(I just want to say thank you to everyone who's stuck with this story and supported it for so long. It's been almost a years since I began and it's thanks to your encouragement and kind comments that this tale is reaching its close. I was considering giving up on it some months ago as a few of you might know so I just want to thank you all for being there and pushing me to finish what I started. I love you all very much and God bless every one of you. I truly love writing stories like these for you and I look forward to doing more for you in the future. Fun fact, I love December. I love Christmas, Hanukkah, New Years, the snow and my birthday which is on Christmas Eve. Anyways, I own nothing except the plot and the oc, which is the wizard. I hope you enjoy! Good day and God bless!)
In Wonderland, despite its appearance of never ending riches, there is an issue with the quality of living. It isn't a matter of poverty or corruption in the government or even poor planning. The Wizard evenly distributed the wealth and living space of the nation to all citizens co that no one person would lack any good thing anyone else had. Theoretically, this society should be perfect, the epitome of peace and harmony but somehow, when what was left of the Wizard's heart and mind was lost in the passage of time, he had forgotten the factor of human nature and all that makes a human who he is.
It's only natural for man to hunt for food, find shelter, have families and give reverence to God. It is only human nature to desire to work for their daily bread, to dream of climbing up in society, to have the unreachable illusion of others with better lives dangled in front of you to keep you running through this life. It brings the human race an almost childlike happiness to accomplish great things. The fact that they can accomplish is the reason they dream, breath and dare live another day.
But just as it is natural to thirst for these things that bring about prosperity like one would thirst for water in the desert, it is just as natural to hate these things, to seek every possible way to avoid work and turmoil, to thirst for self destruction and the destruction of those beside you.
The concept is that, though humans find every way to avoid hardship and turmoil they don't find the least bit pleasurable, life puts these things in their path as an obstacle in front of what they truly desire. The human will clear the obstacle and achieve what they wanted but what they couldn't understand is that it was that obstacle that made victory taste sweet and it is because of that obstacle that victory was so worth it.
This is the flaw in the society created by the Wizard's reign upon Wonderland. He came like a squall, offering things such as technology, a healthy water source, pleasures and entertainment only the very wealthy could afford, efficient energy and shortcuts out of the daily obstacles in life. He eradicated poverty, making all men equal and unable to climb above one another. The wizard had convinced the city that they were superior to all other cities, that they did not need a god because they were their own god. He accomplished incredible things and incredible damages for that society, fulfilling every basic human need and more.
He did so much good next to his crimes against humanity that it became a crime in itself. The obstacles that made life so worth it and sweet like honey were removed and all that was left was for the people of Wonderland, who had nothing to complain about or desire in life, to look straight into their own emptiness as the meaningless of their lives slowly crushed them.
Suicides and homicides skyrocketed for a reason that a people deprived of their humanity could not explain. Tourism decreased rapidly because humans gradually began to despise the emptiness of the society that all held in such high esteem. Children were unable to concentrate and began to fail in school. The normally diligent people of the workplace quit their jobs inexplicably because they couldn't find any meaning in it anymore. Youths who lacked no good thing began to lie, steal and kill because the morality they grew up on began to fray.
Wonderland, the most prosperous city on the continent, was falling apart, eating itself up from the inside because of the basic nature of the humans the Wizard had dehumanized so far to the point that murder was hardly even frowned upon anymore.
Because of the sins of the man called the Wizard of oz, the once iron foundation of his empire was rusted away into a pile of rubble, his princes and princesses reduced to nothing but fat children begging to be put out of their misery.
Even if a hero with a golden heart didn't rise up from the masses to free them, the Wonderland the wizard made would have destroyed itself and torn itself to pieces like a mad dog.
But to the good fortune of the pitiable people, the source of their earthly pleasures and the fraud they once worshiped would be stripped of his golden crown and knocked off his golden throne.
It was just good that the mighty would fall. It was only meant to be that the kings of the earth would be brought low. It was only how things should be that evil should be slain because everyone may strive, but they will never become a god, they will only succeed in becoming a devil and evil will never win, never truly.
It was that day in December when the wizard had promised his power eternal that the people of Wonderland were freed from the chains they welcomed and the wizard was brought down.
The instrument of that beautiful freedom that they had longed for for so long was in the city, but in the most unlikely place.
The young and tragic child of light destined to free them from what their bloodied hands had wrought wept silently in the bottom of the royal palace, his cries for help but mute and ragged breaths.
His small frame was on its side, huddled up in a corner like he were a mere rag doll thrown there by his owner.
The boy, Allen, had cried for so long, he did not think he had tears left but every night, when that nurse that called herself Mahoja left him alone in his quarters so that he could sleep in silence, he was proven wrong.
Sometimes, he would cry himself to sleep. Sometimes, he wouldn't sleep at all. Sometimes, he'd wonder if those horrible things he'd see at night, innocent people sick with the pathogen like him being torn apart by the guards, killing and hurting each other like animals, were just nightmares at all.
He wondered so many things in that small cage like room he was moved to and yet he silenced his curiosity because, when the guards would carry the body out, he did not want to remember who it was and the horrible way he knew they had died.
To be curious would mean to be willing to receive an answer, no matter how horrifying and cruel, and Allen was far from mature enough to accept anything like that, especially when he was alone.
Especially when there was no one by his side to tell him that things would be alright and make the pain go away. Was it so childish and selfish for him to think like that? Was he weak? Was that why he found himself trapped here to begin with?
His fervorous skin was sharply contrasted by the cold dungeon where he lay and the icy stones underneath him felt like daggers stabbing his flesh. The air stunk, having been polluted by the smell of blood and rotten oatmeal after continual years of use. Every breath felt like claws running down the side of his throat.
Another night. Another woman, a water meister, beat to death by a man, a light meister, for no reason at all. In one month, the same thing had happened almost five times. There never removed the man, only the body of the woman to replace her with another one. It was always a woman. The pathogen would differ but it was always a woman, an ignorant young lady who had no idea what cruel fate she would suffer, every single time.
