So Goodbye, Lethe Stranger

~°°~

It started when Eris said they wanted to be a bird—an owl, to be precise, simply because of how cool it looks and how free having wings seemed. They're beings born to be free, Eris said.

There's no such things as birds now. They have been extinct for centuries.

No.

It started far more earlier than that.

The first childhood memory Lethe remembered consisted of cold white tiles, dim light and bland walls. She was a kid—couldn't even remember where this place was or why she was here, but she always thought that place seemed lonely. Hands that reminded her of porcelain held her tightly as they brought her to blue hues and light. Through the portal. Then, she was here on the Dome of cobblestones.

She remembered vomiting, skipping all the classes. Not eating a bit nor sleeping at all on the first day. It was at night when she sneaked out of the room and ate a lot of leftover pies while crying. It continued on months. Like a piece of her was missing. She didn't even remember what she was crying about, to be honest.

She remembered a voice though. Not Boreas. Not Eris (they met when they both accidentally exploded something, shocking I know).

"'Sup there, loser." A girl sat down on the table. Wispy, blonde hair was neatly tied up. Bandages were wrapped almost all over her body. And her left arm. Missing.

"What happened to your arm?" Lethe wiped off the tears on her cheek, as she swallowed down the strawberry pie in a gulp.

"Wrestled a cabinet 'cause it ripped my favorite uniform," said the girl casually. "Gee, you don't hold back. Ever heard of being polite and saying a 'hi' back first?"

"Gee," Lethe mocked. "Ever heard of not giving a damn?" It was a pretty okay comeback. Really, it would have sounded okay if snots and tears weren't all over her face.

The blonde girl hummed approvingly, seemingly not insulted. "So, she speaks. Actually formed words without running and crying. Thought you were mute. Your pants are inside out, by the way."

Lethe bristled, didn't reply, simply continued eating and hoped the other girl would take the hint.

She didn't.

"You missed the Appraisal—y'know, the one where they assess your soul energy. And Officer Election. The one wh—"

"I know," said Lethe curtly. "I'm socially inept. Not dumb. I'll just take the Appraisal tomorrow. It's not that important, anyway."

"Hah." The girl laughed rather humourlessly. "In this place, that's what they all care about." There was a sort of bitterness to her words, touched with a sprinkle of longing.

Lethe looked from the strawberry pie in her hands to the girl. "You're not an officer, are you..?"

"Nope. My twin is, though." The girl shrugged. "Plus, even if I am one, I probably wouldn't report you. I'm a kind person, you see?" she said as she stepped on the table with her boots on, tarnishing the pretty carvings with dirt.

"Right," Lethe muttered, flatly. "Please kindly leave me alone, then."

The girl stopped, pouted as slurred light illuminated her freckled face. "So cold. You're breaking my heart." She clutched her chest dramatically. "Sucks to be you, 'cause I'm bored. Why do you like eating pies anyways? Especially those orange pies. It tastes like shit. Too sour. The cooks in here are terrible and—"

Lethe ignored the girl as she ranted endlessly and simply focused on eating the stolen pie in front of her.

"—and blue is overrated. You're not listening are you?"

"Nope. Your voice is annoying," blurted Lethe bluntly.

"..Can I have some pie, then?"

"No."

They didn't ask for names—Lethe barely saw her in her classes. There were a hundred students after all with different sectors and schedules. Somehow though, every time Lethe would steal pies, the blonde girl was always there—eyebags hanging heavy on her eyes as she rants about her sister, school, terrible pies and Algebra. Annoying.

Lethe never ranted. She never stayed. Sometimes she doubted that the blonde girl was real. She has the tendency to run off and disappear mid-rant. That and well, if memories could be erased then there's a possibility that it could also be twisted.

No. Not a possibility.

She knew it was true. This was something she hadn't told to Boreas. To anyone. Everyone is forgetting something important. She's forgetting something important.

She wanted to scream through her skin despite not knowing why. There was always the feeling that her body wasn't hers. Like her brain was just carved from the dust and shoved to some body, and it's stuck to watch through two small holes.

She wondered if there's anything real about her life, pondering really if there'd be a time where she felt alive—grounded, real and not floating aimlessly; forgetting, dreaming and remembering, stuck in a limbo.

The brunette sighed as her stomach grumbled. It's unhealthy, she's well aware. It always has been. The Dome demanded a perfect and pristine body.

