Lethe

The souls that throng the flood
Are those to whom, by Fate, are other bodies owed,
In Lethe’s lake they long oblivion taste,
Of future life secure, forgetful of the past.

Virgil

Mythology

Lethe is one of the five rivers of the Greek underworld, and the personification of forgetfulness. When spirits are ready to be reborn, they must drink from the waters of Lethe in order to forget their previous lives. She may also be invoked to forget that which is too painful to bear, and has the power to sever bonds lingering from past lives. She is said to mark the border between the Underworld and the Fields of Elysium, ensuring no unworthy souls may wander into a more comfortable existence. Her source bubbles from the cave of Hypnos.

Only the lazy stream of Lethe ‘neath the rock with whisper low o’er pebbly shallows trickling lulls to sleep. Before the cavern’s mouth lush poppies grow and countless herbs, from whose bland essences a drowsy infusion dewy Nyx distils and sprinkles sleep across the darkening world.

Ovid

According to one myth, Medea used Lethe riverwater to sedate the dragon that guarded the Golden Fleece, thus enabling Jason to steal it.

Some myths say that the river Lethe runs parallel to the river Mnemosyne, the river of memory, and the dead may choose to forget their lives by drinking from Lethe, or end future reincarnations of their soul by drinking from Mnemosyne. However Mnemosyne herself was a titan goddess and mother to the nine muses, so it is likely these myths have been conflated. Spirits usually have control over the antidotes to their domain, thus Lethe may have been able to reawaken memories or reverse loss of memory.

Drinking from both rivers is believed to confer prophetic visions. In Classical Greek, the word lethe (λήθη) literally means “oblivion”, “forgetfulness”, or “concealment”. It is related to the Greek word for “truth”, aletheia

Now did Aeneas descry deep in a valley retiring, a wood, a secluded copse whose branches soughed in the wind, and the Lethe River drifting past the tranquil places.

Virgil

Lethe, in the 6th Age

Lethe was one of many children abandoned by Eris. She was raised instead by her grandmother, Nyx, and grew up loyal to Hades. Much of her work did not last transcription into myth, or was purposefully concealed, and some was even attributed to other gods. Her talents lay in dreamwalking and the manipulation of dreams, particularly the subtleties of memory. She was later revealed to be one of the Age’s rare dreamweavers. Given these talents she worked within the court of the Oneiroi, which was governed by Morpheus.

No real attachments mark her known history, and she has no recorded spouse or children. Given the otherworldly nature of her waking innocence it was difficult to contemplate her with such relationships.

Awake

“It was easy to leave you.”

Eris

Lethe’s childhood was spent at the heels of Nyx, beneath the realm of Hades in the formidable prison of Tartarus. She grew up around the monsters her grandmother commanded, and never saw them as such. She was a strange child, insatiably curious, and always drawing. When Nyx realised there was more to her scribblings than met the eye, she began to take Lethe into the pocket dimensions she used for her research.

Sit still now, child. This will only sting a moment, I promise

Nyx

Time ran differently in the vacuoles. Though Lethe always considered it a sanctuary, Nyx also experimented on her in there, discovering the glyph which binds Lethe’s soul to the Wheel. Because of the location’s proximity to the edge of the Pattern, it’s one of the only places the symbol is visible on the skin.

Lethe spent a great deal of time here throughout her life, so much so that Nyx created rooms for her attached to the Nexus. Lethe’s door was marked with the brightest star in the sky: Sirius. Much like Nyx’s own quarters and her secret entrance to Tartarus, this room could be accessed from any of the stations hidden all over the world.

The brightest star, my love. For when you are lost.

Nyx

To stave off loneliness, and help keep Lethe from mischief while she was busy, Nyx created her a companion, which was also tasked to guide Lethe through the complex and shifting maze of rooms.

Prophecy

Lethe was particularly touched with the gift, or curse, of prophecy.

Notably, she also drew visions of her own life Ages into the future. Perhaps it was the time she spent in Nyx’s vacuoles that loosened the bindings enough for such horrific visions — for Lethe did find it nightmarish. She drew, over and over, an image of a person coming apart. Unravelling, or smashing to pieces, or slowly leaking apart to nothing; the method did not matter, just the inexorable tide towards unbeing,

As a child it terrified her.