Allen wondered if the guards did it on purpose, getting some sick entertainment from watching this crazed man beat women to death. It was not something he'd put beyond them as much as he hated to admit. His innocent and unmarred mind desired nothing more than to reject the sickening notion but he had seen those people who guarded this hellish prison; Their pupils were displayed to the size of olives and they never seemed to be in their right mind. They would sweat profusely even though it was quite cold outside, eat their meat raw and have sudden bouts of uncontrollable rage and borderline insanity where they would hallucinate and scream disturbing things at the top of their lungs.
If Allen were to drop the hateful lens and see them as mere human beings, he couldn't help but notice that they seemed sad, miserable but in denial about it, brainwashed and lost. It was almost as though they, to didn't want to be here guarding this prison, like they were just as imprisoned as Allen was and they took their anger out on those held here.
With either his view marred with hate or his view clear, it still didn't change the fact that there was a woman who once begged for her life in the little cell beside his as that man attacked her but now she was quiet as the grave and the man still hit her with all his might.
Allen exhausted every fiber of his body trying not to think about it too much.
He wanted to not listen to their pleas for help every night. He wanted to clamp his ears shut with his hands and forget for even mere moments but, as cruel fate would have it, he did not have enough hands to do even that, something so simple as choosing not to listen.
The bloodied stump where his arm used to be still hurt him. Sometimes the pain was so bad he thought he might pass out but Mahoja had insisted there was nothing wrong with him anymore and that he was just imagining it.
It still bled through the thin bandages the nurse put on it. She told him it should have healed up a bit more by than but Allen knew it would still bleed through because his body had been weakened so far by the pathogen. It didn't and wouldn't heal for the rest of the days he had left on this earth.
That would have frightened his at any other point in time but now he begged for death, anything to free him from this torment.
It had taken him four days to get over the worst parts of the shock. He didn't even remember a single moment of that time. It was like he was trapped in a horrid dream with no means or even a promise of escaping.
The shock fading was no less miserable. He snapped out of it only when he came to the harsh acceptance that his arm was gone and would never return no matter how much he begged it to.
It was not easy to accept. He still had yet to recover mentally. He trembled uncontrollably sometimes. All he wanted was to be a little less scared.
Once he became conscious, though, that large woman called Mahoja was waiting for him. In some ways, he was thankful for her explanation. He was thankful for the woman because she was quick to explain why he was there, why he was treated the way he was and when this torture would end.
"Listen dear child, you are here because, his lordship, the wizard of oz wanted to summon a second more powerful star, a dark star called the Emerald City but in order to do that, a great deal of human sacrifices are needed. The first time, thousands of citizens of Wonderland were sacrificed but it took a great toll on the population and city growth decreased. It was a necessary sacrifice as the other cities would never assist in such an endeavor but it will not be made again."
"...Liar…. Lying…"
"It's not a lie. His lordship, the wizard went to the other nations who were being plagued by the outbreak of the pathogen and, in his mercy, offered them a solution that would solve their problem forever."
"Shut… Up….Shut...Up…. Please..."
"The nations did accept the offer and they sent an imperial order to all their meisters to gather in Wonderland and be sacrificed to the dark star."
"N-No…! Not… True…. Lying….!"
"The meister are sick with an incurable disease. They are to die anyway but would it not be better for you to have the promise of dying for a good cause? This way, no one else has to die. The ritual can do only good for the continent."
She was correct. It was good.
Allen knew this best of all. The young light meisters days were limited, his life running to a close faster than he could even keep track anymore. Allen felt the weakness and death seeping into his weak bones, he knew his time was coming soon. It would practically be a kindness to give his death meaning. A practically invisible commoner with no worth in the world like himself should consider it an honor.
He knew this better than even the wisest man on the continent. He knew this so why did he feel so angry?
Why did he feel so angry that he and hundreds of others like him were called to the city stained with splendor and wealth that they had hoped would bring them happiness and, perhaps cure the pathogen, only to be brought to the city center to be slaughtered like mere pigs, like their were no hope for them.
Why did such fiery rage well up inside his chest till it burnt his rib cage, till it felt as though he would die if he kept it in a moment longer? Why did he contrast himself from the beginning of the year to him now at the end of it only to see his pathetic, unhealthy and miserable he had become?
He remembered smiling at the birds that would sing every morning like it were the first time he heard them. He remembered laughing at golden and diamond white koi as they frantically through themselves out of the water to get the bread he had thrown into their funny little mouths. He remembered crying out of joy, of all things when he caught sight of the beautiful multi colored and hand made candles strung up all over the city when annual holidays would come around.
When Allen compared himself to that weak, soft hearted, bright eyed child who found his contentment just beyond the peaks of Nim all those years ago, he could not help but laugh a bitter laugh that, rather than cheering him up, felt like acid in his lungs.
He laughed so miserably because it hurt. It was because, after being starved, beaten with metal rods when he misbehaved till he passed out, traumatized till he could hardly sleep at night, crippled, and treated crueler than he had ever been treated before, that happy little boy was hardly even recognizable. All that was left of him was a dried and broken husk, his feeling and love for nature and those around him squeezed out of him like one might squeeze bitter juice from a lemon.
When the shock had faded from his body, when the blood began to run steadily through his exhausted veins and when Mahoja, the nurse that was supposed to care for him and the only person who showed him kindness in these wretched days informed him of that bitter truth, he was moved to his current cell.
The silence and serene air of his original spacious dungeon had been discarded and traded for a small and empty little house with smooth walls and a thin but shingled roof overhead to keep the rain out; Just one of many cubicles that housed so many meisters just like him.
They were stuffy. The smelled like gasoline which made Allen long for the sweet and clean mountain air he once indulged in on his journey to get to this wretched place. Every night, the deafening sound of metal grinding together as machinery worked endlessly for some unknown purpose made it nearly impossible to sleep. The fear and anticipation of a sudden loud sound made him an insomniac just in time for the innocent woman in the cell beside him to get beaten to death.
In the very front of his cell was a large door made from the same smooth material as the walls. In the very center was a small round peephole not even large enough for him to stick his pinky finger into. He'd look through it sometimes as there was nothing else to do only to see an ashen gray valley of dead grass and stormy skies. He wanted to know why the grass was dead even though it rained so much but he had neither voice to void the question nor someone to hear it.
