lesmodsalouette | Graveyard

Graveyard

The garden is still sprawling and green – despite having entirely lost all its riotous flowers and colors, along with any sign of wildlife or birdsong – though one thing stands out more than anything else: from Monday to Thursday, you can’t see the castle anymore. All that remains where it once stood (or perhaps, usually stands) is an incongruously large tree that towers over everything else and somehow looks larger and more imposing than the castle ever did. The tree’s branches are bare, without any hint of life nor leaf – however, on the weekends (that is to say, Friday through Sunday) a faint projection of the castle appears around it, cradling the only things that the denizens of this alternate garden can see in detail from the other side: the flurry of activity around the investigation, the circus-like dimension that holds the trial, and the mirrors and the grassy dimension that display the execution.

For those curious what the land of the living are up to, a mirage-like and upside-down reflection of the castle garden in its original arrangement can be spotted occasionally overlaying the sky. This strange illusion may sometimes show those in the garden on the other side, flitting in and out of view like stray clouds; but much like the weather, their appearance is mercurial – they cannot be reached and cannot be heard.

Water, Flower, Everywhere

The fountains remain active somehow, though their features seem to have eroded, obscuring the identities of the deities and the wings of the birds, cracking pottery down into nothing but worn shards and handles. At night, only maybe half the lights work (and here they are real candlelight, rather than magical), plunging most of the garden into crepuscular darkness. The trellis walkway looks quite overgrown (mysteriously, bamboo is taking over), entirely covering some statues and other features along its length, and it’s no longer walkable – a miniature canal runs the whole length underneath the arches, feeding into other new waterways around the garden that cut off footpaths seemingly at random. There are small footbridges here and there, but the lack of logic to the whole arrangement makes falling into one of the streams or canals a real hazard.

The waterways do all manage to converge at the pond by the pavilion – neither of which are all that soothing or classical anymore. The pond is only half-full, and entirely lacks water lilies or any dragonflies; its banks sit jagged above the dark waters, and perhaps that’s why the pavilion, too, is half collapsed down into it all. Gone are the curtains and ivies; only dead curling vines and half-collapsed columns are left, but there’s still someplace to sit if you put your mind to it.

Most of the flowerbeds sit fallow or overtaken by weeds – there’s signs here and there that someone might have tried to clear them out, but the bulk of the effort seems to have gone to the orchard by the gardener’s cottage. It might be more accurate to say cottages, given that there are a few of them dotted around that area for some reason. None of them are locked, but all of them have only minimal furnishings apart from the original; they’re also all provided with the full complement of gardener’s tools. Next to them, there are new saplings and half-grown flowering trees: some pear and apple, but also some not. There are new shoots in the kitchen orchard that have just barely taken root, the dirt recently turned.

Hedge Maze(?)

The other most eye-catching feature is what once was an ornamental hedge maze: instead of being a tame height here, it has seemingly grown wild and completely unchecked, towering above the rest of the garden almost like its own overgrown mountain. The hedge walls go up and up and up, making it entirely impossible to see the center or even how far it goes despite the fact that sections of the hedges have also died, reduced to the branches underneath, bristling with interlocked thorns.

Part of it had even spilled over into the garden itself, huge gnarled branches spreading out like burnt-blackened fingers all the way to the edge of the pond – wherever the branches touch, even the greenery is withered, and any statues look more ruined than those in the rest of the area. As of the end of Week 3, however, the branches have retracted entirely and the way into the hedge maze has opened even more. However, there is now a storm brewing over what might be the center or the general area of it. Getting close to the hedge maze or any of the hedge(?) branches is... unpleasant, though it doesn’t usually go beyond a buzz of wrongness and a slight headache.

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Memories are only a piece of the puzzle, my Siffrin. Your actions, your words, the things you believe... those are what make you whole. Your memories inform that, yes, but you are more than them all the same.

