What makes you a man?

[Michi]

The Great War ended the only way it could. There was no one left to fight, everyone had lost. ity after city, country after country, fell into ruin. Leaving only a few habitable....

 

[cellar.]

As the sun began to dip gold against the horizon, River slid down the length of the ladder, and walked a little distance away to admire his work. His eyes travelled from the newly finished roof, and down to the details of the rest of the house. Three cans of blue paint were stacked before the front door, and a wooden ladder was propped up the side of the house. In the garden, a shovel was left stuck in the dirt; the rows of petunias were half-planted in the soil. The brick-red shutters were peeling with age, and the rusted pipes that ran along the walls were of the same colour. House number eight on Abbey road now belonged to a young couple, of which the previous occupant’s tastes did not suit.


On the first day of the job, River had seen them both. She was a pretty girl with long red hair, and a sprinkle of freckles across her face. He was equally as handsome, standing tall with very dark and deep eyes. The two of them were both older than he was, but they seemed to seep a sort of youth and energy – it was in the way they smiled at each other, River knew.


He couldn’t fathom why they had chosen a rickety house like this one.


So he imagined them as star-crossed lovers of some sort. Perhaps the two families both owned competing grocery stores down at the village, and they had a hundred-year feud, stemming over a box of bad tomatoes and one drink too many. Yet by chance, the lady and the gentlemen of the families had fallen in love despite their history. As a result, they had fled from their ancestral ties together, and decided to live here.


Number Eight, Abbey Road: a place that was half-secluded behind a cluster of pines, formerly owned by a grouchy hermit.


River Atlas liked to make up back-stories for the people who lived under the roofs he thatched.


Indeed, he was

that

breed of person.


A short while later, River was packing up his tools into the basket that was strapped to the back of his bicycle. He peeled off his gloves, and dusted the wheat straw off his clothes. Then, without much of a backwards glance, he hopped on and began pedaling down the dirt-path road. River rode in a little deeper into the forested edges of town, until he could see the formidable, yet familiar gray wall. In the strangest of ways, it was comforting to know that the recognizable structure was there to guide him along. Biking along the edges of it, he took the makeshift trail to go back to his house.

 

[Michi]

The familiar road was endless. Surrounded by grass on both sides, empty of all life on it except for at the ends. A single road that passed each area of the city, with only the wall to keep the driver company. Life was repetitive for Noan. Well really, it was repetitive for all of them, it was just that Noan didn't like that. He didn't like the mundane life that he was living. He wanted to do more, to see more.


His eyes turned to focus on the wall that accompanied him on his journey through the districts. He just wanted one look at the other side. Was the world really as they said it was? Destitute and destroyed. Back in school, they hadn't taught much about the past. Only fragments, saying that a lot of the earth's history was too violent and to get rid of the negative traces of the past, they needed to be forgotten.


But he remembered hearing about all the different people. That there had been people all across the world, with different dialects and cultures. Back when people were different, with different lives. Different histories. But they couldn't stay that way, the differences were what caused the wars. Always bringing the world to times of hardship and destruction.


That was why now everyone was the same. They all went to the same schools, lived in the same houses, celebrated the same holidays, had the same days off. Even with different jobs and different levels of wealth, everything was still the same. Because they were all surrounded by the same wall for their own protection.


The wall that accompanied him on his afternoon rounds dropping off food to the different districts. The same wall that taunted his curiosity. He was going to see what was beyond that wall one day. That was why he was applying for a job change. One of the caretakers of the wall. They got to see what was on the otherside. He wanted to be one of them more than anything. And see a real sunset, not the red above the wall or the pictures in children's books. He wanted to see the real thing.

 

[cellar.]

The wall was something that had a veil of secrecy thrown over it. However, it was hard to conceal, simply due to the sheer size of the thing, it’s ever foreboding presence, and the natural curiosity of humans. Of course, many people seemed to know what lay beyond the tower of concrete, but they sure as hell didn’t want to tell him. Every question he asked about it was evaded with rather

extraordinary

dexterity in River’s opinion. The number of times and ways that people managed to subtly skirt over the question was too much to count on one hand.


He didn’t know their reasons, he only knew his – he just

needed

to know.


Slowing his pedaling a little bit, he reached his hand out to run his fingers along the length of the wall. He could feel the small cracks that had began to form over time, and he wondered how much longer it would stand. How long would he have to wait, until it crumbled down to nothing? How long until he could know? River pulled away his hand, his fingers coming back raw and pink from the coarse texture of the wall. With something of a resigned sigh, he resumed pedaling with more speed, rushing through the rest of his path to home.


The breeze was cool in the dying light of day.


He loaded his bike up in the shed with the rest of the tools, and headed back towards the house. Unlocking the door, he was greeted by a loud bark and a few heavy footsteps. Before River had a proper time to react, he was met with a few slobbery kisses and an embrace that nearly left him

concussed

on the floor. His dog, Pan, was pretty darn huge – A miniature bear maybe. Still, it was more to love and to play with, so River couldn’t complain much about being hug-attacked almost every day.


After a few more licks, Pan dropped from his hind legs, ending the balancing act that they had both been performing. Tired, River headed over to the couch, dropping himself into the seat. Less than a second later, Pan joined him, snuggling up with his head on his lap. He was not in the mood, but he couldn't refuse either, and after some debate, he began giving Pan a good stratch-down anyways.


“If you knew, you’d tell me right?” River wondered out loud, looking down at the mat of fur.


Although he received no response, he was sure that Pan would’ve said yes.


There was only one thing to conclude, and that was that dogs made better friends than people.