The smooth grey door was always locked and, to his knowledge, only Mahoja and the guards had the key to open it. It was only opened for tree occasions;
The first occasion was daily. It was when a prison guard would open the door, sharp blade in hand to keep Allen from escaping, and set a large bowl full of a sticky white clay and another with rather unclean water. The first day, Allen had no idea what he was supposed to do with it but after starving far too long, he soon realize that he was supposed to drink the water and the large amount of white coat was his food for that day.
That was not what he wanted as the white clay was disgusted and tasted like ashes but it was filling enough to keep him from dying if he managed not to choke on the dry and revolting substance. It was on days like these that he missed the delicious dishes from multiple different cultures he tasted on his journeys but even the red dirt from the city of Nol seemed delectable at this point. To this day he still had no idea what it truly was.
Allen was very sure the water was drugged with something that kept his pathogen from being all that active. He always felt very sluggish and sleepless after he drank the water and he didn't like it at all.
The second occasion was also daily but no details are required since it was a mere bathroom break. A guard simply came in and escorted him out of his cell at threat of a knife blade to a black house. It was disgusting and unsanitary.
One wrong move would make the seemingly twitchy guards electrocute someone. It smelled of death because on quite a few occasions, the guards would electrocute a meister to death and they would leave the corpse to rot there in its own excrements.
Allen had been electrocuted quite hard before simply because he slipped on what he wished was mud and the guards were, as usual, quite jumpy. He would come to consciousness in his cell a few hours later with a heavy headache, a swollen tongue and a difficulty remembering who he was exactly.
The third occasion was weekly. It was bath time. It should have been the best time of all as the meisters enjoyed a good twenty minutes of soaking themselves in the clean water of the showers but it it was anything but enjoyable.
Ten meisters went into a group shower at a time with guards standing at the doorways to watch them undress and shower, be the group of meisters male or female. The water was filthy and very cold. There was no soap or towels.
Sometimes the groups of meisters had boys and girls and they saw each other naked. It bothered Allen when this happened because after the shower, the men would always give the women odd and almost predatory looks. The young light meister thought it a bit unnerving and tried to pay as little attention to it as possible.
The reason why the weekly showers were so unenjoyable was because the gourds who watched them were equally as jumpy as those from the bathroom breaks and the showers were filled with water. In cases like these, guards would electrocute the prisoners who they thought got were misbehaving but in turn, the electricity would stop the hearts of every other meister in the shower and even the guards themselves. Allen had never seen one personally but he had watched almost robotic replacement guards remove the still steaming bodies of ten meisters and two suicidal guards from the showers.
It was on days like those that Allen had grave difficulty eating anything. Luckily, a rush of hunger always chased away the images just long enough for him to finish his platter of food. Once he was finished, his food and water was gone and all that was left was his disgust for himself.
So the bath times were more than any other occasion. Everyone who participated was fearful they and all the innocent people with them would lose their lives for no reason at all. It would be a meaningless and pathetic death, something Mahoja had convinced him to fear most of all.
Those were the three and only final occurrences occurrences that filled Allen's final days. Aside from the random beatings, that was it.
Though frightening, though every day he was afraid, it was agonizingly boring.
Perhaps it truly was his selfish and silly weakness as a mere child that the silence, the lack of excitement, the lack of friendly company he held dear and the complete lack of lively and bright hope he could see in the foreseeable future caused him so much misery. He could feel damage being inflicted upon his very mind because of the mere boredom and it made him feel so pathetic.
So pathetic, he thought he might puke.
The state he was in made him feel so ill because he knew it was why he was here to begin with and the dormouse he hired last year, Lavi was not coming to save him and thousands of other innocents from their imminent demise by the hands of a monster who wore a man's face; A monster who, for reasons unknown was so very familiar to Allen. It was like he had an instructive fear of the wizard of oz, like he had seen his sort of evil once before, a long long long time ago.
The cruel slaughter of innocent meisters and themselves should not he caused him so much grief. According to the nurse called Mahoja, it was alright to kill them all because they were already dying of a disease but Allen always found that explanation funny. Yes, meisters die prematurely because of their pathogen but every human being on earth dies eventually so, according to that logic, the murder of thousands of healthy individuals is perfectly justified because they all die eventually. That would never be logical to Allen.
He was a firm believer in a concrete right and wrong and that belief would not be shattered so easily. His concentration and understanding might fade like ashes blown away in the wind, basic things like exhaustion or hunger may disappear, but surely something so vital to all that made him him like his morals would last the longest, even as his spirit was destroyed in this terrible place.
Sometimes he would wonder if the things he saw and the melodies he heard were real. He wondered if the shocked had never faded and the hysteria that plagued him was just a hallucination created from his fevered mind. Allen would see things he knew could never be real; he saw angels in the sky, demons just around the corner, the face of his father he hardly remembered, the lullaby of a mother he never met in the wind and he saw a bit of Crimson red in the ashen grey valleys just beyond his door and he wondered if his dear friend had finally come to save him from this wretched place.
He waited for hours till a dreamless and restless sleep stole those hours. None of the things he saw came to save him.
He felt it in his blood, in his bones, in his flesh, in his spirit. He was completely and utterly alone here. When he cried, there would be no one to help him. When he bled, there would be no one to heal the child's wounds.
It was because he knew he was alone that he did exactly what he was told. He was to scared, too cowardly to dare do otherwise.
Allen, the young light meister, did not save the poor people he knew needed help because he was too frightened of the evil that surrounded him.
He had truly become quite pathetic now.
It was a sickening sight to witness innocence degrade to this state.
In the silent little cell the boy was trapped in day after day after day, Allen began to think, hoping his thoughts would keep him company at least, hoping the insanity and cold sweats that came with it would be kept at bay at least.
Uncountable fresh hours plucked straight from sleepless were spent in his thought because he truly had nothing else to do.
He recounted silly and meaningless conversations he had with complete strangers and Lavi and repeated them in his head word for word, over and over just to hear his friend's voice as much as possible. Unfortunately, the more he did that, the more he forgot his friends voice and the memories were replaced with Allen's own voice. He didn't dare recollect any of it after that.
