Sophie

Sophie had instantly regretted it the second she saw Keefe's eyes, already glossing over with tears. But it had been too late. Before she'd had the chance to open the door and apologize, the sound of stifled sobs could be heard, though silenced just as fast at the sound of the Ruewens' footsteps climbing the stairs to Sophie's room. 

And Sophie, hearing their footsteps and figuring Keefe must've already leaped away, scrambled into bed and prayed they wouldn't want to talk. She was so done with the day, and craved a night of dreamless silence. No drama, no worries, and no fights. Just. Silence. The thought floated around Sophie's mind, taunting her. But eventually, after hours, she found sleep. And while it was filled with bone-chilling nightmares of creepy figures in cloaks and white eyes that watched her every move, it was sleep nonetheless. And for that, Sophie was grateful. 

When she awoke the next morning, it was to the sound of birds chirping outside her window. Sophie extended her limbs in all directions, letting out an unnecessary yet somehow relieving groan as she stretched. Getting up, Sophie found her hair sitting atop her head like a bird's nest, tangled and knotted. Her eyes were shadowed and baggy, and she was paler than ever---that she remembered---but at least she was alive, not thanks to the monsters that had plagued her dreams. 

"Morning, kiddo." Grady beamed as Sophie made her way into the kitchen, not bothering to fix her appearance beforehand. Except for her bedhead, at least. That had to go. She hoped breakfast would give her the motivation to dress afterwards, but then again, when had she ever been so lucky? In the end, she'd probably have to force herself to do it, no matter how groggy she felt. 

"Good morning," Sophie mumbled, not sure how polite the Ruewens expected her to be. Though she was their daughter, she was still only adopted, and wondered if Old Sophie had been expected to be so polite. Considering her current personality, she figured Old Sophie must've obeyed every rule the Ruewens set, not wanting to upset them. So Sophie did the same. 

She sat down at the dining table and waited for both adoptive parents to seat themselves before she even moved to serve herself, which was in the most smallest of portions. She didn't ask for seconds, she didn't complain, and she ate everything off her plate---though the last part wasn't hard at all considering how delicious the meal was. Of course, she mentally slapped herself. Edaline and Grady already knew Sophie, so they knew her favorite foods. 

"Did you sleep well?" Edaline asked Sophie, her own eyes hinting at the late night both Ruewens must've had. Sophie swallowed her bite and shrugged. She was already dealing with enough drama; worrying the Ruewens would only add to everyone's stress.

"It took a while," she mumbled, only half telling the truth. "But I eventually fell asleep."

The couple shared a look, their expressions telling Sophie they were onto her. However, much to Sophie's appreciation, neither parent addressed that topic and finished their meal in silence. Sophie picked at her food, waiting until Grady had set aside his fork as to officially end the meal and dismiss everyone. 

"Why don't we all gather in the living room for a moment?" Edaline suggested. "I'm sure there's lots to catch up on---for all of us," she added, meaning the words for Sophie, who nodded. 

"The council has requested a meeting, and I don't know when I'll be back," Grady excused, taking everyone's dishes. "But you two can start without me, and I'll catch up later?" 

Edaline's hopeful smile fell, but she nodded. "Alright. Don't do anything too stupid without letting us know, okay?" 

Grady's smile went unreturned, and he laughed it off in an attempt to spare himself the awkwardness. It didn't work, and he disappeared into the light before anyone else could speak. The silence was killing her. Edaline lead them into the living room, where Sophie paused to gawk at the high ceiling with a glittering chandelier and pristine, soft-looking furniture. Edaline seemed to found her reaction amusing, seating herself in one of the armchairs. She nodded to another chair, and Sophie seated herself in an uncomfortable but formal-enough position. 

Her fingers rapped on her knees, doing anything she could to keep her hands away from her lashes. 

"Is there anything you remember?" Edaline finally asked, her eyes pleading and desperate. Guilt shot through Sophie's heart, though there was no reason. It wasn't her fault she had amnesia. Or was it? She forgot. 

Tap, tap, tap. Sophie's fingers tapped at her knees, faster, as she wondered whether Edaline deserved her trust or not. 

"Sophie," Edaline whispered, voice cracking, and Sophie knew she was holding back a storm of tears. "I'm happy. So, so happy."

They locked eyes, and Sophie's heart broke a little to see her mother, though the title still felt foreign, breaking down like that. For her. She wished to comfort her mother, but when she opened her mouth to speak, no words came. Edaline continued. 

"I know you don't remember, and I wish I could tell you more, but when you first disappeared, Grady and I didn't stop searching. You don't have to ask Mr. Forkle; he wouldn't know, but Grady and I searched every Forbidden City we knew of, and more. We searched for days, but eventually had to give up the searches because the council was getting suspicious. I don't know what you suffered through in that time, and I know you don't either, but I truly am sorry I wasn't the one to find you. I'm sorry we failed. I'm sorry our searches weren't enough." 

