Waves rush around me. White flushes of bubbles and snaps of red. There is pain. My eyes sting and I close them forcefully. I am flailing about and I desperately grab at the water as it flows out. My head is throbbing and I feel dizzy and disconcerted. The red that I saw was my blood. I pass out as an overwhelming flood of nausea wracks my already damaged body.

My face rests on pinpoints if tiny grains of sand. The discomfort though, is nothing compared to the pain in my head. My eyes feel dry as they flicker open and the glare of a flaming sun over dunes of sand in a pristine sky hits me and intensifies my sensations.

I hear a rhythm of ebb and flow, like a whispering lullaby, to my left. I want to know where the noise is from, a fascination with it seizes at me. I attempt to turn my head. My hair, stuck roughly to my face, stains red and again, darkness envelopes me.

I hear breathing above me. I feel arms wrapped around my back. Buttons on the arm dig painfully into my ribs. Who is carrying me? I wonder, though I am not particularly concerned. My face is pressed to a warm cloth and a coarse hand runs through my hair, carefully tracing around my wound and making me feel safe. I let thought run away.

Cold. Everywhere feels numbingly cold. I feel different, as if something is missing. Strong arms are supporting my shoulders with my head lolling back and my legs resting on a muddy bottom. The warm hands trail down and thumbs crawl between the skin on my hips and the cloth of my pants. They gently slide the pants off. I want to move and protest, but even the ability to see what is happening escapes me. I hear a mutter that mixes with the tinkling of the brook I am in. I catch the word "boy". I struggle and blink. My eyes are flung wide open and I see trees with autumn leaves towering above. The chilled air runs over me and my eyes retreat to show only a sliver of red and brown of the surroundings. The hands are removed for a moment, only to return with a rough cloth. It runs on my neck and cheeks and then I feel it dab at my scalp. My lips part and I let out a strangled whimper as I feel stabbing pain. The light I see is darkened by shadow as the hand flutters over my eyelids and a voice says, "settle down, you're alright"

When I wake again, the pain has numbed. Beneath me are heavenly soft pillows and blankets. My hair is clean and feels soft as golden locks caress my face. I easily open my eyes and sit up. The room is large and dim. Curtains cover each of the three giant windows on the walls. They are made of velvet and have silky ropes hanging beside them. There are four poles supporting a roof like structure on the bed. There are intricate carvings that my eyes strain to follow. I see a vase that is shone on by a thin beam of light. It rests on something like a table. Beside it are shapes and figures I cannot make out. I try to get up to better see the room. I notice that I am wearing a clean tunic made of fine cotton. I have pants that are just as soft as well. I shuffle the covers off and turn to face a wall. I place my feet on the cushiony rug and gingerly place my weight on them. I sway slightly and arms swing out for support. I regain my balance and slowly walk towards a window.

Behind me I hear a door open suddenly, breaking my concentration. I try to turn and instead, trip and land on the floor. Someone, probably the one who had carried me, with those warm strong hands, ran forward and knelt beside me. "I see you've woken up little angel" his voice seemed as gentle and perfect as that of a rich but soft feather. "I'm sorry I startled you" he said, guilt straining the perfect notes. I whimpered as I felt pain in my head once again and lifted my self onto my arms. I looked up to face my savior. It was a boy, around 16 or 17 years old. He had flawless pale skin. His hair, illuminated from the light from the door, was a beautiful shade of milk chocolate. It was soft and slightly curly. It cradled his face gently and looked completely natural. His eyes were a deep green. They were now rather large and tinted with concern. His eyebrows were perfect arches leaning down to a crease between them. His nose had a noble look about it. His lips were a rosy shade and looked like petals. His chin, as well as his nose, seemed royal. He was wearing a uniform of some sort. A blue jacket with many embellishments littered on the left. It was rimmed with golden thread and was obviously tailored specifically for my savior. A hand reached up and cupped my right cheek. His pinky coaxed my chin up and he seemed to let out a breath. "You have beautiful blue eyes," he murmured. We stayed there for some time before his hand dropped down and he pulled me up to sit beside him on his bed.

He stared at me some more before asking gently, "what is your name?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I searched my mind. It was so simple a question, yet I couldn't reach the answer. It seemed to be on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't think of anything. I panicked and trembled, feeling completely lost.

The other boy placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "that's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to"

I frowned; I did want to tell my savior. I wanted to tell him my name and give this kind person anything he wanted, but I couldn't.

His fingers brushed beneath my eyes and caught tears. "Don't cry," he said guiltily.

I found words, though they were far from what I wanted. "I don't know" I whispered, "I don't know my name". My eyes widened as tears continued to leak out.

He leaned back, confusion clear. "How old are you? Where are you from? Are you royalty? A prince?"

Again, I said, "I don't know"

He continued to stare and then said, "well, you look to be about 15 but I don't have any idea where you're from. " "Are you saying you can't remember or you were never told?"

I continued to cry, though I wasn't sure why. "I can't remember. Anything"

He pulled me in, squeezing me in a protective way that I liked and again ran his hand through my hair. "It's okay, you don't have to remember, and I'll stay with you. ... Fai."

I might have imagined the last word, but whether he had meant it to be there or not, the name sunk in and lulled me to sleep.