It was his. It was surprising and not all at once. And the feather he had removed from his pocket looked desperately familiar as well. He almost felt that he needed to explain himself, but there wasn’t much to say about it. At least the attack seemed to be over, for now, and his shields stayed down as he took his own tentative, shy step forward.

“It was with me when I came to this place. Days, weeks ago, perhaps. I do not remember. Strange, though.” And frightening, but there was no need to give that away just yet.

But then he heard his own name on those lips and he couldn’t help it as memory after memory—or maybe it was dream after dream—of love and of loving came forward so quickly that he had to look away, eyes closed, before he had enough control of himself to speak again.

“Dreams say many things. I hold much faith in them.” But then, so did all of the ForeSeers. And the thought that was he was Seeing now could have been ForeSight was…strange. Heartening nad lovely, but…odd. Did he remember this man…?

When he could finally look back, it was with a soft smile on his face, somehow both hopeful and just a touch sad for the things that he still couldn’t remember.

“I am Starwind. And if you wish it of me, I will leave, Zevran-ashke.” Damn. He hadn’t meant to call him that. But it was too late now to take it back. Perhaps he hadn’t ruined anything after all.