Papaver Somniferum 14th day of Winter, 510 AV It was morning time, and Brian took an early start of the upcoming day. Though obscured, Riverfall once again succeeded to enthrall him. It was winter, but he was standing on top of the cliff, mesmerized by the healing power rain had over him. There was something about the rain that somehow always managed to make him levitate within his own slumberous mind. He never really understood it, but then again- he never really tried. It was unaccountable, and unusual, but it was something of his own, and a part of him he'd never give away. The sky was dark grey, and it seemed closer to the ground than it had ever been before. The air was heavy, filled with large drops of water power and unclaimed words. Brian was standing still, yet running as fast as he could. Running from the past that had been sternly haunting him all those years. It was finally the time to stop running and confront the bloody scoundrel. „Mother...“, he whispered. Nothing. „Mother!“ Nothing. „MOTHER!!!“ Falling down onto his knees, in the agonizing release of the repressed dolour, he heard it. And once again, for his own sake, he lifted his head and...He saw her. „Brian...“ „Mother?“ It was one tense, over-emotional and taut moment. „Why did you leave, you peace of ungrateful, slobbering ...?!“ „Wait...What?“ Oh, Brian expected everything, but that. All those years of apartness, and that was all there had been? An old, somber lady and her overwhelming manifestation of wrath? „You heard me. You petchin' debauch!“ The shock was clearly visible on his face. He just stood there speechless. „Mother?“ No response. And no mother. There was just him, standing on the cliff. „What the...?“ He turned around, and tried to focus his sight and mind to objects around him. There was no one there. Not a soul. „I don't understand. And look at me, now I am talking to myself. Lovely.“ The flakiness of the moment couln't prevent his ironical grin from appearing. „It's this damn place! And this damn rain! Oh, smite me, Almighty!“ It could be considered a comical scene, if something wasn't really going on. He turned around and started heading home, bewildered and befuddled. Then he saw it. Papaver Somniferum. It was elegantly sticking out of the wet-snow-covered grass. Attractive, yet somehow sinister. Brian read about it somewhere. It was a sort of plant whose opium induced halucinations. When a certain time would come, the plant would wake up and start producing the opium until the air completely fills with it's intoxicating fragrance. It was winter, and it was the time. „Oh, snap...Well, at least I ain't going nuts.“ He put his hand over his mouth to minify the dosage of P.Somniferum's fragrance, and used the other hand to pick the plant up and take it home. While he was pacing home, firmly clenching his botanical treasure in hands, everything around him started to spin and waggle. It was the vicinity of the opium that made his halucinations go even worse. By the time he got home, he saw innumerable simulacrums, motions and heard as many sounds and tones, but he didn't panic. He was aware of the harmful effect of the plant in his possesion. Never was he as jovial to see his home but then. It was right there, and it looked normal. It was all he could have asked for. He entered, and started looking for a big, heavy book to have the plant compressed. When he got it over, he took a seat and some time to clear his head. He was becoming sleepy, and deciced to lay down and have a nap. Brian didn't know how long had he slept, but he did know something woke him up. Voices. „Return...Give...Back...“ „Who is it?!“ Silence. Brian repeated the question. Nothing. „Return...Mother Nature's daughter.“ „What the ..Ooh.“ He understood it. Although he wasn't sure if it was the same hallucinogen effect he'd had to confront before, or something more, he knew he wanted it done and gone. The voice spoke again. „Give it back, Briaaaan...“ There was something ireful and huffish in the voice this time. Brian's over-analyzing mind let him down that day, as he wasn't able to think rationally as usual. So there was just one option left – to subject to the voices. Or whatever that was. He took the red beauty, Papaver Somniferum, and headed back to the cliff. His mind was still under the influence of the opium, so he smiled all the way, and didn't give anything at all a thought. When he got to the cliff, he threw the plant from to top and watched it evanesce in the raging power of the waterfalls, with an absent, yet malevolent grin on his face. „There! There is your sweet daughter, Mother!“ Walking home, he noticed how the air was lighter and sweeter, and how his power of analyzing was coming back. It was good to be back. „Home, sweet home! Aaah...“ He sat down and opened a bottle of wine. „Briaaaaaan....“ „Oh, bloody hell.“ |