Right your Wrongs

~°°~

Sweat stuck on their skin like glue, bones aching. The sunken light from Tower warmed their skin, fingers clasping the wooden sword. They felt the bruises forming in their torso and beyond their closed eyelids, they imagined the dummies that had caused them, leering.

They were supposed to be sleeping, yes, and they were tired, and yes, this coping mechanism wasn't the healthiest, but maybe if they stayed up a bit more, their strained muscles would remember what they were supposed to do even without their eyesight. Their ribs would combust and ebb away the guilt, the ghost, the everything. They'd do better. Everything would be okay.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven," Eris murmured, fingers twitching.

Today wasn't great. (Well, excluding the part where they finally convinced the nurse to give them Thalamide and saw Professor Noirin running around, looking like a cracked open boiled egg. He had buzzed his hair completely, making students who had a crush on him wallow in misery.)

They failed at all the training and shot Rycella Gullerva with a bow, Lethe was still avoiding them,—and it was all Eris' fault, their brain supplied on so helpfully—not to mention, everything that happened.

The Professor who had convinced them to betray their best friend just called them up to tell that the deal was off because the Principal actually didn't know about it and he just lied so he could laze off. Unless they found a way to somehow make their Unstable Peculiar safe enough for them to use without the help of Thalamide, they were gonna be thrown off.

Procession of the Unpassed would happen three days after the Ownership Ceremony. They, now, had only a few hours left before dawn comes.

They tattled their best friend for nothing, Eris thought, tasting bitter gourd down their stomach. Eris slumped down and searched for their water bottle, their resolve slowly getting eaten away by tiredness.

It wasn't just guilt that was crippling them.

It's just.. Fifteen years. They spent fifteen years trying to be an Elderstire, to be some sort of hero that would end the darkness that imprisoned them. And then, it was all false and they were lost more than ever. It turned out demons were inside the Dome this whole time, peering at their every move, and now, they had dreams of a man with the mark of the sun screaming that it was their fault as he exploded.

What was the point? What must Eris Heindell do now?

Eris' lips let out a sigh as they stood up and gripped the handle of the sword tighter until their fingers ached. They signaled the training dummies on, once again. For now, these were the only things that were real.

~°°~

Eris watched horrified as the glyph Lethe slumped down against the spotless tiles, seemingly paralyzed. There was still a flame in her eyes, although almost akin to panic.

Professor Noirin stood up from his ratted chair, clicking his tongue as he patted out the small flame out of his wavy hair. His icy blue eyes were dim. "Damn, brat. I liked my haircut.."

He strode closer to where Lethe was, in an exhausted manner as if he had done this a thousand times, as if it's a sort of schedule and he was, quite frankly, done with it. His shoes stopped their crude clacking and he stooped down a knee, facing Lethe.

Lethe's eyes darted to him, glaring holes to his sharp face.

He sighed. "Look here, kiddo," he said in the same patronizing voice that he used on Eris. Eris wanted nothing less but to go into the fragmented memory and punch him squarely in the face. "Let's make this quick, yeah? What do you remember?"

"Your mom." Lethe gritted out, still staring directly into his eyes.

His jaw clenched. "What do you remember?"

"I didn't remember anything. I found it out by myself because I'm one smart, shitty fucker and you guys are careless idiots that beat up kids in your spare time to feel better about your stupid selves." She was cackling until it became a muted yelp of pain.

"I don't think she remembers. But as you wish," muttered the Professor as he rolled his eyes, seemingly talking to someone despite the sullen emptiness of the office.

The scream was shrill and piercing and Eris did not have the heart to look at the recording anymore.

~°°~

Their arms were heavy and prickling as they, finally, stopped an incoming slash to the side—the 'thwack' of wood against wood sounding ethereal to their ears. Another swipe from the right ended their quiet triumph—it was too fast—the strike stung, hitting their right in the hip and their sword flew out of their hand.

"There you are," said another voice from the doorway. Eris bristled. They'd recognize her voice even when half-sleep. "Good morning, Heindell."

Eris scowled, as they limped away, leg throbbing. "'Sup, Guava."

"It's Gullerva." She probably mirrored Eris' frown, maybe even crossed her arms by the tone of her voice. "Training rigorously without proper sleep nor food is dumb. Go back to the dorm."

