There is something rooted in your chest.
Long ago, when you were sleeping and no less yourself, it drifted from somewhere and took hold in your ribs. Over the years, while you slumbered, it twined around your bones, dug into your vertebrae, filled your heart and lungs with flowers the colour of a pale spring sky.
Now you are awake, and while it looks rather pretty, you find it difficult to breathe.
It has lived a thousand lives and died a thousand deaths inside your ribcage, and clogged your insides with rotting petals and withered leaves.
You smell bad. The scent is a little like flowers, but mostly like the sticky, cloying smell of decay.
You decide that...
[[It may be time to get rid of it.->Pull]]
[[It's too deeply embedded in you, and you should leave it.->Refrain]]
[[You should set it on fire.->Burn]]
You attempt to yank the irritation from your chest, digging your fingers into the wilted mess of greenery that chokes your ribcage before [pulling]<yank|.
(click: ?yank)[(transition: "dissolve")[No matter how hard you try, it stubbornly refuses to let go of you. Despite the rot that riddles it, it's surprisingly green underneath.
The wet //crunch// of fresh stems and buds is audible, as you pull and pull.
It begins to cling to your hand, twining around it in a hungry fashion. You let go before it roots itself in your fingers.
You have been defeated, for the moment.
[[What now?->Wait]]]]
You leave it be, at least for the moment. Though it tangles you up inside, it's pretty in its own way.
Perhaps you will even get used to it, as you did other [things]<other|.
(click: ?other)[(transition: "dissolve")[You distantly recall the sound of a faraway [place]<place|, and a strange feeling of discontent. (click-append:"place")[ ,the gnawing silence of a tomb guarded without rest]
You did not want to be there, for your own reasons. But it grew on you.
Much like the flowers have.]]
[[You look around, wanting to see where you have woken up.->Wait]]
Has it occurred to you that perhaps setting it on fire would also cause you to burst into flames?
You can be forgiven for not realising this before. You have, after all, just woken up.
After some thought, you decide that...
[[...you want to try and yank it free of you.->Pull]]
[[...you should leave it be.->Refrain]]
[[...YOU STILL WANT TO BURN IT, WHAT ARE YOU, A //LOSER?//->Immolate]]
Well, what are you going to set it on fire with?
[[...->Wait]]
You look around yourself for the first time.
The grass here goes up to your chest, and you are not so short, you think, so it has been here for a long time. A wind waves it, and it ripples like a [vast sea]<memory| of green.
(click: ?memory)[(transition: "dissolve")[You remember a [sea]<sea|, or [something like it]<sky|, from your memories long ago in a [distant land]<land|.]]
(click: ?sea)[(transition: "dissolve")[//The sea remained in your mind, even after you left it. It was vast and deep, and it drew people to it like a void. You remembered the sea with a certain fondness, but a sense of uncertainty.//]]
(click: ?sky)[(transition: "dissolve")[//The sky was open and had none of the borders that closed it in, unlike the sea. If you tilted your head just so, lying on the ground, you could almost believe that you had drifted up to the sky itself. It was limitless. Full of (link-reveal:"potential")[ and, you remember, a certain emptiness.]//]]
(click: ?land)[(transition: "dissolve")[//The land had people, and places, but you cannot remember names or faces. The distant sound of chattering and laughter is all you can recall.
Perhaps the plant that took root in you has something to do with it, but it is equally likely that your long [sleep]<death| has taken something from you.//]]
(click: ?death)[(transition: "dissolve")[Ah, but you remember something, at least.
Your sleep was less kind than the word suggests.
This place, long-forgotten and overgrown, is littered with bodies. They vary in size and shape and in wounds, but from their dusty remains grow the flowers you are so used to. The flowers you may have tried to drag from your chest, when you woke.
You were dead, once. The world has changed in your absence. The grass has grown long.
Upon this realisation, you feel as if...
[[...you need time to process it. This is a little much.->Ponder]]
[[...you'll feel better if you stop thinking about it.->Move]]]]
You force your body to move the way it should. Though it's wound through with roots, choked with petals, it works well enough.
You are [not sure]<sure| what you would do if it didn't work, to be honest. (click: ?sure)[(transition: "dissolve")[
Lie there, probably. It's all you'd have left at that point. But happily for you, this isn't the case.]]
You idly wonder why you're even awake in the first place.
For all intents and purposes, you really shouldn't be. What brought you back here, exactly?
What was it? You search your memory, and manage to dredge up something very, very faint.
You had...