[ But that isn't to say they aren't important either, and he falls into a contemplative sort of quiet, giving the idea more though. ]

Even so... how important are they to you? If you feel you need them to be whole, then that speaks for itself.

[ (If you did, then you would've wished for it.

Instead, you wished for something else, and you'll live your life searching for who you are.

...

You know he won't understand, just as only those who've been through a time loop would understand that, but... You try anyway.)

Voice quiet, a little reproachful. ]

"The things I believe" are also in those memories, Raha. The things I like, that I dislike, the pineapple I'm allergic to... I knew all of that before. [ Surely. ] I don't remember a single thing about myself, and I don't know if who I am now is-- me, or...

[ ... ]

Or... reflecting others... I guess? You could say. I've kinda drifted around like a ghost and picked up pieces that I needed. I don't even know if my name is mine. Some things feel right when I do them, but it's still...

[ ... ... ... ]

Frustrating.

[ Oh, so it's Siffrin's turn to scold him, is it? But he understands. Lack of memories isn't something he's ever had to deal with—if anything, he's had to deal with too many. ]

What does feel right? I wonder if shifting your focus to that would ease your frustrations.

[ But maybe that's not what Siffrin is looking for either.

Still, he wonders if searching for those things could lead to some sort of snowball effect of recalling what he used to be like. ]

What... makes you feel like yourself?

[ They don't know what they're looking for. It isn't like they actively seek those who know too -- they might drive themselves mad, if so, but... ]

... Working with my hands. [ Flexing them gently. ] And anything... to do with water, like swimming, sailing, fishing... I feel--

[ (Well. Raha'd put it nicely.) ]

... A... little more "me" then, I guess. Relaxed. My mind's quiet.

[ He reaches out, taking one of those hands for himself. ]

Then you can extrapolate from there. You used to go sailing, perhaps out into the open water to fish. You would allow your mind to wander and drift as you relaxed, nothing but the waves lapping against your boat to keep you company. You would spend long days, your rod in hand… or, you would set it aside and carve. At the end of the day, you might consider what you would sell or use for yourself.

[ He’s making up a whole story here with little to go on, but he hopes Siffrin understands what he means by all of this. They’re little pieces to build off of and create into a bigger picture, something that might give them an inkling of their past. ]

[ Siffrin lets him, because truthfully-- G'raha quiets his mind too, at least in the way that carving does. Rattles it in others. ]

... I'd be surprised if the sea wasn't a big part of my life. Being on an island, and all.

[ So it sounds like it makes sense, even if Siffrin doesn't feel very connected. That's only natural, maybe. It's just... trying to tell him something else, a story made of individual elements. ]

Doesn't sound much like the adventurous life you like though, sorry. You should make me more exciting. Maybe fight a kraken.

[ He plays with Siffrin’s fingers, almost absentmindedly. ]

And forego the tale of the studious scholar and the mischievous fisher meeting by happenstance one fateful morning?

[ A very shameless and over the top thing to say, he knows, but he can’t help it. ]

[ No, sorry, G'raha's activating his need for sense in a play-- ]

And what's a scholar doing down by the docks? Or maybe by the river... Also, I've never been able to wake early, so we're an evening encounter.

[ There's an amused look in his eyes, tail swishing behind him.

He has an answer. ]

When I studied in Sharlayan, I resided on a different isle. I would need to go to the docks frequently if I wanted to take a boat to the city proper.

[ Plenty of reason, then... Siffrin'll turn his head to look at him, interested. ]

Did you like it?

I took much pleasure in watching the great statue of Thaliak appear on the horizon as the ship arrived at the docks.

[ That, he liked. Seen Sharlayan in full, nestled against the continent of the Northern Empty was always a treat. ]

Paying for the trip, mind you, was not something I liked much.

[ So the arrival is what he enjoyed... Maybe not the journey so much, then. That's too bad. Siffrin kicks the one foot they have hanging idly.

