Heir of the Forgotten

~The Beginning~

The dark will never be without its light.

Silver streaks danced across the sky as a small woman leaned on the edge of the balcony that overhung the sand below. The wind blew a tangled mess of midnight-decorated hair, while eyes of gold rimmed in a crown of silver overlooked the rushing tides.

The night was calm besides the rustle of the sea, and the whispers of the wind as they hit trees and brushed against the girl's skin. Her fair complexion stood to contrast the dark shading of the night as she sat still on the balcony. Not even her fingers twitched as the bitter cold nipped at them. 

The cold never seemed to bother her, nor the heat. Her eyes stared ahead of her, the world seemed so peaceful from her place on that ledge. Even as the inhuman points of her ears stuck out from her dark hair, and the moonlight made her eyes glimmer and shine in a way that seemed unnatural, she didn't attempt to conceal it.

"Dear, you really shouldn't sit out here like this, you'll catch a cold." A soft woman's voice turned the girl's attention away from the soothing sounds of the water, "Sel, sweetheart..."

"I'll be fine, Mom..." In truth, Selenetta would indeed be fine. It was rare that she fell ill, and sitting outside certainly would not cause her to fall ill.

As her mother sighed and stepped closer to the edge of the railing, she looked out over the water. But unlike the child that sat still as stone, she could not see the fascination with the stars nor the sea. It is a sight that is always there and always the same, and yet Sel sits here for hours gazing no matter the weather.

Sel has never been an open child. Her lips have always been tight, and her words are void of most emotion. The mother that stands next to her, and the father that is inside the home are not the parents that gave her life... Though the faces of her birth parents are vague, she will forever yearn for them.

She was old enough to have memories, to have had a childhood before she ended up here. That much she knows.

"Come inside, it's getting late and dinner is ready. I made steamed buns with the meat inside just how you like it." Her mother's voice is soft and gentle. She's always been careful with her words and actions, never trying to take the place of the girl's true parents. She was surprised when she started calling her mom.

Slowly, Sel turned, careful not to snag the light fabric of her dress on the railing. She dropped to the floor, then grabbed a purple ribbon from the pocket of her skirt and wound it around her mess of loose curls, pulling them away from her face. She walked away from the balcony and into her room.

Even though she's seen it a hundred times, her eyes always sweep the room as if expecting to see something different or to find that this is a dream. Her lips parted in a delicate sigh as she carried herself with gentle footing across the wooden flooring.

They are not poor, but by no means do they have any change to spare. This home has two rooms, a single bath, a kitchen, and a living area. It's small—but cozy.

There is not enough money to afford the luxury of magical appliances. Nor to afford more than what is needed.

She's owned this dress since she was thirteen. Thankfully, the only way she's grown since then is perhaps in a slight bit of curves.

Selene steps out of her room to stare at the wooden door of her parents' room. After a moment, she turns to the left and comes into the small area where the kitchen and living room meet.

With graceful motion, she slips into her chair at the table. It could be set for a party of four, but there have only ever been three of them.

"Did you get the shoes polished like I'd asked?" A male's deep voice came from the left of the table.

Selene's eyes drifted towards her father's as she nodded. No verbal response, but an acknowledgment. When it was noticed that she'd given some form of acknowledgment, her eyes went back to her plate.

She only ever ate what was set in front of her. Her mother would drop things in hopes she'd eat more, but this child never did. From the day she'd woken up with nothing but her first name, she'd eaten very little.

There's an ache in her chest, a terrible and painful ache. The things she's missing, the people and the life she must have had... she wonders if it's the source of her strange ache.

"It's been five years and she's still incapable of holding a conversation. Beth, you're going to have to get this child educated and adapted eventually." The father spoke with slight annoyance to his wife, who sat at his right, across from their child.

"Mark, let's not do this right now, not in front of her." Once he'd been ecstatic to save a child with no past. However, the struggle of raising a child who at one point wouldn't so much as form a syllable must have killed that excitement.

"This Fae thing is going to cause us problems if she can't be useful. It was fine when she was younger, but it's been five years. She's an adult, but hasn't worked a day in her life outside meaningless chores an eight-year-old could do!" The boom of his voice echoed within the small home as he got louder.

Fae... Sel is used to the word. She's used to avoiding eye contact and wrapping her hair in a way so that her ears do not poke through. She's used to the look her father gives her here and there. She knows that is the part of her that made him almost turn his wife away when she'd come home with her. Yet, she's never been told the story. She's never been told what made this human woman pick her up. She doesn't know where she was found either.

"Mark!" Beth narrowed her eyes as if what he'd said was horrid and rancid. "You've helped raise her all this time, how can you speak so cruelly? We are working on it. She can at least speak now."

The scoff from the man of the house was evident, as his eyes, sharp as knives, bore down on the fae girl before him. "I'm beginning to think it's by choice that she does not talk."

Slowly, Selene rose to her feet, gave a small curtsy, then moved sluggishly to her room. As she closed the door without making a sound, she slid down the wood, still careful not to snag her dress.

She stared out the large glass doors, the only glass doors in the house. She watched the glimmer of the moon and the sparkling of the stars as they bathed the night in light. It only took a few minutes before the shouting took hold of their home.

"She needs to grow up and get over it." Mark grumbles.

"Mark, she's practically unable to! You know how I found her!" Beth's voice trembled as she tried to reason with her husband.

"That is no excuse! There are so many who have fought through or been witness to unspeakable horrors, but she's taking advantage of things." A cold and unsympathetic tone.

"Maybe if you tried to talk to her a bit instead of just to scold her, she'd be more open to talking with you! She can spare me whole sentences now." Beth shook her head raising her voice. "Just today she said, 'I'll be alright, Mom.' You just aren't seeing her progress! She used to wake from nightmares she could never express, but her sleep is silent now! Healing takes time. Who knows what she lost to have been found on death's doorstep!"

"Are you reprimanding me? My wife is telling me that I'm not doing my job? I work while you stay home and tend to this home. Do not tell me I am not doing an adequate job! This is not our child. Stop treating her like she's some miracle from the Gods. The Gods have not forgiven you for your miscarriage, she is not a gift. You'd do best to quiet your tongue!" A snap of cruel words he doesn't mean, but with his temper, the words fall.

The yelling tended to work this way. He'd be backed into a corner and eventually spit words like these in an attempt to hush his wife from placing any guilt on him.

In her room, Selene hadn't moved from her spot against her door. Her eyes stared hazy out the doors. She watched as the night began to move along.