Nyx always soothed her during the worst of her shakes, and Lethe never noticed that while she spoke promises and smoothed her hair, they were that Lethe would always be safe. Not whole.

Among her prophetic drawings were hints of a world-ending cataclysm at the end of the Age. But many drawings were less obvious in meaning, at least at the time: a descending stair, a cobolt blue feather wrapped by a snake, a wolf in chains, an empty forge.

The Royal Court

Within the abyss, Lethe, measureless in sweep, glides smoothly on with placid stream, and takes away our cares.

Seneca

Lethe spent the best part of a century in Nyx’s shadow. When her grandmother went abroad, as she still sometimes did in those days, Lethe would always remain behind, often residing in the palace with Erebos and the ghostly attendants Nyx favoured over mortal servants. The two gods had been devoted to one another for centuries, and their family was unusually large, so their palatial home was never fully bereft of bustle and visitors. They said even Zeus feared Nyx, and while Lethe did not know if that was actually true, she did often hear it said that the palace was the safest place in the world.

Nyx was fiercely loyal to her brood, and it wasn’t unusual for her to find suitable placements for her children and grandchildren or other descendants. In fact she took a great deal of interest in her children’s lives and their happiness, whatever form it took. Yet Lethe remained solely at her side for longer than any other. Whether it was her odd upbringing or something more innate, she retained an otherworldly innocence despite her years; she was sweet, friendly, and sometimes mischievous, but she was also skilled with the workings of memory even then. When Erebos brought it up, he mysteriously forgot to pursue the conversation. Lethe herself was often at the feasts and family gatherings, for she was social and curious and always in the thick of it, yet sometimes the memory of her faded by the time someone stepped out over the threshold.

Nyx was not ignorant, but neither did she interfere, because Lethe was happy.

But one night she did take Lethe to the river bordering the new settlement of Elysium. It was the first time Lethe had ever set foot outside of Nyx’s palace. Back then, Elysium itself was little more than unshaped rock and the dreams of the young queen who Hades had recently brought down from Olympus. Nyx wanted to test the extent of Lethe’s affinity, and with careful direction had Lethe work mageia into the water. It was an old thing, more common in the time of the Titans, and far less remembered now. By the time they were done the working held firm; those who trespassed across the water without permission would quickly find themselves forgetting where they were going and why. The experiment contented Nyx, who tucked the knowledge away for future use. And Lethe was pleased because Nyx said it would be their wedding gift to the new queen.

It was only after Hades’ daughter Melinoë came of age many years later that Nyx finally made a decision, and arranged for Lethe to become her companion. Lethe’s earnestness and youthful face made it impossible to put an age to her, and Melinoë was a disconcerting young woman who was a frustrating mystery to her mother, and largely friendless at court. Her peers had simply learned to avoid her. Meanwhile, Lethe never even blinked when one of the Keres floated ominously in the corner of a room, and would chatter quite amenably to them even though they never answered her.

As it turned out, when the prospect was actually put to her, Lethe was happy for the task. They were soon introduced, and Lethe found the morbid flavours of Melinoë’s personality a delight; in fact, Lethe adored her immediately, and they became like sisters.

She found the rest of the Royal Court utterly fascinating; far more than Melinoë ever did. As a person, Lethe was inherently trusting and easily influenced, which sometimes got her (and Melinoë) in trouble. Politics were beyond her. Her nature was naturally placid and conciliatory, and she found it easy to calm people down, often leaving others feeling lighter after interactions with her. It made her difficult to dislike. There were few people in the palace with whom she did not have contact, whatever their station, for if she was sweetly-natured, she was also inclined to curious mischief. She wanted to know everyone.

As Lethe’s duties increased it was often Lakhesis who oversaw and assigned her tasks, among them maintaining the workings of Elysium’s river boundary, which bore Lethe’s name. Later, she displayed an aptitude for the Chair of Forgetfulness, and eventually became its sole practitioner.

