626.
That was the amount of days. Not months, nor years, mind you. Because only a year will pass, and it has to be at least twenty years in the temporal stream before anything is bound to start changing.
We're stuck here. Bound to these walls, bound to our Queen, bound to our brotherhood and sisterhood, and as a family we will die.
She told us to. She said that without us, not even the scribes will be able to defend against the masses of the corrupted beasts. The land needed soldiers. And even if we never fought, we were its most important material: wood. Wood could easily build a shield, it could easily build a house's foundation, a bed frame, or table. We knew this. Those who were not made and taught by this land should forget about living here.
I didn't know anyone who was born outside of here. That was the nature of our lands and its people, much too proud, much too stiff to come along and accept anything unknown, less welcome outsiders into their homes and lives.
Onkhivol thrived this way, no longer will any of us fall to outside attackers, nor inside or below; the moment someone does not have a place in the world is the moment they should discard their morals, their beliefs, and join us.
We could raise their consciousness after they've eaten the first meal. We won't allow another one of us to leave ever again. Not now, nor ten thousand years later.
Please.
No one will betray me, no one will betray us.
Our eyes have strayed from the true ideals of the world.
What a sad thing it is.
A person couldn't be held responsible for when the world decides to forsake them.
Our only love in life is the One and Only White.
...
"Have you lost your damn mind?! A story is a form of art, boy! Put it together properly or I won't read this at all! You've gotten way ahead of yourself! You haven't even settled the story's plot yet! And you think I'll read some garbage like that?!" A man of old had yelled out towards an imperfect story being written by young hands. Those hands were capable and swift, but not enough to produce the right material.
"But... you're right about the blood and gore part... To get the job right you can go closer to the abdomen and work to the lower intestines where they sort of slide around a lot, it's not flexible since the connective tissues of the brain contain more liquid than blood which cause it to be more flaccid in feeling, almost as if like a sponge if held in dry air. You're going to want to have the abdominal cavity mostly hollow-looking, not filled to the brim with blood, and can insert weapons up to three inches away from the lumbar area. There are also lots of veins and capillaries near the wall and diaphragm if you wish to puncture a small amount of blood." The old man's tone suddenly changed as he went into details about the materials he'd be working with, obviously knowledgeable about the matter.
"Ah... I'm sorry mister... I just haven't written a thing in so long that... It kind of slips my mind what wording to use!" The youth's smile was wide. He couldn't help it, he was just nervous.
"And if you're so GODDAMN sorry then write the DAMN BOOK! I want an unnecessarily great amount of detail! Don't think of letting one slip past my attention. This is a special order for a special buyer, I'm paying you a big amount for this, remember!? Don't disappoint!" The loudness of the words pierced through the empty-aired city of the inner walls.
The bookstore owner had heard of the youth's talents, and since business had been slacking, he offered the writer a share in his profits.
This was an underdeveloped world that had forgotten the wonders of the original stories and fairy tales. Nobody read stories anymore, everyone was just content on merely getting information from the outer-dwellers, and a chunk of those people were no better than rabid mongrels.
'His skin is white, and his eyes are blue, he has medium length hair... and it looks perfect. It always feels... soft, oh! And his cheeks are rosy, of course! That's great, but his hair color would be...'
Wham!
The door slammed open, revealing a hooded man, a woman and a black figure in behind.
The youth immediately recognized the robed clothing of the two in front of the black figure; clothing that signifies whether one is from the inner or outer walls. "S-sir... and... madam? And... thing?"
The boy was speechless, but he knew the inner-walled folk shouldn't have anything to do with the outer-walled, especially not if there was no message beforehand.
In fact, the timing made him believe that his life was about to be cut short, after all. The White Queen had her preferences leaning towards the outer-walled... 'maybe?' It may not have necessarily been a surprise, after all, but one was hopeful.
Hope was necessary.
To want the Queen's unattended attention was like wanting a bird to hatch, except where the mother gives the child food directly into its mouth; in hopes of the said child eventually being independent.
He felt the cold winds freezing the atmosphere. Even if they were inside, and a lantern was dully glowing atop a desk, its heat was unbearable, this was where the hooded man stepped closer and...
Greeting the youth.
"Hello, fellow wall-dweller, I know I have come here uninvited and all. But this is a part of my duty as a leader and—sorry... sometimes I word my sentences a bit too well. What I came here for was something more direct. The man behind us two is someone willing to join the inner-walls, or at least visit them.
"H-h-huh?! You mean to say... he ate and lived through the First of Forty-Eight?! Wow... how amazing, that's something that no one in almost two years since it's been prepared could. Most would usually drop down dead a few hours later once the effects begin taking a serious toll on their bodies... I-I mean... sorry, I got carried away. But, I'm not sure where our leader is- He's the only one who has the power to grant entry, and I'm just someone writing books down here..."
