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I wish I could just write unreadable scripts but that's against the rules.

Please fuck off.

Do Not Fear

~°°~

Beady eyes fluttered open, meeting the blurry wooden boards above and the tangled herbs that hung loosely on them. Sharp scent of odd spices and potions, filled their nostrils. The Healing Lodge.

Memories sprung into their mind. Immediately, they sat up. Eris grunted at the movement as a dull throb from their right shoulder stabbed and scornfully stung. It felt heavy, bandaged and littered with healing glyphs.

"Eris!" Boreas voice cried out, worry and concern shadowed his tone. The boy sat near her bedside, a squatting Lethe beside him. "Are you feeling okay? Do you want water? Should I call the nurse?" He began to panic. "Nurse—!"

"I'm fine. But, the man!" Eris gasped out. Their breaths came out uneven, mind reeling, still remembering the way red blossomed and consumed. They gulped. "What happened to—is he okay? The guy who... Exploded?"

The two looked at them oddly as if they sprouted another head.

"Fucking pardon?" Lethe owlishly blinked. Her tanned hands were tangled on some potion book, curly hair tied into a messy ponytail. She looked at Boreas seriously. "Woe is us, I think they fell so hard that it knocked off their last brain cell and briefly sent them to the alternate worlds."

Eris blinked, mind swirling. The two of them were there; they surely had seen it.

Eris clutched the side of their head. It throbbed and pounded, heavy and hot as if it was smashed against to the ground. "I—what? I don't understand?"

"Well, you fell from a tree." Boreas ran a hand over his hair as he subtly shared a bewildered look with Lethe. "And you slept for exactly one hour, thirty minutes and four seconds."

Eris blinked as they raved, "I fell from a tree? But there was a man! He exploded. I saw it. You saw it." They racked their brain for something but drew a blank. They rested their head back into the comforts of the warm pillow, dazed and confused. The pounding on their head had not stopped. "I really fell from a tree?"

"Okay, I was joking earlier," Lethe said, snapping her book shut. "Now, I'm worried." The brunette poked her limp arm. "Boreas, can a person become insane due to broken arms?"

"I am not insane," they said, hotly, eyes glazed as they raised up their unbroken arm. "I just—Wait. What happened to my...?"

The tips of their left fingers had turned bluish, clashing against her dark skin. They felt cold, as if the warm blood in them were sucked away. The oddity seemingly wanted to tell a story and maybe if they stared much more, they would have deciphered the tale in their skin.

"Apparently, that was just there when they saw you. I don't know. Maybe, you touched something?" Lethe's crooked nose crinkled, as her shoulders were raised into a confused shrug. "Boreas?" She asked the boy. "What do you think?"

"Do you think I know?" Boreas snapped.

"Wait, if I slept for an hour—did we miss the Graduation?" Eris yelped and sat up straighter, looking as if they were about to sprint. They ignored the ache in their injured arm. "But the plan?"

They stared at the two. The brunette gulped, opened her book once again, and did not look at Eris' eyes.

Boreas shook his head, strands of ivory black hair neatly following the movement, hands in his pockets as he sardonically replied, "It was doomed to fail anyway. Lethe can't find the invisibility potions. She misplaced them."

"I was sure I put it into the bag," she mumbled, dropping the book to her lap. She fidgeted with her beloved necklace. The three nails jangled on the flimsy string around her neck. Why Lethe loved it so much, they had no idea. (When they asked Lethe grinned, "Because I—" the brunette twirled. "—am—" She did another extremely dramatic twirl. "—different.") With a push, it could easily fall off and pierce her toes. Boreas hoped it would so that she'll finally stop wearing it around.

Their chat was interrupted by a clack of shoes against the wooden floor. The door opened wide, and one of the school nurses entered in. Tall and lanky with hollowed features, and sunken eyes full-ridden with eyebags. His tacky, bluish gray tunic, smelled quite odd and it hung to his body unevenly. Mop-like ebony hair, with tinges of gray flopped all over his head. Gazing at Eris up and down, he asked some questions with interest as flat as his voice.

"Well, they're fine," he tutted. "Just don't move your left arm too much, ID 13.190—"

"Sir," began Boreas, ever so diligent. "They've been having some.." he clicked his tongue as he searched for the right word, "Memory issues ever since they woke up. I don't think—"

"Memory issues?" The nurse paused, eyes widening and dimming. He blinked and it was back to normal as he caressed his stubble chin. "Well, she did fall headfirst, bled quite a lot and got a concussion. Odd hallucinations could happen." He took out a potion from his pouches. Its golden contents gleamed magnificently. "Drink this. It will help you."