The brunette slipped into the darkness and left Eris' snores behind. She ended up standing in the front of the kitchen door and saw sandy hair neatly tied into a bun. She swallowed in odd relief as she stepped forward. Talking to Boreas and Eris was becoming a chore these days. It's been harder to grin, to keep this facade of.. whatever she was supposed to be.

"'Sup. I thought you hated those pies."

The reply came as she expected. "Why are you always here, stranger?"

"Could ask the same to you. Do you just not sleep?" Lethe sat down next to her, grabbed a fork and tried to take a slice.

"I'm supposed to be bunking with my sister, Thalia. That Helen girl sleeps there though, instead." The girl slapped Lethe's hand and raised the pie away from her. "She doesn't even bother saying something, she probably just expects me to sleep somewhere else."

Lethe blinked, the pieces clicking together. "Thalia. Your sister is Thalia Kruger? You guys are nothing alike." The brunette tried to reach the pie. "Let me fucking eat."

"Duh. Of course, we aren't alike." The girl rolled her eyes. "She's an under-grown goblin. I'm a gorgeous bitch."

"I meant the personality. And the height. You guys have the exact same face. You're twins," Lethe pointed out, still unable to reach the plate. "Oi."

"Sucks that I'm taller, ain't it?" The girl waggled her eyebrows. "Say 'please.'"

Clenching her jaw, Lethe let out a forced, "Please."

The blonde let out a pleased grin and brought the plate down. "Gotta love using my advantages."

"You're, like, just two inches taller than me."

"Advantages suck, doesn't it? Makes you want to burn this place down." She said it all so casually and so out of place in the current subject, Lethe almost thought she was joking. Her eyes weren't. "It's just.. unfair."

"What's your Peculiar, anyways?" Sure, it couldn't hold a candle to a Special's Peculiar but it couldn't be that bad—

"I don't have any. I am Unpassed."

The slice of pie remained uneaten. The world stopped. Then continued. Because Lethe remembered, they were not friends. Lethe wasn't supposed to care.

"Oh."

"Oh." The girl repeated, amused. "I know, I know. Should have studied more. Should have tried more or whatever bullshit the professors spouts to failing students." Her laugh was less humorous now—forced and sharp. "But, the thing is I tried. I really, really tried." Her grip on her fork tightened.

"They don't actually care, do they? The professors. They just want us to be a perfect soldier or some shit." She sighed. "And maybe, they have the right to do that considering our situation with the darkness outside or something—"

No. They're not. Lethe wanted to say but couldn't.

"But I just couldn't for some reason. Couldn't focus, couldn't do normal shit and it's so annoying because I tried. I tried, stranger and maybe, Thalia is right and I'm mentally dumb. You know, she even told me that I'm not her sister too." The girl blinked gloomily, chest heaving, suddenly looking exhausted. Her hands looked like they were shaking. "And.. I'm sorry. That was—"

Lethe interjected. "No. It's fine—"

"I don't even know your name. You didn't have to listen to that. We're not even friends."

"Well," the brunette argued. "It's not like we're strangers, either. And, I listen. Reluctantly, because I still think your voice is annoying."

The girl chuckled and ate the remaining of her pie. "Do you?"

"Yeah." Lethe racked her brain. "I know you think blue is overrated. You hate the cooks here. You wrestled a cabinet and lost an arm because it ripped off your 'favorite' uniform. Which was fucking stupid, by the way, because all the uniforms fucking look the same—"

"No, they're not!" cried out the girl. "The different experiences—loser stranger, you just don't understand."

Lethe rolled her eyes. Felt a slight migraine creeping up. And here she thought, Eris was dumb. Atleast, they weren't deluded. Probably.

"I'm done, loser stranger. I hate you now."

Lethe sighed.

The girl burped. She wrinkled her forehead. "Ew. I'll probably puke this all up tomorrow morning." She did a dramatic wave and bow. "Finally kindly leaving you and your orange pies, you see? I'm a gal of my word." the girl said with a teasing smile. "Still think I'm not a kind person?"

"I won't agree unless you tell me your name." Lethe's throat was suddenly dry, as she stood up as well. Tomorrow, this person will go through the portal. "What's your name? I'm Lethe Walth."

"Now, you wanna know, huh?"