Court of the Oneiroi

For many years Lethe remained ignorant entirely of her dreaming life, which she did not remember upon waking. She never considered how the things she knew and drew about others was considered strange, and for a long time Nyx had simply considered this a gift of prophecy, which even in those days took many different forms. It was not until Nyx discovered a dream-cult Lethe had accidentally raised all the way in Gaul that she began to suspect her granddaughter was not only a dreamer, but a strangely potent one. Unbeknownst to Lethe at the time, Nyx quietly arranged for her son, the gentle Hypnos, to begin instructing the Lethe who resided in the dream. He was a kind and pleasant teacher, however he quickly discovered the work to be unnecessary. Lonely in the dream, Lethe welcomed both the attention and the company, but did not seem to learn; it appeared almost as if she simply remembered.

But most strangely of all was that when Lethe woke, she had no recollection of any of it.

Soon after, she was first inducted into the Court of the Oneiroi. It’s unclear if Nyx orchestrated this too, or if by now Lethe and her unusual nature had simply come to Morpheus’s attention.

In such a way Lethe’s duality was managed, nurtured, and used.

She was finally introduced to her uncle Hypnos properly and in person (though of course she’d already seen his face in her sketches). Visits to his cavern became a regular part of Lethe’s routines, as was true of every skilled dreamwalker in the underworld then, yet for Lethe she found family as well as instruction. She brought levity to often serious work. Hypnos taught her to enter a state which allowed her to slip into the dream at will, without first waiting to fall asleep. He could not discover a way to stop her drawing everything she’d seen when she came to, or any solution to her absent memories, but with exploration and patience he did begin working on routines and workarounds to improve the cohesion between her two halves.

She adored her uncle and his sweet wife Pasithea, who often reminded her of such things as meal times, but it was her cousin Morpheus — the leader of the Oneiroi — with whom she became deeply fascinated. It was ususally Phobetor or Phantasos who sat with her when she woke, and helped bridge the resultant drawings with explanation and instruction, but it was always Morpheus’s attention she craved most.

In the dream only Morpheus himself ever proved a match for her naturalborn talents, yet she was seldom left unattended there. Keeping a watchful eye on Lethe became one of the Oneiroi’s duties, in part because she was apt to wander, but increasingly because her value to Morpheus and his work became undeniable. With two loyal dreamweavers, the Greek Underworld had an unmatched advantage in the dreamworld, and Morpheus protected it seriously.

Lethe tolerated minders because they were company, but it never seemed to prevent her slipping away when she willed it.

Asleep

Over the years Lethe’s dream-self became a potent weapon, and she trusted the direction of those to whom she was loyal. In the Dreamworld, Lethe was far less of an innocent than her waking counterpart: she infiltrated the dreams of those she was instructed to, and acted as both silent spy and exacter of revenge. She could ease consciences, remove entire memories — and for those poor souls Hades’ deemed it necessary, she could wipe the mind clean. If they woke from their dream at all, it was to life in a vegetative state.

In the dream Lethe’s sweetness was underpinned by something ancient and immoral; she was not needlessly cruel, but neither did she concern herself with the consequences of her actions. Like a good and trusting daughter, she simply obeyed the direction of the one she considered a father figure.

When she was not acting under order, she was a curious and social creature, apt to linger inquisitively over the dreams of others or associate with those who were able to walk the Dreamworld at the time, even those who burdened themselves with the title of enemy. Lethe herself made no such distinction, probably because she had no purchase on the real world, and therefore little understanding or investment in it. Among the most complex of these relationships was with Coyote, whose interference into the lives of men often put him in her path. When Nyx discovered the association, she put an end to it.

In her youth, after discovering the Gap and its stars, Lethe accidentally started a cult in Gaul. It was this incident which first drew Nyx’s attention to Lethe’s unusual gift in the dream.

Given her wide reach, Lethe was also known by other names, depending on where she wandered; among them Niorun, Gendenwitha, and Sirona. Likely there were more.

Other Names in the Dream

Abilities

Due to her longevity in the Dream between Ages, Lethe was a master of Tel’aran’rhiod. In particular she had an uncanny ability to find others in the dream, and responded inherently to Need. Though she was known for her ability to strip memory, it was likely she was also able to invoke it. Her preference was not to alter dreams themselves, but to pull souls into the dreamworld for her work, sometimes using ephemeral pockets. But often she supported Morpheus directly: when they entered another’s dream, he kept the dream steady and seamless, and she extracted the information they needed.

