#some sort of fun parallels with S'ria's own feelings about repressed memory

[snow-system-wol]

[lv 97/98 msq spoilers]

Thoughts about Time and Memories (~1k)

Ao3

S'ria didn't need to be a genius scholar to tell that something was deeply wrong. How fast did wood rot again? Decades? Centuries? The buildings at the train station should not have looked at they did, could not have possibly fallen into such disrepair since Erenville's last visit. And yet, there they were – buildings so riddled with structural decay that S'ria would not dare step inside of one.

S'ria glanced at Erenville, still and staring in quiet horror at his surroundings. S'ria's heart ached for him, really, but what was there to say? Especially when he himself had no reasonable words of comfort or clarification to give. He could only hope that they'd find something of reassurance to Erenville soon, with this abandoned station giving more questions than answers.

Comparing these to the wooden buildings in Shaaloani, there was no coherent explanation.

Except, clearly, that something was wrong with time itself.

 ----------

Upon Sphene’s impromptu introduction, there was one thing that grated at S'ria the most that he couldn't shake off. How had he not seen or sensed her before the moment that she made herself known to them? She was rather… well, bright, in a way that was glaringly easy to spot in the dark and drab environment. S'ria would have easily seen that, no matter how much she tried to keep out of sight. And there was no lingering dusting of aether the way S'ria noticed with G'raha's concealing spells, so how? It was as though she had simply not been here, and then suddenly was.

(He also had his own questions regarding – if she was trying to be subtle about her actions, why not make any attempt at disguise? But that was neither here nor there, really.)

The immediate matter was determining whether he trusted her to be telling the truth – so far, he had not caught the ring of potential falsehood, but that did not mean she was being fully open, either.

He worried for Erenville's sake too – this woman seemed to know his mother, but refused to explain further. It could well have been a lie entirely – one that could be used to manipulate Erenville in the right circumstances.

S'ria wondered if Sphene said “Lamaty'i” purely as an unknowing misstep, or if she understood the close intimacy of their group using that name and tested the waters regardless. In either case, if she tried for copying the “Ria�� that G'raha and Alisaie used, he was not going to accept that from her. That was reserved for a precious few.

 ----------

What an odd thought, that thirty years could've passed in a couple of days outside the dome. It scared S'ria to not know if time was stable, but it was better than for time to be flowing the other way around. For them to end up trapped here for months or years, only to find out hours had passed outside? To have lost so much time with others? It was not a pleasant thought. 

But the alternative? For them to spend a few days inside trying to fix things only to find out that the world has moved on for decades without them? 

It was frightening. 

But not as frightening as it could've been. At bare minimum, he and G'raha were together. To grow old together or step outside of time, in a bubble removed from their lives – well, it wasn't so scary if it was both of them.

The only thing that saddened him was that the twins were apart, should that awful scenario come to pass.

 ----------

Oh, S'ria had opinions about the use of souls in such a careless manner, it disgusted and scared him – but that wasn't what had him so immediately feeling sick with anger as he tried to process the logic. Memory.

He felt that he was in a very unique position to weigh in on this matter. To just take away the memories of the deceased as if that was a kindness, as if it was less painful... S'ria just couldn't accept that. The gaping abyss in his own memories, only half-patched in even now, did naught to lessen the sense of loss. It was worse, really – no matter how many memories were taken away, the obvious absence of a birth family in his life could not be forgotten. The only effect was a frustration at not being able to remember their faces, their personalities, their customs. Perhaps he'd feel more at peace if he knew those things. 

And S'ria could not help but resent the idea of memories being stolen for their own good. Surely if he was ready to remember, then he would. But even knowing that, he hated knowing that the others were carefully keeping secrets away from him that they feared may break him. 

They may very well be right. He just didn't like it. To know the sort of things that had happened but be unable to recall how bad it was simply gave his imagination too much room to run free. Some days he'd rather not know, but others he'd felt like begging for his memories back – despite the fact that he didn't believe that was something that could be voluntarily relinquished.

S'ria recognized that some of his bitter anger was misdirected. Even if he wanted to do the disservice of claiming it was brainwashing, the fact remained that people wore the regulators because they liked the ability to forget and quickly move on. No matter how much he projected his own feelings onto the topic, nobody here was being forced to forget. That bit he may just need to temporarily let go – for his own sanity.

The soul part, no, they could certainly go back to that bit though. S'ria, Alisaie, and G'raha all met eyes across the table with concerned expressions. Yes, that part needed to be discussed.