After that, picturing the most beautiful images he had ever seen seemed alluring. He'd lay on his side, press one ear against the cold floor and close the other with his hand. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could and then he pictured it, beautiful golden sunlight peeking out over the edge of silhouetted mountains, vibrant violet geysers shooting into a midday sky, mountains of delicious food given to him by a kind woman and her husband, everything. It gave him peace for a short while, he didn't know how long and, for a few moments, he forgot about where he was.
But soon the boy found that the illusions he surrounded himself with for comfort began to fade and crumble one by one. The images he tried to picture so clearly were unclear and blurred like a distant image being reflected upon a hectic water's surface.
He couldn't turn to his memories for strength. He could hardly even remember what they were when all he saw was a faint white stain upon an unredeemable canvas of grey.
He couldn't see anything before now, no matter how hard he tried.
A hundred times, he'd go over the events that occurred in his life, just so he could recall the timeline, just so that he wouldn't forget what it was that brought him here, what it was that made him continue on this path and what was that changed him just at the end.
He thought about Lavi, the dormouse he summoned all his curious to hire that one faithful day and the dear friend he kept with him all those days that followed after. He thought long and hard about the face of his father and the few memories he had of the man.
He thought about how he started this journey for that man's sake, thinking his father the only person on the continent who held his stupid self of any value, the only family he had or would ever have.
Allen, just a mere child of thirteen than who knew nothing of the world because he had never been taught brought himself to Wonderland and he blamed everyone including that man he called his father. He was lured to this wretched land of misery by the sickly sweet shimmer of hope that he might find the only person who ever loved him upon its gold paved roads.
His father had told him to come here. Even in that foggy little memory, he remembered that vividly.
He told him to go to this awful place just to die.
Why. That was all he thought anymore. He just wanted to know why.
In his pure heart, he was willing to forgive his father for this. Perhaps he didn't know, he thought, perhaps he had a good and wise reason. Perhaps it was to teach him something important, perhaps he had been bad and needed to be punished.
Something. Any reason to explain this cruelty, this absolutely inhumanity and why he had been tricked to suffer under it. Anything.
He remained such a child in his mind, he knew this as he still wanted to cling to the belief that his father was watching out for him.
The wiser and more callused part of him knew that he had been abandoned here. The better part of him knew that his father had died many years ago and that, having his mission completed, Lavi would not come save him and he would return to the peaks of Nim.
He only chose to believe otherwise because he had nothing else to hang onto. Without those two people, his life was worthless and without meaning. It was all that was left and he needed it to keep holding on, to stay strong even though all he wanted was death.
Was it so wrong to cling to hope? To love? Was it so selfish for him to long for the joy and beauty that a good life could bring?
Was that his sin? Was that what had brought him to this hell?
The only thing he could feel anymore after the cold seeped into his weak and brittle bones was betrayal. It was a terrible pain no potion or remedy could ever heal.
His father smiled so kindly and Lavi treated him so well but he was too young, too naive, too stupid, to selfish to see that it was all just a lie, a nightmare in a sweet dreams disguise he brought upon himself. He hadn't deserved kindness or love, he knew he was worthless, never doing a thing in his life to deserve something like love but surely he had never done anything to deserve this.
The ground felt cold against his cheek, despite having lied there for many hours. He hardly even had any body heat left to warm himself. He was growing colder and colder as the days passed and he knew. He knew he did not have much more time upon this earth.
He knew this land of sin and cruelty would be his grave.
All that was debatable was how that would happen.
Would he truly be sacrificed to the dark star like nothing more than an animal? Would his time run out before that time? Would the cruelty of the people who ran this place get him first?
He didn't know. He could never know.
All that he had left was to wait for it in whatever form it should take and wonder what had went wrong.
What could he have done to change it?
Finally, alas his heavy thoughts sank him under the waters of slumber. His tear streaked cheeks dried for a few short hours and his heart was relieved to hide from these current tribulations under the blanket of a dreamless sleep.
The last thing he thought before sleep claimed him was that he wished he never came here.
He wished the grass ogre from several countries over had taken his life when it had the chance.
He wished that terrible man back at hotel had beaten him to death just as he had that poor innocent fire meister woman.
He should never have read those stories about heroes and their grand adventures.
He should never have gathered all his courage to hire the friendly dormouse sitting all alone at the city gates.
He should never have treasured that letter from Wonderland or did as it ordered.
He should never have wanted a father so very badly like a small weak minded child.
He wished his eyes had never beheld such beauty, his ears heard such sweet music, his lips eaten such delicious food, his heart held such wonderful emotions of love and joy if to be deprived of these things felt as though the oxygen had been stolen from his lungs.
But more than anything, more than all these things, he wished his mother, whoever she was, had never birthed him. He wished he had never been born into this wretched and deceptive world.
But for now, the boy who would soon free the people of Wonderland, slept, never knowing what was to be his destiny.
In a dreamless sleep like this, the boy known as Allen, his thoughts, his memories, his feelings, his desires, his hopes, his entire identity seemed to cease to exist like a flame blown out, a light once so bright snuffed out without a trace.
He should have been scared, the fear should have been instinctive. It was almost against human nature to not flee at the mere idea of total elimination, at the idea of death itself and yet Allen just couldn't feel anything but peace;
A warm and welcoming peace like he hadn't felt in a long while.
The boy, being just a mere boy, hadn't realized before but living, though beautiful and so very terrible at times, was unbearably hard.
He had known for a while now but he did not think he was quite cut out for a task so difficult. He felt like a he was four years old again, watching his father slay an impossibly tall beast. Allen knew that, no matter how hard he worked or how smart he was, he could never slay such beasts. He had never been and would never be brave enough.
He had been fated to die too soon to ever truly be of use and what little time he had left he spent living comfortably in ignorance and stupidity. He was a useless child.
Perhaps that's why he was alone now. Perhaps that's why everyone he had ever known and loved had betrayed him.
Perhaps he truly did deserve this.
Perhaps dying would be easier.
