Faye [Character Profile]

Faye’s memories of her early life are vague for some unknown reason. The clearest memory that she can recall is watching a wild inferno devour a small white cottage. The blistering heat that stung her cheeks was something she remembered all too well. It felt like the intense waves of heat were trying to reach out to scratch her face. So odd, Faye couldn’t understand it. This fire was unnatural, the flames twisting above into what appeared to be images of monsters highlighted against the dark midnight sky. They grinned and cackled as the house continued to burn. Faye tries to brush it off as her childish imagination, but to this day she’s still not certain. It all seemed so real. Standing there in her pink singed nightdress, she stood frozen in place. Bright red blisters stretched from her tiny fingers all the way up to her elbows. Perhaps she obtained them as she escaped the cottage. However, the truth of that memory is out of her reach.  

Faye could never forget the pain that the burns caused. The sharp stinging sensation was pure agony and she could swear that the pain itself had a mind of its own. Above and beneath her skin it felt as if a thousand pin pricks were attempting to slowly peel off her flesh. Any normal child would have screamed bloody murder, but Faye did not. No, she was far too shocked at the horrifying scene before her. Due to the nerve damage the burns caused, Faye still has some numbness on her arms and hands.

It wasn’t long before the flames spread to the rest of the village, leaping and bounding from rooftop to rooftop as if possessed. Screams of terrified women and children echoed in her ears along with the shouts of frustrated men who struggled to gather pails of water. The villagers fought to put out the flames, but nothing helped. Faye nor anyone else had seen anything like it. The town was completely burned to the ground. It wasn’t until the morning that the flames died out, leaving nothing left but ash and charred memories. Many lost their lives that night. The fires had consumed the wood and straw houses so quickly that most did not have time to react.

Faye continued to look on at the remains of her home. The girl’s family was nowhere to be seen. That entire night she had stared at her home, waiting for her mother, father, and sister to come out alright, but they never did. She had no idea why. She couldn't remember at all and it frustrated her. Tears flowed from her eyes, dripping down onto the dry ash covered grass. How did the fire start? What exactly happened? Although Faye has tried time and time again to recall the events of her childhood that led up to the fire, the links of her memories involving that time are lost to her. As for the reason why this is, she has come up with no conclusion.

What she remembers next is hearing the townsfolks talk about her and how it was odd that Faye was the only survivor of her household. The girl had received no help. How could a youngling escape on her own when the rest of her family had perished? They knew of her potential for magic, wild and dangerous. They needed someone to blame. In their grief, fear, and ignorance, they turned on her. They claimed she was the one who started the fire. It was the first time she was ever called a witch, an image she associated with ugly evil hags.

As terror flooded through her veins, the only way the child knew how to react was to run. Scared and distraught, the girl fled from the ruins of her village, running as fast as she possibly could. Even when her muscles and lungs were begging for relief, she did not stop, fearing that she would be caught by the villagers that scorned her so. For a brief moment, she stopped when she came upon the entrance of a strange forest. Going deeper could be dangerous, but she didn’t linger on it, charging straight through the moment she heard the stomp of heavy footsteps behind her. So many thoughts clouded her mind as she pushed through the brush of the forest. Were they right? Had she been the one who started the fire? Had she killed her Family? The family whose faces she could hardly remember. It pains her that even now she can barely remember them. Sometimes she wonders if they were even real.

“No!” she told herself over and over again. “I’m innocent! I’m innocent! I would never hurt them! No!” with a thump, the girl’s foot caught on an unearthed root, sending her sprawling across the dirt. The hard rough ground was merciless, shoving pebbles against her burned arms as she rolled and tumbled. Faye wailed, sitting up and cradling her seared arms against her chest.  

Sobbing and wiping the snot from her nose, she huddled up against a nearby tree. Surely the men wouldn’t dare go this far and she was right. No one traveled so deeply into the forest where the fairies dwelled. The fairies were both loved and feared. There were those that were bubbly and kind, spreading goodness wherever they went, but there were also fairies that were cruel and malevolent.

For a good while Faye sat there and cried, grieving for her family. Never had she felt so lost and helpless. With her face hidden by her hands, she had no idea that someone had walked up behind her. A hand touched her shoulder and the girl was sure it was one of the villagers, but when she spun around, she was met with a different face. A tall woman stood before her garbed in clothes made of bright green leaves and flora. Aside from her beige skin, this woman was green from her hair to her toes. Faye was frightened by this intimidating woman, but she had no reason to be.

The woman introduced herself as Rosethorn, one of the fairies dwelling within the forest. Rosethorn was not a bad fairy, however, she was quite hostile when humans entered near her glade and caused destruction. It was her home and intruders were punished. The fairy thought very little of them… so you can understand how Faye’s opinions were influenced. (After hearing all the stories Rosethorn told her and her own bad experience, it was easy for Faye to become bitter towards her own kind.) Children were a different story. Rosethorn understood that they were innocent and timid creatures.

Feeling pity for the child, the fairy took the girl into her home and raised her as her own. Under Rosethorn’s strict guidance, Faye was taught how to use magic since she already showed potential to be a fine mage. The art of fire seemed to come naturally to the girl, something that bothered her deeply for a time. As she grew older and stronger, her fire spells began to change color, turning from a natural red to a lovely violet as she learned to fuel more emotion and control over the flames. Eventually, she acquired the skill to manipulate the forces of plant and moon as well, but she is not nearly as adept in those elements as she is with fire.    

When she came of age, Faye became curious to see how life outside of the fairy glade had changed. It had been years since the incident that had chased her away. Surely that would have been long forgotten and not to mention she was no longer a child but a woman. No one would recognize her. More than anything, the young woman wanted to venture out on her own. Her mother warned her of what could happen, but Faye was ready to live a life of her own. Rosethorn understood and wished her adoptive daughter the best of luck.

Packing her belongings, she set out to create a life for herself. Everything started out well, but it increasingly became worse. It was not a pleasant experience and it only made Faye increasingly bitter towards others. The people she met were not the same ones she knew as a child and yet they were all the same. Those she met in her world quickly found her odd. When word got out where she was from, that seemed to make things even worse. It created rumors that she was a disciple of bad fairies and was just waiting to create a disaster that would hurt everyone. Eventually, Faye stopped trying to make friends altogether and accepted that she would never have any, at least of the humanoid variety.

Another few years passed on and before she knew it, Faye was turning twenty. Life became better with each day. A small but old stone hut was bought for her to live in along with a garden outside for her to grow herbs and vegetables. When she acquired her horse, she started to truly smile again. Horseback riding quickly became a favorite hobby of hers. Now working as a seamstress, she forces herself to go into town markets and set up a stall. As much as she dreads it, she knows she has to make a living somehow.