A Comedic Accountant's Recounting

[erside]

Numbers are the Lifeblood of our world.

My grandmother did not believe me when I told her this high tale back home, so far away from where I am now. Or perhaps she did, and she simply did not wish to steer me in that direction.

I crave numbers. The balance and order that composes them. There were 300 angels who descended with Kraus for Creation. 300 Primals who aided the dragons in the making of the world. Meranthe, the land of gods, is 300,000 square kilometers of land without accounting for the mystical and inexplicable anomaly that is the Silent Expanse. These patterns in this world have meaning. They have order. They have purpose. Creation was not incidental. Its continued making was never by chance.

My mother would think different. My siblings would drive me mad every day, maintaining this disorder in my life.
When the hands of the clock tick, I can feel myself at peace. But.. if they tick any earlier, I can feel my heart rouse and lose control.
I hate it. How easy it is, to revel in that uncomfortable excitement over breaking the rules of this world.

Numbers are the Lifeblood of our world.

Ymir was split into ten pieces.
There are ten divine spirits in the world.

Five great Dragons.
Six embodiments of the Constants within our world.

How twisted must one be, to assume that these have no meaning? To look at a pattern, and have no interest in finding out where it breaks.
When it breaks.
How it breaks.

Numbers are the Lifeblood of our world.

And I must keep track of them. Every single minute detail. Every single deal, every single purpose. Then maybe, I can show it to her. She will revel in seeing that the future she trusted within me has been kept up to date, even in her absence. She will enjoy how tethered everything is. How beautiful, and majestic, and how easy it will be to know that if even a single thing of these patterns is missing..
Then the rest will simply fall, like a skeleton missing one of its bones. Falling all into a different place, and a different pattern once more. Something else to study. New numbers to account for.

I'm eager to see you again, mother.
Yours truly,
- C