Arwyne Feywatcher is one of the few Feywardens still living. She has few friends, preferring to commune with the animals and plants. Though she tells few people, she is incredibly resentful of the "Lost One" nickname given to her by almost everyone she meets.
Arwyne doesn't know how old she is. She woke up with no memory in the middle of a dense forest, being carried on a net made out of undergrowth by several pixies. She lay there in wait, trying to figure out what was going on, when she was dumped on a bed of moss and lichen in front of a huge faerie, presumably the ruler of wherever she was. The faerie was pale-skinned and had a wholly alien air about her, though Arwyne couldn't quite figure out why. "Young one," the faerie sung, "you are here to be trained in the ways of the Feywarden. A great evil is growing, though I don't know when it will appear."
Arwyne had a million questions - literally, she had a migraine for several days afterwards - but she was hushed by the pixies and led into a small treehouse, where animal pelts and various plants made a comfortable living space. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad.
A few hours later, she woke up to the glow of torches and the soft scream of the faeries. "Young one!" the ruler faerie screamed, "We must flee!" Arwyne was too bewildered to respond, until one of the villagers - undead-like in countenance - broke down her little door.
As she ran, she realized that she hadn't learned anything about being a Feywarden; but then, what about her past? She thought hard as she ran. She didn't think anymore, however, as the forest burned up behind her, getting hotter and hotter, and she heard the agony of nature clearly. Perhaps she was already one?
