(Rose)
I feel like I’m floating inside a pool. I’m not drowning. I’m asleep.
I can’t hear Blu.
I feel rather lonely.
I want to run outside like that kid.
It’s been too long... Hasn’t it?
Through what Blu and I have beco over ti, I’ve learnt a few things from beyond my ti.
And since I’ve heard this voice, saying this little poem a short while ago, I’m reminded of concepts I’ve never learnt or heard of, and yet that I know a little about.
So I sohow know a few things that I never learnt. And one especially clicks with , feeling so intuitive I’d swear I learnt it when I was a child. It’s a principle of chaos theory. Or just a simplified explanation of it Blu learnt sowhere and transmitted to over ti.
Like German, I didn’t learn it really, Blu brought it within . I guess.
That poem reminded of this saying.
One event doesn’t just occur by itself.
An action has a cause and a consequence, each event causing the next, and the next, and so on in an endless linear fashion, like strings, or threads.
Threads of fate.
And one event you can be emotional about, has always a direct cause you can find on that thread. As if soone or sothing killed your father. You can find the culprit.
But the thread can be followed further back in ti, to the cause that made the culprit act this way, or even him to exist at all.
And so on into genealogy, you can follow the thread of causality endlessly.
The reality is far more complex, threads are reticulated all over, into countless fibres that gather and spread all the ti. The threads are really the lines you chose to focus on in an endless web of ti.
Which makes every event the consequence, the improbable consequence of an infinite number of previous events, and so on.
The leaves that make slip have each a full thread that brought them there under my shoes. What matters most may be my yawning, but these threads still are there, and countless.
And such events as wars, beginning with a casus belli, may have started anyway without that particular even, if enough steps and threads heading toward conflict had been taken already anyway.
Chaos theory in my agre understanding of it, is the appearance of such patterns, faggots of clues leading into sothing different. One event building toward war happens, then another, then another... They may not be on the sa threads at all, but eventually, with the last casus belli, the thread of a great war appears.
My descriptions are poor, but what I an is: Patterns erging from chaos.
One event, sowhere, sowhen, occurs. My father buying a doll.
Another unrelated event, sowhere, sowhen, occurs. An Ottoman ship sinking on the shores of japan.
Another unrelated tragedy occurs sowhere, sowhen. A train wreck in central England.
And years later, another.
My sisters’ death. My journey to London. Soone compiling these old folkloric tales of a daiûa in Karelia.
An artist writing the song of Gülnihal in the Ottoman empire.
With that poem I just her or recalled, while I was already half awake in this state, floating sowhere warm, I noticed it...
I noticed a pattern erging from the chaos of my history. Even long before I had any power over it. So of these events happened before I was born.
Retrospectively, like war, it’s much easier to spot the events forming the visible chain of events leading to it, the main thread of fate.
But it’s easier at posteriori. Before that, at priori, it’s incredibly hard to predict what the future may hold, unless bundles of clues start aligning sowhat.
Who could say what will do soone whom isn’t alive yet?
Who could have foreseen the life and choices of this kind daiûa I call Blu?
She was the rock thrown into the puddle of chaos.
Or maybe just another dot, with causes, and consequences.
I’ve begun to notice that pattern, in which she played a role, my daiûa, as did Blue’s daiûa in her ti.
The thread, if you look only at it and forget every other fibres bound to it, looks as if everything had led only to this point.
It’s an optical illusion of course, because obviously everything led anything that happened, to their happening, every leaves. It’s logical. An illusion of fate, easier to see after the facts.
So this poem I recalled, feels as if everything had led to this point, this new event I notice.
It has multiple causes inscribed in a pattern I now notice with full attention.
It will have consequences on that thread that follows my own.
I don’t even think that it’s a good poem. But that’s beside the point.
To , it rang suddenly and strongly as chaos theory in action, revealed under the lilight.
From chaos, the patterns have beco a visible thread.
Her voice rang in my head as if she was already inside.
Your voice...
Each word heavy with aning from the whole pattern and past events that lead to it, from hundreds of years ago.
Before we were even born...
I wonder what made you chose these words...