[[...something to do.->Task]]
[[...somewhere to be.->Place]]
[[...someone to go to.->Promise]]
The most pressing questions that enter your mind are:
"[Who]<who| was I?" (click: ?who)[(transition: "dissolve")[ Try as you might, you can only remember [fragments.]<frag|]]
(click-replace: "fragments")[(transition: "dissolve")[ distant flickers of who you were. There was [warmth]<warm|, and there was also [darkness.]<dark| And at the end, there were [flowers]<petal|]]
(click: ?warm)[(transition: "dissolve")[//The heat of the sun. The burning sensation from biting into something hot and delicious, scorching your tongue, too soon to eat. The fading sensation of someone's touch on your cheek.//]]
(click: ?dark)[(transition: "dissolve")[//Darkness under the ground, into places buried and lost. No fear in your heart, but others were not like you, bold and unafraid, child of the deep places. They said that the earth loved you like no other.//]]
(click: ?petal)[(transition: "dissolve")[//Blood on the soil. Metal glinting in the light.
Hot,
and staining
and heavy.
The earth roils underneath you, the tremors of a quake. (click-replace: "a quake.")[(transition: "dissolve")[grief.]]
All you can think of, in this faint moment, are how pretty the flowers around you are;
a pale and enduring shade of blue, like the colour of a spring sky.//]]
And, furthermore,
"How did I [die]<fall|?" (click: ?fall)[(transition: "dissolve")[Try as you might, you can barely remember the wound that led you to your final rest. There was certainly blood and pain, but you're drawing a blank on pretty much everything else.]] (click-replace: "final")[not-so-final] (click-append: "blood")[ (now gone)] (click-append: "pain")[ (strangely absent)]
Whether you chose to search your memories or not, you realise that you probably won't get anything done by sitting here.
[[It's time to move on.->Leave]]
The fields are vast, vaster than you expected. Occasionally, something [crunches]<bones| underfoot.
(click: ?bones)[(transition: "dissolve")[//You look down, sometimes. It's almost always a body, askew on the ground. Pierced by spears or arrows, cloven asunder, broken in half...the wounds go on and on. The flowers are almost comforting, at times like these. They hide the worst of the damage.
Not that there's much left to hide, any more, but it makes you feel better. Flowers have always made you feel better. Perhaps it's why they seem so reluctant to let go of you.
You cannot remember what happened here, on this battlefield, but perhaps it's for the better.//]]
There's a pleasant breeze, at least. You stumble over the rusted wreckage of some machine, or the entangled remains of large wooden structures, now and then. The plants here have taken them too. Plants of all shapes and sizes have grown over and around them, turning them into seedbeds.
It must be spring, because they're all beautifully in bloom. Flowers of all kinds wave gently to and fro; not just sky blue, but vivid greens and yellows and reds, flickering like candle-flames in the wind.
(click-append: "spring,")[ //(even if the weather seems to say otherwise- the sky is overcast and heavy with clouds. Rain is on the way)// ]
You continue on. It aches, a little, to move forward, but you keep moving on.
Even if you are not quite sure what it is you are moving forward to.
[[You keep walking.->End]]
You [recall]<recall| just a little of what it was.
(click: ?recall)[(transition: "dissolve")[It was direly important, of course. It must be, if you held onto it this [long.]<long|]]
(click: ?long)[(transition: "dissolve")[//You realise you are not actually thinking about how long you've been 'asleep', mostly because it terrifies you a little bit, and you are just going to absolutely leave it that way and stop thinking about it ''right now'' before you scare yourself.//]]
You were supposed to return something, (click-replace: "something,")[(transition: "dissolve")[a trinket, a locket of some kind. Of no real monetary value, but certainly of sentimental value.
It's a little awkward to realise that you cannot actually remember who you were supposed to return it to, but look, you've been out this long, give yourself a break.
[[Do you remember what it looked like?->Look]]]]
You needed to return to a [certain place.]<locate|
(click: ?locate)[(transition: "dissolve")[You can just trace the outline of it in your mind, if you concentrate as hard as you can. You can grasp the tiniest shards of a memory.
It was in a high place. From there, you saw light shining.(click-append: "shining.")[(transition: "dissolve")[ //The stars were close there, so close that you could reach out and pluck them from the sky. They blazed in a way that entranced you, radiant and raw. You knew without being told that if you'd dared to touch a star, it would have left a burn that ached in your bones forever.//]] You heard the wind singing in the rock. At first it was only wind, but it became a mournful cry that shook your heart.]]
[[But why?->Grave]]
You remembered that you spoke to [someone.]<voice|
(click: ?voice)[(transition: "dissolve")[The memory is so far away, but you know that they asked you to return. For what reason, you can't quite recall.