 

[Michi]

As he finished his final delivery, Noan waved to the base where he dropped off the food. Climbing back into his truck he started it up and headed back down the road. As he reached the fork, he turned right instead of left. He wasn't in any particular hurry to get home, and he wanted to see if there was possibly and holes or cracks he could see through. He knew it was highly unlikely, they kept such good care of that wall you'd think it was the heart of the community. Which it quite possibly was. It was after all the great wall that kept them safe. Everything was great in this community. The great wall, the great war, their great community. He kinda wondered what exactly about all of them made them so great.


Watching the wall pass quickly beside the truck, as perfect as it's always been. So tall the only thing he could see near the top was sky. Sky that ended at the wall. When he did get home it was to a small apartment. The neighborhood wasn't bad. There really was no 'bad' area inside the wall. But he wasn't in the swanky area he'd once lived in. Having a politician for a father he'd had one of the nice houses up in the center. With nearly a view over the wall but not enough to really see anything. But when he decided to try to get a job as a wall caretaker, rather than following in his father's footsteps like everyone had expected him to, things had just gone wrong.


He hadn't passed the tests for the job, he wasn't strong enough. Or he hadn't passed the psychological portion. It sucked, that was really the one job he wanted. But doing that had put him out of his family's home. He'd missed the window of opportunity to follow in the safety of his family's footsteps. He'd been lucky to get this job as a delivery driver. He didn't make much. Enough to cover the costs of living, and sometimes he had a little extra money at the end of the month where he could buy something he wanted, or go drinking with his friends if they had time.


Walking into the small, but clean apartment, he made a small dinner. Sat down and watched a bit of some random show he never paid attention to as he ate. After he ate he took a shower, and went back to watching tv. When the sun began to set behind the wall and the sky turned dark, he turned off the tv, and the lights and made his way to the bedroom. Climbing in bed he stared at the ceiling, his mind wandered about nothing in particular. Finally after what seemed like hours but was probably closer to 30 minutes, his eyes closed and he drifted into unconsciousness. And the cycle of his day to day life started over.

 

[cellar.]

Lying flat on his back, his hands were tucked neatly behind his head, cushioning him slightly from the grassy ground. The sky above him was coloured like cotton candy, the great puffs of clouds floating by – looking all soft and sweet enough to eat. Yet, despite the loveliness displayed out before his eyes, the sounds in his ears were skipping and lagging into a different tone. He could hear the crash of voices playing out like a distorted symphony in the background; the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood were accompanying the fight.




They were arguing quite fiercely, and so he dared not to sit up and look over his shoulder.




If could stare at the haze of blue long enough, he could surely forget that he was grounded to this earth.




And maybe then, he could forget about everything else too.


He woke up to the prodding of Pan, who was weaving through his limbs like some sort of jungle gym. A second later, River could feel something warm on his face, and instinctively, he pushed Pan’s face away from his own. Undeterred, his dog continued to drag all the blankets away to the bottom on the bed. He was persistent, that was for sure. River tried to pull them back up, but it ended in a tug-o-war that he lost.


“Okay, okay, okay,” He murmured sleepily. But it took a couple of more well-timed pushes for him to be up and going.


Groggily, River shuffled into the living room and laid out the food and water for Pan, before stumbling his way back into the bathroom. Each step was marked with a yawn, and he didn’t have to check the time to know that he hadn’t slept enough. Still, he showered and brushed his teeth, getting ready to go out on a walk. He got dressed, pulling on a sweater to ward off the morning frost. Finally, he went downstairs, slipped on his shoes, and grabbed the leash. It was the routine that had fallen into place all on its own.


He called Pan over and fastened the leash on. Grabbing his house keys off the counter, away and ahead they went. As usual, the two of them strolled by the length of the wall, simply because it was the route that River knew best. Now that he wasn’t rushing along on his bike, he had the time to pause and examine the structure. It had always been there for as long as he could remember – which wasn’t much, seeing as he had ten years worth of blank pages in his head. However, he had to wonder if it would always be there for the rest of his life too.


Mysteries were always extraordinarily attractive in his eyes, and this was the biggest one yet.

 

[Michi]

There was a buzzing sound. A long loud buzzing sound that just wouldn't stop. Opening his eyes he stared at the ceiling for a moment before rolling over to turn off his alarm. It was time to begin the cycle once more. Sitting up his feet slid over the side of his bed, and his fingers ran over his face and through his hair.


He stood and wobbled his way to the kitchen, to make an omelette, or what should have been an omelette. It started out as one but he wasn't very good at cooking, and basically turned into burnt scrambled eggs with unidentifiable vegetables and meats in it. He put the food on a plate and took a seat at the small table. Mmm the delicious taste of burnt. It seasoned everything he made.


After he finished eating, Noan went and changed into his clothes before going outside. It was still relatively early, but that only meant he'd be done shortly after noon with his deliveries and had the rest of the day to do whatever he wanted. Which usually meant sitting around his living room staring at the tv but not really watching anything. The fabulous life of a bachelor.


Sure enough, his deliveries were done at quarter to two. And he made his way back home. Washing his dish from this morning he dried it off and put it back in the cabinet. But rather than stay in the house, he decided it was a rather nice day. Walking around would be good for him. To get a little fresh air and some sun, and that was exactly what he did. Changing out of his delivery clothes into casual clothes he left the house. Of course the clothes weren't really that different. They all just wore different shades of gray, no one wore any real colors. Just gray and white, but the style generally told people what you were doing at that point in time. He was sure they'd gotten rid of colored clothes as a way to keep people from getting jealous of others which could cause conflict.


