Private Finished Faraway Past

Varvara sat on the edge of the lake, staring at the water. The water was so serene, so calm, while her mind was in turmoil and storming. She hadn't even realized she was naked and her loose hair was draped around her like a curtain.
Ballerina.
How could such a small word start such an avalanche? Varvara held her head as all kinds of sounds, sensations and pictures filled the void she had always had at the back of her mind. They confused her as they barged in, tried to take over her identity. Her very being.
Had Varvara even had an identity before? She didn't know. Who was she? What was happening?!
Varvara hugged herself tightly, she was still here. She was Varvara, the rain nymph. She had existed for 17 years. She loved to learn new things.
But in her mind there was forming a picture. A picture of a similar person, the kind of kind, polite, happy person she was now. But that person had had a life. A family. Everything...
Varvara cried. She cried for the first time in her seventeen years of existence. No, she had existed before. She had existed. She knew it now. And the feeling was freeing, but at the same time...
It terrified her.
Varvara was too busy stopping herself from wailing so she didn't hear the sound of wings closing in.

@Saber

Varvara, even through the mess that was her mind at this moment, heard Tristan's voice. Why was that? Varvara, her eyes wet from tears, turned to look at him. He had put his jacket on her, and she hadn't even noticed. Varvara gritted her teeth, squeezed Tristan's jacket, when she saw the expression he had. Tristan was concerned for Varvara, he cared.
The warmth from Tristan's hand and wings, and his kind words and concern finally made Varvara break down. She started wailing and buried her face in Tristan's chest, not remembering her nudity at all. All she was aware of was her splitting immortal soul and Tristan's warmth. It was so comforting, and Varvara spent a long time just yelling and crying against Tristan. The whole time somewhere in the back of her mind Varvara made the notion that she should apologize to Tristan for ruining his shirt and making him uncomfortable.
After a while Varvara was able to calm down, take deep breaths, and have the sense to cover herself. Even if Varvara didn't have breasts she knew it wasn't proper. Varvara inhaled and looked Tristan in the eyes.
"Forgive me, I ruined your shirt."
Varvara raised her hand and wiped her cheeks, some tears were still trickling through. Varvara had a feeling they wouldn't stop in a while.
"I just...Tristan, I...I used to be alive. I was mortal."
Varvara swiped some hair away from her face and her voice broke as she said the next words.
"I was human."

Tristan was so very kind, his words stabilized Varvara's mind. He hugged Varvara and Varvara let him, leaning into it. She let herself be lulled by his warmth, by the warmth it brought inside her. Varvara sighed, it did feel nice that someone understood. But...
"Tristan, no. No..."
Varvara slowly shook her head and mustered up a small, sad smile. She didn't want to leave Tristan's arms but she needed to look at him, so she pulled away.
"Tristan, I am saying I remember, it all...came back, I guess. Like it was never gone. Tristan..."
Varvara took Tristan's hands and brought them to her lips. She remembered now, someone used to do it to her. It was done when a great, deep thank you was in order.
"You are too kind to me, too kind. I have no right to regain my memories when you are left without answers. I apologize."
Varvara smiled at Tristan, her usual smile this time, or close enough.
"I know I am well kept here, I know I am not alone. But...I just remembered a lifetime. Well, not a lifetime. Seems like I *shiver* died when I was around 20."
Varvara looked at Tristan, with a serious expression.
"This doesn't change me. Looks like my life was...unfullfilled. Tristan, may I tell? Will you listen?"

