A once noble and respected war hero of the Faerie Kingdom, once revered for her efforts in driving back the forces of the corrupted Beasts. Unfortunately, her mysterious ailment that prevents her from remembering the events of the war, as well as messes with her ability to recognize and identify the names and faces of her peers and acquaintances, she is now kept away from the public eye due to her... instability. Now she sits disgraced and waiting, shut away within her noble house's territory, wondering when... or if, her circumstances will ever change. Preferably, for the better.
As a rare instance of a Faerie halfling during times of old, when the eventually-corrupted Virtues still reigned pure and true, having not yet turned their backs on cookiekind, Faelight Cookie had been abandoned on her noble family's doorstep. She had been surrendered to her Faerie father, who despite the unimpressed, distasteful reactions of his relatives, took her in happily and full of love.
She had grown up alongside the then young Prince Faerie Dust Cookie, often having to be protected by him due to her reckless nature, with no wings to aid her in escaping if trouble came her way. She had learned to fight as a faerie with his guidance, yet it only worked so well when said methods were meant for those who could fly -- therefore, she eventually had to develop her own fighting style, with her trusted whip.
As they aged, and the Prince was eventually crowned the King of their kingdom, their chemistry brought into question her candidacy as a potential queen... as unfavorable as that was, due to the uncertainty around her lifespan. What would be the point of anointing a Faerie Queen if she would simply be a blip in their population's longevity? Although she would later prove this uncertainty to be wrong, there continued to be lingering doubts, much to her chagrin.
It was no matter, however, as she did not seek the throne, nor was she interested in keeping Faerie Dust's heart. But their friendship, however, meant far more than what status and love could give her. So they remained such.
Soon came the time for when establishing allyship with the Virtues, or at least establishing relations in regards to Faerie Dust's reign, became a necessary development. Faelight, alongside others of other noble houses, were selected by Faerie Dust (who by now had taken on the mantle of Elder Faerie) to travel from every territory to the next within Beast-Yeast.
From then on, relations had been amiable... friendships had been made, and were thought to be lasting and fruitful. But one by one, there seemed to be a shift that would gradually lead to each of the Virtue's fall from grace, and when that inevitable implosion of what remained of their morality set off against cookiekind and their sins, the Faerie Kingdom -- and Faelight, by extension -- was dragged into their wars, in attempt to quell their rage and thirst for jamshed.
Her memories of those wars, however, seem to be missing. Memories of those meaningful friendships... also seem to be absent.
At some point during these conflicts, she had been inflicted with a strange ailment. Whether a curse or disease, or maybe even some botched remedy, prevented her from crumbling away during the wars, encasing half of her face in silver, and filling in the cracks of her dough with scars of metal. There had been changes in her behavior when she was rescued from the battlefield and returned home, having initially been erratic, panicked, and easily aggitated. War induced trauma, it was surmised, and she was pitied by those she gave everything to fight for.
Her own house would eventually remove her as its head, deeming her too unstable to be in the public eye, if not the source of their growing shame, and would hide her away on their estate. Elder Faerie, out of his own concern, would establish his younger brother, Faerie Ring Cookie, as her retainer.
The happenings within the kingdom and continent would be gradually kept from her, keeping her sheltered, pleasant, and pliant, even as her hidden unhappiness grew. She spent the countless years, learning to master painting so she could desperately find some way of remembering faces and names and fight her cognitive disability (she would write the names of the faces she'd paint on the back of her canvases, but... she would even forget to check that) ... and yet even then, as she sits in the cage of her home and her own mind, she yearns for the outside world, to be greeted with genuine smiles and open arms of her loved ones without weariness and pity, and the promise of adventure once again.
She misses her freedom, and she yearns for a life without the staleness of loneliness.
