Tsaimath
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Interlude: Survivors 701
🕑 Added 2024-04-15 16:00:15 +0000 UTCNo matter how often it happened, waking up within a tree would never cease to be weird. Or maybe it would, one day, but in the hundred-odd days since the world stopped making sense, it hadn’t stopped yet. It might happen once the nightmares of burning skies and the brutal, gut-wrenching and soul-searing pain that came with them faded, swallowed by the deep darkness of oblivion but as things were, waking up within a tree remained weird.
Especially when it happened after one of the frequent nightmares he was suffering under since it had happened. Dreams of a party, of drinking just a little too much, of walking home because there was no cab to be found until the world suddenly shifted on its axis.
There had been conspiracy theories about the magnetic poles flipping, of aliens and all kinds of madness abound, many of which had a minuscule grain of truth in them if one just looked at them from just the right, or wrong, angle. A grain that was often spun into an insane fantasy, perfect to amuse the masses and appease the desire of those spinning these tales to be special but there had, to the best of his knowledge, been no conspiracy theory about burning skies, certainly not with strange, translucent blue fire. And yet, that was exactly what had happened.
Burning skies, blue fire and, stronger than any other sensation he had ever experienced, pain. Searing pain ripped through his body, tearing screams of agony from his throat and leaving him breathless, mindless, numb from the pain.
And that was where things had started to get weird. As in, really weird, to the point that the memories had a strange, dream-like quality to them, making him wonder if they were truth, elaborate fantasy or simply a figment of his imagination, a refuge in which his mind hid to escape the pain. Maybe this was all some strange dream and his body was lying somewhere in a hospital, catatonic from the pain he had experienced. The tragic thing was, he wasn’t sure if such an existence, a body kept alive through the miracles of modern medicine but devoid of a mind, wouldn’t be the better option, compared to the reality around him. Well, maybe not better for him, to him, it was insanity either way, but to the rest of the world. If this was merely a figment of his imagination, then the rest of the world was still turning as it used to.
But regardless of whether it was fantasy or not, imagination or not, the only way to endure this existence was to treat it as if it was real, at least until there was an indication that he might be able to escape and return to the world as he knew it. As it used to be.
So, he had accepted the strange, blue windows, he had accepted that his body was completely different from what it used to be, he had even accepted that he was now bound to a large oak tree, maybe the tree he had leaned against as the pain had tried to tear him apart. He had accepted all of that, he even managed to force himself to accept that he was apparently now a dryad and, according to the strange blue windows, thus a girl because dryads only came in one gender. Amusingly, it wasn’t even a question of sex for dryads, they were like trees in that regard, but one of mentality and he had noticed a shift in his.
Not a rapid shift but a gradual one, as things that he remembered from his old life ceased to make sense while other things, mostly those to do with the greenery around him and his tree, started to become easy and instinctive. Just as instinctive as the desire to protect his tree, as he knew that the tree was just as much part of him as his body, two sides of a coin or something like that. The body he now primarily identified with and used to move around was important but so was the tree. Just that the tree body was limited in the ways it could defend itself.
Another part of that shift was an instinctive knowledge that there was someone, or maybe something, nearby that he should protect. Not as important as his tree but important in its own right, more important on a large scale but for him, as an individual, his tree was more important.
Knowing that his mobile body had started to explore the area around the tree, both amused and amazed at how much the world had changed. Initially, he hadn’t been sure how long he had slept within the trunk of his tree before emerging for the first time, it might have been hours, maybe a few days but, from the state of the architecture he could see in the distance, it might have been centuries. Later, he learned that it had been three days, a number that caused strange memories to flicker in his mind, memories of a different time, but the memories weren’t important. What was important was that he, alongside a few others who apparently had undergone a change similar to his, had begun working together to help those who couldn’t help themself. More bodies for the community meant more help in the garden and, later, more hands to protect their trees.
Soon, he also found something that had driven him to explore. Or, again, the one whom he was drawn to protect, a sensation shared by all the people who had changed like he had but, curiously, one that wasn’t instinctively understood by the people they had taken into their garden and inducted into their community. It was another dryad but there was something different about her, something that he, and the other dryads, could immediately sense but were unable to make sense of. Mima, as she was called, was important and quite powerful in her own right, but, strangely, she was completely lacking in other ways.
One of which was knowledge, she knew some things but was completely ignorant in others, making him and a few of the other dryads wonder what had happened to her. Not that it ultimately mattered, all of them wanted to protect her, needed to protect her, the instinctive drive was, as one of the others who apparently used to be a mother joked, as strong as the drive of a mother to protect her children. Whatever that meant in context, he wasn’t sure but he knew that little Mima was important to him.
And so, the dryads started to work together, slowly shifting their trees, a seemingly impossible task that had taken weeks for him and for others was still ongoing, moving the trees they were bound to closer together, allowing them to concentrate their efforts and powers. While making it so that Mima’s tree was in the centre, and thus the best-protected spot within the cluster, was the primary purpose of their slow migration, the side benefits were not to be underestimated.
With so many of them moving into the same area, some coming from far away, others from nearby, they passively changed the world. As more of them joined their community and made their way to them, the trees and plants in the area started to become more powerful, adding yet another element to their defence. The change to the flora was further exploited when Mima started to direct the various dryads in strange ways, having them shift and morph things at her direction but they could see and feel that it worked. They were creating something that would protect them and their community, even if they didn’t really understand what it was or how it worked.
But with these lessons, especially those in shaping wood and plants to their desire, the dryads had another arrow in their quiver to help their community. They began to shape some of the trees so they would give shelter to the people while making sure that the trees they were altering weren’t harmed. Instead, they began to incorporate the faint amount of power the people were constantly giving off, like body heat, into the trees, allowing their arboreous friends to draw power from those they were sheltering.
That power, in turn, allowed the trees to grow larger and stronger, making some of the dryads wonder if they should accept a mortal or two into their trees. None of them had gone that far but the idea was there. So, for now, they kept subtly altering the people they were living with while working to make their community better.
It was a fascinating process, especially once Mima noticed and started to help and it was a process that also changed the people themself. It was quite interesting to watch, especially when they began to change physically. Slowly and not a whole lot in the grand scheme of things, but change they did. Luckily, they all changed at the same time and in the same way, preventing ostracisation of those who were changing and different, as they all were.
All in all, life was good. Strange but quite good for the circumstances they all were in.