"Wait." Lethe grabbed her by the arm. She stopped. "What's the very first thing you remember before coming here?"

The girl cocked her head in mild, amused confusion. "Why? I've been here for ages. It always felt like I've been strapped here the moment I was born."

Lethe licked her lips. "You really won't tell me your name?"

She laughed, walking away. "Find it out yourself. Bye, Lena stranger."

~°°~

One day, her thigh burned in pain. When she raised up her shirt, she sees an odd stark paleness against her skin.

~°°~

"Have either of you ever gotten scared of it?" Boreas once asked. His eyes were rather red. If she remembered accurately, he cried because he thought he saw a flash of gray in his head.

Why was she reminiscing about these old memories?

They were lounging near the Healing Lodge, resting in their free time and consoling the blue-eyed crybaby. They weren't injured at all, from what Lethe remembered, it was just that the Healing Lodge had many flowers. They smelled nice and were far away from the eerie statues in the streets.

"Scared of what?"

His blue eyes twinkled. "Of getting older."

"Not exactly," was her response, backed by Eris' much more confident "No."

"So, I take it that you guys want to be decrepit grandparents?" he asked mockingly, twiddling a flower under his thumbs.

"Boreas," said Lethe, exasperated. "We're fucking seven."

"Don't curse, there's a Professor—"

"The Professors don't care." Eris rolled their eyes.

Lethe—such a rare occurrence—agreed. The professors truly didn't care, at the slightest. Curse, wherever, fighting in the halls; they let it be. So maybe, she burned the library, made dangerous potions, mayhaps poisoned someone (usually with an E or B on their names), and made a mess out of her uniform for attention.

Was there something wrong in wanting attention in a world that didn't give a damn? Perhaps. But, since when did Lethe Walth give a fuck about right and wrong?

"It's just.." Boreas sighed loudly. "Are you guys not scared at all? Fighting demons, graduating and.." His fingers fidgeted on the hems of his tunic. "And the fact that we might meet our actual parents while fighting? Or turns out they are dead and you haven't even gotten the chance to meet them—worse, just learn that they are non-existent and we are actually aliens with no parents and are totally alone in the world and are cursed forever to be alone—"

"....What the actual fuck? I just gave you a pinch of the potion in your coffee, I didn't expect an overblown conspiracy theory." Lethe said.

Boreas shook his head. "Okay, I might have gotten overboard in the overthinking area. Forget the last part." The boy then blinked, Lethe's words finally registering. "Wait, what the fudge did you put in my coffee?"

Eris prepped her head up, tilting it quizzically. "Why would you be afraid? They are your parents." Her dark eyebrows furrowed into a 'v'. "Well, to be fair, if I learned my child is drinking pure black coffee at the age of seven, I would be sincerely disappointed."

"What's wrong in drinking black coffee?" Boreas hollered, crushing the flower in his hands. "Ugh, y'know what—this is dumb."

Usually, the brunette had a witty quip or would insult either Boreas or Eris. B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶s̶h̶e̶ ̶k̶n̶e̶w̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶f̶i̶g̶h̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶t̶a̶u̶g̶h̶t̶.̶ ̶B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶e̶a̶s̶i̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶n̶ ̶a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶f̶a̶c̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶f̶e̶a̶r̶s̶.̶ B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ s̶h̶e̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'t̶ f̶a̶c̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ r̶e̶a̶l̶i̶t̶y̶ o̶f̶ i̶t̶.̶B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶c̶a̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶p̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶—̶c̶a̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶i̶r̶a̶c̶u̶l̶o̶u̶s̶l̶y̶ ̶s̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶n̶o̶w̶.̶ I̶t̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'t̶ s̶a̶v̶e̶ h̶e̶r̶. ̶ E̶s̶p̶e̶c̶i̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶n̶o̶w̶.

But. Well...

Parents, huh? She didn't miss hers; it was impossible to miss something that wasn't given to you in the first place.

In an odd, twisted way, there was a sense of relief. The professors always had a cold glint in their eyes. As if they hated every second of it here—as if they hated every child in here. The sneer and command as if they're something to control and also ignore. A̶n̶d̶ m̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶'s̶ w̶h̶y̶ s̶h̶e̶ t̶r̶i̶e̶d̶ s̶o̶ h̶a̶r̶d̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶ 'd̶i̶f̶f̶e̶r̶e̶n̶t̶'. J̶u̶s̶t̶ f̶o̶r̶ a̶n̶ o̶u̶n̶c̶e̶ o̶f̶ a̶ g̶l̶a̶n̶c̶e̶ b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶'s̶ t̶h̶e̶ o̶n̶l̶y̶ k̶i̶n̶d̶ o̶f̶ l̶o̶v̶e̶ s̶h̶e̶'d̶ g̶e̶t̶ h̶e̶r̶e̶.