Eris held back a snarl. One, two, three—"Why do you care? "

"I don't," Rycella said, impassively, probably rolling her shitty poop green eyes at the mere thought. "I am the president of the school student council. The Principal has given us a designated schedule for eating, sleeping and training for us to perform at our best. It is my job to have my fellow students follow the said schedule."

Usually, they'd challenged Rycella into some duel and lost or atleast, argued stubbornly with that wild fire in their eyes. "Just go away," they replied tiredly. "Just leave me alone."

"How are you?" Rycella asked instead. "Are you still feeling chest pains?"

"I—" Eris furrowed their eyebrows now suddenly just reminded of that issue. Well, the absence of it. Perhaps, their Peculiar bonded finally. "No actually. I told you I'm fine," they spat. "Leave me alone."

They needed this anyway. The dull ache oddly made them feel alive. In control. Maybe if the dummies struck their skin more, they could think.

Eris pushed down the incoming yawn back their throat, lightly caressing the forming bruise on their hips as they limped away, a throbbing on their lower spine. They hissed, joints cracking as they crouched to reach the fallen sword. Polished wood met the rough, swollen calluses on their hands and once again, they signaled the training room, "Activate dummy three and four."

"Stop," the redhead said, annoyed.

"No."

"You are really.." Rycella trailed, then sighed. "Heindell, you look like a mess. Go to the Healing Lodge."

~°°~

Lethe's shrill scream stopped. The brunette's eyes sunk close and she sagged against the floor lifelessly. Alone. Cold. And hurt. Eris could hear Boreas' fury from behind — and they could feel it seething on their stomach too, mixed with guilt and fear.

~°°~

Eris clenched their jaw. "No."

Rycella sighed again, now hinting exasperation. "Okay. Fine." Her voice had oddly softened as if she somehow understood why. "Let me heal you then."

The mere mention of Rycella's Peculiar pulled the trigger and lit the flare.

"Oh, wow," Eris sneered, voice dripped in sarcasm. "I'm so grateful, but I don't think this lowly creature should be graced by your super 'specialness'." They air-quoted.

"You cannot even try to be civil, can you?" the redhead snapped back. "I am trying to be nice—"

"You were totally being nice when you just avoided me like I'm sort of disgusting dirt in your shoe."

"You shot me in the head this morning—"

"Your Peculiar is super life fountain on crack. You heal faster than the speed of light. You're literally immortal."

~°°~

In a way, it still felt odd. Sure, they were told everything but seeing it, even though they knew that the Professors never cared —seeing the Professors hurt someone with such in an uncaring way—it's still... just something. Shivers crept up their spine and goosebumps were quietly drawn on their skin.

Professor Noirin stood up and wryly wiped the foggy glass of his squared spectacles as he spoke to the empty room. "I told you, her body couldn't handle it. She's a kid and what's more—what did you expect, idiot?"

He brought it back on the bridge of his nose, rolling his eyes. Suddenly, he froze like he was slapped. The professor frowned, his eyebrows forming a reluctant 'v'. "Are you an idiot? You are aware the resources are.." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "What happened?"

"Who is he speaking to?" questioned Boreas. Lethe shrugged, similar confusion drawn across her face that was somehow still so Lethe-like despite the whole 'blank face' thing.

A chuckle snapped Eris' focus back to the memory. The chuckle escalated into full-blown laughter. "I see. You scheming fuck," he cackled, throwing his head backwards. "So, that's why you needed me."

~°°~

"Yes." Rycella's breath hitched, her voice as cold as sleet. "I am."

"Why do you say it like that?"

"What?"

Eris' free hand curled into a fist. "Like your Peculiar is some sort of curse."

Their voice shook. Rycella Gullerva did not have a right to be.. that. If she thought being practically invincible was some bloody curse, what does she think of Eris' then? In this world, no one was born equal. Eris wondered about the unlucky girl who got a Permeation Peculiar. Eris wondered about their own disgusting act of desperation just to stay (only to learn that what they stayed for was lies). Eris wondered about many things—mainly, punching Professor Eugene Noirin and Rycella Gullerva in the gut.

Rycella didn't answer the question and simply averted her eyes. She does that when she was gonna spout a lie or do something to change the subject, Eris remembered bitterly.

"Those bruises look swollen. Let me heal them then, you can continue training however you wish."

~°°~

"I'll kill that fucking Professor," muttered Boreas darkly.

