The First Fae Mate

One | Memory

"Visena..."

The darkness around the woman's bed of autumn leaves cradled her as she jolted awake, an eerie silence filling her ears. Suppressing the urge to call out into the unknown pitch-dark, she opted to sink deeper into the dry foliage crunching under her flesh.

Even without sight, her nakedness became apparent, the crispy leaves scratching along every crevice of her body. She swore softly, swiping at her buttocks and thighs as a tickling sensation stole her attention, praying she wouldn't become a feast for tiny insects. Or larger ones... She shivered at the thought.

For hours she lay still, letting her shaky breathing lull her into a state of meditation until the surrounding landscape turned greyscale from the tediously slow rising sun. Only then, as ancient tree trunks and shrubbery appeared around her, did she notice another absence: her memory. She did not know who she was or where she came from.

Taking a quick look over herself in the growing light, she found no obvious markings or injuries on her body besides a small spattering of bruises around her ankle. Standing, she swept her hands across herself, dislodging any debris and started walking, hoping something would become familiar.

She wandered feebly around the forest. Her stomach ached, and she limped as her feet received repetitive slices from hidden jagged objects. A few times, she dropped to her knees and crawled when the pain became too much, though it would quickly ebb, and when she looked at her feet, they appeared scabbed over. Her brow furrowed as she poked her soles, picking at the dried blood and dirt.

What am I?

Tall evergreens seemed to mock her, standing thickly upon moist soil, their tops disappearing into silver mist above. At first, the direction she walked appeared straight, but she sat defeated after seeing the same mossy boulder three times.

Her soft nails bent and tore as she picked at the grey-green rock, leaving a ruddy stain. Then, leaning her head against the cold stone, her eyes dropped to an old bendy twig on the ground, and she twisted it into a knot, throwing it into the brush with a grunt. She blinked as the branches and the finger painting markings suddenly gave her an ingenious idea.

Jumping up, she plucked a handful of scraggly branches from a nearby conifer, tied both ends, and made a loop. She lay it atop the boulder like a crown and marched away with a satisfied smile.

"I hope never to see you again, you bloody, mossy bastard!" she called behind her before threading another loop over a nearby tree, marking a path.

Nightfall came quickly, and she tucked herself against an old pine; its circumference, she counted, was eight arms wide.

"Goodnight, big guy," she said, sighing contentedly and keeping one hand pressed against the soft bark in an awkward embrace.

After hours of light and fitful dozing, she awoke at dawn with a start. The repeated whispering in her dreams finally made sense.

"My name!" she panted, squeezing herself tightly with a smile, relieved to have something of her own finally.

"Visena."

After a time of trudging and muttering happily about her name, Visena came across a large, folded blue tarpaulin. She stalked around the tightly wrapped bundle and poked at it with a rotting stick. When it didn't move or make a noise, she scooped it up and tugged the frayed twine bow string around it.

Meticulously tucked inside were a half-dozen energy bars, an old t-shirt, and oversized men's sweatpants. Turning one of the tiny rectangular morsels in her hands, she read the ingredients.

"Peanuts, dates, fruit. Blah, blah, blah. May contain hard pieces, and colour may vary. Keep out of direct sunlight..."

Visena contemplated the safety of eating the ancient-looking bar before shrugging and stuffing it in her mouth greedily. Despite its crumbling, moistureless texture, her eyes rolled back as the sweetness coated her tongue. She stopped after the second one realising it might be the only food for a while, and the lack of water made her tongue swell. Then, quickly dressing in the suspiciously soft clothes, she pressed on, dragging the tarp behind her.