- You are not Rose. I am not Blue. Yet here we are, Their promise true.
~
As the veil was ripped, I fell into the arms of soone. I was falling with water and thus quickly feeling cold.
The light blinding , I’ve had flashes of mories.
I only recall the one of Ogre crushing my head. It’s the kind of mory that wakes you up suddenly in the middle of your sleep, startled and scared.
I cough. Soone is taking care of . I’m cold. My chest feels cold.
I look around in a daze. There are a few people around but I’m looking for one only. Another silhouette being carried away like . I raise my hand and voice toward it.
R - Blue...
Blue raised a hand toward and spoke my na.
She’s alive...
Against all odds. Against all odds...
She’s alive, and so am I.
~
I woke up on a bed. So rough clothes left for .
And a note with a handwriting very similar to mine, saying welco back, from my friend Zeslinry.
I’m in England?
I’m confused, and don’t recognise the place nor the landscape by the window. Zeslinry changed house I guess...
This place looks like a palace, not by the decorum but the size. The ceiling is maybe four tres high even in this guest room.
By the windows of the room, I see a wide field under the rain.
I dress with that magenta pink dress.
It’s been a while since I last wore a dress.
I have a scar on my chest... Blu isn’t there... I feel a little hollow.
She will grow back eventually. But I don’t understand where I am nor why.
I exit the room and venture inside what is a huge mansion. It sounds actually rather lively. I hear chatters and laughs.
Whispers can be heard at every corner I pass as if I were spied on by children.
But they sound more amused and kind that creepy and odd. There is a joyful mood in here.
I go downstairs. I can’t manage to run into anyone, but I follow the path that is opened to , playing along. I do hear people going around and whispering.
It reminds of birthday surprises we sotis did in our childhood.
I hear two won speaking about my arrival in the kitchen. As I try to open the door, they block it.
One of them apologizes in a laughing manner and say I should go to the main dining hall.
I want to play along but my curiosity is too high right now...
R - Who are you? Your voice sounds really familiar.
She leaves through another way, door left locked, laughing in a mischievous manner like my sisters used to.
I feel odd hearing all this.
I reach the main dining hall.
I hear soone say I always were a sleepy head.
I go inside. It’s dark, but I hear chatters. It really reminds of birthday surprises.
The door is closed behind , I’m in the dark for the reveal.
- Welco back Rose. Can you guess who is there?
R - Zeslinry, Myls, you... And, Blue?
- Hmmm. Is that close enough?
- Well, she will find out soon enough anyway, so let’s surprise her one good ti before it spoils.
- Agreed.
I brace myself, very confused by what I hear. The light is switched on.
I see a swarm of myself yelling surprise and laughing.
I pass out.
~
This... wasn’t on the pattern...
I wake up in the sa room as before, as if it was just a weird dream before.
But my head hurts a lot this ti. I have a bump...
The door is opened as I sit on the bed. Myls, and a rose...
They bring a al.
R - You’re... One of the mindless roses, I an, roses. Licht told about you...
- That is correct. We’re free now, thanks to her. Sorry for the good scare, we wanted to get back at you, at least a little.
For causing them to be and suffer...
R - I’m sorry... Licht did not want my help. She said you were her... aning in life. Not mine. She didn’t want to interfere in her fight against her god.
- I can understand her... See, you’re the one living her life as Rose, so we build our identity sowhere else.
She’s holding Myls’s shoulders. This disturbs . She is grinning. Making fun of or getting uncomfortable are their way of getting back at for their suffering. I can’t bla her.
Myls seems happy.
R - How many are you?
- Twenty-four living here. Thirty-one confird survivors last week. We probably were about half a thousand inhabiting Dragod. There may be others we haven’t found yet, but it’s becoming very unlikely.
R - I see... It’s tragic... And is Blue...
- She’s here. She’s... as much of herself as she can be I guess. She’ll co and see you as soon as she’s done playing with the others I guess. She was a little ecstatic to wake up surrounded by so many roses.
We exchange the sa smile. It does sound like her sohow...
So, it really happened. She’s alive...
~
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