Their voice reminded you of high places and snow. An accent that belonged to the mountains, [just like you]<speak|. You found it pleasing, in the times before.
(click: ?speak)[(transition: "dissolve")[You attempt to remember the sound of your own voice, back then. It sounds different now, cracking from disuse, choking on petals still. Your attempts are for naught; you remember the voice of the breeze and the cries of the birds on the sea, the laughter of people, but not the sound of yourself.
You have lost it, perhaps for good. You don't know how to feel about it yet, mostly because you are not feeling that much at all. Whether this is a good or bad sign is debatable.]]
[[You try to remember their face.->Void]]]]
You hung it around your neck when you found it, for safekeeping.
It seems to have worked; it's still there, although it's been tarnished just a little. But otherwise, it seems to be fine.
[[Open it, just to be safe.->Locket]]
It was someone who you had loved, but [lost.]<lost| In happier times, it was a place for you to share together.
(click: ?lost)[(transition: "dissolve")[ They slipped away from you, back then. You tried as any living thing would to keep them with you, but they [fell]<sick| into darkness and never returned.
(click: ?sick)[(transition: "dissolve")[//Something lit an inner fire in them that ate them from the inside out, devouring all they had, unmercifully hungry. You eased their passing, though you grieved all the more for it.//]]
You carved the stone for them. In the manner of your people, you wrapped them in cloth and bore them to the place they'd loved so much, and you buried them there. Their bones lie there still.
The wind's cry reminded you of their voice, and so you mourned.
(click-append: "mourned.")[
You try to remember your grief, and you can barely touch it with all you have left. A hollow scraping of sadness, long lost.
You //might// have felt sad about this, but you can't seem to muster up emotions about anything, so it's [probably]<no| fine.]
(click: ?no)[^^It's not actually fine, but you can't feel that either, so that's a problem for future you, is it not?^^]
You remember, at least...
[[...that you promised them that you would always come back.->Return]]]]
If that was what woke you from your eternal slumber, then how can you disobey?
For the sake of your restless heart, and the memory of the one you loved so much...
[[...you feel compelled to return.->End]]
Regardless of what drove you on, you've decided that you have to leave this place.
The journey ahead will be long. Longer, perhaps, than anything you've ever undertaken before.
But you have a certain set about you, a certain strength of will and belief.
You will
(probably)
be fine.
[[Replay?->rooted]]
All you remember is that they were a shadow.
Living and breathing, yes, but darker than darkness, something that dwelled in deep places.
They liked you. (click-append: "liked you.")[ You didn't fear them. No darkness ever struck you with apprehension, or made your heart faint and weary.]
[[Were you their only friend?->Yes]]
You remember, at least, that they did not have any other friends.
They were painfully, achingly lonely.
You alleviated it, or at least you think you did, because as you carefully examine what remains of your former life inside your head, you cannot seem to recall a certain [sound]<laughter| of theirs.
(click: ?laughter)[(transition: "dissolve")[You can't recall that they ever laughed. Maybe you forgot.
It seems more likely that the reason you cannot remember is because they never did.]]
[[You remember their smile, though->Smile]]
You managed to make them smile, once or twice. But there was some hidden [sadness]<sad|, deep down, that you could almost see the edges of but never touch.
(click: ?sad)[(transition: "dissolve")[//There was some burden there, carried in their heart, that you couldn't lighten or lift. You shied away from it. It seemed far too heavy for you to even think of breaching.
Sometimes it stirred, like a monster from the deep. It was old and scarred and strong, and you couldn't bear it.
It leaked into every part of them, knitted itself into their flesh. Just like the flowers you have now, and how they're rooted into you.//]]
If you return to them, even after [everything]<time|, perhaps you will finally be able to help them carry such a burden.
(click: ?time)[(transition: "dissolve")[How long has it been since you saw them? How long has it been since you went into the grave?
You try not to think about it, again. That subject is one you're not strong enough to handle yet.]]
[[You've made your choice.->End]]
The silver locket is worn down by exposure to the elements, but it still shines in the pale light of a sun hidden by clouds. It has some beautiful detailing to it, still. The chain is delicate, and shimmers on your armored palm.
The face of the person in the locket is completely unknown to you, but you feel a strong connection to them regardless. Perhaps it was theirs originally, or perhaps it belonged to someone who wanted you to give it back to them.
That is probably what it is. You are not quite certain, but you can't be sure either way, so you might as well decide on a motivation and be done with it.
[[You decide that it's time to move on.->End]]