(Rose)
We left swiftly the dragon's territory behind us. Blume is rather scared by that odd being, staying still, silent, and hidden to the world despite its apparently great size and huge power.
Its body looks like nothing clearly defined or shaped she says, but by all other means, the best way to describe in a single word that powerful thing would be dragon. Not a sleeping one, but a very patient one, waiting for ages for something to be completed.
Blume thinks it would be better not to get too involved in the beast's affairs. We have our agreement with it, it's more than enough. So we resume our journey while autumn is reaching its end.
The roads look the same as in summer though, aside from the bluer weather and colder temperatures.
Some flowers are still blooming here and there for some. Most of the trees didn't lose their leaves either. I can even still find spring and summer fruits here and there. How come?
B - Nature adapted, or evolved. Every plant reacted in a way or another, it depends, it's a little random. Though yes, many plants chose not to bother with seasonal cycles anymore. I wonder how this works out for them.
R - Nature's gone mad so.
B - I would rather say that nature cares less about what happens. You probably didn't notice it, but the trees of this time, well most of them anyway, do not try to grow anymore.
R - Trees aren't growing anymore?
B - Yes. Most plants we see, not just trees, don't work on growing taller anymore. They feel good enough only working on staying the same as they are and safe.
R - What about the crops from our friends?
B - I didn't notice anything unusual back then. But I think even the plants I mentioned would try to regrow if you harvested them. They simply don't try to extend or grow bigger than they currently are anymore. Most of them anyway, not all of them.
R - So... I guess the forest will never recover the abandoned fields and cities?
B - Probably never. Some plants and mushrooms will in their stead over time.
I walk, thinking about it. I wonder how the world will keep changing... At least it'll ease my travels if the roads don't disappear under wild grass before I arrive.
~
There's this little town west of London I'd like to go to. I forgot about it last time. It's a long way southward.
There's the larger cities of the north I'd like to go to also. Though Scotland in winter might be a little risky this year given how cold it feels already over here. Let's see how I pass this winter first.
There's the sea and the Channel in the east. The heart of the country in the west. I ponder about where to go.
B - It sounds like you want to return near London. What was that place again?
R - Mary's Church. Some people important to me are buried there.
B - What about your true home from before? I know how you feel about that place and your loss, but perhaps you can still turn it into something good.
R - We'll see. I think we'll go back south for now. I would like to check the ports and coastal towns for any ship that could one day bring us to the continent. I won't sail out this year, but perhaps we can set this ready.
And thus we go. The usual endless road unfolds before us. The quiet scenery surrounds us. We cross the path of odd lights and glowing orbs or snowflakes flying around.
I walk through a fog of very light, almost flying and still in mid-air, shards of broken glass. It's a solid mist standing there for no apparent reason. I push them around as I walk through, breathing through my scarf to make sure I don't inhale any shard. The trail of my way I leave behind is three dimensional instead of just footsteps on the ground.
I see flying snakes jumping and gliding from tree to tree, though they have no wings. One of them slithers down the tree trunk and comes to look at me, as much as I come to look at it. I never met a snake before. Eels, but never snakes.
Its tail keeps it steady, holding the tree trunk tight. It stretches its neck toward me. We look at each other with curiosity.
It's cuter than I expected, though I remain careful. It's looking around me, its funny tongue taking a taste of the air rapidly and repeatedly. Unlike most of the animals I've met so far, this snake is the only one that still is as I remember it should be, or was in my time.
The snake pokes my hand with its head like a cat would with its paw. I try to caress it but it draws back. It was cold to the touch. That felt weird.
It loses its interest for me and goes back into the tree. I leave too. I wonder if snakes could become pets today. This one looked intelligent, or curious at the very least.
~
The road is endless but I'm getting used to walk enormous distances, without anything worthy of interest happening. I'm getting used eating things to awful to call them food, and sleeping outdoor by a fire or in a folding tent.
Every morning, Blume greets me kindly. Every evening and dawn, we enjoy the sun and sky playing with all the colours of the world. Days are dull, nights are duller, but dawn and dusk are the ever-changing palettes and powerful yet evolving paintings. Thanks this Egyptian goddess whose name I forgot for preventing a monster from swallowing the sun each night in the underworld. Maybe I don't remember this cosmogony right.
