2 x 2

“What the hell is going on here?” Lithuania cried to Felix.

Felix was still a little groggy. After his disagreement with Lithuania over the harshness of locking up an inoffensive Nilbmahian couple, he had sent himself to bed—just to be shaken awake moments later by Lithuania, who claimed he wouldn’t believe what she’d found.

Felix looked to his left, at the cell with the still-unconscious Winfry and Isa. Then down the hall, at the other cell, with the sleeping Winfry and Isa. “You’re asking me,” said Felix, who had apparently accepted the fact that the laws of reason and logic no longer applied to anything. “This place keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

The new pair of Nilbmahians had been thoroughly examined for injuries. Both were fine, though the new Winfry had the back of his shirt tattered, and the skin on his back showed faint white marks running the length of his spine, like scars that had healed over long ago. His clothes were covered in blood, but he was uninjured. His vitals were steady.

The new Isa, however, was almost dead. Her pulse was so slow, it was hard to understand how she was even alive. Her face was colorless, and her chest was covered in blood, but she, too, was unharmed.

“You think they have a clue?” said Lithuania.

“What—that they’ve got doppelgangers?” said Felix.

“Well, yeah.”

Felix shrugged. “This place is enough to drive anyone crazy. What do you think happened to them?” Felix indicated the new Winfry and Isa with a tilt of his head.

“There was this thick, pulpy blood everywhere. Like something exploded.”

“Probably another monster. They all die in crazy ways. A lot of them have a knack for exploding.”

“Exploding?”

“Yeah,” said Felix. “Sorry I haven’t exactly had time to elaborate on more than the Monolith, but we’ve caught sight of some weird-ass things—and gotten attacked by a bunch of weird ass things. Sometimes, a bullet to the head will make them explode. It’s really random, really, but some of them make incredible messes.”

“So you’re saying these two, harmless looking Nilbmahians killed a probably-AssMachenstani monster?”

Felix nodded. “They must’ve. Unless all that pulp was a really big watermelon.”

“OK… So they’re stronger than they look.” Lithuania paused. “Or they killed an easy-to-kill yet highly explosive monster.”

“I’m thinking the former,” said Felix.

Lithuania nodded, looking through the cell bars at the unconscious couple. “Me too.”

Felix took a deep breath, looked around the dungeons, and placed his hands on his hips. “So,” he said. “We’ve got two Nilbmahians, two Nilbmahian replicas, and what is probably a mentally unstable LusciousLockian prince in custody. Things are getting fun.”

“Yeah. Fun. And we’ve still got a whole lot to figure out.”

“What, like what these two—er, four, are up to?”

“That, and what they’re hiding. And what Timoteo is hiding. And what’s going on with this place. I also think we should go check the city out, with Timoteo this time. We need to find the LusciousLockian people.”

Felix nodded. “I know, I know. But before we do any of that, we still have to move on down to the next concrete tower. The tunnels here aren’t stable anymore, remember?”

Lithuania nodded. “Wake the other two up. Take them to the cells under the next tower. I’ll wait by these until they come to.”

“And Timoteo?” Felix asked.

“Take him too. But separately from the Nilbmahians. I don’t want them interacting.”

Felix shook his head and set out to do what he was told. Lithuania pulled open the door to the unconscious couple’s cell, and sat on small wooden chair, facing Winfry. He was stirring. It looked like he was about to wake up.

Lithuania heard Felix waking the other two Nilbmahians up. They grumbled. The first Winfry seemed particularly whiney. “Come on, we’re moving you guys over,” came Felix’s voice.

“Those have got to be the saddest characters ever,” came Timoteo’s voice from down the hall. 

  

“Silence,” said Felix.

Lithuania thought for a moment. Winfry and Isa didn’t seem particularly sad to her—they were more unfortunately codependent than anything else, and maybe a little pathetic. But not sad. At least they had love, which was more than she could say for herself. And they were definitely hiding something. Lithuania didn’t want to let her guard down just because they looked harmless.

Then she gazed over the unconscious Winfry and Isa. They looked just like the first pair. Except for their pallor. These two had apparently killed a monster. Without weapons.

Lithuania heard grunts and shuffling feet. Felix was leading the first couple out, just as the unconscious Winfry opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling, expression blank. He apparently hadn’t quite come to. Then he regained his focus. He looked at the bed next to him. There was Isa, fast asleep. Then his eyes focused on who was sitting behind Isa: Lithuania.

Lithuania jumped up and went straight to business. “Good afternoon. I am Lithuania Starr, First Commander of the Foggistani Helo-Fleet. I saved you. Who are you and why are you here?” Winfry rolled his eyes and let his head plop back onto his pillow. Lithuania suddenly felt a slight pang of guilt for questioning him so soon. “I’m sorry,” she said, softening her voice. “I’m sorry, I’m a bitch sometimes. You’re weak, and tired.”

“What happened?” said Winfry. Lithuania wasn’t even sure he had heard her.

“We found you in the woods. You and your partner were apparently attacked by something.”