It was a nice day though. Sunny,bright, warm. Days that when he'd been a kid he loved because that meant it was usually summer. And that meant shorter days for school, but they still went to school every single day except saturday. It was quiet, the streets were nearly empty, normal for a Thursday afternoon. While everyone was at work, and the kids were still in school. Somehow he'd ended back by the wall. He knew that he shouldn't have been there, and wasn't sure what had brought him there this time. But like always he found himself searching for a way through.

 

[cellar.]

“Shh, I’m going to feed you in a second,” River whispered, patting down on his growling stomach. It was passed lunch time, but he had been preoccupied with storing the straw bales into the old barn behind the house. Although he wasn’t working today, there were still a number of things to do around the place. Dusting himself off, he unlocked the door, and stepped into his home. Almost immediately, he noticed the feathery blond hair that was sticking out from the couch. He paused slightly, staring at the figure that was lazing around with Pan lying across his belly.


“Cas,” River said. It was more of a statement than a question.


“Yeah brother?” the boy named Cas answered with an air of nonchalance.


For awhile, River considered asking him how he managed to get into a locked house, but the question was ultimately answered when he noticed the window that was hanging wide open. He would have to remember to close and lock those in the future.


“Hm. Are you hungry?” He said instead, walking into the kitchen to look for something to eat.


“Nah brother,” Cas said, getting up from his sprawled position, Pan following him. He hopped into the kitchen, and picked an apple out of the basket on the counter. Juggling it in his hands for a few seconds, he took a big bite. “I’m here to stage an intervention on your behalf." Another bite. "Also, I wanted to see if you were still alive.”


“Looks alive to me,” River answered as he surveyed his choices in the refrigerator. “How do you feel about pasta salad?” He pulled the cold leftovers out, grabbing some utensils and plates from the cupboard above the sink.


“Nah,” Cas replied, taking another bite of the apple. After awhile he spoke up again, “Ella thinks you’re dead.”


River walked over to the sink to wash his hands. “Well, Ella is four,” he mused.


“I think you’re dead,” Cas added, tossing the core of the apple into the trashcan. It landed with a resounding thud.


“Well, you’re an idiot,” River said, handing Cas a fork. He began to eat the pasta. It was kind of tasteless, but he was hungry enough to not care.


“Your food tastes like cardboard, brother,” Cas said, sucking on his fork. He still ate it anyways.


When they finished, River began to do the dishes. It wasn’t long before Cas reached over his shoulder, shut off the tap, and pulled on his arm. As if on command, Pan followed the action, nudging on his leg. “We’re going out, brother.”


“We’re staying in, Castor,” River said, mimicking his way of talking. But of course, this was not a fight he could win.


Barely a minute later, they were already out the door.

 

[Michi]

His fingertips trailing along the wall, just barely brushing against the concrete as Noan walked down the barely beaten trail. It was as perfect as always, not even the tiniest crevace to be found. Or at least that was what he thought. When his finger brushed over a perticularly rough spot. Pausing, he turned and looked at the wall, running his fingers over the spot. As he pulled his hand away, he rubbed his fingers together.


There was a rough grainy feeling, as bits of concrete grated his fingertips. And just like that, a spark of excitement began to grow in him. Noan ran his fingers over the spot once more, waching as just a bit more of the grainy powder fell to the ground. It was starting to happen! The wall, it was starting to crumble. He didn't even notice the smile that grew on his mouth as he began picking at the small crack. He was so entralled by the giddiness that consumed him, he didn't hear the truck that pulled up behind him.


"Touching the wall is against the rules Noan. You know this." A stern female voice rang out behind him.


Turning around Noan looked at the woman, accompanied by a few officers. Unarmed, like always. He knew who she was, everyone knew who she was. "Counselwoman Hughs. The wall, there's a crack."

 

[cellar.]

It was something of a mystery how Castor’s hair managed to defy the laws of gravity and logic all at once. Each time he strolled pass a beam of sunlight, the strands of gold turned the colour of snow. Then, at the slightest bit of wind, his hair danced on top of his head like feathers waiting for lift off. As Cas meandered down the path, River strayed a few steps behind, getting distracted on the impossibility of his blond head. Finally after a few more minutes of this prolonged staring, Castor suddenly whirled around and began walking backwards.


“Brother, what are you looking at?” Cas asked with a slightly impish smile.


“Oh…Nothing.” Very deliberately, River averted his gaze, glancing down at his feet to count the footsteps he took. He could see Pan’s paw prints and the stamp of Cas’ shoe embedded into the softened earth. A breeze rippled through the forest trees; a rain of leaves floated gently towards the ground. In response to the cool gust, River shivered slightly. It wasn’t long before he felt an arm slide around his shoulders.


“Brother, how do y’do?” Cas drawled lazily, leaning his weight against River.


“…Hm. Well, I think I do fine,” he answered, trying to shrug the other boy off of him.


They were both silent for awhile, only standing listlessly in the middle of the dirt path. River watched as Pan snapped at a bird, looking like a shadow as he chased the red puff of feathers. His eyes then wandered away, searching for another diversion for his attention to settle on. Distraction after distraction he concentrated on. It made things easier to notice the least important things.


Slowly, he felt a pair of eyes on him, and River looked to his right to see that Cas was in fact watching him intently, his blue eyes darkened by shadows. After a slight pause, Castor turned his face – his arm sliding off and his weight shifted away.


“Alright then, dear brother. Whatever you say,” he said in a sing-song voice. He was already strolling off.