Perhaps being snuffed out would not be so bad.
Perhaps that's why death did not scare him.
Perhaps he did not hate those who betrayed him.
Perhaps he would still run back if they let him.
Perhaps he wished those days of adventure would never end.
Perhaps, just perhaps Allen would prefer to feel nothing in this still abyss than be so deprived of joy here and now.
Perhaps he was just that selfish.
Perhaps he was just that childish.
Perhaps.
A sound.
At the slightest noise, Allen was awoke but he felt far too sluggish, far too cold, far too weak to actually rise from his prison floor.
He wanted to fall back to sleep. He wanted just a few more treasured moments of rest so that he didn't have to hurt his head thinking so hard.
Yet, despite all his efforts to mentally block out the sound, the sound, a pained almost human whine persisted.
Dull, high pitched, familiar.
He felt a faint breeze, a rustling of his hair like a small child running his fingers through it in attempts to awaken him truly.
For reasons he did not know, the world had grown colder than his cell. It was not this way when he first arrived.
Someone had opened the cell door.
It had happened so many times before and yet it still caught him off guard like he had never interacted with people before.
It was like he had been reset, like without those few special people, he was nothing.
With what little strength he had, he dared to crack open his eyelids.
There was very little light. These days, the world seemed to dim. These days Allen could hardly tell the night from the day. It was like something large was eclipsing the sun, like a great sadow had gone over the city.
It was either a grand eclipse on a mass scale or Allen was slowly going blind.
Allen was never quite sure what the make of it.
It the darkness, however, he was still able to make out shapes.
The silhouette of a man stood in the doorway, the sort that guarded this prison and tortured his inmates. The sort of living corpse that haunted his every waking hour, seemingly only living from the energy the light meisters released.
"It's time." Said the man, his voice low, almost inhumanly so, "The day has arrived."
A few seconds followed as Allen's weak and ill mind processed what he heard, his eyelids fluttering lightly to see the man's face, perhaps.
"...Time…" He thought, "The…..Sacrifice….?'
Several seconds of silence followed and the man simply repeated himself, using the same monotone voice like his words were some kind of recording.
"It's time. The day has arrived."
Allen was on the verge of falling unconscious yet again.
He had yet to point out whether or not this was merciful reality, a cruel dream or just a truly vivid hallucination. He supposed he could never tell with the way he had been so he stared on with hardly an ounce of strength left in his body.
If it was truly the day of the famed sacrifice, the merciful death of all meisters and the day of glory for Wonderland, it meant little difference to him but he would know soon enough.
At this point in time, in this moment in the life he treasured so much, he really did not care.
Soon enough, he felt his proof in the form of a familiar wooden stick jabbing into his brittle ribs.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice he poked him like a child might poke a dead bird but it was only when he saw a sign of life that he finally barked out a command.
"Get up." He bluntly commanded, his voice probably unable to be anymore a devoid of life.
Oh.
Allen understood now.
It truly was the day of sacrifice.
Normally, the guards would come in and force him out of his cell. It was different now because the ritual required the meisters to have as few physical injuries as possible before they were slaughtered.
So it was true, then.
The boy had almost sighed in relief.
Rather than scared, he was happy the wait was finally over.
He was happy that his death would have meaning, that perhaps his father would be proud of him for doing as he was told and, perhaps he would finally find peace in death.
He was jabbed once more in the ribs, this time with more force.
"Get up." The guard commanded.
He said that and yet the guard did not understand.
Allen was not unwilling to walk to his death. He would run if he had to.
The only problem was his own body. Over the past week, an odd feverous numbness was beginning to haunt his body, growing stronger with each passing hour.
He did not think it would become much of a problem but here and now, he felt like his mind was away but his body was still asleep. He could not feel anything in his body, much less move all that well.
It was because of this that he found himself almost completely incapable of rising at the guards command.
"Get up." The man said yet again with a fifth jab to Allen's brittle ribs but Allen could not rise.
He had grown far too weak in body, spirit and will to rise.
He could hardly even conjure the desire to raise his own head off the cold prison floor.
"Get up."
Allen knew he had to rise. He had to get up and walk to wherever the rest of the sacrifices had gone, otherwise the guard who stood in the cell doorway might remove the wooden tip of his staff that he jabbed him with so many times with and electrocute him and the boy did not know if his mind could handle that torment again or ever again.
He knew this and yet his exhausted limbs would not obey him.
"Get up."
He began to grow frantic, the anticipation of the violent shock he had experienced so many times before grinding upon his nerves.
He did not want to get electrocuted again. It hurt too much.
The sure amount of times he had received that punishment was most likely the cause of his sudden paralysis to begin with.
It did not matter if the sacrifice was a paralysed vegetable, only that their body was not bruised or scratched come this glorious day they had all wished for so much.
"Get up."
He could not see and that made it worse.
He heard the sound of something being unscrewed and he just knew it was him taking of the bit of wood that kept away the shock.
He was going to do it. Allen knew it.
He just knew it.
"Get up."
He closed his eyes, accepting his fate. What few muscles that would obey him this wretched morning he used to close his eyes and squeeze them shut, anticipating the pain.
He knew it would come.
He knew it as it always would come. It was what this wretched place had taught him.
But, unfortunately, in the haze of misery he found himself trapped in, he found that he had forgotten one valuable lesson the beautiful adventures of the past had taught him.
One was not always right and the unexpected would always come, be it good or bad.
And that lesson came to him when the pain did not come and the sound of a man, presumably the guard in his doorway, gagging dryly, choking on nothing, filled his empty ears.
What?
Choking?
That had never happened before.
Nothing even mildly close to that had ever happened before.
Choking?
Had he heard that right?
And his thoughts were cut short by two loud thuds accompanied by two visual aids.
The first was the sound of the guards knees hitting the ground in full force.
The second was when the rest of the man's body followed, His face landed right in front of Allen's, bulging, panicked black eyes staring straight into his.
The mans mouth opened and closed like her were trying to say something but couldn't find the right words.
He put it together. The man could not breath.
Why couldn't he breathe?