Winfry frowned. He looked confused, and it seemed to pain him to think. “I feel so weird,” he said.

“Do you remember anything that happened? Anything at all?”

“Yelling,” said Winfry abruptly. “Lots of noise, and pain—” Winfry’s eyes widened. He sat up and attempted to examine his back.

“It’s OK, you’re not injured,” said Lithuania. “Neither is Isa.”

Winfry looked at Lithuania, surprised. “How did you know… her name?”

“Listen,” said Lithuania, leaning in closer. “I need you to be honest with me, and tell me what you remember. How you came here. Why you came here. And how you destroyed the monster that attacked you. Could you do that for me?” 

Winfry gulped. He wasn’t so sure he knew anything himself. But might this be the person the librem was asking him to help?

At that moment, Isa stirred. “Oh good," said Lithuania. "I think she’s waking up.” 

The Doppelgangers

Lithuania left Felix looking after the Nilbmahians and Timoteo, while she walked down the tunnels alone, making her way to the surface. The darkness of the tunnels was numbing, and the perpetually blackened skies of LusciousLocks, every so often mixed with the illusion of twilight, weren’t exactly more comforting; but at least outside there was open space. A dangerous open space, for sure, but open space nonetheless. Lithuania knew that so long as she didn’t wander too far from the concrete tower, she’d be fine. 

She reached the stairwell out of the tunnels, pushed the unnecessarily heavy wrought-iron door, and stumbled outside. The air was cold against her cheeks, and the sky was, as usual, darkened by swirling gray clouds. She sat on the step to the tower’s entrance, and inhaled deeply. At least the air was fresh. Last time she had been out here, the heat was quickly growing unbearable. She closed her eyes, and let her mind wander… Wander away from the concrete tower… away from the forest… away from LusciousLocks. She let her mind wander to Marco. Wherever he was, she knew he was alive. She had seen him. In a world darker than hers, but filled with a blazing orange glow. There was fire. Marco was agitated. He had seen her. He seemed to think he was seeing a ghost. He looked terrified. And that had been all. Lithuania had popped back into the trembling tunnels, dazed. Her subsequent memories were confused.

“Marco, where are you?” Lithuania whispered.

And without really thinking much, Lithuania stepped away from the tower and wandered towards the woods. She clutched her pistol out of instinct as she entered the dense forest. For some reason, at that moment LusciousLocks just didn’t feel all that threatening. Until Lithuania stepped on something squishy.

She looked down, immediately removing her foot from whatever she had stepped on. She couldn’t tell with perfect accuracy, but it looked red. Like a thick, pulpy substance… or…

Lithuania loaded her gun and held it aloft, her eyes struggling through the surrounding darkness. She looked down at the bloody pulp. Whatever it was, it seemed to have exploded—and splattered in a particular direction. Lithuania looked in that direction, and saw two bodies, lying inert on the forest floor. Two familiar bodies…

“What the…” Lithuania approached them. A woman, unconscious, lying over a man, unconscious. Both were still breathing. The blood wasn’t theirs, or at least not the woman’s. The man seemed to have sustained injuries. Lithuania pushed the woman’s hair aside. “The hell?” They were hardly alive, but Lithuania was sure it was them. They were Isa and Winfry—again. 

The Rebuttal

…

A sketchy tale? Well, even the narrator admits it. Puh. Wow! What an idiot. Probably thinks he/she knows everything I bet. Doesn’t even know the first That conceited Thinks he can just Got another thing coming The nerve on that AHHHHH!!!

…

That narrator hardly knows anything about winfry and isa, and pretending to know how they met with Lithuania… It’s funny really. Pretentious prick. Like winfry doesn’t even struggle when Lithuania snatches the librem. Come on! There is no way he would take that standing. And if he were trying to play it off like the book didn’t mean anything he wouldn’t be clutching it “as if it were a secret-laden diary.” He would have least struggled with the officer holding him or tensed up or something. And this whole thing with winfry taking the lead and telling the story in the beginning. No way. Sure if he did try to make up a story it would sound just as pitiful, but winfry’s not that stupid. He would have let isa take the reigns and isa would have taken them. That’s what she had been doing all along: the tea date, the rescue, the killing of assmachestani assassins, the snogging, the everything. The only times winfry took charge were when the quilaire was getting to him. And when the quilaire was getting to him he wasn’t such a git.

And then this telepathic business between winfry and isa? That’s absurd. They just know each other really well. It’s not… Well, maybe… I guess that would explain a few things. But still. That doesn’t mean anything. It’s trivial. That doesn’t show that the narrator actually knows winfry and isa. So what. You know their names big deal; you don’t actually know them.