Of the Oneiroi only Morpheus was truly aware of the extent of Lethe’s potential power, for like him she was a dreamweaver, one of only four souls who might be born into the Pattern at any one time. The Norse gods, considered infant heathens by the Greeks, also had a dreamweaver among them: Heimdallr, the guardian of the bifrost. Since a dreamweaver’s power is most powerful when worked in tandem with another, Odin spent many years trying to win Lethe to his side. She was always happy to entertain his company in secret, for he was quite a wonderfully interesting character, but shenever considered leaving or betraying her family.

Nonetheless, Lethe was kept from forming attachments outside the court. It was an arrangement she was mostly content with, though it never stopped her straying. Her loyalty was firm and she never considered betrayal, though eventually it led to a seed of resentment. She began to realise that as much as she loved and idolised Morpheus, the balance of power had never been equal between them.

“Open those enormous jaws
And let me glide
Glide down your throat.”

Downfall

It was chance and curiosity that first led her to encounter the young wolfkin Fenrir. Lethe was enamoured of how perplexingly strange he was from the start, particularly when it seemed clear that he did not adhere to the rules of what should have been possible for his own kind. Generally Lethe gave the wolves a respectful berth; they were old and intrinsic to this place in a different way to she, and she rarely chose to interfere in their sphere. Mostly because they did not let her, and she disliked the sense of being unwelcome. Fenrir was one of them and not, a being caught not just between two worlds but two opposing worlds. Perhaps it was that which conferred upon him unsusal talents.

Like Lethe, he was watched closely for the crime of his differences. Unlike Lethe, he was obedient to the rules which governed him.

She listened when he spoke, enjoyed his company, and encouraged exploration of the world they shared rather than teaching what she knew. The attachment rooted deeply in her. She never saw the monster he warned her he was.

Unknown to Lethe at the time, Heimdallr was alerted by the disturbances created in the dream, and the potential of Fenrir’s threat was finally realised by his people. He displayed abilities impossibly similar to that of a dreamweaver, and given the prophecy that surrounded him and his siblings, the Norse at once feared the forces he might one day command.

Like all the other attachments formed before him, when their interactions were discovered Lethe was separated from Fenrir in the dream. But unlike the other times, it proved far more difficult to keep her permanently away, because this time she simply did not accept it. Only Morpheus had a hope of catching Lethe if she truly wished not to be found, and there was little barred to her in the dreamworld when she truly flexed her mastery of it. Her obedience had always been a choice. And the choice had always been made from love.

It was only after two failed attempts at binding Fenrir that Heimdallr consulted Morpheus on the problem, which was not a meeting Lethe was privy to, but unsurprisingly one she became aware of anyway. Despite understanding that Morpheus had aided in dream prisons before, including Fenrir’s own sister, she was horrified. She’d never questioned her superiors before, never wondered at the consequences of the things she did in service of Hades. The Court of the Oneiroi had given her purpose, but more than that, it had given her family. But when she confronted Morpheus, he was unmoved.

Nyx consulted on the design, using information gleaned from her research on Lethe herself. The research was turned over to the dwarves who would use it with their own secret knowledge to make the chains.

At that, Morpheus considered the matter done with, and a wrinkle in the dream smoothed out. By then the Atharim uprisings were in full force, and he could not afford the distraction. But Lethe couldn’t let the matter lie. Though she fulfilled her duties, her recalcitrance grew. She spent more time alone. Searching. Scouring. Trying to prevent the final binding by any means possible.

Awake, Lethe had no idea who Fenrir even was, though she sometimes discussed the strangest or most personal of her drawings with Melinoe. Though she was increasingly unsettled by lingering storms of resentment in her chest when in the company of Morpheus, she could not fathom any just cause. For the first time she began carrying a drawing with her constantly: it was of a wolf in chains, and she could not fathom the feelings which swelled inside every time she looked at it. When she began waking up with messages cut into her arm from her dreaming self, she naturally confided her confusion in Nyx.

It was Nyx who first broached the subject with Morpheus. That Lethe was becoming a dangerous liability, and a temporary solution must be enacted.