“Alright then, dear Castor. Whatever you please,” River heard himself whisper.


But his voice was carried off by the wind.

 

[Michi]

The elder woman walked towards Noan. Her back straight, head held high, her expression unreadable. Taking a step away from the wall, he watched her walk past him, to inspect the wall. Watching her stare at the small crack that had begun to form, he got very nervous around the councilwoman. It wasn't so much as fear, but intimidation. No one had anything to fear in the walls. Maybe a bee sting or something, sometimes there were accidents, but the laws in place kept everyone safe.


When she did finally turn to look at him, there was a kind smile on her face. "You have done a great service for us today, Noan." And with that the intimidation was lifted. She looked much softer when she smiled. "Please come with me. I want to thank you for this."


With a nod, Noan smiled and followed her back to the truck. The officers stepped aside, as they entered the vehicle, before getting in their own truck. As the truck started to drive, the political leader made idle chit chat with him. Asking how he was doing, how his family was doing. They talked about his work, his life. In the time before the war, people would have been suspicious. But living here was not like back then. The government watched over everything. This was how they kept everyone safe. They knew all who lived inside the wall, where they were, what they did, who they talked to.


When the truck stopped he looked out the window, and recognized the area. This was on the east side of the town. While this area was known for it's food, the residential area wasn't exactly the best. Being at the bottom of the hill, when it rained and the ud slipped down, it made the buildings dirty, and the roads filled with muck. Keeping it clean was a hassle, but the ones who lived there didn't mind anyways. They were mostly farmers who spent all day in the dirt anyways.


"Come, let's eat. I want to thank you for finding the crack in the wall."


They sat outside a small but elegant shop, where the scents that flowed out the door was more enticing than the building looked. A young girl came out, she looked about twelve years old. The councilwoman ordered for the both of them, and shortly after it was brought out to them. food was delicious, some sort of pasta he'd never heard of in a cheese sauce. Sausage was sprinkled on top, and fresh rolls were brought out as well.


When the meal was over, she offered to take him home, and he accepted. But the road they took didn't lead to his house. "Where are we going?"


"We're going to make one last stop. You've always been fascinated with the wall Noan. I remember reading one of your letters as a child, asking what was beyond the wall, your innocence but wisdom was quite astounding. The childlike wonder at the possibilities that were beyond the wall were magical."


"Well... I just want to know for sure what's over there. It's been years since the war ended, it has to be getting better out there."


"It has been, slowly. Would you like to see?"


"Yes! Is that where we're stopping at?"


"Indeed. I'm going to show you what's beyond the wall."


The truck stopped near an uninhabited part of the city. There were no buildings, just fields. Fields and fields of flowers, tall grass and crops, and trees. But there was no door, no lift. How would they get out? She got out of the car, and Noan followed her. He followed her as she started walking towards the wall, his eyes looking around there had to be some sort of way out then. There was a crumbling sound, and a section of the wall started to press into the blockade. Then there was another noise, and the section that has pressed in, slid to the side. It revealed a hole large enough for a very large truck, but that wasn't what caused him to catch his breath.


Through that hole, there was the most green, and sunlight wooded area he'd ever seen. It was like a picture from a children's story. He stepped forward, pausing only to confirm with the woman that he was indeed allowed to go out there. She gave him a nod, and followed after him. There was a breeze, something they didn't usually get to fill inside the wall.


It was so bright on this side of the wall. And the wind. That was something you rarely felt inside the wall. But, this seemed perfectly safe. Why did they have to stay inside if everything on the outside was getting better?


"Curiosity's dangerous, Noan. If everyone started questioning things again, there would be war again. And the last time that happened, everything was destroyed." Councilwoman Hughs said, as Noan walked around touching everything as if he were a child in a toy store. He could understand what she meant though. If everyone asked questions about everything, it would be different, and when things were too different people got violent. There was a rumbling and screech once again and the male turned to watch the woman walking back inside, and the door shutting slowly.


"Hey wait!" He said hurrying after her.


She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, "You're a danger to our civilization Noan.... I cannot let you back in. I wish you the best of luck in your new life." She told him as she made her way to the other side of wall once more, and turned to watch the door shut. While Noan watched her, confused as to what exactly had made him a danger. All he had wanted to see was what was on the other side of the wall. It wasn't like he'd ever questioned anything, he followed the rules like everyone else. Wore the same white and gray clothes as everyone else. Living in the same areas, did the same jobs. What was so dangerous about wanting to see the other side of the wall?

 

[cellar.]

After a few more minutes of trekking through the path, they could see the trees break slightly in the distance, revealing the formidable gray wall. The huge block of cement had always looked out of place from its surroundings – jutting out uncomfortably in the center of forest and sunshine. But the unnaturalness of the site was something of a give-away that the structure couldn’t have had been there

forever

; someone would’ve had to have built it…

right?

Briefly, River had the image of the wall sprouting and growing from the grass like a tree, making concrete roots into the dirt.


“Brother?” Cas interjected, breaking the interlude of silence.


River looked over at the other boy, to see the sunlight breaking over his shoulders and hair like a ghostly halo, illuminating his features. His blue eyes were fixated on the wall, lips slightly parted, eyebrows scrunched together in the typical

Castor-esque

way that meant he was concentrated upon something swirling around in that funny head of his. Knowing well enough, River could almost see the question being formulated on the tips of his tongue. Still, he didn’t respond, merely moving his eyes away towards the floor.