Sophie was shocked. And ashamed. This woman, Edaline, had piled on so much grief, sorrow, and guilt---all for some girl who couldn't even remember her. This woman, her mother, had suffered who knows how long for Sophie, meanwhile Sophie hadn't even been able to miss her back. It took minutes to finally find her voice.

"Your searches were enough," she promised. "I know I don't remember, but I know you helped bring me home one way or another. I can feel it. And you didn't fail; I'm here. It doesn't matter who found me, because you welcomed me back, so kindly when I probably don't even deserve it." 

Once she'd said the first sentence, the rest had spilled from her mouth like a broken dam, unleashing a tsunami of words and promises. And she'd been about to say more, when Edaline stopped her. 

"'Don't even deserve it'?" Edaline echoed with a confused expression crossing her face. Sophie shrugged, hanging her head. 

"I keep hearing something about the destruction in Atlantis," she mumbled, another pound of guilt weighing down her chest. "I haven't seen it, but it sounds serious. And the council says I was the cause." Her voice cracked on that last bit, her tears ready and waiting to spill over into an uncontrollable waterfall. 

"That was the Neverseen. I don't doubt your capabilities to do so, Sophie, but I highly doubt you alone could cause such damage that it takes what they estimate to be at least a year to repair." 

Shaking her head, Sophie choked out, "I don't think they got it wrong. He wouldn't say it, but I know Keefe thinks so, too. And Mr. Forkle. And that doctor-person. I know they think that. So how can all of them be wrong?" 

When Sophie looked up to meet Edaline's turquoise eyes, she saw pain. And cluelessness. Sophie's hands twitched, begging to be let free from their place in her lap. This time, she didn't resist. Seeing Sophie twist and tug at her lashes, Edaline moved before Sophie, pulling her into the tightest hug, squeezing Sophie so tight it would better be described as a choke hold. 

"I don't know," Edaline said, answering Sophie's question. She buried her face in the crooked of Sophie's neck, sobbing into her hair. "I don't know anything about Atlantis, or why they think you caused it. I don't know what the Neverseen did, or how you could be so powerful as to destroy an entire city. But I do know one thing." 

She squeezed Sophie a little tighter, any more and Sophie was sure she'd pop. "The Neverseen have hurt us before. They've taken friends and family from us. They've scarred us. They've scared us into hiding. And they've destroyed most of the Lost Cities, including the other territories. But they, Sophie, will never break us. They can try all they want, but they will fail. Because of you.

No matter what might've happened in Atlantis, I know you. I know you will never stop fighting to protect your friends, I know you will never give in to the Neverseen's tricks, I know you will do anything in your power to help this world, and I know you would do anything for your friends. Everyone knows this. It scares the Neverseen, because it also means the people of the Lost Cities will never give up. Knowing you won't back down, will do anything for our world, gives the people hope. And courage." 

Sophie bit back a sob. Edaline's words meant so much. Too much, because Sophie didn't deserve them. She wanted to argue, claim that she didn't even know if she were that Sophie anymore. She wanted to say that the Old Sophie may be gone, never to return. She wanted to say that no one would believe in her once the truth about Atlantis got out. But in that moment, Sophie stayed silent, clinging to her mother like she were the only thing in the world that mattered. And in that moment, she was. 

://

Once Sophie had wiped her tears, she'd thanked Edaline for her kind words of encouragement, and hurried back to her room to change. Apparently, both Ruewens had failed to mention during breakfast that Sophie would be meeting with the old man, Mr. Forkle, later that afternoon. And considering how long they'd spent in the living room, Sophie was sure that time was coming close. So, she threw together a quick outfit: a comfortable grey tunic with dark leggings and she stuck on a pair of combat boots rising just below the knee.

She didn't fuss too much with her looks, as, she was only meeting with some old man who seemed very creepily interested in her life. She raced back downstairs, ignoring the complaints of her spectral mirror, Vertina---whom Sophie later learned when she arrived downstairs, that it had once been Jolie's, Sophie's older step-sister. 

Mr. Forkle had supplied her with the information discreetly, as he'd already been waiting downstairs when she'd arrived. Grady was still out, and Edaline was busy speaking to someone over the imparter, the person on the other end sounding unsure and hesitant towards something. 

 "I'm assuming you understand why I'm here?" Mr. Forkle, though Sophie would've prefered "Creepy-Old-Dude", said. He smiled, though his eyes told Sophie he was tired. And on edge. She shook her head, trying to recall any memory of Edaline telling her so. She hadn't. Mr. Forkle sighed. 

"I suppose it wouldn't be right of me to have her explain things of no relation to her, especially not something this..." He seemed to want to say "difficult", but instead he told her, "complicated." 