In fear, Allen scrambled back to the best of his ability, only managing a few inches, just in time to witness what little life the man had left in his body fade away in his final moments.
His body went limp. Allen knew he was dead.
Why?
Why had he suddenly died like that?
His drowsy mind scrambled for answers but found none.
That was, of course, until he spotted another pair of feet in his doorway. These ones were different, smaller and wearing cute leather shoes.
The words he heard next were so pure, so full of emotion, they felt like the most beautiful symphony in the world.
"I'm so sorry!" A girl blurted out mournfully.
Allen thought he might cry on the spot.
She rushed forward into his cell and knelt before him. She took hold of his small shoulders with a gentle touch so warm he might have thought she was on fire, and quickly pulled him into a sitting position so that they could see each other eye to eye.
He didn't need all that to recognize her but in that moment, he sure had needed it.
If it was a dream, it was probably the best dream he had ever dreamt.
There, infront of him was none other than Chomesuke and, in that moment, he might have married her.
"Is that you, Allen?!" She cried, actually tears in her beautiful eyes, looking him up and down to make sure he hadn't been hurt, " Is it really you?!"
She had stolen everything down to the words from his mouth and the tears from his eye in that single moment.
Chomesuke.
He remembered her. That silly witch girl he had spent a few months with.
Chomesuke.
The funny girl who used to trail behind him, saying she was far to exhausted to walk another step even though they had only walked at a steady pace for a few hours.
The odd girl he knew for a short while who had not betrayed him. Not yet, anyways but he might just take what he could get.
"Chomesuke."
And not a second after the name left his lips, a mere whisper on his tongue, the girl gasped and pulled him straight into a bone crushing hug.
"It's you!" She cried into the crook of his neck, " It's really you!"
His body had grown weak in the past month and yet, as fresh tears of happiness Allen did not know he still had left sprung to his eyes, he could do anything but object.
There was something so undeniably warm about the warmth of another human being, something even the most vivid hallucinations could not conjure up and something he thought was worth clinging to with whatever life he had left.
It didn't matter how she was here or why she was here, it didn't even matter if she had come to save him from this place. All that mattered was that she was here and he didn't know how much he missed joy till he tasted it once again.
And that is why the tears wet the dry skin of his thin and sunken in cheeks.
Much to his disapproval, she pulled back, holding him at arm's distance yet again. The wretched cold almost immediately returned to his small body.
"We have to go." She hissed, her eyes wide and her pupils dilated with adrenaline, "Now."
She leaned in and placed her arm under his back and, like a mother holding her child, she lifted Allen up. Standing on her own feet with his arm around her neck for support, she let him lean on her and he went along with no protest.
The sudden motion made his world spin, he suddenly felt nauseous but he hardly minded because having someone carefully pick him up and take him from the confinements of his cell made him feel so safe.
Perhaps it was a dream.
Sometimes things were too good to be true but on others, the fact that it was true was exactly what made it good. Who was to say, really.
His weak feet drug against the dead earth, dry grass and flowers poking at his toes like little needles but in his current state, he could not feel it.
The quick speed and the swift motions Chomesuke was moving in told him that she was going somewhere quite quickly but he did not know where as his hulled lulled and bobbed in the motion like that of an infant.
"...How…." He spoke under heavy, ragged breaths. He didn't think she heard him try to speak. He thought only the wind had heard his words and that's why he had been so surprised to hear her respond.
"...I'm…... familiar with Wonderland." She spoke clearly and carefully, her voice laced with something like shame, "I knew that, if you were in Wonderland, they would take you here."
He thought about what she said. He processed the information over and over again, making sure not to miss a single hidden meaning.
Familiar? With Wonderland?
Wasn't she from Underland? How could someone from such a poor country known anything about this wretched place?
She couldn't have been living in Underland willingly, could she? Who even has that kind of wealth?
Well, he supposed it didn't matter why as she was here now and, whatever reasons she had, thank goodness for them, because she seemed to know what she was doing.
All he could hope for was that whatever she intended to do with him, it was to get him out of this place and to somewhere with nice food.
"Oh, Allen…" She whispered, "I'm so sorry…. I'm so so sorry for everything……"
"...Why….?"
Her words quickly degraded into a series of muttered apologies varying in extremities. Allen could hardly make out most of them but he could tell she was genuinely sorry.
The only problem was that he had no idea what she was apologizing for. He could not voice the opinion but, other than being tied to witchcraft somehow, she had never really wronged him.
"...Sorry?" He finished but she had not responded, seemingly too caught up in her own speech.
Chomesuke could be silly, frivolous, and quite spoiled at times. She was bratty, bossy and bothersome at others but Allen knew that in her chest beat a good and he knew this because of how guilty she felt at the smallest thing.
He'd often see her try to keep up a front but it always broke. The familiarity made him feel warm.
But it was only at this point in her ramblings that Allen's nearly deaf ears could make out a few key phrases.
"-If it weren't for him….." She scrambled from subject to subject but he heard these words quite clearly, "If it weren't for Lavi, I don't think I'd have the courage to face you again after all I've done! I-!"
There it was.
That name hit him far harder than it should have. He thought after a month of this torture, he would have gone calised in his heart, but by the way his stomach turned a bit sour at the mention of the dormouse, he guessed he was wrong.
In a single moment, he gathered a bit of his remaining strength and parroted her words.
"Lavi?" He asked, his voice rising in pitch at the last syllable.
Chomesuke noticed him raise his head and slowed her pace as she met his eyes.
There was silence for a second, like she was wondering if it would be alright to elaborate.
With his head lifted, Allen soon found himself distracted by the change in scenery. His eyes were stolen by a city cloaked in shadows.
Where he now stood was a place with much more colour from the yellow in the dead grass to the green vines lining the red brick wall.
It was a place where red brick walls several decades in age stood as railing for a ledge that hovered over many houses like a watchful being but all it served for now was an elegant picture frame for the true beauty this city had to offer.
A sea of carefully paved roads and well built houses unlike any he had ever seen before lay before him.
Once, it would have been a beautiful city paved with gold at every corner, people drunk off their own wealth dancing through the streets like they were children again.