It was only natural for people to pry into his life, either as curiosity or as a formality. It surely didn’t mean much to the other party, but it always made him exceptionally uncomfortable to share his personal thoughts with people that

couldn’t understand

or

didn’t really care.


Finally, River answered. “Yeah, what is it?”


There was a moment of silence, tension climaxing, and then–


“…Do y’ever wonder how people first got the idea that milking cows could be a good idea?”




'What...the...cows...?'


He burst out laughing as the realization hit him.


Trying to stifle his giggles at the absurdity of the question, River breathed a sigh of relief. He had been anticipating something much more serious, but this

was

Cas after all. He was only glad that his friend didn’t feel the need to reiterate his own history as so many had done before. For some godforsaken reason, everyone seemed to like to remind him

gosh,



what a poor boy he was

,

and that

yeah, life sucked.




But there were never any heart-in-the-mouth kind of talks with Castor – no sit-downs about a future that others

insisted

to enforce upon him, no pestering with questions about

how he felt,

and no string of looks mashed with a mix of pity and pseudo-sympathy. The unforgiving nature of memory had failed River once, opening a chasm where the first ten years of his life was supposed to be situated. Nine years later, memory came back to haunt him again…But this time, he

wanted

to forget, yet could not do so. He knew now that it was better to have nothing in the first place, than to lose everything at once.




Orson. Estella. Hadley

. Fate had a way of throwing it all in his face.


River shrugged after his laughter subsided. The ghost of a grin still played at the corners of his mouth, but the brief feeling had already crumbled away. He glanced back up at Castor again. "Huh, well I suppose I never-"


Abruptly, his words were cut off by a screeching sound coming from off the wall, and he could feel soft tremors rumbling underneath his feet. A few birds fled into the air, taking flight from whatever was the source of the noise. Slowly, he noticed Pan creep back to his side, a low growl emitting from his throat. They were all still for a few moments, waiting for something to happen. He wasn't certain if the fear showed on his face. But for a certain, River could feel his heart hammering against the cage of his chest, the apprehension rising near the point of panic.


A few minutes later, the sound filled the air again, and the floor trembled, as if also frightened by the piercing noise.



Perhaps there

was

a legitimate reason why everyone had always told him

to stay the hell away from the wall,

and perhaps he should've listened. It had always been a mystery of what lay on the other side, but River had never really considered the possibility that the mystery might've been better left unsolved, that the mystery could have

clawsandteethanddeath.

Ah damn.


Well, it was

certainly

too-fucking-late now for regrets.

 

[Michi]

What had just happened?


Confused didn't even begin to describe how the male felt at this point in time. He watched as the last of the crack closed shut once more. Leaving the wall looking untouched. No that wasn't true. On this side of the wall, it was filthy. Covered in mud, dirt, vines and surrounded by dead leaves and malnourished grass.


He didn't know how long he stared at the wall, waiting for it to reopen. He didn't know if it had only been minutes or hours. He could have checked his watch, but it didn't cross his mind. By the time it did, it was too late. He didn't remember what time they'd come to the wall.


Finally he turned and took in his surroundings. He was surrounded by trees. Lots and lots of trees. He could follow the wall, but he wouldn't find an opening. It was sealed the entire way around. Finally he just started walking. He didn't know where he was going or what he was going to do, but he couldn't just keep standing there forever. It was going to get dark soon, and he was going to get hungry and tired.


Trekking through the forest was harder than childhood stories made it seem. There were bugs, and plants, so many plants. Trees, and bushes, holes in the ground that were covered by fallen leaves. His shoes were stained terribly, and he felt as filthy as the outside of the wall had looked. Sweat trailed down his forehead and had started to cause his shirt to cling to his torso. Now he was wishing he'd worn a lighter shirt.

 

[cellar.]

“Brother?”


“Yeah, Cas?”


“Should we run?”


One part of him was ready to bolt away in the opposite direction of the noise. Yet, the other was filled with a strange sense of stubborn curiosity, urging him to step through the cluster of pine trees, off the path, and along the length of the wall. River wanted to know what had made that unearthly screech – whether it was sinister or ethereal or even just an incredibly angry bird. There was something about that

wanting

that was more important to him than safety or caution; he had never cared much for a sheltered life anyway. Involuntarily, he inched forwards, but not before he was stopped by a tug on his arm.


He felt Castor’s fingers lace around his – and instinctively he returned the gesture.


“Come on then, we’ll go see what it is,” River answered with as much certainty as he could muster at the moment. To his immense relief, his voice did not wobble or falter. He sounded steady, sure, unafraid.


He gripped Cas’ hand tighter for a second, and then let go.


Soon enough, they wandered off the makeshift path, and into denser forest. Quickly, the sky darkened – a mixture of the thicker groups of trees and the dying light of day. Both of them had their fair share of rule-breaking before, so the trek from the path to the wall had become a familiar alternative. As River maneuvered his way around the various logs and branches, he painted a map of the place in his head.




‘…There’s that dry stream there…passed three tall maples in a row…a cracked birch tree…’


There were extensive paths all outlined and stored in the coils of his brain.


It was a talent built by his like of exploring, and sometimes his need to hide away.


It only took a few minutes to reach the wall. But there was nothing there. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing seemed wrong.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

It was almost disappointing, River had half-expected something to leap out at them as he surveyed the wall, running a hand along the rough surface. Maybe it had been only the earth quaking. Maybe it had been an extraordinarily crazy-sounding bird. Perhaps they had been startled by nothing more than their imaginations.


“Well, there’s nothin’ here,” Castor said, stating the obvious.


“Hm. I guess not,” River murmured. He felt a soft nudge on his leg, and looked down to see Pan. “Let’s go then.”