I mean there is no way I would completely miss how isa and winfry met up with Lithuania. That’s a critical moment in my story. Of course I would know how that happened. winfry objectively had is shoulder shredded by an Assmachestani assassin. Even with isa’s healing he still had a hideous scar and everyone saw it. And there’s no way isa would have been able to heal something that big with out collapsing. So that leaves them both passed out in the woods for hours if not days. How would they have survived that? Ask the other narrator that. They wouldn’t have. That’s what. They would have died as soon as the other Assmachestani agents came to check on the disappearance of their assassin. The only way they could have survived would be if someone helped them out and who else in LusciousLocks would help them out except for Lithuania. So how did isa and winfry meet up Lithuania? They got saved by her after being attacked by an Assamachestani assassin. No other way.

□ QED Betch.

The Smoke Clears

Previously, on the Chronicles of Coralende, Jessica Banks starred creepily at Peter Pidgeons while he showered… Only joking.

Previously, on the Chronicles of Coralende, an assassination attempt cut a close to mr. martin’s first meeting with the enigmatic magistrate. Before he could even be surprised at still being alive, jacob was floored, literally, to see the magistrate conjuring a dark web to shield them from the explosion that had demolished the other half of the mansion. And as if these events hadn’t already quiet completely blown his mind, the magistrate flew, but actually flew, like a model-rocket, up into the air towards a woods where the assassin presumably was.

An avalanche of adrenaline and other neurotransmitters fireworked off and jacob’s entire experience was heightened and on edge. It had to be, instincts. Ten deep breaths were not going to cut it. jacob didn’t even know where to begin: someone had just tried to kill them and the magistrate could fly like a comic-strip hero! How could that be possible? Was it even possible? But he had seen it, was still seeing it as a black dot hovered above the woods. What else could the magistrate do? Did landers know? This was an entirely different ball game now. For the first time in a long time, mr. martin felt his feet slipping. He was back on his feet but he was developing a slouch.

And who was trying to kill them? Was it both of them or just the magistrate? Who would want to kill… well, he could think of a few. And how could they, he or she have followed the magistrate (that had to be the real target) this far? It had taken all his tricks for jacob to get so far. Who else was out there that could do that?

“Who?”

The magistrate’s return was abrupt as he landed on jacob’s back sending him crashing to the floor. He must have snuck around when jacob was thinking.

“I wish I knew,” jacob finally managed after collecting his knocked out breath.

“True. I would have known if you had been stupid enough to try something.” jacob took that as permission to push himself to his feet again. His entire rib cage would be purple the next day. He risked a glance over at the magistrate, who was staring at nothing in particular. “landers.” Then the magistrate spoke stretching out each syllable in a very low pitch that seemed to vibrato in and out of hearing.

Then next hour passed in silence. Had it been another person in jacob’s situation, it would have been intensely awkward. The need to release the traumatic experience compounded by the itch of the uncertainty of the upcoming events wouldn’t be dammed easily. But maybe mr. martin had a touch of undiagnosed aspergers; sharing intense emotional experiences never seemed part of his coping mechanisms. Thinking was his coping mechanism. Once in kindergarten two kids knocked down an elaborate block castle that he had been building for an hour. Much to the teacher’s surprise, instead of throwing a fit or trying to pummel the two other boys the 6-year-old jacob just stared at the pile of blocks. However, jacob’s thinking was not professorial thinking that rarely results in direct change of action. jacob martin’s thinking concluded with new action. A week after the castle incident, one of the boy’s birthday present race car was found, by jacob, smashed up in the trash and the other boy’s new fall jacket got cut up with scissors. So they sat there in silence quite content just thinking their thoughts until landers car pulled up.

The magistrate’s earlier vocal display must have been some sort of the magical communication to landers. Did the magistrate not have a cell phone? More than likely he was going for effect and landers was more than affected. Hesitation and hint of fear had breached landers’ personality. He got out of the car with his shoulders down glancing back and forth searching for something to keep from looking up to the magistrate. And when he finally approached the magistrate, the later prolonged the tension by waiting for landers to speak first.

“huh…” side glance to what used to be front porch of the mansion. “what, happened?”

“Someone knew we were here. That’s what happened.” In a blink of the eye, the magistrate was only centimeters away from landers’ face and what he said was far too soft for anyone but landers to hear. Only landers excuses coupled with apologies indicated the direction of the conversation.

“No, I reassure you, no one else was on the road. They had to be in the woods. I’m sor”

“That would have been almost inconceivable. Watching that would just risk more exposure. It won’t happen”

“No, I haven’t heard of anything. None of the players have even a suspicion. You’ve seen my reports. It almost has to be someone outside. I will look into it right a”

“Yes, your magistrate. Yes. Of course.”

The magistrate turned to address jacob. “landers will take you back now, mr. martin. You will hear from me soon.”

jacob walked to the passenger side but stopped before he got in. “Ah, excuse me, but if you want, I still have an in on nilbmah’s underground currents. I could look into possible leads for this assassin if you’d like.” landers lips must have pursed but jacob wouldn’t have caught it because the magistrate’s long stare occupied his eyes.

“ok”

The magistrate turned and walked away and jacob got in the car.

Another silent hour carried jacob home. When he got inside and saw landers drive off, he realized how professional athletes could make such foolish victory displays. He was overcome with joy and energy. That was the most fun he had had in years, in decades.