She was floating... Or at least, that's what it felt like. The elven girl no longer felt fear, she just felt like she was being gently carried somewhere. Absent-mindedly, she noticed it felt like something was floating away. Too bogged down with the peaceful feelings, she couldn't identify what they were. At least, not until the image of her father started to fade away. Horrified, she figured it out. Her memories. Her memories were floating away from her. Despite how horrified she was... She gradually began to even forget to be horrified by the prospect of losing her memories. Instead, she just felt sorrow. As the image and name of her father disappeared, her mother soon followed. Her subconscious was frantically grasping at memories, trying to save as many as possible. The memory of her beloved snake was saved, albeit damaged into a state of being little more then a niggling feeling of something being missing. This, she had to save this. As well as that. No, the memories of her race and culture are gone! Damn, there goes the memories of her training, well at least there's still muscle memory. Ah, it managed to save some history, albeit only the most general of facts. However, despite the few victories it managed, there was still one loss that even in her current state she couldn't stop the tears from dribbling down her cheeks. Her brother's image... Already gone. Both his name and the memories of their time together already faded away. But at least... At least her subconscious saved some important details. For example. Her name... Her name is... Her name is...
---
Catiel groaned, covering her closed eyes as the sun got in them. "Where... Am I?" She mumbled, pushing herself up. Looking around, she saw... Sand. A lot of sand. And... What is that blue stuff to her right? And those brown and green things? Dully, her mind started to interpret the images. Ah, those things are water and trees. So much water... What do they call this much water...? Ah yes, a lake. Wait, this water is salty. Ohhhh, so this must be the 'ocean'. Looking at her reflection, she frowned. Why are her ears so pointy? Looking at the sand, she ran her fingers through it, feeling the grains running out using the gaps between her digits. Absently, she noted she had something on her back. Removing it, she stared at the curved piece of wood and string. Now... What was it called again...? Oh yes, a bow. Does she know archery? Glancing at a tree, she noticed a claw mark on it. "Perfect," she said to herself, pulling out an arrow. To her amazement, she instinctively knew how to notch the arrow and draw it back. Without even realizing it, she started to adjust for the wind, and let loose the arrow. Blinking, she saw it hit the very edge of the mark. "That... That was..." When she drew the arrow, when she pulled the string, when she released the projectile, when the string sung... She felt a burst of joy. She was... Having fun. Smiling a little, she drew another arrow and tried again. A few arrows later, she swiped the sweat from her brow, and smiled gleefully at the fifth arrow in a row that hit the mark dead-center. "I did it," she cheered. She blinked, what was running down her cheek. A tear...? Somewhere deep within her sub-conscious, buried so deep that she didn't even notice it, a tiny voice said one thing. 'I wish big brother could have seen it.'
---
Years later, the wayward elf was standing in a small human village. It was now her 16th year, as she managed to remember. Staring out over the nearby farms from this fenced off ledge, she sighed. Once again... She felt so alone. Over the years, she realized that she was the only one within a thousand miles with pointed ears. That she was in a place ruled by 'humans', and that she is an 'elf'. Sure, some humans were sympathetic to the amnesia-plagued girl, but just as many, if not more, humans were not so kind. Over the years, she had been discriminated against, gossiped about, had stones thrown at, and flat out ignored. Over the years, she came to hate the humans who despise her so. But, deep within human territory, there was only one time where she could truly be alone. When it rained, when the sky seemed to cleanse the earth with its tears, when most creatures would seek cover in order to avoid being drenched. It was at those times when she was at peace, when she could let her mask of indifference drop, when she could... Cry. As it was raining now, she leaned against the fencing, her sad violet eyes counting the crops. Hm, looks like the humans have a good crop this year. With her slender build, lean muscles built up from repetitive practice of the one joy she still has in this world (archery), she probably was fairly attractive, if the stares she saw that had no anger or pity in them were any indication. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a pendant. It was a simple, silvery thing. A silver chain, holding onto a simple silver oval with a violet crystal in the middle. It was very simple, yet somehow that simplicity made it more beautiful. She often considered wearing it, but decided against it for fear of it being stolen. She had long since out-grown the tunic and pants she wore, considering they were getting too short as well as too tight in certain areas. Now, she was wearing an outfit composed of a brown jacket that was intentionally stopped short of her belly with a red band of cloth wrapped around her left arm, a pink mini-dress, 'panty-hose' (as the merchant called them), and a belt made of three large circles connected to a plain brown belt that wouldn't wrap completely around her waist otherwise and a (somehow) silver false gem in the middle circle of metal. It pretty much cleared her purse, so now she didn't have enough money to afford many luxuries, which left this pendent and the gemstone still in her pocket as her only possessions that had nothing to do with archery or staying dressed. She would have trouble making ends meet, if it weren't for the time-honored art of killing the fuck out of creatures that might want to eat you and then turning their remains into something edible. Oddly enough, no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get the feeling that she was used to something different then bug-things. "And another year goes by in my personal hell," she mumbled bitterly, staring at the sky. No, those certainly were not tears running down her cheeks, those were just raindrops... That got in her eyes.