With a sigh, he began walking down the same path he had taken yesterday.


“Brooooother, I’m tired,” Cas called out barely halfway through their walk back. His voice carried through the breeze.


“So am I,” River sighed, trying to pull his friend along. “You can borrow my bike if you want.”


“Yeah, but I’m tired

now

, so what good’s a bike when we get back?” he responded sulkily.


River exhaled deeply; a tired Cas was always a monster to deal with.


Suddenly, Pan barked, and simultaneously they both stopped arguing, turning to look in the direction of his call. It was not a

happy-yes-you-are-home bark

; it was not an

oh-look-a-squirrel-bark

– it was a

there-is-someone-strange-very-near

sort of bark.


Sure enough, they watched as a young man stumbled into view.

 

[Michi]

He figured heading in a straight line was the best bet, but hadn't he already passed that fallen tree branch beside that rock already? But he didn't recall making any turns. With a groan he turned around and had to fight the urge to yawn. Ugh he was hot, and a glance at his watch showed that it was in fact starting to get dark, as if the receding sunlight hadn't been enough of an indicator.


He turned back to the rock and sat on it. Part of him hoped that he would hear that loud noise from earlier once more, indicating that the wall was reopening for him to reenter. But something deep down told him that wasn't going to happen. But there was a sound. The sound of rustling in the bushes or leaves. Something was out there. He just wasn't sure what. That question didn't remain long though. As something crawled across his shoes he looked down. A snake slithered it's way past him, and he reacted the only reasonable way he could. By flinching, jumping up with a yelp and running away from that spot aimlessly, lest the serpent decide that Noan would make a very tasty dinner.


In truth it had been a rather small snake. But he'd never seen an actual one before, he'd only heard about how their venom could kill. He knew nothing of the different breeds, or any of that, just that they ate people and were dangerous. Panting, he finally stopped near a tree. His stomach was so empty that he could feel literally every movement inside it. All the stomach acid sloshing around. It was something he'd also never experienced before. He didn't like being outside the wall after all. All he really wanted was to go home, climb in his bed and go to sleep as if none of this had ever happened.


Something crawled across his hand, and when he looked up he noticed a spider making it's way down the tree. This pulled another frantic sound from him as he flailed his hand around wildly. Looking down at the ground making his way forward, Noan brushed the back of his hand off, still feeling the sensation from the arachnid's creepy legs. None of this could be real. He ha to be dreaming all of this. It was a nightmare. A nightmare that he would wake up from. That he had to wake up from. This can't be real.


His view of the ground blurred, as his hand continued to rub the back of his hand. He just wanted to go home. He heard another noise, this one louder and slightly more frightening. Was this something else that was going to eat him now? Bringing his hands up to wipe his eyes on his dirty sleeves, leaving more dirt on his face then removing it, he finally looked up once again and looked around.


His eyes stopped on two males and a small bear. But that couldn't be it. People didn't live outside the walls. Everyone outside the walls had died back in the war. He was seeing things now. Great, just freaking great. He didn't know weather to laugh, cry, or keep walking.

 

[cellar.]

It was just a man. Not a wolf, or a bear, or a monster.


River breathed a sigh of relief. He opened his mouth to speak, but wasn't sure what to say to the person who had just stumbled upon them. For a few seconds there was nothing but the sound of Pan’s continuous barking and growling echoing in the wind. That was a little bizarre, as Pan usually quieted down when it become evident that the other party meant no harm…and this guy really didn’t seem like much of a threat. River bent down, pulling lightly at the dog’s collar, until they were face to face. “Shhh…Quiet Pan,” he said, stroking him gently between his ears. The barking ceased.


“Um…” River started, now staring at the stranger – who definitely looked worse for wear upon closer inspection. The man was wearing all gray, but his clothes had been soiled by dirt...Which was

also

kind of odd, but he didn’t dwell on it much. Briefly he wondered if he and Cas were going to get yelled at for straying this close to the wall. It then took River another moment to realize that,

wait; this guy was also wandering about in the middle of the forest.

Unless some sort of astounding hypocrisy was about to go down, they were out of trouble.


Well, they had dodged a long-winded lecture at the very least.


“Ya lost or something?” Cas said, completing River’s lackluster start with an impish grin.


He slid an arm around River’s shoulders, once again leaning on him.


River shimmied his way from underneath Castor’s weight.


“Um. Yeah, you can just follow us out on to the path, if you want,” he offered.

 

[Michi]

He'd never been a very creative person. Not many of the people inside the wall had been for generations. But he was pretty sure he'd never seen either of these people before in his life, so how was he imagining them? Did his imagination just make them up, or was he just imagining someone he'd seen once but had never really noticed? What was that word for when people hallucinated in the desert? Mirage. Did that only count in the desert? Ugh, he was so confused.


Looking away he glanced around, path? He didn't see a path. His imagination was lying to him. Or maybe this was his mind trying to help him get out of here. Either way he looked at it, he'd gone crazy. Finally he gave in, he was tired of being alone, and even if the company was just a figment of his imagination it was better than accepting that he'd been abandoned out here. He turned back to the two guys and their bear and gave a small nod, before taking a step back to let them pass. He'd really lost his mind, and all it had taken was a few hours out here away from everything. Outside the wall really was dangerous.


She'd called him dangerous. Said that he was a threat to them, all because he just wanted to see what was on the other side of the wall. The goddamn wall. It was to blame for all of this. F*cking wall.

 

[cellar.]

