12 ~ Persephone

There was an obscure anxiety at first. It blossomed over time in a flower of dark shades, with doubts and sadness staining every petal.

She felt loss struck, and so weak, she was unable to wake up or speak.

Her voice... It wasn’t her mother’s voice anymore.

R - You can’t hear me... Can you?

Someone else spoke. He was asking her something.

R - Herson. Like her.

Another person speaking. If she couldn’t understand, she could feel the worry they somehow felt. She heard it when she meekly replied.

R - How long?

Not long. She doesn’t have much more time.

The voice grew more emotional.

R - No... She can’t... You cannot die... You...

You have a promise to keep, no matter what happens.

Don’t lie to me!

The other person spoke again, trying to sound reassuring. She spoke?

R - What did she say?

Just giving her name, and asking a question.

R - Blue? She asked for Blue? But it’s...

~

Hearing that voice again, Mary-Esther woke up.

The voice seemed close when she was hearing it in her sleep, but so distant now that she was fully awaken...

She woke up in her bed with the feeling of losing something again. Again she couldn’t quite remember what she had dreamt of. Only did she recall that she heard the voice of someone close to her, and that this dream had been different perhaps.

She could remember that there was a rose in that dream. There was a blue flower that definitely looked like a rose...

It took her a minute to get over her morning dizziness. She wasn’t willing to spend much time wondering about a forgotten dream.

Some of the dust and powdered ashes was still sticking to her skin here and there. She was still dirty and didn’t like it. She dressed herself up nonetheless and picked up everything she had left there.

Blue yawned and climbed on her arm easily as usual. Her bird was still and always with her.

Mary-Esther left her room, wanting to reach the engine room once and for all. She would also grab a rose from a garden on the way, to play along with Elise’s recipe.

If it wasn’t meant to produce anything logical, at least it might help her remembering something else to do so.

That reason alone was sufficient to give it a try and gather the seemingly meaningless components. She was certainly not expecting any magic spell to occur once the recipe would be completed.

Thinking of the word magic, it reminded her of Elise calling her a witch. It had been hurtful... She still felt sorry for how much the girl had been hurt, physically by Blue and emotionally by her.

A witch who stole Blue... From what she could recall, Blue had always been hers alone.

Was that a mistake?

Anyway... It was probably the last time that she went through the restaurant. She hoped as much.

The morning lights were still low through the mist outside. It felt as if she was in a sleeping house.

Everything was still a little dim around.

Today, she swore to herself she would leave this so called home behind.

It was not hers. She had more important things, away, elsewhere. Dreams. Of travelling through the world maybe.

Outside at least.

Passing through, she felt she was already a little nostalgic for some reason. As if she had known this place for too long already, and therefore felt a little pinch at the thought of her imminent departure.

Although there was no one left to say goodbye to.

She went slowly onward, one wagon after another, a stairway after another. She wasn’t rushing herself, and she was more confident now that she knew the layout already pretty well.

Mary-Esther reached the art gallery in the eleventh wagon.

There she saw the painting Blue had noticed before. The one with a single blue rose hidden among various other species of roses.

She could remember some of the meaning for that flower, the one she learned of when her father was still around...

The dream of a pure and everlasting true love, between two married persons.

But the sad irony was that this flower did not exist. Some might say that the flower meant therefore the wish to see something impossible occur nonetheless. The truth was it meant that true love did not exist either.

Something Mary-Esther could not stand and agree with... Even if love stories were not her preferred cup of tea.

She never accepted that a beautiful and somehow romantic love could not exist. That it would never be somewhat real like any other flower. A love strong enough to withstand the direst situations, the most fearful times, and to thrive against all odds in the world...

She believed in that existence more than in God.

It must exist, even if no one heard of it.

Only someone sick and sad would decide to give a tainted meaning to the blue rose, knowing it would never be reached. She disliked the hopelessness and sadness hidden behind the poetry of the blue rose...

This was another reason why she wanted to follow the recipe. Even if a false one, she wanted to prove something by trying to create one. She wanted to prove it was worth believing in love, even if only for herself to see it...

The meaning of the thing was too important to her. If she had to live by the laws of men and nature, then at least that flower had to exist.

Otherwise, she would write other laws...

She would give another meaning to the blue rose, and find another flower to give it the meaning of pure and long lasting love. Everlasting love even. She would make the world know that the previous meanings of impossibility were wrong.

If she could make a blue rose blossom, she would prove that some dreams can be fulfilled, even against fearful odds.

And the world might learn something from it.

That flower and its picture of loved had been out of existence for too long. She would make it become real somehow, or change its meaning. One material way or a metaphorical other, a blue rose would be. She now wanted it more than anything, and felt now that she would never give up on this.

~

Mary-Esther went through the burnt greenhouse. She had to hold Blue tight because of a strong wind and made it through properly.

In the following muddy greenhouse, she had to fight her way against the same wind, only carrying rain as well.