Sophie waited for him to elaborate, but when he remained silent---seemingly lost in thought---Sophie was forced to verbally prompt him. "What does that mean?" 

His response was another sigh, followed by a reluctant explanation. "Miss Foster, due to certain complications---" Sophie didn't like that word, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, "---I assume you've noticed how few people you've come in contact with?"

"You, Livvy, Grady, Edaline, Keefe," she was glad to finally have his name, "and the councillors." She listed, counting off her fingers. 

"Have you ever wondered why there has been so little visitors? Despite your condition?"  

Sophie had wondered, but she'd just assumed it had to do with how fragile her mind was or something. Of course, things were never so simple, and Mr. Forkle's explanation was far more painful to hear. 

"Atlantis," he started, already giving Sophie a dreadful wave of worries as her imagination ran wild, imagining all sorts of chaos from ruined buildings to fires. Mr. Forkle didn't seem to notice the way she straightened her posture, or the way her breath caught as he continued, "is a painful memory of nightmares some of us shall never forget."

He shuddered, probably remembering some of his own experiences of the devastating event. "And some shall never forgive," he added, and Sophie allowed herself to tug her lashes free. "Hence the reason you've had so few visitors." 

"They're angry?" Sophie guessed, wincing. 

"Afraid," Mr. Forkle corrected, hesitating a moment before adding, "and rightfully so." 

"Can you please just tell me what I did. It's killing me." 

"It's killed many," Mr. Forkle agreed. And that's when Sophie came to notice Mr. Forkle's attire... an olive green. Sophie's world spun, the ground seeming to sway beneath her as realization settled in. A fuzzy, blurred image pulled to the front of her mind: wild brown hair and kind, gentle eyes. She wanted to curse as she realized it was only another half-memory. She assumed it was of the deceased that Mr. Forkle had meant, and Sophie spat out a naughty word as she wondered why her brain refused to cooperate. 

Mr. Forkle gave her a warning look for her language, but didn't address it, as, they both knew she had good reason. 

"I think I get it now," she barely managed to mumble, not wanting to say the words lest that make them true. But the past was past, and she couldn't hide from it forever---no matter how much she wished they could. "I hurt someone---killed someone, didn't I? That's why I haven't had visitors. That's why you're trying so hard to keep me from the truth. That's why Keefe says I hurt him." 

"What?" Mr. Forkle raised an eyebrow, and Sophie quickly explained he hadn't said that, but she had a gut feeling he wasn't denying it either. 

"I believe Mr. Sencen implies his pain as something other than physical, Miss Foster." Sophie slumped, knowing somewhat of what he meant, and fully in realization that she'd only hurt him more the previous night. Tears threatened, but she blinked them back.

"Yeah, I figured that out ten seconds ago when you told me I killed someone." 

"You kids, always twisting words into what you want to hea---"

Sophie couldn't help an eyeroll. "You think I wanted to hear that I murder---"

"Again, your hands are clean. Yes, there have been deaths. But none of them are on your hands, so be thankful for that, at least. Because I'm sure, if that were the case, I wouldn't be taking you to see your friends." 

Sophie froze. ".... What?" 

"Yes, Miss Foster. I've spoken with your friends, and their parents, too---as an extra precaution. And they've all decided to give it a try." 

"Give what a try?" 

"I've told them of your condition and asked that they keep as much of the past as possible, in the past. And in return, we'll try talking with them. You can apologize, and they'll consider your apology. And we'll see what happens from there." 

Sophie wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry, cheer, or vomit. The idea of meeting people who remembered you, when you have no idea who they are would feel... weird. She'd already met her adoptive parents, but... they were her parents; they weren't really allowed a choice whether to love her or not. Actually, they did, as, she was only adopted, after all. But friendships are different. They're much more fragile than family bonds. 

Still... they were willing. Someone had died because of Sophie and her friends were still willing to try and forgive her? She couldn't really refuse such a generous opportunity.

"So you want to take me to meet my friends, in hopes of befriending them again?" Sophie summed. Mr. Forkle gave a curt nod. 

"But before we leave, I'd like to do one thing. I said you should apologize, but where's the meaning in that if you don't even know what you're apologizing for?"

Sophie's heart swelled, though she compressed the feeling. If she was misreading things, she'd probably explode from sadness when she'd gotten her hopes up. Thankfully, Mr. Forkle confirmed her theory.

"Yes, Miss Foster. I'm going to send you the memory of Atlantis.

A/N- sorry I haven't updated in a while. School's been slow and my freetime's only turning thinner with time. I didn't do so much editing in this chapter so if you spot any typos, plot holes, or anything that you might think is a mistake, feel free to let me know and I'll try and fix it as soon as I can.

I'm also nearing the end of this story, I'd estimate seven to ten chapters left at most, and at least five---though that's not as likely. 

I'm thinking about writing a sequel. Should I? Would you guys read that?