Varvara would be eternally grateful to Tristan, she knew it already. And eternity, yes, a second chance she had been given. But...
"I shall tell you. But first I must be dressed. Could you kindly turn around?"
Varvara twirled her finger and smiled. She waited for Tristan to turn around and then she slipped back on her dress. She told Tristan it was fine to turn around by circling before him and giving him his jacket back.
"Tristan, I will never forget this. You are an existence that's important to me now, I hope you will be fine with that."
Varvara inhaled and exhaled and started telling her story as she pieced it together.
"I was born...in China. Yes, a country called China. My parents were mongolian and named me Varvara. My whole name was Varvara Yu. My family was very poor, and I was the youngest child. I had, yes, three elder sisters and one brother. Brother Yeng was treated like a king and we rest had to fight for scraps. I often lost. I was thin, very thin. I grew up accordingly."
Varvara hugged herself, these memories were painful. But she was about to get to the happier ones.
"One night there was a bomb. I was out raiding trash cans, looking for food. I got bavk, there was no home. No building. I was cold. Very cold. I lived on the street for a long time, if I remember right from when I was 5 to when I was 7 or 8. Then one day I fell asleep in front of a theater and dance group building. They picked me up. Miss Ume picked me up."
Varvara smiled at the memory, miss Ume's arms had been as warm as Tristan's. Varvara squeezed Tristan's hands, grateful that he was there.
"They taught me how to read, to write a little. I could write my own name, Varvara. I could also write our troupe leader's name, Samuel. They taught be singing, and ballet, the lessons were very strict. But it was new, it wasn't that small apartment, or the streets. It set me free. I danced so much, I became good at singing and dancing, frighteningly good. I remember many hated me. But I only needed the dancing, never saw anything else. Never needed to experience anything...new."
Varvara laughed, so that was where she got it.
"I was 13 when I debuted and was famous from then on. The whole China knew me, needed me. Wanted me. I loved every second of it, basked in the glory. I was a horrible person Tristan. I thought I was better than everyone else. I was only nice to those who awknowledged my greatness, helped me gain higher standing. A horrible person."
Varvara shook her head. She was reaching the end.
"I gained many who hated me, wanted me dead even. I remember when I was 20 and was supposed to dance a big lead role. I would've sang as well. But before the first performance I was knocked unconcious. And when I woke up they beat me, nearly to death. I pleaded them, begged them to spare me. But they just hit me, kicked me, wanted to kill me. And when I woke up again I was across the border in Mongolia. They had left me to die. And I did. I froze to death."
Now Varvara understood why she couldn't feel cold. She had been so often so cold in her other life. There had been ice in her veins.
"The next thing I remember is a voice, telling me to choose. Choose, if I wanted to go by my blood and reincarnate as nymph, or if I wanted to let my soul rest and move on. I wanted to live, it had been such a fleeting life. I went by my blood. I chose eternity."
Varvara frowned and stared at the ground.
"How could I have been so selfish? I was a horrible person. I didn't deserve to live. And so many people thought the same they killed me. They killed me Tristan! They....killed me."

Varvara couldn't believe Tristan was still so kind to her, even after she had been the kind of person she hated the mist in her past life. Well, maybe that was why Varvara hated those kinds on people. She had hated herself.
Some silent tears fell on Varvara's cheeks as she could feel the memories, her life, set and fall into place. And like Tristan said, she stayed the same. Varvara was still the Varvara everyone knew. In fact, she really wanted to try some new foods with Tristan and maybe learn a new song.
A song...
"Tristan, I feel like I can sing now."
Smiling, Varvara stood up, letting go of Tristan's hands, and stepped some steps back. And then she started to sing. It was the song she should've performed a long time ago. A life ago. It was a tradic song about loss.
Varvara could feel this singing wasn't going to lull anyone into a trance. It was just her, her normal voice. It was clear, high and flowed out smoothly and freely. With it Varvara released her sadness, her anger, her bitterness and other feelings that her new, no, old memories had brought with them. And Varvara re-made herself, she wasn't the Varvara of her last life. She was the good, kind Varvara Tristan and everyone else knew her as. She was the Varvara who loved to wander in the woods, who brought the rain, asked a lot of questions about inappropriate things. And she was Varvara who could sing for others, for Tristan.
When Varvara finally stopped singing she went back to Tristan and pressed her forehead to his.
"Thank you."