Dr. Stan Irins walked into the room. It was small, and bland, with only a bed and dresser, plus a few toys, scattered carelessly around the room. In the middle of the room on the floor, was a little girl, no more than 1 ½ years of age, playing with a puzzle.
As he walked into the room, the girl looked up. Her eyes were startling blue, with bright flecks of silver. Her hair was light brown, and she looked like she hadn't eaten in months. She looked back to her puzzle, and snapped another piece in. That's when Stan realized it was a large, complicated puzzle, probably about 1,000 pieces.
This was who he had been looking for his entire life, as with his father, and all that had been before them in the many generations of men in the Irins family.
Stan sat down next to the girl. "How are you?"
"I know why you are here. You want to take me away." She said, without looking up from the puzzle. Stan was a little freaked out that a 1 ½ year old had spoken with such clarity and precision, and even spoke well at all. He got over his surprise quick though.
"Perhaps. You are very special you know."
"I know. I can do a lot of things." She put two more pieces their places.
"What is your name?" Stan asked her.
She put another piece on the puzzle and looked up at him, her face vacant of expression. "I do not have a name." She turned back to the puzzle once again.
Stan watched her for a few minutes and then got up and went out to the living room to where her parents were. They sat nervously on the couch, waiting for him.
He sat down across from them. The father cleared his throat. "Is she the one you have been looking for? Can you help her?"
Stan nodded. "She is the one. I understand you have not named her."
"We haven't named her because we did not feel it was our right to name her." The mother said. "We knew you would come, and you can name her."
Stan sighed. "With your permission, I will take her and she will live with me. She will never fit in with the rest of the world. I will train her and care for her."
The parents looked at each other. The father nodded. "You may take her. As long as we get to visit before she turns 18. We cannot care for her any longer."
"What shall you name her?" The mother asked.
Stan thought. He had the perfect name. The name of his sister, who had passed away when he was 11, who he had always loved with all of his heart, and still did, even though it was 12 years later. "Ayan, meaning bright."
The mother nodded. "It's beautiful. She is packed, here's her bag, and you may leave after we say our farewells." She handed him a bag.
Stan took it, and went back into the girl's room.
The puzzle was complete, and now she was sitting on her bed, watching him as he walked in.
He walked up to her and kneeled on the floor in front of her. "I am going to take you with me."
"Then I must take Vincent with me." She said, picking up a stuffed cat from behind her. "And have you named me?"
Stan smiled. "Yes, if you like it. How about Ayan?"
For the first time, she smiled too, squeezing the cat. "Yes. I like that name. Are we going now?"
"Yes, you just have to say goodbye to your parents, and we can leave."
"Yay!" She jumped off of the bed, still holding Vincent, and ran out to the living room.
Stan picked up her bag and followed her out. Her parents were talking to her quietly, and they hugged her.
"Now go Ayan. Go with Stan. And be strong." Her father said. Ayan nodded and toddled over to Stan, and took one of his hands. He looked down at her and smiled. He turned to the parents.
"Thank you, and good fortune to you. Ayan will be safe."
The mother nodded. "I know she will be. Goodbye."
Stan led Ayan out to his car. He put her in a car seat in the back, and got into the driver's seat. They started off to his home.