"Whoa, whoa," chuckled Lethe, voice tinged with shock at Boreas' uncharacteristic use of language. "It's my fault, anyway. I was careless and didn't cover up my tracks—"

"No," Eris interfered, eyes pinning the sole of their shoes. They swallowed the prickly thorns that were adhered to their throat. "It was me. I told him." They vomited out the words.

~°°~

"Okay," they grumbled under their breath. "Fine. Heal me and then leave me alone." Eris freed the wooden sword from their grip and reluctantly stretched their left hand forward. It hung in the air a second too long before slim hands awkwardly clasped it, cold and icy against her adrenaline-fueled blood.

"This will kind of hurt." Then, the hands burned.

Eris winced and accidentally pried their eyes wide open. Pale hands with smudged ink and bored doodles of flowers all over them were what she first sees. Her palms were glowing, warm green, just like the sleep-hazed eyes under the wiry, circled spectacles. It smelled like mint, like freshly uprooted grass.

"Sorry," muttered Rycella, shaking her bedridden hair off her face as her green eyes (which totally looked like vomit and totally didn't look nice) stared against Eris' black eyes. "It burns does it not?"

The soft light filtered between them and the burning green became comfortable. An invisible sort of bubble where everything was okay, and serenity and green were the only things that existed.

"It's fine, now I think." Eris felt their bruises heal—the crackling stabbing on shoulder joints halted—fractured ribs pieced themselves together. They were fully healed and—and this hand holding was kind of getting longer than necessary; oh my god, I smell like sweat, don't I? Eris cleared their throat as vines of odd, unbidden panic that they didn't understand, grew flowers on their mouth and glued them tongue-tied.

The same sort of panic flitted on Rycella's eyes and she let go, hand fidgeting and the bubble popped. "Sorry."

~°°~

"It's fine, Eris. It's just bruises." Lethe grinned and winked. "Atleast, you guys finally have a chance to ask someone out without my flawless face distracting them."

It was anything but. Lethe's smile was stilted and rather cold. Eris decided to just smile back. And when they noticed that Lethe had moved, flinching away from them as they clambered back to their dorms, they didn't say a word. They deserved that, their brain simpered.

~°°~

"It's fine. Thanks for, um, healing me." Eris wrung their hands against the sword's handle. The flowers were yet to decay, they still glued their tongue into a knot and dried their throat.

"Wait.." Eris blinked as an odd realization sunk in, their eyebrows knitting together. "How am I looking at you?" They asked in awe.

"I—?" Rycella's cheeks flushed, although it returned to normal as fast as it appeared. "Oh, you meant your Peculiar.." she said, flatly. "You have not read the Rules in your Peculiar?"

"Rules in my Peculiar?"

"It is on the first page of your Peculiar. They would tell you how your power works. It's a payment." Her eyes darkened and were seemingly more interested on the floor. "Well, usually it is." Shaking her head, Rycella cocked an eyebrow up and crossed her arms. "You did not read it, did you?"

"Well, I can't read it anyways. So far, you're the only one I can see without dying of suffocation."

"You dumbass." Rycella soundly facepalmed and massaged the sides of her forehead. "Your Peculiar will not work on the book. It is why it is advised to have it at all times. It helps you control it. Did you not read the—"

Eris held out their hand, focusing soul energy in their palm. "Right, right, Miss Perfect, I'm calling it and reading it.." The book zoomed from nowhere, crashing against the walls and dummies like a possessed ball and then, rocketed to their forehead. "Stupid books."

"You do know that they are a part of you and you can just put them inside of your body, no?"

"Fuck off," Eris said, snappishly.

Rycella snorted, looking at reddening spot in their forehead. "And I will not be healing that. That was funny."

"Yes. Very," Eris said, dryly as they rubbed the forming bruise. They sat down on the wooden floors, tentatively placing the book down and were careful not to look away. "It's done that every time. I think it hates me." They sullenly tried to open the pages, yelping as it tried to eat their fingers.

"Well," Rycella crouched down as well. "Peculiars are knotted with your soul. It is heavily rooted by your emotions and is affected with you psychologically—"

Eris snapped. "Can you speak, in like, normal terms so I could understand without scrolling through a dictionary?"

Rycella rolled her eyes, mockingly. "Right. Forgot that you do not have a brain. Basically, it acts like your subconsciousness."

"How the hell can you even control this thing then—Ow?!" It smacked Eris against their ribs.

"Easy," Rycella replied in a sing-song voice as if speaking to a child. She poked the writhing book on the floor. "Control your emotions."

