Realignment of Wilyaander

**Realignment of Wilyaander #2 BOOK**

## Preface

I WAS HANDED A BOOK WRITTEN by a certain person. Supplemented by historical information that was actually quite scant. This piece claimed to reproduce faithfully a decade old manuscript that, in its turn, had been lost since forever until today. The scholarly discovery (the second in chronological order) entertained with the story of a general advisor who happens to **meander CORPS UNIVERSE** now.

There are certain magic moments. Even here, the PREFACE. An echo.

The known universes so far that are yet to explored involve great physical fatigue and intense motor excitement that produce visions of people known in the past (“en me retreçant ces détails, j’en suis à mie damander s’ils sont réels, ou buen si je lis ai rêvés”). As I learned, later, from the delightful little book of the "Realignment of Wilyaander", there is another vision of books as yet unwritten. The Past.

Past of Wilyaander.

## Existence/Comma of the WORD

In the beginning, there was a WORD and the WORD was with him and the WORD was **GOD**. This is how everything started. The very beginning with WORD and the duty of every faithful royal would be to repeat a set of disciplines with a sunrise in the royal hall with chanting meekness the one never-changing event whose incontrovertible truth can be asserted. The WORD was **GOD.** It changed everything before anything was ever done. Reality, it was. King's dead. But, there's one. **Iemedria Wildoreg Wilyaander**. It was a reality.

### First Day

In which the foot of the abbey is reached in the royal hall, W. stands proudly to demonstrate a great acumen to the royal highness. An advisor deemed royal.

It was a beautiful night; hinting, calling for the autumns. During that night it did snow, but only a little and the earth was covered with a cool blanket no more than three fingers high. It was the last snow of the season. In the darkness, immediately, we heard a screech, that too, from the farthest valley, crossed with an instrument. **Trumpets** like instruments that make loud noises. It was surely indicating something cursed. Probably, death of a loved one. Iemedria set off towards the mountain with some royals to meet privateers stationed at the docks that will take them to the farthest valley. The first sun greeted them as they traversed slashing the ocean currents humbly. Everyone slept. The captain hesitated. So did Iemedria. He looked at him, then at the path, and finally asked, “Wilyaander? How did you know?”

> ...the WORD warned me...
>
>

This year, for the first time, and for reasons Iemedria didn’t understand what was going on, By now, he should have been aside him. Iemedria Wildoreg Wilyander had forgotten how many times he’d been told that he would kill him. It was a recurring dream. A low pitch voice. Guiding him throughout. A unnamed sword from a different dimension. Group of nobles chanting "Sword of Destiny" and the WORD that keeps telling him about it. Something that is bound to happen. Something that can't be undone.

Iemedria shuddered to the thought.

"Returning to your room?"

### Day Fourteen and Fifteen

It took the ship to reach the farthest valley almost two week. The winter was now over.

Royal Academy was the number one reason as to why W. had developed his two habits into life principles: One, stay away, because, whatever, it was, it were trouble, always. And two, stay away from the ones at **ROYAL ACADAMY** because they were good-for-nothing. "Bastards and buggers", Iemedria mumbled. The ambient light from the nearly full moon caught W. again making him remember the drawings over the dirt. A dream. Weird customs for him. He asked, “What is that?" whilst dreaming and some voices replied that it was a genital. The same night? Iemedria had more visions. These visions didn't seem like somewhere from where he belonged. He was sure it wasn't. He wasn't. But, it was unfortunately reality. The WAR will happen 12 days later.

> We need chemtrails for him to follow. I can't afford to lose him. I am not going to let...
>
>

> Fuck it...
>
>

## Me and My Sister

She reached out a hand to her hero. She touched the very edge of his not-there grey sweater. Cold flooded through her like dread last winter but she is warm now. She is loved and has buns to eat at home. She tried to steady herself with what she’d always been told. The royal guards won't let anyone except the royal committee to enter the hall. She waited for him to return. Spirits drew all their negative energy from their surroundings. Unlike, her brother, she didn't have visions and was protected nonetheless. All that she was feeling was him, This is how the life of a close one moves forward. Close one of Iemedria Wildoreg Wilyander.