What if her parents had the same glint in their eyes? Lethe couldn't bear that thought.

Boreas wasn't the only one who overthinks.

The books said pregnancy was painful. Did they despise her at birth? Were they thankful?

If there were gods, would they look at them with the glint too? Maybe, the gods just farted and accidentally made a world. Maybe that was why they were so alone. Barely, she heard Eris' laughter. She remembered laughing too. It was easier than disentangling that odd lodge on her throat. And, here she was now, musing on escape plans and old memories amid breakfast. Older than she was before yet still as young.

Not decrepit grandparents, not scrappy seven-year-olds nor something in between. They were just whatever they were supposed to be—a confusing mess, left alone to figure itself out. Fatherless, motherless, practically had nothing. Just names. Eris, Boreas and Lethe.

T̶h̶e̶r̶e̶'s̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶o̶n̶e̶ m̶i̶s̶s̶i̶n̶g̶, i̶s̶n̶'t̶ i̶t̶? O̶p̶e̶n̶ y̶o̶u̶r̶ e̶y̶e̶s̶, W̶a̶l̶t̶h̶. Go back to the tree.

If it were Boreas or Eris who'd be a part of the Unpassed, what would happen?

The clatters of spoons tattled against Lethe's ears. The chandeliers clamored, loud and irritating—everything was lively like always except it's not, like an awkward laughter before an icy silence. And it was not just because Lethe had just found out that the world she lived in was possibly some sort of experiment lab that also brainwashed them, and that there was atleast one confirmed body count—it was also because today wasn't like any other.

Today was the Procession of the Unpassed. Today was the last day the students would dine and sit complete. The usual white uniforms looked fewer—lone stars amid the black tuxedos and the red tie worn by the Unpassed.

Lethe cracked her share of quail eggs open, ignoring the Head Professor's prayer to the Goddess Yves. A swift kick was directed on her leg. The pale boy with symmetrical moles glared before shutting his eyes once again. Lethe kicked back, albeit quaintly grinning. Only Boreas really, she thought oddly fond, would still give a damn about manners after all that crap.

Then, Boreas' blue eyes fell to the seat next to him. Arguing was normal. Laughing was normal. Eris' empty seat wasn't.

"Hey." Lethe nudged the sole of his shoe with a light kick. "Eat up. The prayer was finished."

Boreas eyed the Professors dining in front. "Okay. Let's eat."

~°°~

Y̶o̶u̶ h̶a̶d̶ t̶h̶o̶s̶e̶ d̶r̶e̶a̶m̶s̶ t̶o̶o̶, d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ y̶o̶u̶ W̶a̶l̶t̶h̶? I̶t̶'s̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ p̶i̶e̶c̶e̶s̶ o̶f̶ a̶ b̶o̶d̶y̶ s̶h̶o̶v̶e̶l̶l̶e̶d̶ c̶l̶u̶m̶s̶i̶l̶y̶ i̶n̶ t̶h̶e̶ d̶i̶r̶t̶, w̶a̶i̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶ u̶n̶e̶a̶r̶t̶h̶e̶d̶.

~°°~

She heard it it—the way the Portal opened and painted her skin in light blues and hues. The sullen footsteps of the Unpasseds pattered against the ivory streets.

There were no hollering trumpets nor confetti. Heads were slunk low faced by the impassive expressions of the statues—leering quietly, it seemed. The Unpasseds marched on, their dull procession almost a funeral, clad on dim black tuxedos. Red neckties were coiled around their necks; they, Lethe thought, could easily be just the discarded strings cut by the Fates. Boreas had said that they might be experiments. Lethe thought otherwise. Lethe thought worse. Probably because she had seen the demons crawling on the walls and one of them personally chased the shit out of her.

