The first thing she noticed was the silence.
Not the silence of sleep, but the silence of a world paused—where the wind holds its breath and the stars lean closer, watching.
Her eyelids fluttered open to dim golden light flickering against a rough-hewn ceiling. Wood creaked softly overhead, and the faint scent of lavender smoke clung to the air.
She blinked slowly, confused by the unfamiliar room, the weight of the blanket on her chest, the heaviness in her limbs. Everything felt distant, as if she were underwater.
Her fingers twitched.
They were smaller than they should be.
Paler.
And glowing.
She sat up with a gasp.
A mirror hung on the wall beside her—cracked, dull, but enough to reflect the impossible. Long strands of white hair, shimmering like moonlight, framed her face. Her skin gleamed faintly like polished marble. And her eyes—
She stumbled toward the mirror.
Violet.
Not just purple—but endless, like galaxies folded within irises. Swirls of stardust spun slowly behind her pupils.
She wasn't dreaming.
She wasn't human. Not anymore.
A memory—blurry and broken—flashed through her mind: standing on a train platform, then falling… not into tracks, but into stars. A voice had whispered in the dark:
"Drink from Lethe. Sleep. You shall rise again."
The door creaked open.
A tall woman with wind-tangled hair and thick leather boots entered, holding a bowl of broth.
"You're awake," she said, surprised. Her tone wasn't cold, just tired.
"Where… am I?"
"Kalpos. A village beneath the River Letheis. You were found by its banks, unconscious. Looked dead, almost glowing."
The woman squinted at her. "Still are."
The girl blinked. "Still… what?"
"Still glowing."
She looked down at her skin. Her arms shimmered faintly under the firelight.
The woman sighed and set down the bowl. "Eat, if you can. You've been out for four days. Feverish. Thought you were cursed."
"…I don't remember my name."
The woman arched a brow. "Most who drink from Letheis don't. Not fully."
That name again—Letheis. Her lips tingled when she said it in her head. Like it knew her.
"I'm Rena," the woman said. "You can stay, but Kalpos isn't a kind place for things it doesn't understand. Best you keep that hair under a scarf."
The girl glanced back at the mirror. That hair. That face.
"I don't think I belong here."
Rena gave a short laugh. "Then we've got something in common."