The hooded leader looked around for a bit, just to notice that this place was stacked with only three books, maximum.
'Phew, this place must have close to no business. Well, none that would be enough to become the place's main income, at least.' Zabulus thought this was a shame, but everyone had some set of problems in this world anyway, so he was likely bound to come across something like this if he kept making these huge detours back to his world.
"So... I'm telling you... There is no one in here who could help you, even I couldn't! Y-you see... our leader is the only one with that power and he hates everyone from the outside." The youth shied down again.
"And I'm coming here as the leader of the outer-walls! So, he should be able to be reasoned with, at least." The man turned to the person behind him, "Right, Thing?"
"Who are you calling thing, and why are you asking me, god damn it?" Zabulus sounded angry and a bit reluctant; the sudden exclamation made Phronta shriek as if by reflex.
"W-Wah! P-please don't fight... Not in h-here... or anywhere... or! Or w-why did you two f-fight in the first place?!" She hurriedly cut in. The sight of Zabulus looking frustrated scared her even more.
"We don't have time for this, actually... I've decided that I'll go and find your stupid leader myself. I'm sure the Queen will be even more excited if I come with a new addition. Plus, this will make this whole process ten times easier rather than asking around at at-risk businesses like this."
"Huh?" The youth felt a pang of humiliation. But he needed to keep his professionalism! This was his very first job and his passion had slowly started to waver... Plus, his sanity.
"Y-You... where do you think our leader is? Or do you want us to take you there, since you don't look much like a person capable of finding-"
"Oh? I definitely cannot do it. How could a weak-kneed little boy with noodle arms as yours lead anybody around town, huh?!"
"..." They expected another apology to leave the boy's mouth, but instead what the boy did was retort with "Then why are you here?! Go out and find him if you want to get shit done yourself."
...
Unpredictable was the best word to describe this new factor.
Those who held self-interest in mind were all the same. So what are those whose morals were not held dear, the ones who didn't have an ounce of selfishness left in them, left to do besides to take over the world...?
They wouldn't do that. Not the way it can be seen.
No. No! Of course not.
Because the way they could see is the truth. Nothing is truer than what their eyes present to them, it's all just so flawless, the way the universe works.
Their Queen decided to bring her world's vision, albeit gradually, through her warriors. What was the meaning of existence, if not to become a glorious instrument for the will of someone greater. The ideal goal, if not to follow this path with glee, as though being given love by a mother that was pure.
If she has lost something; and surely she has, and not a single person could right her wrongs... then we will get back to square one and try it all over again until she has a successor.
"There is no point to living in a world without a ruler, now, isn't that 'right'?" The old bookseller who received no answer because of the lack of presences surrounding him, looked almost lonely, and that, oh the most foul of them all, made him feel scared, left out and as if an invisible cold hand was holding onto his throat, threatening to push him down and choke him until his eyes began popping.
Slowly, ever so slowly. The quietness washed over him.
He finally spoke: "No. Certainly not."
Rationality takes over. Sanity, over the unreasonable.
The old man could not believe the words he had said, 'say it again!?'
He felt that his teeth were about to fall out any moment, cold shivers would accompany him every day now, just like that. It scared him.
"Hahaha..." The old man could not help but laugh, even as the pain reached his bones.
Nothing seems right to him at that moment.
Not now and not before. Three; there were three people here. He approaches and they're all gone, the only person left being a young boy.
How could he sleep with his eyes open?
Something was not right. There wasn't a day on this land where another unknown, strange and forlorn man would enter here without having lived through the First of Forty-Eight.
Perhaps, then, he must have come from a distant land faraway.
A land where their Queen's name had no power to it, no recognition. It was no longer easy; they had to reach their elusive leader somehow before that man arrived there; perhaps the inner-walled dwellers did not realize it now. But this old man certainly did.
He did know what would happen if that outer wall dwellers were to present such a potential threat to their leader. Were they out of their minds? Completely. Their existence may well have been nothing more than a speck of dust. And a single speck could be the eye of a thousand, countless amounts of creatures could see a single side of their true faces in a moment in time.
That is why the 'Eyes of Onkhivol' were always in pursuit.
Not by The White Queen, but by each and every single one of us.
...
'Just as time stops, hearts slow, and the eye-lids become heavier, I bid thee; traveler, come sit beneath my window and listen to a tale as old as us.'
A girl spoke.
Even if the party of 3 was currently strolling through without paying mind to much of anything; however, one of the members felt chills running down their spine.
Zabulus.
