The Before

The pen-pen-penultimate time on the Chronicles of Coralende, you, Lithuania and that random banker who also reads this blog were left wondering what in all hell were isa and winfry doing in LusciousLocks. Well you’re not going to find out now. Well, actually you sort of are. But still, sort of not.

Anyway, you probably forgot already but before this whole LusciousLocks fiasco, winfry was walking isa home from café Luminot. And no, the serial killer, gang or whatever it was that had been causing all the murders that winfry was worrying about didn’t get them but unfortunately the next day’s news reported 4 more deaths, and the day-after-that’s 3 more and after-that’s 5 more and so on. In spite of all of the NIA’s efforts, the killings went on for a week or so. That was when the nilbmah government mandated a curfew starting at 11:00 pm. A curfew! In nilbmah?! How could the partiest nation of all of Coralende have curfew?! It was totally absurd, but so were all those peculiarly persistent murders. So after a few days of national complaining and more letters to the editor than the editor had room in 900 mailboxes for, the nilbmahians got used to the curfew and practically didn’t think about it anymore

“What? Why not? How could they forget about it so soon. Their rights were being compromised how could they all just give them up so easily?” In spite of all her dealings with Prince Timeteo, Lithunia still had a hard time realizing that not everyone had Foggistani mindsets.

“Foggistanis really do need more study abroad programs. It certainly helped me.” was winfry’s reply.

“What?”

“Never, mind,” isa continued, “the point is, more than their parties, what nilbmahians really love is to relax and above all keep stress levels low. So protesting beyond a few angry letter’s to the editor is really way more than its worth for them, or most of them at least. Besides, all the murders had gone down after the curfew was set, for a little while at least.”

So all the nilbmahians forgot about the curfew, just like they failed to notice the slow introduction of censorship, just like they got over the restrictions in public transportation, just like they didn’t hear about the law that allowed the government to break and enter without a warrant – all the nilbmahians except for winfry and isa. Speaking of them, they had gotten up to some crazy stuff. For appetizers, winfry finally started to publish his myth. In addition to all her other goddessliness, isa seemed to be a muse as well. winfry soon had quite a novella on his hands. And although I had said winfry’s past 7 years as a writer were fail, they were really just mostly fail. Of course his writing was atrocious but he had accumulated quite a collection of literary connections. You see, winfry was and probably still is an actuary. And as an actuary he had worked slash just-been-a-helpful-chap on many actuary-y projects for many publishing companies and newspapers. As a result of this and of winfry being more socially adept than he gives himself credit for, the heads of said businesses liked him, a lot. So when winfry sent out his myth to the publishers, he received several offers. However, the first person to respond was jacob martin, editor of the citadel post, one of nilbmah citadel’s top 3 newspapers. Before isa, jacob was the closest thing to a friend winfry had. jacob shared winfry’s hesitation about nilbmahian social life but he was more inclined to conformity than winfry. More importantly jacob was almost as equally interested in nilbmahian mythology. Not even a day had gone by before mr. martin was on the phone with winfry discussing how they would publish his myth in a weekly column in the literature section of the post.

That night isa made winfry shitake mushroom and pecorino cheese crepes with sugared pears and lemon asparagus on the side. Candles did come out.

Oh winfry and isa… Such a peculiar relationship. Though their “date” at café luminot ended, winfry's questions never seemed to and neither did isa’s patients. In fact, she seemed to thrive off of finally having someone with whom she could contemplate, speculate, debate and bang her head against the wall because of her predicament. They soon spent more time together than they did with themselves, which for the two introverts was unusual. But even though tea at café luminot bound them tighter than sodium and chloride, at the same time it put them on entirely different levels. I mean, isa was a demi-boarding-on-entirely-goddess and winfry was, well, not normal, but not superhuman either – at least he thought so.

winfry gave up all pretext of considering himself normal one night when isa brought him a gift from the library. They were celebrating the success of winfry’s episodic myth. After only three installments, he already had a wide readership and several positive reviews. You see, not only was the writing fair, the timing was superb. With the ever earlier curfew, censorship, right-wronging laws and no sign of an end the trend of social restriction, winfry’s myth portrayed nilbmah in exactly the opposite light and this was exactly what the nilbmahians needed. So they were celebrating and isa brought a present.

In spite of winfry’s resistance, isa refused to take back the gift. She said that she would never be able to repay him for allowing her to open up to him. But when winfry finally opened up the package, isa was confused. I hardly need to tell you it was a book but it wasn’t the book isa had wrapped or so she said.

“Wait? That’s not what I got you. The book I got you didn’t have this leather binding with a buckle. This is so peculiar. This has to be the package I wrapped. But I wrapped a book by a Alexander Bates called “Myths and the making: the influences of mythology” – I thought it would be fitting. But this certainly isn’t that. Even for me this is kind of strange.”

But winfry wasn’t listening. He was immediately entranced with the book. Like when you are surprised to see a photo of yourself when you weren’t quite yet you and the picture locks you in, that’s what winfry was like just then. Later he would recall the influence of the quilare but right then, he was oblivious. He ran his fingers down the rather worn spin, undid the bronze buckle and opened the book to the first page. He felt the same thrill as the day he ecstatically ran up to his mom to show her that he had finally learned the magic behind the symbols in the book he was waving about.

“librem,” winfry muttered even though neither he nor anyone else in a good long while recognized the print on the title page. He flipped to the preface and gasped before chuckling. Surprised, isa drew close to winfry and read in small thin penmanship:

I was no one before; I am no one now. Don’t you ever forget that.

- winfry winster

“I don’t understand. Is this an ancestor’s? Surely you can’t have written this? But it does look uncannily like your handwriting. This is so strange…”

But winfry still wasn’t listening even though isa was so close he could feel her warm breath against his earlobe. Instead of answering, he turned to the next page and read out loud. “Beware, be ready, become what’s within because being is about to be in question. Your welcome has come to an end. You must leave soon and yet be more rooted than before. Go find the one you can help to help you and no, I’m not talking about isa.” It was the same handwriting as the preface. This time isa didn’t waste her breath and winfry flipped through to find the rest of the pages blank. When he went back only the preface remained, the other cryptic foreshadowing bit was gone. And then he snapped out of it and the book closed.

“Wow! That’s the craziest gift I’ve ever received, isa. It’s great thanks.”

They, winfry and isa, spent the rest of the evening and a good bit of the early morning trying to figure out what this book was all about. They gathered that it was a librem (what winfry mutter when he first opened the book remember?). The forgotten manuscripts of the phylanx saga mentions a book of power wielded by a mortal known as librem. Unfortunately the rest of the document was never uncovered. So that’s where their figuring out ended for several weeks.

Of course they didn’t tell this whole bit to Lithuania.

But their figuring didn’t actually finish, it just changed. Unlike the rest of the nilbmahians, they were figuring out a lot of strange things. The first noticed that the once a week international sections of all the periodicals mysteriously stopped appearing during the same week. They called the newspaper companies but were just put on a carousel ride going round and round. The last company they called, called them back threatening to call law enforcement if they continued to bother. Then winfry received an email aggressively telling him to stop his myths; he refused. Then winfry received threatening phone calls. Then he was knocked out into a van and woke up in a dark cell.