For the longest time, the man did not respond, giving no indication that he had even heard them at all. As the silence stretched into seconds, the awkwardness of the situation began to settle in like a heavy blanket. River turned slightly towards Castor, whom he saw was wearing a bemused smile. He caught his eye, and they exchanged a look – something of confusion, mild amusement, and sheepishness. Then finally, the stranger nodded and stepped aside for them to lead the way out. Whoever this person was, he seemed awfully quiet. Perhaps he was still surprised – like they had been at the rustle of footsteps – and was worried about getting into trouble. River could understand that.


He shrugged off the uneasiness, and started walking again. "Just watch your step," he called from over his shoulder.


"Let's go Pannie," Cas softly cooed, and somewhat hesitantly, the dog followed his voice.


The hike back proved to be slightly more treacherous than it had been to get to the wall in the first place. It was growing dark already, and the last few beams of sun fractured again and again over the canopy of tree leaves, until only spots of light danced across the forest floor. After awhile of cautious maneuvering, the trees started to thin out considerably, and the ground became more leveled, less irregular. Soon enough, they had come back to the first trail they had followed. It wasn't distinctively paved, but the path had been smoothed out by the many feet that had tread across there before. It would only be a couple of more minutes before they got out onto the open road that would take them towards town.


"Brother?" Castor asked, "We almost there?" There was a whine in his voice that suggested the question was going to be asked again (and again.)


"Mhm, count back from one thousand for me, won't you?" River replied quickly, hoping to distract him."Of the things you like".


Cas clapped his hands together, laughed, and tilted his head towards the sky."A thousand

summmmer

days! Nine hundred an' ninety-nine bonfires! Nine hundred and an' ninety-eight thunderstorms! Nine..." Gradually, River tuned out his voice, the sound becoming a blur in the background.


As the lights of civilization began to creep into view, (

"three hundred an' fifty-four things coloured orange!"

) River turned to the stranger.


"We're nearly there. You think you're going to be okay now?"

 

[Michi]

As the three figures moved passed him, he followed them. They were very quiet. But at least he wasn't alone out here, entirely.


They were moving away from the wall, but once the tree line thinned he knew they were almost out. As the sun got lower and lower, he found it slightly harder to maintain his footing. He almost fell behind a couple of times, and almost actually fell quite a few times.


Finally they were free of the trees, but fatigue was setting in. He was tired, hot and thirsty. His stomach had started protesting what felt like hours ago by now, but a glance at his watch showed him it had only been an hour since the first growl of his stomach. His eyes would shift from the ground to the back of the boys heads back to the ground.


When one of them turned to look at him and speak he didn't respond. Nearly where? He could see some lights up ahead, was that a town? Did people actually live out here? That wasn't possible, no they said everyone outside had died back in the Great War.


But if there were people, did that mean those two were real? No, that couldn't be possible. Could it? He gave a shrug in acknowledgement. Where they leading him somewhere specific, or just to the town?


"Where are we going?" It wasn't like taking to them would hurt, even if they weren't real.

 

[cellar.]

By now, River was pretty tired of walking, an ache starting to creep into his legs. This little exploration with Cas hadn’t been part of the plan. He was supposed to laze around the house all day, maybe go down to the marketplace to pick up some real food, because

he was goddamn tired

of eating week-old leftovers and bread. But the sun was already melting gold and pink along the horizon, turning the sky into a swimming palette of pastels. Pretty soon, the stars were due to light up the night sky as the darkness descended with each passing minute.


He supposed that he could eat a sandwich for dinner…again. The thought wasn’t very welcoming, and he let out a sigh.




"Where are we going?"


Their tag-along buddy was speaking for the first time, and River turned to look at him in slight surprise. He raised an eyebrow at the man’s question, wondering if it wasn’t already obvious enough that they were heading back into town. Where else would they be going at this time of the day?


“Um. Well, I’m going home,” River answered. He glanced over at Castor who was still yelling out numbers at the twilight sky. Despite whatever boundless energy he had to keep the countdown going, it wasn't hard to tell that he was also tired...and bored. “...And I think Cas will too.”


But maybe they had been wrong about the man. Maybe he didn’t live in the town, but in one of the secluded houses that were scattered along the forest line – like Number Eight, Abbey Road (Oh yes, those star-crossed lovers with a fascinating – yet

very much

false history he had spun out of boredom.) River had just assumed…Well it would’ve been helpful if he had piped up about it earlier.


“Oh sorry…” River mumbled, “...But you know how to get back home, right?”


Even if the guy was lost, he couldn’t be

that

lost, could he?

 

[Michi]

He found his gaze going back to the wall. "There's another way back?" He found himself asking. It was pathetic, he was a grown man and he was lost a because he had been left outside the wall. He knew very well there was no other way in. But he found a small spark of hope flickering inside his mind. A small part of him thought this was all some bad dream. But the pain in his legs reminded him that he was completely awake.


Turning back to stare at the back of the two men in front of him he looked down at his feet. His shoes no longer looked even remotely white, the color they had started. The town was starting to get closer, he could make out buildings and see the silhouette of people moving about. Was that a mirage too? Probably not, which meant maybe they're real too.


It was only then that he realized the clothes they wore had colors. Colors he'd never seen on clothes before. They didn't wear the grey and whites that himself and the others inside the wall had worn. He found himself moving along a bit faster, his hand reaching out absentmindedly. He wanted to touch them and see if the were real. Not the males, but the clothes. They were slightly dirty but he just had to know how those colors felt.