'She spoke to me, I couldn't imagine why. I didn't think someone would speak to a perfect stranger; sitting there alone with those wilted flowers beside her. Nothing is moving, the night's wind is still, and no matter how I try to look for it, the silence is the only thing I hear. She whispers of the dreams she's seen, and the life she lives. I sense every feeling, all wrapped into my mind, but the empty soul I've known for so long is only getting emptier, the feeling of loss and grief re pouring over me now. Even in her world of gold and silver, my body cannot rest or lift a finger. A warm red cloth holds me up into something else, something that is not entirely human, nor Godly... These great mangled, misshapen flesh-covered hands were not the same ones I saw just a moment ago covering my vision, making me go blind in the snowstorm. Why did it hurt? The snowstorm went away. I was back where I was a second ago, safe and with two people that call me family. This is where I should be now. Now? Is this them anymore?'
"You do not see the same two you once saw; what you're seeing is a fading after-image of their past in time, which shall soon be gone. Did you know? That there can be no still soul in time. None without the power of Vespara, the God of Time. I took interest in you, Azkite." A certain deranged sounding; yet elegant looking crimson woman with sharp fangs spoke to Zabulus.
It smelled of stale time and space, yet somehow he could breathe in this crooked realm of nothing that he was in.
"The world does not know what state you are in; thus you are safe to move as it figures out whether you are truly inside this space or not." Her voice was low and sultry, almost seductive. "But, you see, there is nothing to do, there is no one to know, there is nowhere to be, and there is no one to know. What's your name, Azkite?"
"..."
Zabulus did not answer. He stared at the body, the woman's and the crimson locks, the familiar dark gray, her feminine appearance, and her gentle hands stroking his face. "Isn't that just nostalgic? You're seeing the state of the world where it was before we came back from the ashes. Don't you wish you could have... been there? This is the blessing of Vespara's Ardour, and its curse. You may go backwards in time, but you will never find any living being. Don't you find the facts interesting?" She spoke with a tone of great interest and enthrallment.
"The supreme insanity of time does not abide by the rules of the logical, and who are you? I'm trying to be calm... but, where are the people I was with?"
"Would you really call that being calm, or are you just hiding behind a mask of indifference because of the horrible deaths and carnage you had witnessed? Everything I say is wrong to you. Because you do not listen." She started levitating; as if there was no gravity around and spun all around him. "I am an acolyte of Vespara, the embodiment of time. The flow of time does not start now, nor does it start when the origin of the flow ends. It simply connects and unites together into a singularity."
Suddenly, as if a black hole burst forward, it connected to the endless cosmos of time and the flow was re-started... Except not so much the world.
Her realm had its own separate time, and she refused to give any details, except... "The name's Avtarus. Try to live for twenty more years, and we may meet again... what did she call you? L~a~m~b~!" She gave a kiss from afar as she walked around a corner and everyone appeared next to him in a 'blink'.
"God! W-What's wrong with you, p-playing with us like some sideshow c-circus!" Phronta stepped away from Zabulus and breathed a few more times, relieved to see him appear again, but questioning where he went to in the first place.
"Almost thought you got lost or killed there, Kid, cause this map of the inner walls ain't on just yet, and the people here have shut most entrances to the inner city. My compass also went nuts." The hooded leader took the compass out and gave a strong nod, "Looks like nothing was broken after all. Good. Wasn't looking forward to any of the locals going into a grumpy mood because of the outsider they were tasked to escorting around."
"Ah... did... any of you see that woman?"
"h-h-huh?"
"Woman? You gon' go act' like that and look for some ass?"
"No no, she was weird, though. Probably. She was talking about time being frozen and-"
"Kid, you thinking straight, or are we gonna have to think you drank? Is that why you were gone for a couple of minutes?"
"...yes, I'm sober, and yes, my thoughts are definitely straight." Zabulus retorted in confidence, giving his best straight face possible to say. But that did nothing to impress the hooded man, who was instead shaking his head.
To Zabulus. That encounter was not exactly the strangest thing he'd ever experience, and from the looks of the current time period, many things may have happened while he was gone. If he believed what Avtarus told him...
Then everything is just connected, much too vague, and never an answer of what the goal was. Still. For him, nothing was out of place. People were as normal and the behavior a human exhibited was almost always more than predictable.
...or as many say, their behavior couldn't be that complicated. They wouldn't be able to make many more moves or do other things besides staying in their comfort zone, which was the only thing stopping them from doing anything.
"We're almost there. Keep a steady pace. It's the big building at the end of the corner here."
At the end of the day, he figured that something or someone was out to get him. For why? He didn't know. And most likely, never would know before they foolishly kill him again.