered with a pristine white cloth, sipping juice. She showed little interest in the carefully arranged treats and toys around her, like a porcelain doll placed at the center of a lively party.
Distant, but not cold.
The one who broke through that transparent barrier was Greg Sass, who still retained the pride and vitality befitting the Sass Family's legitimate son.
The blond boy swept in like a little whirlwind and sat down across from her without ceremony. His eyes sparkled as he offered her the strawberry cake he thought looked the prettiest.
"Here, this one's the best! I've tried it!" His voice brimmed with childish certainty.
The little girl lifted her ice-blue eyes, glanced at him, then looked at the cake topped with bright red strawberries. She said nothing, but did not refuse it.
Then Greg, sitting in the other chair, launched into a discussion of whether a Desert Stone Man or a Magic Puppet was stronger, while Vivian listened and ate her cake in small bites.
After that, the two children gradually grew familiar with each other.
They