On the ninety fourth day and eighth hour after Two killed his brother, he sent a letter out into the gap between dimensions.
The letter bore no sender or address, its creamy envelope perfectly blank. On the single slip of paper inside, only two things were written: an address and a date. Though the letter had no listed recipient, Two was confident it would reach its destination. It was a letter that could only be read and understood by the one it was meant for.
Satisfied, he leaned back on his chair. The dark wood creaked beneath him. Patches of mold were beginning to grow around its legs from the time the roof had leaked, but Two didn’t pay it any mind. It wasn’t like a bit of mold could kill him.
Outside, the evening light streamed through the home’s foggy windows in uneven patches and streaks. It was a small home, too worn down and bare to be called cozy. A layer of dust coated most places, save for the areas Two walked and sat in, and those places numbered few.
Two closed his eyes, relaxing his muscles and enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on his face.
One hour and fifteen minutes after the letter was cast into the void, a rough, weathered sheet of parchment was slipped under Two’s doorway accompanied by the clear note of a ringing bell. This parchment was not a response to his own message, but he picked it up and dusted off the ink all the same, dark eyes scanning the simple note.
Anybody < 6,
I’m heading out. Come ready for a fight. If you can’t cause serious damage you’d better send someone else!
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Realm 376, the big tree (you’ll know it when you see it)
Two raised an eyebrow and folded the note back up. There was no name on the letter, but he had a feeling he knew who it was.
Striding towards the door, he slipped on a plain black coat and dark brown gloves. The coat was covered in enough lint to completely alter its texture, but he paid it no mind. Just as he reached the exit, Two stopped. The floorboards creaked beneath him as he turned towards a small opaque white vase sitting on a table beside the window, pristine where the rest of the furniture was dusty and dirt-streaked.
“I’m going out,” Two told the vase. “I’ll be back soon.”
The vase, as expected, didn’t reply. Two shut the door and stepped outside.
A crisp breeze greeted him, forcing his long coat to flare out. His home stood alone atop a smooth hill. From here, the eye could see nothing but waving grasses for miles on end. At dusk, their tips glowed golden, and when they swayed they appeared like a wildfire rippling endlessly across the fields.
Two adjusted his gloves and squinted up at the sky. “Three seven six,” he muttered to himself. He turned eighty degrees left. If he remembered right, it should be somewhere over there.
Well, if he was wrong, he could just come back and try again, Two thought.
Nodding to himself, he bent his legs, body tilted just a little backwards. He sucked in a breath, all the wind in the area flowing into his lungs.
He jumped. The earth cracked beneath his feet, dirt spraying outwards, but he didn’t see it. He was already shooting off, propelling rapidly towards that distant star. The air was a solid force against him, sharp as blades, but Two felt none of it. He simply continued, soaring across the red sky towards his destination.