[ Eladrin ] [ Aestetica | Paragons | Court of Stars ]
The Forgotten
Free Even From Memory, the Unremembered Guide (planar eladrin empyreal lord [gender unknown] / CG)
Portfolio: Benevolent forgetfulness
Realm: Unknown
So you want the dark on the Forgotten, eh cutter? Now that’s a tricky one—even among the eladrin themselves, this empyreal lord’s more rumour than reality, a name whispered and then lost. Some say they’re called “Free Even from Memory,” others just “the Forgotten”. Most can’t agree if they ever truly existed, or if that’s just the point.
Piecing together the clues, the chant goes that the Forgotten is the gentle eraser of pain, a balm for memories too heavy to bear. They ease the burdens of the mind, not through oblivion, but by letting go with kindness. They stand for the freedom found in releasing the past, moving beyond old wounds, regrets, and failures. Their followers teach that clinging on tightly to every memory is a ball and chain, not a treasure.
The Forgotten is both present and absent, a being who exists only as long as no one tries too hard to remember them. Their power is in the spaces between recollections, the gaps in stories, the peace after grief fades.
As for their appearance, well there’s the rub—no two bloods can agree. Some say the Forgotten appears as an eladrin whose features always slip from your mind the moment you look away. Others recall a shadow in the shape of a person, woven from mist and the petrichor scent of rain after a long drought. Their presence is soothing, it’s said, like the memory of a lullaby that you’ve forgotten the words to.
The Forgotten is gentle, serene, and endlessly patient. They never force, never demand—just offer a quiet release from burdens you’re ready to let go. They’re the friend who listens without judgment, the hand that helps you set down your heaviest pack. There’s a sadness to them, sure, but also a deep, abiding joy in seeing souls set free from their own histories.
Why Have They Forgotten?
Some say the Forgotten chose this obscure path, sacrificing their own identity so that others could find peace. Others claim they were once a great hero or lover, who gave up everything—even the memory of themselves—for a greater good. The consequence? They’re a paradox: a power who can never be worshipped, because devotion would only anchor them to memory, and that’s the very chain they seek to break.
Their followers—if you can call them that—tend to be those seeking to move on: the bereaved, the guilt-ridden, the traumatised, the cutters who have moved on from their past and chosen new identities. These bashers perform simple rituals of letting go, often forgetting the details as soon as the act is done. The Forgotten’s greatest miracles are the ones you can’t quite recall, but leave you lighter all the same.
May you be free even from memory
—Arborean saying, when wishing someone a fresh start
Do They Even Exist?
That’s a big question, cutter. Some graybeards argue the Forgotten is just a story, a bit of collective wishful thinking made manifest by Arborean magic. Others swear they’ve met them—only to realise, later, they can’t remember a thing about the encounter except the peace that it brought. In the end, whether the Forgotten exists or not, their influence is real: the relief after mourning, the freedom after forgiveness, the healing that comes when you finally let go.
The Philosophy of Letting Go teaches that goodness doesn’t cling on—it releases. To forgive, to forget, to move forward without bitterness: these are some of the greatest acts of mercy. They remind us that not every memory needs to be a lesson, and not every scar needs to be worn forever. In a multiverse obsessed with stories and legacies, the Forgotten is the champion of the right to be free from both of those.
Among the eladrin, the Forgotten is both honoured and pitied. Some see them as the ultimate liberator, others as a tragic figure. Their presence is felt most in quiet corners—groves where grief fades, crossroads where regrets are left behind. If they’ve ever appeared at the Court of Stars, nobody recalls.
Their aestetica is unknown, but their symbol is a blank mask. Whether or not they have a realm is unknown, but it’s likely that if they did, a berk wouldn’t remember if they visited it anyway.
Now this might all be screed, but I’ve heard a tale among Sigil’s touts that there’s a nameless guide who leads lost souls out of the Mazes, only to vanish when you turn to thank them. A coincidence? I don’t know.
The Forgotten is the blank page left after the story has ended. In a cosmos where every power wants to be remembered, they’re the antidote who’s found strength in just letting go.
Source: Bestiary 1 [PF1e] p23 (name only); Jon Winter-Holt