Blue was nervous.

They went through the strong rain and reached the next staircase. There she let Blue fly a little around to dry its wings, while she could dry her clothes and rearrange herself a little. She was stained all over from the mud and drenched from the water.

Looking through a window, she noticed it was still raining outside now. Heavy clouds had replaced the morning mist in the scenery.

After wringing her clothes for a few minutes, and her hair, she walked further. Blue caught up with her and they headed into the spring rose garden.

She wasn’t willing to take a last look downstairs in the summer one. She feared she would feel too sick again.

The place hadn’t changed at all in spring, and the perfume there was already strong enough to make her feel a little drunk already.

She held onto the first arch not to fall. Her head felt like it was spinning. She felt as if her heart just stopped when Blue suddenly flew away from her arm. It went ahead in a swift fly. She was feeling sick meanwhile.

She felt her pulse going out of control. She panicked. She ran to the next exit to escape this poisonous place. She opened the door feeling as if she was about to vomit. She called Blue back with a meeker voice. Thankfully it came right away so she could step outside and close the door before losing balance.

Mary-Esther breathed a little better in that airlock. Blue seemed fine however. She wondered if perhaps it could pluck a flower for her? That would make things easier, but could she explain to a bird what she wanted it to do? It could certainly not understand that much her words.

She sighed. The truth was she actually knew nearly nothing about the taming of birds of prey. Her left arm now strong enough to carry easily the bird without pain was all she had, as if she had done it all her life.

But she would have to pick up the flower herself. Why was it suddenly so hard a feat to accomplish to grab and pull a flower away? For some reason this had become a serious challenge for her to collect that ingredient.

She left Blue behind. Holding her breath and almost closing her eyes, she hastily went back into the garden and the nearest flowers. She scratched her hands on the thorns again, but she managed to break a stem, while feeling so strange she wasn’t sure about where she was anymore.

Everything around her seemed to be fleeing or melting. She was beginning to panic, but saw and remembered about Blue just behind. She made it back, unsteadily, the perfume getting to her head and her heart again.

Looking at the rose she held was again making her painfully sad. She hid it in her pocket to forget it for a while.

She took her breathe back next to Blue for a moment. Waiting for her perceptions to stabilise.

Then she would go further.

~

Hopefully, she would not need to go again through any of the gardens. It helped her feeling better thinking that.

She went across the condemned floor and reached the seventeenth wagon.

How many more to go worried her. This was the farthest she’d been yet. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be a hundred more to go... She prayed for it to soon be over, hopefully already being closer to the head than the tail of this train.

Facing the hollowness of that floor meanwhile, she took a few seconds to think about her progress elsewhere. For that recipe, she still missed the dust, from the things probably, and her own tears.

She wasn’t too worried about getting the later seeing how stressful existing in this place had been so far... For the dust however, awaiting nightfall would be the easiest way to proceed, with the risks of oblivion it implied.

It was also the only way she knew to face these things.

But meanwhile, she thought smarter to simply go further.

She still had a shiver, from her cold wet dress and from the veil of unknown ahead of her.

The last time, there were so many of these ashy things that the place was flooded with a cloud of ashes. She recalled the waves filling the place, almost swallowing and digesting it...

But today stepping into the same place, it was as if nothing ever happened.

It was just empty, making her uncomfortable. That same carpet remained everywhere. The same scenery was passing behind the windows. The sky was turning to a darker Payne’s grey as rain was falling, now making a strange ruckus against the glass from the windows. That downpour starting was almost covering the constant noise of the rolling train.

The vehicle continued on its way, digging through that stormy weather, unfazed by the elements.

Mary-Esther tried to control her fear and proceeded in, carefully crossing the empty room toward its staircase. She held onto Blue to reassure herself like a child would onto their stuffed animal.

For a while, it felt as if she was in a building rather than a train going quite fast. The floor felt static and more quiet as she walked. Only the rain was pouring down outside and hitting the windows.

The door ahead was locked she could recall, remembering vividly how awful it felt figuring it out in the emergency. It probably still was and it was already painful enough for her to watch her steps in that vacant room. She felt as if she was walking on thin ice. Emptiness made her feel as if she could fall through at any second randomly, to suffer a terrifying agony... It summarised her phobia well, walking on thin ice and at night.

She reached the stairs and sat there for a minute to breath, closing her eyes for a moment. It had been hard, but she still had apprehension for what would come next.

Reaching the stairs from the third floor then was an easy thing. Crossing the whole fourth empty floor to reach the next end door would be much more of an ordeal.

She had to stay brave, keeping her hold over herself. She had to move on, for herself, and for the blue rose...

She kept repeating that sentence. The meaning of the symbolic flower was all that mattered, and right now it was giving her some courage.

What was behind probably was a promise... One that mattered more than anything.

Well, anything after Blue perhaps.