I guess the pyramids still stand proudly where they were. I should go there someday too. I should keep a list of the places I want to visit someday.
The world I've left was filled with wonders, man-made or not. I know I'll probably want to stop travelling one day, but for now, I still want to learn and discover what I can of this incredible world.
It looks so quiet and still from where I stand, and yet it is so full of lives and wonders. It's less human than before, but still as rich and interesting.
On my rhythm, there is little happening most of the days but a traveling routine.
I follow endless old roads, damaged differently depending of the area. I pass by abandoned vehicles or ruins pretty often. Most of the times, it holds nothing useful, beside the sight of something man-made decaying.
Often I stumble on plants or animals never seen before, and often I wonder if they didn't exist in my time.
I wonder where the giant snake went? The one I encountered maybe a year ago, that was miles long and one story tall. A beast even legends don't describe. It was a slowly moving scaly wall barring the land. I never saw it again, as it headed west, inland.
I find mushrooms bigger than cabbages sometimes. Sometimes they even glow at night. Or move while I'm not looking.
On top of that, my right eye still sees the other things everywhere, though that sense is fading I noticed. I see them less and less clearly over time. I'll rely on Blume again.
My hair has two colours now. The tips are still mostly white, but the new hair and basis of the old ones are chestnut again. My left arm is as good as new and so are my ribs now. Even my skull feels full now when I touch the parts that were missing. I'm good as new, despite my deadly wounds from before.
I'm getting stronger, in my legs mostly. I can walk almost twice as much now.
And so I go on. I evolve, as the sceneries along the roads slowly transform, but rapidly change.
Blume is building her new self she says, somewhere on my chest and within. She's tickling my skin at times, from beneath my clothes or beneath my skin. It's odd.
I sure like her.
And I sure like her more because she's a flower and not a human. No matter what my father taught me, the look matters as much as the soul. Especially in the beginning.
I would never have fallen in love with the fleshy forest she was before, looking and feeling like guts everywhere. Flowers, and especially roses, hit my soft spot in a corner of my mind.
It's an appearance I like. I know it wasn't only luck, and she made the right choice.
She's smart, no matter how odd and different she is.
I do like her. I feel good knowing she's with me all the way, with each step, always. And she will never let go of my hand, figuratively speaking of course.
She will never let go of my flesh, and perhaps neither of my soul.
But unlike a parasite or an ogre, she does not want to eat me or turn me into a slave. Every choice she made and chance she had proved it. She's a monster that I shouldn't have judged on her first look, because she turned out to be far more virtuous than I am.
Or a lot similar at least. Trying her best to be virtuous, over guilt and sincere love for another one. She was right, we indeed are very alike in more ways than one, me and her.
Dear flower buried beneath my clothes and against my chest.
She's like a kitten I'd hide there against the cold air outside.
And yet she's working her magic. To change her body into something more adapted. And to insure the safety of me if I had a deadly accident.
It seems hard to set an accurate and working copy of my soul, meaning my knowledge and memory. She says she's working on a way to make it work.
And I trust her. I know she will.
Even though what feels like two years ago, I would have said that it's all impossible.
~
The roads brought me back to the yellowish forsaken city of London.
In the distance, that yellow cloud and field of toxic mushrooms is covering the horizon. That thing took over that city I loved visiting once. It doesn't feel that old, but... The sight is peremptory.
I head south west this time, heading for a smaller town on the outskirt. There is a place I'd like to see again before heading to the coasts.
From there, instead of countryside, the roads stretch across fields of ruins and buildings crumbling into dust. It's grey everywhere rather than autumnal.
Everything looks dull and rather dead, yet no monster took over this place. It's just what a ruined megalopolis turns out to become after the end of times. Ruins with eroded stones covering slowly the area with a coarse grey sand, a mixture of concrete, metallic oxides, glass and plastics.
Little life manages to bloom in this desertic environment, beside the giant foamy mushroom and some other molds.
We found rail tracks. I follow them to reach my destination.
A small town swallowed by the giant city London had become over the centuries I've missed.
Hopefully the small church I once visited still is around to be found, though certainly in ruins too.
The roads are long but never endless. One day or another, we reach our goal. I did.
The place I've looked for is before me.
~