The first thing he's aware of is his name - Alehkia. It feels his, uniquely so, and he knows this with as much certainty as that he exists.
Next, he knows what he is. He is sylvari. That means many things, most of which he can't quite grasp, not quite yet. He has a connection to other sylvari, and they to him, even here in the Dream (for that's what this place is called, "the Dream"). In these formative moments, he knows he's getting their knowledge - not any specific bits, not any exact memories, but a distilled essence, a summary of sorts.
He knows of life - things live and grow and evolve - and he knows of death - moving on from this world to another one. He knows of love and beauty and joy and truth, and he knows of hate and horror and despair and lies. They're both - there, for him. Available, if he so chooses, for he can choose. Not now; now he has no choice but to perceive and learn. That choice is a choice he will have to continually make as he lives, forever.
He couldn't hear, but now he can. Words echo in his head:
Live life well and fully, and waste nothing.
Do not fear difficulty. Hard ground makes stronger roots.
The only lasting peace is the peace within your own soul.
All things have a right to grow. The blossom is brother to the weed.
Never leave a wrong to ripen into evil or sorrow.
Act with wisdom, but act.
From the smallest blade of grass to the largest mountain, where life goes, so, too, should you.
He couldn't see, but now he can. A sliver of light, bright and white. A crescent moon, in the distance, engraved on a hard smooth surface. It beckons to him, calls his name, not with sound or writing, but with the music of his soul and the colour of dreams.