Chapter Two

   The naming was an ancient tradition dating back to 1975, when every living thing had been named Jennifer after a heroine in some old love story. Chaos reigned for there is power in a name and too many of one name can upset the balance. ADD MORE HERE

   The latest Namer was as plain as vanilla. If you passed her on the street, you would not give her a second glance. She had plain brown hair and dull brown hair. Her face was plain and expressionless. Currently she was walking, shoulders hunched and head bowed. The Namer's footsteps echoed off the high walls of the endless hallway, her eyes glued firmly to the tile floor. Beside her, the Keeper rambled on, his voice barely above a whisper as he listed his myriad complaints. Oh if he would only shut up, The Namer thought bitterly. She disliked and distrusted the Keeper. He was always on the lookout for castaway children. The Keeper liked to think he was doing these poor souls a favor by sending them off to the kitchens, libraries, or other dead end jobs. Yet the Namer knew most of the Masters of the various houses treated the children as little more than slaves. Another reason she dreaded her job. It broke her heart to see names like Mouse, Fly, or Garbage in a child's young and innocent face. The Namer felt sick,she hated this damned tradition but knew in her heart the power of a name and what that power could lead to it used in the wrong way. Finally they had reached the chamber's massive doors and the Namer turned suddenly on the Keeper, making him glance guilty away.

   "Enough," she hissed in a dull voice. "I have a ritual to attend and you should return to your duties. We can continue this discussion later." The Keeper nodded and strode away, footsteps fading down the hall. With a sigh of relief and resentment, the Namer turned and opened the brass doors into the Chamber of Names. The room was massive with rows of wooden benches encircling a large stage. In the center of the stage was a wooden podium and a single chair. The Namer slowly climbed up the long aisle to the podium, feeling the eyes of the audience follow her every step. Standing behind the podium, the Namer looked out over the sparse crowd and awaited the first child to receive the naming ritual. The ritual was an ancient one, passed down from generation and generation. When a child was born, they received the name Baby. Then at the age of two or three, depending on each child, their parents brought Baby to the Namer to receive his or her name. Ask her a million times and the Namer could not explain how she did it. She simply looked into the child's eyes and a name, bright and bold, would appear in her mind. The name would be announced and written down by the Recorder, who sat in the chair by the podium. Of course there were names that were often used more than once; such as Keeper, who cared for the children with undesirable names and Mother, who would be expected to marry a Father and have as many children as she could. Not every mother was named Mother, however those who received the name at the ritual were considered special among the women who were mothers. However if there were too many of one name, the child would be led out to the Nameless Woods and it's parents given a year to grieve before they were expected to have another child. The Namer supposed she was lucky, she had been born into her position. Still it was a hard job and some days she wished she could have been named Maid or Mother or even one of the poor nameless than to send another child away to the mines or even the dreaded woods. Shaking her head to clear it, the Namer glanced down at the list of families and called "APPLE" in a loud, clear voice.

   A young couple, probably recent newlyweds approached the podium, a chubby faced girl between them. The Namer did not recognize them but judging by the surname they were Farmers. (How are the surnames chosen?) The Farmers were a large section in the southern part of the (Kingdom of Names). They grew the food for the castle and towns of the sprawling land many called home. The woman had bright red hair and it looked like the daughter was going to take after her mother. The Namer bent down slowly, her eyes kind and soft as she met the toddler's bright and curious gaze. Silence fell over the chamber. At first there was nothing but the child's face and then suddenly a name, bright red filled the Namer's vision. She stood slowly and announced "Fruit Picker," to the assembled crowd. The parents looked happy, the name fit well with their lifestyle. The Namer was relieved, she knew the farms always had work for those with such names, the child would never go hungry. The family exited the stage and the Namer continued down her list. There was Baker, Maid, Fighter (unusual but not unheard of), Cook, and even a Gnat. The Keeper will probably end up with that boy, thought the Namer as the parents turned away, disappointment clear on their faces. She looked down on her list, there was one more surname on it. I am not familiar with this one, she thought, and it's so unique. "STRANGE," she called out. Surprise filled her face a single scruffy looking man practically dragging a scared looking girl of about three towards the podium. The man was tall and broad like a bear, the little girl looked so frail next to him that the Namer's heart went out to the poor child. She nodded briefly to the man who glared at her. Kneeling she met the girl's frightened eyes and looked into her mind. What she saw there filled the Namer's heart with dread. No this can not be, she thought shaking her head. Yet the image remained and heart pounding the Namer stood and looked out on the crowd. In a voice barely above a whisper she called out "War."