Eris caught it with ease. An eerie sense of deja vu stabbed her.

"Well, I'll be off." The nurse fixed up his tunic. It did not do anything to his dishevelled state. "Apparently, there's a kid that got his arm stuck in the mirror," he grumbled, pinching his sharp nose. The nurse turned around as he muttered about the school system under his breath as his lopsided shoes pattered on the floor and thin fingers wrapped around the door handle.

"Sir," called out Eris. "But what about the blue stain on my fingers? What happened to them?"

"Oh, don't worry about it." The nurse's eyes twinkled and his lips twitched into a smile. "It'll be gone soon." Just like that, the door opened and he was gone.

Eris pried the vial open and gulped down the potion in one swig. They ignored the blue tint on their fingers. They dismissed their stirring gut and screaming intuitions. The exploding man was only in their dreams. And the shadows they see on corners were theirs. Of course, it was. Why would men explode in these walled cities?

~°°~

The Dome was halved into two circular layers; the First Sector and Second Sector. Each governed by Head Professors who received direct orders from the Principal. Eris and one hundred forty-nine more students lived on the outer layer, the First Sector. That was until they reach sixteen. The Ownership Ceremony would be held then the top sixty would go through the Second Sector, with the permission to own a Peculiar.

Peculiars; the reason why classes ragged on and hours weighed—all to prove that they were worthy of it. History, training, magic theory, potions, glyph and such. All lessons fazed by like a blur. Blue tinted fingers forever curled around a pen, ink on paper to write scraggly, print handwriting and head eternally poring over sticky notes.

The clock ticked, the numbers imprinted on its round frame seemingly glaring from above.

Sweat poured down. Black eyes searched the class, strangely did not see a certain someone. Eris shook their head and went back to studying—it didn't matter. Books and the smell of paper suffocated their nostrils. If they had to read a million books and choke on test papers to see the sky, then so be it.

Eris blinked, realizing their pen was missing. "Are you fucking, kidding—"

The clock chimed, marking the end of the class. Eris frustratedly scratched their hair, looking at that one blank slot. They passed their answer sheet with a sigh and followed the students rushing out of the classroom.

Soon enough, Eris found themselves on the Dining Hall, hands clasped together as the Head Professor of the First Sector—Professor Helica—muttered thanks to the gods they hadn't met and prayed for the future they hadn't seen. The prayers echoed on the empty halls and reached the snickering chandeliers hung on the painted ceilings. The cluttering of spoons and plates chattered on as the students dined and drank. Sweet aroma of freshly cooked chicken soup and potato pies made Eris' stomach succumb. Loud growls of their intestines rang out.

Floating candles flew around—one smacking Eris in the head (they didn't take it kindly when the trio had done the experiment that burned down the library and 'killed' one of their kind). Ginormous mirrors nailed at the walls, a bit too high for it to be of actual use. As usual, the large circular clock flew above, gawking as it ticked menacingly, counting for its own demise.

Lethe felt eyes on her as she ate a slice of the pie. When she turned, the blonde girl sitting on a secluded corner directed her eyes to her food.

It was silent; talking while eating was prohibited, as well as eating too much or too little. Although some didn't follow these sentiments. On the corner of their eyes, Eris caught Thalia Kruger—ID 67.130—subtly hand Helen Sevhe—ID 2.98—a potato pie under the table.

Eris' bright black eyes swerved on every corner, and once again, did not see a certain student with gleaming auburn hair and rounded glasses dining in any of the three tables.

"Looking for your rival?" Lethe whispered as she slumped next to them, also from her last class. "I heard Gullerva went to the Healing Lodge. Right after you left. How petty. I like it."

"I hope she was teetering on pain while waiting," Eris huffed, stuffing the rest of their pie into her mouth. Boreas wrinkled his nose in disgust as some bits spluttered out. "Wuf happem to her?"

Lethe opened her mouth to speak when Boreas murmured on their ears, "We aren't supposed to talk when eating."

Eris peered at the professors' table in front. There's a new face, it seemed. "It's not like the Professors will see us." Boreas sighed as if to secretly say that, that wasn't the point. They ignored him and surged forward, head tilting as they asked, "So, what happened to her, Lethe?"

"Ehem, so anyways," Lethe turned to Eris, ignoring the furious boy. "Gullerva also got her arm injured."

"Huh." Eris paused. They glanced at their now well arm. "My injury was worse right?"