He caught himself, lowering his hand, realizing that was unusual. He wasn't a danger, but still touching strangers was still an awkward thing to try to explain. If they were real, how would he explain that he wanted to touch the colors of their clothing. See if they felt different than the white he always wore.


As they reached the town he continued to follow the male who had told him he could follow him. How long was he supposed to follow him? He hadn't said. Well he had said they were going home. Or, rather, that he was going home. And Noan was following him, because where else would he go?

 

[cellar.]

"There's another way back?"


“Hmm?” River replied, confused by the question.

Another way back…where?

Not sure how to answer, he shrugged it off and continued to walk towards the town. They would soon be rid of this bizarre person anyway. Truth to be told, he had never met someone quite so strange. Cas was one kind of thing – weird most definitely, but all in all,

very sane

and

sentient

and

real.

This guy on the other hand…He appeared to be normal and sounded normal, and yet he was another kind of strange altogether.


Gradually, paved asphalt roads grew from the dirt tracks, and houses sprouted amongst the trees. The further they walked in, the buildings and structures appeared, replacing the remainder of the forest. There were people now too, adults sitting on front porches chatting as their children played on the gardens out front. The sun was gone and it was entirely dark now, only the orange glow of town lights lit up the road beneath their feet. Distractedly, River watched the silhouettes of people in their homes as they passed.


“…And one piece of paper ripped eight times!” Cas interjected into River’s thoughts. He had concluded his countdown.


“Mmm. You like ripped pieces of paper?” He asked absently, still continuing to spy through windows.


“Uh-huh. I like th’ sound it makes,” Cas answered with a grin, wrapping his arms around River’s shoulders once again. The road was about to fork in a few metres, marking their departure. As if anticipating the goodbye, they both slowed their pace slightly – well, mostly it was just a result of Cas dragging down on every step River took.

But

it was the sentiment that counted.


“Have a goodnight Castor,” River said, as they arrived at the crossroad. Although he wouldn't have admitted it, he did like going on the walk, and he did like having company around.


“Don’t die again, brother!” Cas answered as he began to walk away. “Come see Ella!”


He waved, turned around, and then bounded off.


It was oddly quiet without Cas babbling cheerful nonsensicalities in the background, and River realized that

yes, he had missed the boy after all.

He smiled to himself, but focused on continuing to head home. After awhile, River was becoming very much aware that the stranger was still walking a few paces behind him. Even with the

extremely

off chance they lived around the same place, he saw no reason for the guy to be following behind him.


Finally, he stopped walking, and then turned to face the man.


“Um…Why are you following me?” River asked at last.


He was starting to wonder now if they had accidentally picked up someone straight out of the loony-bin.

 

[Michi]

"Because you told me I can follow you... And I don't know where to go. But you seem like you know where you're going." It wasn't unheard of. When people were confused or felt lost they would just follow everyone who knew where they were going. "Were you all told you couldn't go back either?" He finally asked.


While they had walked through the town, the thought had crossed his mind. How had all of these people been out here? How long had they been here? Were they all from the city inside the wall too? They'd said it was impossible for people to survive outside, but all these people were alive. Dirty, and not as technologically advanced, but they were alive.


He himself had stopped walking as the other had, "Where are we going anyways? The town was back there, don't you live in town?" He'd said he was going home, but why would he live all the way out here and not in the town.

 

[cellar.]

River stared at the man for a few seconds before bursting out into a confused, “What?”


He had a whirlpool of questions in his head that started with at that particular word:

‘what do you mean we couldn’t go back? What do you mean I said you could follow me – did I really? And what were you even doing in the middle of nowhere?’

But he didn’t ask any of those things, only pondering how he was going to phrase

‘can you please get lost?’

in a polite and civilized way.


It had been a long day, and River was in no mood to be playing twenty questions.


“Um. I…I meant you could follow us out of the forest…not to my house,” he finally said. “Sorry?” River added as an afterthought, although unsure what he was apologizing for. However, this stranger did seem very lost, and River vaguely felt a little sorry that he was being rather impatient today (well, he was

tired

, goddammit

.

) Backtracking, he was about to ask where he lived, before he was interrupted by the man himself.


River was on the verge of opening his mouth to say

‘no, I live a little off from town,’

but then he realized that he didn’t owe this person any sort of explanation, and certainly didn’t feel like being stalked all the way back home. He sighed, pushing his hair back with a hand out of bad habit.


“Uh. Couldn’t go back…to where?” He asked instead.

 

[Michi]

[[ugh sorry I've had the flu.]]


"Oh." That made sense, he guessed. Who would invite some random stranger to their house? Much less a dirty smelly stranger who probably looked like he'd been dragged behind a garbage truck. Oh, god. He hoped he didn't really look that bad. His hands went up to brush his hair back as if maybe it would make him look or feel less dirty. It probably didn't do either of those things though.


He turned to face the way they'd come from, town should be just a way's back. But he wasn't really sure where to start, and it was even late now, so what was he supposed to do about even finding someone to help him, everyone was probably going to bed now. Even in the dark, he could still see the pale moon's light reflecting off the wall. But tonight the wall didn't represent all the same things as it had every night of his life before. The mystery, the wonder. No, now it was taunting him. The closed walls large proof that he wasn't welcome inside anymore. And all because he'd just wanted to see what was outside. This hardly seemed fair!


Noan had nearly missed what the other male had said before he turned his attention back to guy. "What do you mean? Did you guys not come from inside?" That couldn't be possible though, everyone had to have come from inside the wall, Because the war had made it so no one could live outside the walls. This had to be a fairly new venture, or something of the sorts. How long could these people have really been out here for?