She opened her eyes to look at her friend the beautiful and proud bird. Her only friend left... She owed it so much. She was so grateful to it. She was ready to do so much just for Blue...

Blue was waiting, standing at her side without moving at all, almost too obedient to be real. She almost had a doubt for a second, but when she touched it, the bird moved its head in reaction and opened its beak to let a short shriek out. She smiled. She was a fool to have even the shadow of a doubt about Blue being real.

She told it a few reassuring words that were more meant to convince herself than the bird that they should move on.

But she was aware she wouldn’t have made it this far on her own without Blue...

She felt a little sick from the coldness over her skin and coughed again. Her voice sounded a little husky now. She might really get sick for good, which worried her a little.

Blue got closer and climbed on her left arm as usual. She smiled and stood up, holding the arm steady.

Turning around, she climbed the stairs toward the fourth floor, the only one with a door left to try.

If the door ahead was also locked, she would need to find another way to go further. That would imply finding tools to break some of the locked doors open perhaps.

She swallowed and walked across the awfully empty space again. But there, in the end of this large hallway was something unexpected to look at.

The last door ominously set so far away from the stairway was surrounded by a few paintings set against the walls. The subjects depicted were easy to recognise or guess at this point.

She walked nervously and cautiously toward it. Her heart rate was maybe twice faster than its usual pace. Even her inner voice was shaky when she was trying to reassure herself.

Everything is alright... Nothing bad was going to happen... Don’t worry and keep walking. Blue is with you...

She was trying to reassure herself with spoken prayers, voicing out in a tone lacking confidence how things should go... The bird was waiting silently on her arm, giving her some strength. It didn’t mind very much what was happening most of the time.

Mary-Esther prayed that she could be outside soon. Her voice trembling even more at every step.

M - Stay brave Mary... Soon you will leave this place... Right Blue? Soon we will be free...

She disregarded the awful weather outside and the paintings on her sides, to reach the door’s handle. It wouldn’t open.

Disbelief and surprise became fear. She panicked. The door was locked! Blue left her unsteady arm for a moment as she was becoming violent against this obstacle. However she wasn’t nearly strong enough to break the lock inside the door. She screamed and lost her temper for a while.

She begged for help as if she had been locked up in a cell with a dangerous monster. She tried everything she could think of to pass this damned door, but nothing she could do would be of any use.

In blind anger and despair following the moment of panic, she took the paintings off from the walls and broke their frames against the door. She crushed everything she could find against it, also sick of looking at these pictures of the Ertuğrul over and over again...

When everything at hand had turned to waste at her feet, piling up like rubbish, she had no other choice but to step back and wait to calm down.

She wasn’t fit to cross the empty room again right away. She had no other choice however, but to consider turning back made her feel awful...

She sat against the door, tired, trying to catch her breath and her cool back.

She saw more clearly the rubbish she had made around her. Calming down, she had to admit that she was now no better than her two ageless sisters...

She had thought of them as being childish at first, for acting so weirdly and turning upside down that restaurant... But now, she hadn’t done any better. Maybe they had time to feel the same and lay waste to a place or two before she arrived.

Elise and Scarlett might have broken everything in the restaurant at the tail of the train in a burst of anger not unlike hers right now... She wondered what they were all doing there...

She felt sad and tired. Her mood could change more rapidly lately, and it was also tiring somehow.

Blue came to her, walking, to get cuddled. She petted it, but she was still thinking.

Recalling the restaurant, she wondered if perhaps they had done the same journey as her, but going in the opposite direction? If they became angry like her now, because they were also forced to admit being stuck, unable to go anywhere else and afraid.

What was beyond in that direction? The rooms. The balcony probably.

A door leading outside?

Did she try that door again? Mary-Esther tried to recall whether she did.

And then without realising, the thought suddenly slipped away from her mind.

She had suddenly no recollection about that door or the question she asked herself. She felt lost for a moment, and then her focus shifted to something else naturally just after.

She was wondering about the journey the dead might have to make in there...

Was she moving in the opposite direction from Scarlett and Elise? Maybe they entered the train from its head, and looked for an exit at its rear end, while she was trying to go the other way around?

The thought exercise felt wrong and pointless after a while. But so few things didn’t end up feeling like that at some point... She felt exhausted, sighing again.

She hid her face between her arms and knees. Reaching a wall after crossing the ordeal of a void, she had lost her willpower, leaving her unable to leave this awful room...

She felt that she was falling asleep or unconscious. She was feeling concerned, but mostly sad at that moment.

An unusual thought came to her as she was letting slumber embracing her. A last prayer in a sigh.

She prayed for her mother, wherever she was, to help her... She begged her.

Her eyelids didn’t reopen, closing for good today. Blue joined her for a nap next to her.

Night fell around. The rain slowed down, but inks and shadows of other kinds began pouring down the sky and across the scenery.

Everything turned to its night counterpart.

Mary-Esther fell silently on her side in the dark.

~