Boreas gawked at her in disbelief. "Are you seriously competing even about who has the worse injuries?"

"Oh, let them be, Boreas. It might be the only competition Eris might win against." Lethe said. She took a slice of those odd favorites of hers—orange pies— and ate it.

Rycella Gullerva, ID 0.107, was one of the top achievers in class, the top candidate for the Elderstire position. Calm, articulate and cold; she reigned in the leader-boards, perfected almost all subjects and ruled the school with her calloused hands.

Eris sulked in obvious disagreement as they downed their cup of orange juice. "So..." they dragged the word as they placed down their cup. "Has Senior Kai written to either of you yet?"

"No. Not yet," stated Boreas. He chomped down his slice of pie, his pinkie out as he held the fork. Very demure. "He will, though. He promised to us."

The words marked the end of the conversation. The quiet clicking of utensils rang on their ears, and as fast as it was served, the feast was soon over. Eris numbly stared at their empty plate, still feeling the pangs of hunger. The clock above rung, signaling that the students would be off to their dorms soon. Eris had memorized the schedule. And yet, something was amiss.

Professor Helica stood, primly coughing to get the students' attention. The plump woman proceeded to speak, "Before you all head back to your respective dorms, I would like to first announce two things."

She wrung her veiny hands together, skin withered and wrinkled by age—she cleared her throat. "First, Head Professor Ilor Buhrn, ID 89.432, of the Second Sector had decided to retire, due to unforeseen health issues. Please welcome Professor Fasbur Jhlor who will replace in his stead."

The said Professor stood up. The most striking thing about this man was the large, gaping scar near their left eye. Long and dark brown hair with strands of silvery gray, tied in a neat pony tail. Their hands were gloved, clutching a cup of coffee. Filled to the rim.

"The other announcement." Professor Helica breathed out. "The Principal has decided that Ownership Ceremony will be held in advance. Tomorrow, to be precise. Of course, this also means that your Graduation will be held in advance as well."

A spoon clattered to the ground and the alarmed voices of the students shouted in unison.

The Dome provided everything—a warm bed, food, water from the deep wells, a sturdy, cemented shelter and the bright cascading light. Really, in these walls and its comforts, it was easy to forget how everything was supposed to be and unless one squinted, the demons and the darkness on the beyond seemed non-existent. There was safety behind youth and the walls.

When dinner finished, they strode onto the girl's dorm rooms. Eris and Lethe bade good-night to Boreas (although the latter was less enthusiastic) as he sauntered to the boy's dorms.

Muttering the password to the dorm, Lethe plummeted down to her bed right away, not minding other people's chatters. She dramatically covered herself with a blanket as she droned monotonously, "Ah, finally. Sleep. The time in whence I no longer have to interact with other beings."

She endlessly rolled around and then, somehow, just was fast asleep—snoring very loudly. Eris laid down against the soft futons, utterly flabbergasted and was once again questioning their choices of friends.

The light soon dimmed. Their ears picked up a ruffling on the side and a small "Eris?" that called them out—they turned around and as expected, saw Lethe's tanned face doused in darkness.

"Yeah?" Eris squinted their eyes, meeting Lethe's monolid ones. Even in the dim, her freckles could still be mapped out.

"Do you want to prank Bo—"

"No."

"You're no fun." Even though in the dark, Eris could see Lethe's lips turned into a pout. The brunette turned around and as fast as cheetahs on caffeine, she was cutting logs like earlier.

Eris fixed their pillow and curled on their own bed sheets, the touches of slumber now crept nearby. "Ah, wait..." They sluggishly sat up, remembering the healing glyphs still on their head.

Glyphs expire after a day. They peeled the paper off their arm and crumpled them into a ball, eyes lingering on the blue stains on their fingers. Eris stared at them. It was like those times one forgot a word you know. It was on the flicker of their tongue, yet, perhaps the memory got stuck in the depths of their throat on its way out. Sighing, they searched for a healing glyph on their head—the migraine had stopped—only to grasp on nothing but pimpled skin.

They fell to the tree headfirst. Yet, there's no bandage nor healing glyphs on it? Their hands searched through their whole head. There wasn't even a trace of an injury. A lie. They sat up straight, any trace of drowsiness now obliterated to nothingness.

Awake and alone, amid hearty snores, they could still somehow see the mark of the sun with an eye and a man of dread. His blue eyes filled with blaze and scorn as he writhed in agony. When Eris sucked in a breath and closed their eyes, there's another dream. It's small hands reaching the Walls, slowly eroding into nothing.

They did not sleep that night.

~°°~