(You cross it off your activities list.) ]

Ah, but knowledge is worth every coin, isn't it? [ Yes, that's a tease.

... Though he turns back to watching the garden after. Softer, more wistful. ] It's pretty freeing. Nothing beats the sky out on the sea.

[ It is, but he's not going to embarrass himself by saying as much. ]

An open space as far as the eye can comprehend it, filled with a stark blue if not the colors of the sunset or the sunrise. [ He squeezes their fingers. ] I would like to see it with you.

[ It's cheesy, but he really can't help it. This is just who he is. ]

[ (You uncross it.) ]

You won't be looking for land the whole time?

[ There's a small, mischievous glint in his eyes, a playfulness in the way his tail swishes. ]

Why would I, when I could look at you instead?

[ (You cross it off again.)

Siffrin's cheeks darken, and their gaze remains Forward, Thank You. ]

Because there's so much else to see, Raha... like fish jumping out of the water, and seagulls diving for their meal. And, uh. [ ... ] The sun. On... the waves, it's fun to watch. So.

[ He leans forward, and while it's not exactly in Siffrin's space, it's an attempt to get them to look at him. ]

There is no reason I cannot look at the scenery and at you, is there?

[ Not this again.......... They're biting back a smile, turning away just a bit more. ]

I guess not. But if you miss a whale, I'm not telling you.

I hardly think I would miss a whale.

[ But maybe he would. It's hard to say, after all. He would miss a riot in the garden below right now, what with how focused he is on that hint of a smile.

It's like before, in the Reflexion. He simply can't stop staring. ]

[ ... This is stupid. Siffrin'll turn to face him, letting his other leg drop in favor of straddling the branch too. ]

I'll take you sailing, free of charge. And teach you some, too. Reading out at sea sounds nice.

[ He tugs on Siffrin's hand, a silent bid to bring him closer. ]

I would like to learn. I have an inkling that you might be a talented instructor, passionate and eager as you guide me through the steps.

[ ... ]

Reading amongst the waves would be nice, as well.

[ A bid they all too easily answer, scooting towards him. Hi. ]

I don't know about talented, if I can't explain how to do it very well... but I'll do my best.

[ Because it'd be nice, to share something with him. Beyond their love of tales and adventure in all forms. And... there are few things closer to Siffrin's heart than sailing, as heavy as it weighs all the same.

(You almost miss the hedge maze, now. How it had offered you a vision and torn it away the next moment.)

It dims his smile, just a bit, but before G'raha can ask about it Siffrin'll lean in to hide it with a kiss, unobtrusive as someone waiting at the door. Exactly what someone's supposed to do in a tree with their crush. ]

[ He can't deny a kiss, as soft and addicting as their lips are, and so he returns it, letting them inside. It's easy like this, to tilt his head to the angle he's learned feels the best for the both of them as his hand cups their cheek, like he's asking them to stay the night.

But he pulls away, only a mere few centimeters, yet too much space all the same. ]

We shall do as much sailing as you like.

[ He had seen that smile dim, after all, and Siffrin should expect by now that G'raha doesn't let things slip by. ]

[ Stars, as if Siffrin could ever refuse. Just being close with G'raha is more than enough to get him to say yes. The space is akin to keeping the window cracked, and he huffs softly against G'raha's lips with a small, affectionate nuzzle. ]

You'll get seasick of it.

[ A joke and truth in one. ]

... I'll teach you how to fish out on the ocean, too. Instead of regular bait, we use sail-lures.

[ He closes the gap for another peck, smiling against Siffrin's lips before moving away more fully. ]

I have heard much and more about ocean fishing, so I am eager for your lessons.

[ The Warrior of Light is... oddly into it, but never enough to pique G'raha's interest. Learning from Siffrin, however, is a different story.

He scoots back, settling against the trunk of the tree, and motions for Siffrin to come forward. They can rest together up here without worry of being caught and embarrassed. ]

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