They were spoiled, ignorant of how lucky they were and selfish but they were yet just people led astray. It was almost funny how quickly someone like the man who called himself the wizard could invade perfectly normal people's lives and pervert them this way.
Perhaps that guard Chomesuke had to do away with was a normal and good hearted person once but that was certainly not the case anymore.
There was a point all evil things came to and, in this moment, Allen was sure he was looking at that very point.
It was hideous. It was disturbing. It was all these things and yet it was all so beautiful.
With that thought in mind and his eyes locked to the horizon, Allen decided to ask his question.
"Lavi..." He asked, phrasing his whispers oh so delicately, "...Is... here?".
Silence.
His female companion did not answer his question so he was surprised when a new, familiar and terrifying voice entered the fray.
A deep, masculine voice that Allen knew full well belonged to a woman.
" M-Mistress Chomesuke?! What are you doing here?!"
Chomesuke, on instinct, pulled the boy beside her closer. She jerk her body violently around, posed to attack and when she took in the familiar face of her sisters, Anita's physician and combat instructor, she did not lower her guard.
Some ten feet away, she spotted the woman soldier Mahoja.
"L-L-Long time no see..." Chomesuke said, her voice coming out shaky and awkward in attempt to play it cool, "Mahoja..."
Though possessing no magic of her own, the woman who now eyed her with suspicion was a fierce opponent who was not to be toyed with.d
She had been unwaveringly loyal to Anita and the other imperial witches since she was a child but Chomesuke knew that when it came down to it, she would report to the wizard immediately that one of his precious imperial witches dared to defy him and save one of the Emerald City's sacrifices.
She could not let that happen
Mahoja took a step forward.
"Is that...?" She asked, her eyes firmly fixed on the pure white creature at Chomesuke's side, "Is that... Allen?"
Chomesuke took a step back and, in addition to that, raised her open hand a bit over her head, just enough to warn her off a potential spell she could cast without so much as blinking an eyelash.
"P-Please stay there."
"Mistress Chomesuke... What are you doing with that boy...?"
Leaning down and carefully propping Allen's limp body against the brick wall, she turned to face Mahoja with a second hand raised, this time the faint yellow glow of the magical symbols upon her skin, shining through the shadows.
A single circle engraved upon her wrists like precious gems shining underneath her skin.
"The harvest is plentiful." Chomesuke's hands trembled, "There are so many sacrifices, Mahoja! One less will make little difference!"
And yet Mahoja still took a step forward, almost testing her.
"Mistress." She spoke, an urgency inner voice, "You need to return that boy to the rest of them. That boy is key."
"No, I do not!"
"You don't know what it is you do, mistress Chomesuke! You need to-!"
"No!" Chomesuke screamed, squeezing her eyes shut like the words caused her pain, "For the first time, I actually know what to do, Mahoja!"
"Mistress!" Yet another step forward.
"I can't do it again, Mahoja…." Chomesuke seethed, her back scraping the brick railing, "I can't do it again…. Just let me take….. This one boy….."
Mahoja stilled and a look of pity passed over her features.
It sickened Chomesuke how, for almost a few brief moments, the woman looked like she understood but Chomesuke knew she never could understand. The woman soldier remained loyal to the wizard and his witches. It was impossible that this woman of all people could ever understand the mental torture she had endured over these past few years, thinking she was somehow wrong for feeling it.
"So…." She spoke slowly, "You will take the boy out of the city, where his premature death will be meaningless?"
"It's not our right to decide who lives or dies like that, we are not gods that we get to choose…!"
"The pathogen will spread. This is the only way to ensure-"
"Mahoja!" She spat, hatefully, stubbornly, "I can't live with myself if this boy should die by our hands! I can't let it happen!"
"Its redemption you're after, then."
Chomesuke was taken back by her words. Redemption? Was that truly it? Was that what her soul had been longing for all these years? Was that what drove her to run away?
"Listen," Mahoja began, casting a glance to Allen's half conscious form,"The only true redemption you will ever have is if you hand over that boy, and return him to the podium!"
The urgency in Mahoja's voice almost made Chomesuke waver. Why did the woman sound so sure?
Mahoja stood there with the appearance like she knew something Chomesuke didn't. The witch of space was undeniably sure the secret she was hiding was that she would report her actions to the wizard as soon as the witch's back was turned.
Despite the fact that she had been a friend to her and her sisters all these years, despite the fact that she had been nothing but kind to her, Chomesuke knew in what remained of her human heart that this was the right thing to do and if Mahoja opposed it, than she was now her enemy.
"If you only do this, I will not tell the wizard of oz."
It was what Lavi taught her this past month when they conspired to save Allen from this place and it was the way she knew to be right. No one would make this choice but herself.
"Mistress, please-!"
"No!" She screamed one final time, finally claiming the courage to step forward herself, "I will not!"
The look of understanding, friendship and kindness faded only to be replaced by a stern expression and the eyes of a wild beast.
"Then," She said, "I will have no choice to take him back myself."
She was serious, her spirit sure that what she was doing was right. Unfortunately, Chomesuke was as well.
They both began to walk towards each other, a safe distance away from Allen, to battle.
At this point, she did not hold any malice towards her family. Infact, she did her best not to think about them but what she did was not to wrong them and yet she would battle anyone to defend the new light of redemption she found.
Mahoja removed her blade glimmering in the faint light of this day and the yellow stars, symbols of power upon Chomesuke's forearms glowed all the brighter.
They were fully prepared to battle each other for what they knew to be right.
A meter apart from each other, their weapons about to clash.
That was, of course, until a dull thud echoed through the empty city.
Silence and the two beings stilled.
Both paused. It was as though it were a portrait painted in a paused moment in time.
It happened before anyone could process what had happened.
Mahoja and her blade hit the grass abruptly. Chomesuke's symbols dim.
As soon as the moment was processed, Chomesuke's head shot up and she glared to see none other than the fiery red hair of a familiar friend in the shadows.
His wide green eye was wide with adrenaline as he lowered the iron hammer he had just used to knock out the woman soldier with a swift blow to the back of the head.
"Lavi?!" She cried, approached the young man before her, "What the hell was that?!"
