Rose Blumen ~ Exogignesthai

(Rose)

B – Not the greatest poetry yet. But you’ve improved for sure.

R – Hm... Thank you. I never thought I could be inspired to write about my own life. But the thought has crossed my mind once in a while. But because I never had much of an imaginative talent as you know.

B – You mean your brain lock I think.

R – Mean one... Yes...

B – You’ve improved Rose.

I thank her and smile. Maybe I should try to write again someday. I can enjoy some poetry and fantasy. And I’ve always loved whimsical tales of encounters with daiûas...

Even if there’s no one left to write them for or read them to. I might still want to write.

~

Even as I walk across these wondrous landscapes, I like to dream.

What my mind allows me to daydream.

My life certainly gave me more material to train my imagination over the last decade than over the two of my first life.

R – Do you enjoy your dreams lately sis?

N – Those I remember, yes. Although I mostly dream about us walking along the mountain paths.

I laughed. That is sensible for her brain.

Not far from us, Blume and Nightmare’s wings seem to be fighting like wild birds. Although they have neither beaks nor talons, they sure go at each other.

Nightmare and I see them, but keep walking without a worry. It’s just them playing at being alive. They enjoy it.

I can see her hands twitch as she’s controlling two bodies at once, and it’s not easy for a single brain. I take hold of her hand. She twitches as I do and her wings as well.

She looks at me, and only sees a great smile, almost naive, on my face. Nightmare looks at the hand I now hold in silence.

She probably feels the warmth clutching onto her fingers like I do.

That makes her think about other things.

Soon the wings return to a more peaceful flight and us to an uneventful hike.

~

We camp inside an upside down truck that probably fell from a road higher in the mountains, or fell from a plane. It’s the middle of nowhere. Yet, there’s an upside down truck there, old and rusty. And us inside as night falls.

We all sleep next to each other in what is like a heavy tent or small room.

I remember as I fall into slumber my choice given by the time shift dream.

Would I rather return to my previous life, or go on in the current one?

I blindly look for something in the dark with my hands. Everything is asleep.

My fingers touch a few different things, looking for something. A piece of fabric, feathers from a wing, dust on cloth, a strand of hair, a shoulder, and soon fingers lying further along a hand fast asleep. I hold softly onto her hand.

Visions of her current dream spill onto me. Unless her playful tone that brought her to bear her name has really mellowed dangerously.

I fall asleep, seeing her walking along a windy path, surrounded my high mountains. I do look different in her dream. My hair especially. My face too. I look younger.

I wonder where that image comes from. Although I’m fine with it. I look good and I smile. But maybe it’s not exactly me. And we both sleep happily now.

I delightfully come to haunt her dream as she can haunt mines.

~

Aside a small stream, we caught a few animals for our next dinner.

I cooked, letting Nightmare play around and Blume fly a little further

Salamanders, normal ones, on skewers, can be quite tastier than I expected.

Nightmare puts one of her transparent seeds in a hole filled with muddy water and bits of leftovers from every animal we are, including bones and shells.

With weird noises, things are resurrected. Gross looking tissues and monsters, small things, erupted one after another.

The witch’s cauldron, a cold hole of muddy water, slowly gave birth to all the beasts that died previously for us.

That’s how far she can bend the truth of biological life to her will.

Meanwhile, Blume returned and landed next to us. Her thin roots went to eat things lying around.

R – What have you seen? You seem a little restless.

B – Eh eh eh.

She has no face, but I can tell she’s happy.

B – It’s not the jungle you expect yet, but the landscape does change a lot behind that last mountainous range.

R – Cities? Megalopolis?

B – Not quite either.

R – ... A sea?

B – Good call! Somewhat. It’s peculiar, you will judge for yourself.

N – At least, the mountains will end.

A sea, in the middle of southern America.. Or something that looks like a sea?

I’m curious now. Of course I want to see.

~

A day and a half later, we reached the end of our trail across the Andes. We didn’t take the shortest route across. Not that we regret really any of it. Our feet and legs hurt but handled us well.

Beyond the edge, the last natural barrier, we discovered what Blume called the look-alike of a sea.

I can’t say I would have had a better word for it.

It’s a swampy sea, bright green, in the middle of the continent. It’s reaching the horizon all around. A dark green and oily see borders the Andes.

It’s obviously not oceanic waters. I don’t think the continent sunk. It looks more like a thick soup of the trees, mushrooms, herbs and muds that were below.

Blume dipped her roots in it to analyse its composition.

Nightmare and I looked at the waves rolling across the landscape of this land now unexpectedly oceanic.

R – Any clue of what happened or what this is?

B – Well... The water isn’t as salty as sea water, but it’s definitely similar. It’s more like a great lake was formed I guess.

R – But this colour and thickness?

B – Oh yes, well, it is heavily loaded with minerals and organic materials.

Nightmare was already beaming. Uh oh.

N – It’s a primordial soup.

R – Careful with the wild ideas you!

Nightmare laughed, plunging a hand in the shallow waters. She rubbed the oily drops between her fingers and sniffed it.

N – Interesting...

R – What is it?

N – It’s surprisingly void of any beings-like-us in smell. I wonder why?

R – Don’t get sick from touching this okay?

Too late, she licked her fingers and I jinxed us. I sigh. Although I can’t help myself from grinning as well.

~