There were demons in here. Demons ate blood. It was just an assumption, however, but imprisoned orphaned children did seem like a steady source of blood. But, Lethe furrowed her eyebrows, if this place was really a farm for demons, why were they teaching them to fight? That sounded counterproductive. Either way, it didn't make sense. But to be fair, exploding heads, shitty visions, disappearing ghost boys, fucked up memories and prison cells (along with a skeleton too. The whole package, really.) under schools didn't either.

A shriek interrupted her thoughts. Hurried, familiar footsteps pounded the ground. Eris. Lethe's jaw clenched, oddly afraid to look at them. Black or white? As they didn't know anything about... well, everything, it was safer for the three of them to stick together. Eris must stay. Eris' footsteps came close and so did the bloody screaming. It was harder to think.

Irritated, Lethe swerved around. "Can the screaming fucking stop?"

White. Eris wore white, the usual uniform. Not the black tuxedo. Not the red tie. Rounded glasses sat atop their crooked nose. The screaming came from it, Lethe amusedly and confusedly realized.

"Right, sorry," said Eris, scratching their chin. "It's something that nullifies my Peculiar. It, um, screams." They repositioned their glasses sheepishly. "You know what—never mind—I'll explain later."

And then, they bolted to the sulking parade of the Unpassed.

What the fuck happened to the "Let's lay low." part? Lethe's eyes bulged. The professors caught on but Eris was ready now and bulldozed past them... and then, hugged a random freckled girl with a lone arm in the crowd. Lethe recognized her immediately.

"Abi! I'll miss you!" Eris cried out, hugging the girl tightly.

Eris Heindell, what the fuck are you doing? Abi? The girl squinted, brown eyes furrowing. "My name is Tatiana. Do I know you?" She scratched the small scar under her neck nervously. "And, why are your glasses screaming..?"

"ID 13.190. What are you doing?" called out one of the professors,—Professor Jhlor—a hand gripped tightly on Eris' shoulders. Their jaw clenched. Tension on shoulders. Of course, they would be, considering what happened last time they let the Heindell be. Even in such an 'Eris what the fuck?' situation, Lethe could barely contain her smug smirk. There was a small sense of pride for Eris wormed a way to her chest. She would high-five them. Then, slap them with the same hand, of course.

"Just saying goodbye to Abi," hiccuped Eris. "Can I not do that now?" Their face remained impassive, subtly slipping something on the girl's pant pocket. "But she's my friend. Is there something wrong in saying goodbye to her?"

"My name is Tatiana.." mumbled the girl, fidgeting the ends of her necktie.

The Professor cleared their throat, hearing a few murmurs from the watching students. "Well, of course, you can. Just please do so in a mannerly way." Their clasp on her shoulder tightened. "Not to mention, you had time to do so earlier. Please go back to the Passed's area. You are ruining a sacred tradition."

Eris didn't flinch away from their stare. Then, they sighed and sobbed, rather convincingly, as they finally let Tatiana go.

"I'll miss you, Abi."

"My name is Tatiana. Am I really that forgettab—" The freckled girl stopped knitted her eyes shot, practically hissing. "I fucking hate this place. I'll miss beating the shit out of you all." Tatiana sprinted off with the others to the portal, venom on her hazel eyes. Barely, Lethe heard Boreas frantically fidget beside her probably fighting the urge to slap Eris into oblivion, scream, and ask what they were thinking and doing—eyes still glued at the ranting blonde.

She didn't remember Kai anymore. Not his face, not his voice, nothing in her memories. The others didn't either. She knew by the vague way they spoke and the way all of them couldn't seem to grieve. There's only that dream. It terrified her—the way she was more scared of ending up like Kai than the genuine grief she felt at the thought of his unmoving body.

Everything and everyone's food and potions were laced after all. They couldn't puke it all out. They were bound to forget, sooner or later. And it's not like she knew Tatiana anyways. They barely see each other, and if they do it's just mostly eating. Nonetheless, it kills her. That it wouldn't take long to forget her.

Maybe, it's her eyes. They lit up when she smiles genuinely. Maybe it's the unwarranted hate for blue; what an odd thing to hate on. Lethe thought of what could be if they were born on a kinder world where Tatiana didn't run and Lethe's walls were low enough to stay. Just very briefly though. After all, they're strangers still.

Brown eyes, gold hair, black tuxedo and red necktie were whisked away by the blue light. They were gone with a blink of an eye. Lethe never saw Tatiana again.

The next day, she ate illicit pies alone with no interference.

~°°~