With his weapon lowered and his composer returned, the young man looking as healthy as ever, he greeted her with a warm and lively smile.
"I'm sorry!" He declared, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, "I just didn't think we had time for some random cat fight."
"This is so anticlimactic! I had it under control!"
"Really? It looked like it was about to spiral out of control."
"Dang it!" She screeched as she yanked at the ends of her auburn hair in irritation, "Why are you here?! I thought you were going to clear out the guards?!"
He slung the hammer over his shoulder in one swift motion, "And I did. Just now."
She sighed and placed her hands on her hips and sighed heavily.
"So you cleared the path to the city gate?"
"Yep."
"And you weren't seen?"
"You bet."
She looked exasperated that her moment to shine had been tarnished so but on the inside, she was actually quite impressed that a boy like this, a mere human, was able to pull off so much so quickly.
But, unfortunately, in her shame, she refused to admit this.
"So," He spoke up suddenly, his expression turning serious, "Did you fulfill your part of the plan?"
She scoffed as she stepped out of the so that the pure white form of Allen came into view. Before she could say anything, Lavi was already making his way towards the boy.
"Of course I did. I'm not that useless."
"Some might say otherwise."
"Hey!"
She jerked around just in time to see Lavi drop his hammer and kneel down at Allen's feet, his expression serious, angry and downright mournful at the state of his dear friend.
He dropped to his knees, his whispered name slipping from his lips as he reached out, seized the boy's shoulders and pulled him into a tight bone crushing hug. It was familiar, sweet but more than that, it was warm.
It was different from Chomesuke. More understanding, more adored.
It was something Allen knew well and the embrace had snapped him out of his half conscious state. His eyes gained some light and his mind cleared.
"...La….vi……?"
It was only when Allen muttered his name that Lavi pulled back.
"Yah…" He said with a weak smile, "It's me, little buddy…."
"...La...vi…." He said again, his half blind eyes blinking repeatedly in hopes to blink out whatever was making him see this illusion, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing, "Is….Here….?"
"Yep!"He said with a smile as his hand met the young boys cold pale cheek, "Of course I am! I came back for you!"
"...Why..?"
Allen's pale violet eyes met his for one brief moment, but instead of joy, his expression was overtaken with unbearable pain, tears springing to his eyes.
"Why…" He said through sudden ragged breaths, almost panicking, "Why…. come….? Why…..Leave me…...here….."
Regret pooled in Lavi's heart. He saw the burns and bruises on the boy's arms, legs and face. He saw how weak he had become and he knew what that implied.
He saw it all and he despised it. He despised the people who did this and he despised himself that he couldn't have gotten here sooner to prevent all this pain from happening to begin with.
"It….hurts..." Allen sobbed, thick tears falling down his cheeks, "Hurt…. So much…."
"I'm….I'm sorry…." He said as his gaze fell and he lowered his eyes, "It's my fault. I should never have taken you to this place. I should never have let this happen….. But….."
He took hold of Allen's frail hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"But I'll make it right, I promise…." He said, genuine honesty and fire in his eyes, "Just please…...Please find it in your heart to forgive me…And remember me in a good light….."
A silence.
Allens eyes suddenly when wide in realization.
"...Wha….?"
Lavi suddenly pulled him forward and pressed his lips against his forehead.
"Goodbye," He whispered, "Allen….."
He then stood up and backed away, leaving the poor boy to reach for the fading image of a friend he could no longer see or hear.
"...Lavi….!" He cried out helplessly like a very small child, "...La….vi….no…!"
As he backed away, Chomesuke immediately seized his attention.
"Goodbye?!" She blurted, "What do you mean?! You are coming with us, Lavi!"
He shook his head sorrowfully, "I can't, Chomesuke. I've got to make things right."
"And how are you going to do that, exactly?"
A moment of silence as he looked her straight in the eyes, goosebumps covering her arms.
"I'm going to stop the wizard's sacrifice."
"No!" Her reaction was a reflex, immediate rejection of the mere concept, "Out of the question, Lavi! That's suicide!"
"I know."
"If you know, then why?!"
"Because someone has to!" He declared, "It was me and people like me who brought the meisters here. It's our fault and I'm willing to pay the price."
"Even…." She muttered, "Even if it costs you your life?"
She was upset. Lavi saw this and his face softened, "Even if it costs me my life…."
He then stepped in front of her and began to speak to her not as a lowly witch, or monster or even a complete stranger, but as an equal.
"Listen, Chomesuke. I know I treated horribly but I need you to fulfill my final request." He spoke with urgency, the sort that Chomesuke never liked to hear and yet she listened, "I need you to go, to take Allen out of the city and take him as far away from here as possible. I need you to hide if you have to so that the wizard will never find you and Allen again. I need you to never look back to this accursed place again, understand?"
"I…" She spoke almost against her own will, I understand, but-"
"But more than anything," He spoke softly, with a glance cast towards the boy, "I need you to make sure his remaining days are not spent in misery…"
"How…. How can I….."
"Please, Chomesuke! Can you do this for me?!"
And for the first time, Lavi saw Chomesuke cry.
It wasn't too much, just a single tear shed for his sake but the guilt still welled up inside him.
"Of course I will…." She smiled to the best of her ability, "Idiot…."
The tension eased between them as Lavi smiled as well.
He walked forward and embraced the girl warmly.
"Thank you." He whispered in her ear.
"It's nothing," She smiled through the tears, not wanting this to be goodbye, "This is what friends are supposed to do, right…?"
The embrace tightened.
"Of course."
And with that, he let go of her and rushed away, doing his best to block out his friends words in protest.
"...Lavi…. No, please….. Don't….. Don't go…."
He would close his ears if he had to because he would not let himself falter.
Chomesuke watched his form disappear over the hill and only then did she go to Allen and begin to take him away from the scene as quickly as possible.
It broke her heart how the boy reached out and struggled almost violently in her arms, but she kept going, knowing that she had to fulfil his final request.
"...No…..Lavi….e back…."
(Ho hoho…. Hohoho…… Hohohohoho…….. The next chapter should be the last…)