Eris grunted and angrily flung the book to the redhead. The book fell against Rycella's shoulder then plummeted down with a thud.

"What the—?!"

The dark-haired one grinned triumphantly. "Still can control your emotions? It's all stupid, anyways." And a bunch of lies.

"So childish and uncouth," murmured the redhead under her breath as she stood up, a scowl written by irritation was carved on her face.

Eris mock-bowed their head slightly, sarcasm spilling like a river at every word. "Sorry for not being sweet enough for you, Your Highness."

"Don't." Rycella fluttered her eyes shut tightly, her lips pursed in a thin line. "Don't call me that."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't just abandon people out of nowhere like a damn coward."

"Ah," Rycella bitterly smiled through clenched teeth. "Back to this. Back to this. Apologies can never suffice to you—"

"Because your 'apologies'..."Eris air-quoted, nose flaring, "oozing of condescension and annoyance is truly sincere, Your Highness."

Rycella's green eyes flashed dangerously under the rising light of dawn. "Do not call me that." She glowered in a way that burned, not backing away from Eris' steeled glare. "Don't."

"You know, what?" Rycella stomped away, her polished boots loudly clacking against the floor. "I think I have overstayed my welcome. Have a nice day. Also, fuck you."

"It's just a bloody nickname." Eris rolled their eyes then focused them on the still writhing book. They gulped down the guilt and the half-memorized apology for shooting the redhead earlier, and just spat them to anger. "Fuck you too."

Barely, she discerned Illusion Glyphs plastered behind the ears of Rycella before the door was clamped shut and the redhead's footsteps echoed farther and farther away. She had that ever since they were kids. Eris never knew why.

Of course.

Rycella Gullerva has her own secrets and Eris has theirs. It's not like they're friends, anyways.

~°°~

"Lethe. I'm so sorry."

"Eris, you have said that for the ninth time. Shut up and sleep for fuck's sake," the brunette groggily replied and then sunk back to slumber.

Eris tightly held the nail necklace in their pockets.

The next day, Eris gave their share of pies to the brunette. When Lethe smiled and laughed, it sounded like forgiveness.

A forgiveness they didn't deserve.

~°°~

Ah.

What were they doing? Eris angrily wiped the tears away. Getting distracted again and again. Who cared about Rycella and teenage drama? Eris slapped themselves awake, letting their palms sting against their cheeks. They needed to be better and find a way to use their Peculiar. They needed to be better to no longer harm anyone anymore.

People's heads weren't supposed to explode. And there shouldn't be dead bodies under schools.

Escape this shitty fucking place. That's what they have to do. That's what they had to focus on. And the first thing they had to do? Control the fucking Peculiar.

Dark eyes roamed the crinkled page of the Peculiar, memorizing the rules of their Peculiar whilst thinking and thinking. It had two rules: a) things that have life were not transformable and b) they could only transform on things they had seen.

The rusty cogs on her mind were whirring now. Eris rapped their blue-tinted fingers against their lower lip, eyes furrowing. "Well, I can't just stare at random people. That's weird. And impossible," they groaned, shutting the book harshly. "This Peculiar is so stupid. Only things that are alive!"

Then, it hit them.

Things that have life. It didn't say people. Eris opened the book again, checking the rules again. Things that have life: cleanly it was written.

They lived in the Dome; a place where furniture had life. Maybe, that's the actual reason her Peculiar wouldn't work in the book. Eris stood up, a small grin curving their face. They needed to test this. But,—they carefully searched the training room through subtle looks from the corner of their eyes—what items here were alive?

Eris' eyes brightened. They reached for the chair, the chair that Professor Noirin had given to them when he blackmailed them. Technically, it's alive, right? It led them to classes. Eris exhaled.

Only one way to find out.

They tore their eyes away from the book and slowly looked at the chair. Their limbs curled backward, sight blackened, ache built on their back and fuck, it did not work. Eris immediately looked back to the book, disappointment sagging their shoulders.

Well, that failed—

Someone or something smacked the back of her head. It was one of the floating candles. Eris rolled their eyes as they rubbed the area that was hit, watching the candle saunter in the air. These candles couldn't forgive and forget, could they? One failed experiment (that perhaps melted a candle, burned the library and was the cause of the third-degree burns on Boreas' arse, but it's totally harmless, Eris swore) and they'd jus—

Wait.

The candles.

They could look at the candles without transforming.

The dim light from the Tower flickered through the windows. Dawn soon began as it has no choice but to.

~°°~