They called me “the girl without a yesterday.” Rarely ever around me. I’d mostly ever hear it in the silence between conversations, feel it in the way people looked at me when I passed by.

I didn’t disagree with them though. It was sometimes hard to believe if I had a yesterday before I came here.

I knew I did though. I had a few small memories left.

Not names, faces, or places. Nothing useful.

Just… the scent of rain on steel. The crunch of frost beneath boots that weren’t mine. The warmth of someone’s hand, pressed against my cheek. Someone screaming my name which I didn’t remember. Gone in an instant—like a dream smothered by morning light.

I kept those fragments tucked inside me like a deep dark secret. Because here, in Oran Dwell, if people thought you were crazy, you got neglected a lot and no one would listen to you even if you told them the banana’s were in the pantry.

Well that was just an example.

I was sitting up and against my bed with a sketch pad on my lap and a pencil in my hand. I had been here for two hours now in this exact spot, but I hadn’t gotten far on my sketch. Only the outline of the broad shoulders, strong jaw, thick hair. No face. I couldn’t get the face. It was as if the memory refused to come back. I didn’t even know who or what I was drawing. I could just remember the outline. Barely.

I sighed putting my sketch pad and pencil down on the bed. I look out the window watching the left over rain drops drip down the screen of my window.

I glanced at my buzzer.

6:30. About when I always got up and ready for the day.

I sighed again climbing off my bed and to my dresser with the little mirror on it.

I stared at my messy black hair and dark brown eyes.

Well, time for another day of….confusion.

I put my hair up in a messy bun and then got out of my cream colored PJ and into the same old sweats and a soft light pink shirt. Then slowly walked out my bedroom door, dreading the day already.

I walked into the kitchen to see some of the only faces I recognized—the family who had taken me in.

They said they had found me unconscious and laying on the ground. They said I had several wounds too and for days they didn’t think I would make it.

I did though, but my memories hadn’t.

They said I had no head injuries, so it couldn’t have been brain damage.

So they also said that it might have been because of blood loss.

But that wouldn’t have made me lose basically all of my memories.

They didn’t know what had happened to me, and I hated that.

There were so many mysterious. Like why was my mark on my cheek that looked a lot like a dimple, not a dimple. It was a scar. And I had a scar on my knee too and several on my arms. Maybe it was from when this family found me? But they said I only had a one big gash on my arm, and was covered with bruises and my face was covered in soot and ashes. So maybe I had been in a fire and somehow got over here in this small village?

I didn’t know. But I did know I hadn’t come from thin air.

I sat down at the table next to my barely older half sister. She was older than me by one month. And I was barely even part of the family. I had been here only for five months.

Unlike me, Cincila, my half sister, was one of those fancy girls. She didn’t have too much makeup on, but a lot compared to me especially since I didn’t wear any makeup. She had three pairs of clothes while I had one, unless you count my pajamas. And she was always wearing a necklace and a bracelets. We also didn’t look anything alike. She had natural curly blonde hair and blue eyes and a sweet pretty face with freckles. We got along pretty well, except when I was around her friends with her.

If I was she sorta disowned me. As if I was immediately an embarrassment. Which was really annoying at times, but I kept it in and just forced a smile at times while she rambled about her parents finding some weird girl on the ground and decided to take her in.

I mean sometimes I did feel embarrassed about things when people got around a boom fire and told funny or embarrassing stories that had happened to them. While I just sat there hoping no one would even bother to ask me.

I saw flashes though of memories and felt anger in one of them.

I stormed away being angry at something, but then slipped and spilled a bucket of blue berries all over me.

There was laughter behind me, and then the same person helping me up.

I shook my head. More flashbacks. Sometimes I liked them and other times I didn’t. Especially when they were my nightmares.

“Remi?” Cincila snapped and I realized she had said my name several times.

I realized I was staring at my food, my chin resting on my hand while my other hand moved the food from one side to the other with the fork.

I quickly looked up to see my parents, sister, and brother, who was only one year younger than me, staring at me.

Cincila’s eyes were sharp and annoyed, my parents look confusingly and bored at me, as if this was normal, and my brother’s, Milo, eyes soft and kind, understanding me better then anyone on this world that I knew.

“Ah…sorry. Got zoned out again.”

Cincila snorted softly. “Yeah. AGAIN.”

“How are you feeling sweetie?” My half mom asked that I had just barely started to call mom since she had suggested it.

I shrugged. “Good. I just got zoned out.”

I went back to my food about to take a bit when bells started sounding.

My parents jumped up out of their seats.

“They’re here. Again. This is great cause I got lots of things to sell or trade.” Dad said.

Cincila quickly stood up. “Wait! I’m not even in my best clothes.”

Dad rolled his eyes grumbling as he hurried out the door, “We’re not selling you Cincila. You don’t need to go out there.”

“But there Elathenes! I can’t miss them.” Cincila quickly ran to her room while my mom shook her head smiling and walking out the door dad had gone out.

Elathenes were people that held magic in objects that only Elathenes could use. Some people knew there were Elathenes since there were born because their parents were magic holders before. And others didn’t figure out that they could use objects with magic until they were already grown up.

The Elathenes were already here. You could kinda already tell if they were Elathenes because they usually always were caring an object around which had a power inside. Most all different powers. They had things like sword, necklaces, armor, crowns, metal sticks that they used like a wand.

All sort of things.

I liked those people. There was just something about them. I mean they did all look really cool. Some people even had physical things change about them from the magical objects they held. Lots of people had streaks in their hair that wasn’t any normal hair color. Some of them became stronger, Oni’s other’s extremely smart. Or sometimes there clothes changed to match the object. Either like armor, something more elegant, or others mysterious. They all looked cool in their own way.

Maybe that’s why Cincila was determined to marry an Elathene.

She was already talking to one. A boy about her age with light blonde hair and hazel eyes. He looked bored though and I smiled. I doubt she would have much luck with him.

I started towards Cincila bumping into a lot of people on accident and mumbling sorry. Until I hit into someone, they force a lot stronger since they had been rushing, and nearly made me fall over.

They grabbed my wrist to keep me from falling quickly saying, “Sorry!”

After regaining my balance I looked up to meet green eyes.

I jumped back slightly. Those eyes. I knew them. Somehow.

It was a boy, looking about 18. He had dark brown hair, so dark it nearly look black, with a few strings of hair colored dark green. His hair was very thick and was about an inch longer than usually. He wore a sleek, tailored coat made out of black leather, reinforced along the shoulders and chest. The inner lining of the coat flashes green silk when it moves or catches the light. He wore black leather boots as well and there were twin daggers at his hip, with the hilts dark emerald green. He was an Elathen, but somehow I seemed to know him.

I realized he was studying me too, and his jaw was dropped.

“Your…” he whispered barely, “alive….”