Flashback Dreams of Another Spring

[Lyr]

Second day of Spring, 514 AV The stepped streets of Riverfalls second tier wound away from her up the cliff, the smooth beach spread calmly around her shoes. The waves, gentle today, were softly tugging away at the fine grains of sand, much like the worldwas to her, tugging and pulling at bits of her until they came away, until she left them to float out with the tides, and she just one of many beaches being torn by the waves. Lyr set out, walking along the shifting edge of the beach, one foot in front of the other along the flexing border of salt foam. The incomming wind blew her hair towards the city, it was long and silver in Leths glowing light, her horns a soft shade of rose cresting over her ears. Lyr walked at night because night was when she remembered best. She could piece together the confusion of thoughts, memories, and long forgotten desires that were locked up in her head. Most memories were faint remembrances from former lives, many so splintered and alien they seemed like dreams. Her most fleeting of memories were of Leths alabaster heaven in the sky. Any recollections of her time in the between lives was fragile and unsure as a winter leaf. She could remember faces from dreams, and visions of light in pale colors she couldn't begin to comprehend, but there was no way of knowing if they were true memories, or fantasies imagined by her unexplained longing. She supposed they were likely both, worlds and pictures created from the tiniest of fragments, more miniscule than the stars appeared reflected in the cold water of the Suvan sea. Often, when the memories appeared fresh, she wished there was more. She wanted to feel more, to understand more of what she was. What she had been before....this. Other times she wished she never remembered, that she could be a hundred percent Lyr, instead of feeling seperated from herself on nights like this when she remembered more than she wanted, when she was someone else for a second. Lyr turned around, walking back to the port, back to the steps that would lead her home. Riverfall was her home now. It had been nearly a year since her falling and yet the cruel persistent whispers of another life and time remained to remind her this wasn't her home. She didn't belong here, and she didn't think she would ever feel like she belonged. The whispers would always be there, naggling the back of her concious, she would never be free of those doubts.