The Power of a Name

TBC

The Chair of Forgetfulness 

Lethe was filled with questions and fear when they told her. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t keep her memories – she would never betray the Underworld’s secrets – and neither did she truly understand why she had been chosen. If the Underworld had become somewhere dangerous for gods to remain, there were far more important people who deserved the protection. The prospect of sitting on the Chair terrified her: it was the unmaking she had always feared. That it was asked of her by the people she loved most almost shattered her, even when Nyx soothed that they would retrieve her when it was safe. That the measure was only temporary.

They were asking her to give up everything and everyone who had ever mattered to her.

Lethe never knew the details: the negotiations that had preceded, the true reasons she was sent away. And the scheme was withheld entirely from her dreaming-self.

And so, in the end, Lethe sat on the very chair she had commanded, and was unmade.

Significant Relationships

Hades: The court to whom Lethe was loyal. She considered him a father figure, and both loved him dearly and was afraid of his wrath.

Melinoë: A friendship maintained despite eventual disapproval, for Lethe was not always a great influence in ensuring Melinoë behaved in the dreamworld.

Nyx: Lethe’s maternal grandmother, a formidable woman who dwelt much of the time in the prison of Tartarus, and to whom Lethe was close. Much of Lethe’s fascination with monsters stemmed from Nyx and her unusual upbringing.

Hypnos: Nyx’s son, and Lethe’s initial teacher in the dreamworld

Morpheus: ruler of the Oneiroi and King of Dreams, son of Hypnos, and therefore technically a cousin

Other Relationships

Poseidon’s Court: All rivers lead to the sea, and Lethe was often known to visit Poseidon’s court in the dream. In particular she was enamoured of the watery creatures he created and commanded. Though she had no association with Poseidon himself, in her current life as Nimeda she refers to him as “The Vengeful Sea”

Odin: Obsessed with prophecy and the coming threat of Ragnarok, it was inevitable he would find Lethe in the dream. For more on their relationship, see: Niorun

Coyote: trickster god with whom Lethe associated in the dream, before Nyx put an end to it

Fenrir: the wolfbrother the Norse gods were terrified of, whom she came to know as Vánagandr. It was Lethe who accidentally discovered his potential in the dream. When it came to Morpheus and Heimdallr’s attention, his resultant confinement by gleipnir meant she never saw him again. Lethe never forgave Nyx for her involvement in the binding.

Current Incarnation: Thalia Milton

Previous Incarnations:

2nd Age: During the Age of Legends, she is born Alethea Sayre Maelsouvra, a researcher particularly interested in the nature of and connection between souls, dreams and memories. A failed experiment leads to the tethering of her soul to the Dreamworld, where she continues to exist between being reborn. Until this experiment (which kills her Waking self), there is cohesion between her Waking and Dreaming self, and thus she remembers Dreams.

3rd Age: Miraseia, Aes Sedai of the White Ajah. Depending on her influences in this life, she may ultimately end up fighting for either the Light or the Shadow. Due to the unknown nature of Dreamwalking for most of this Age, her Waking self invariably suffers the brand of insanity (this being what leads her to the White Ajah, and sometimes the Black). Most often this is also the life in which she actively represses her creative outlets due to not understanding them. Her dream-self is highly susceptible to negative forces in the Dreamworld.

5th Age: Born as the Egyptian goddess Sothis, personification of the Sirius star. The tenets of her soul led her to train with the 5th Age Tārās. Her dream self is a formidable force, owing to cohesion discovered through the Tārās’s practices. Though of course no memories are shared between her Waking and Dreaming selves, they are aware of the other in this life. Depending on her life experience and those she befriends, she might take on healing or wrathful aspects, but even in her vengeance she is usually a force for good, owing to the positive influences of Buddhist teachings. She is particularly skilled at protecting against nightmares and bad omens found in dreams during this life. As per the teachings of the Tārās’s boundless compassion, she is drawn to the Needs of others, a trait Nimeda still strongly retains. As per the tenets of her soul, she is most drawn to those outcast. Thus her name in this life never lasts into myth.

7th Age: Nimue, the Lady of the Lake in Arthurian legend