Missing Link VI

6Aria and I navigated our way through the cloud garden, an expanse divided into six distinct sections, each denoted by the cardinal directions. The north, southeast, northwest, southwest, east, and west—each realm unique in its own right. The garden's layout mirrored the library but surpassed it in size, connected by broad pavements and imbued with an ethereal charm.Our journey brought us toward the southwest section. The pavements led the way, branching off toward four different regions. Notably, to access the southern section, we diverged from the main path. This route held an intriguing quality—it wasn't as illuminated as the other areas, instead enveloped in a subtle haze that draped it in an enigmatic allure. The color palette of this domain, a deep and endless dark green, painted the space with an air of mystery.I suspected the garden's ability to control weather was at play here, casting a shroud of change over each section. Despite the veiled sky above, the ground remained discernible. Intriguing tree-like plants sprung forth at the entrance, their myriad forms and sizes an enchanting sight.In the southwest, a grove of trees greeted us, their heights and spacing creating a picturesque tableau. Amidst the array of arboreal beauty, one tree stood as a sentinel, towering above the rest. It exuded a commanding presence, a ruler amongst its brethren. An aurora of light illuminated it from above, casting a dance of luminous curtains through the clouded atmosphere. This tree demanded attention, its roots curving outward in a testament to its vitality.As we ventured closer, a greenhouse unveiled itself beneath the canopy of this majestic tree. The structure mimicked a tree's shape, its form nestling seamlessly against its botanical counterpart. Nestled atop a gentle slope, the greenhouse stood adorned with vibrant flowering patches, a testament to nature's artistic palette.A glass slide door beckoned at the base of a cylindrical structure, framed by a mosaic of glass screens in varying sizes and configurations. The greenhouse's architecture blended accessibility with security, its open-air design coexisting harmoniously with its air-tight construction.Upon entering, a familiar sight greeted us—a figure poised in thought atop wooden stairs, reminiscent of 'The Thinker.' It was Loy, a white-haired boy with azure eyes, lost in contemplation. My curiosity piqued, I queried, "What are you doing, Loy?"Loy seemed unaware of his blockade and our presence, but recognition soon dawned as he rose and exclaimed, "Blur, you're back!" I heaved a deep sigh and looked up and down with what appeared to be a dead fish's expression, but at that precise moment, his expression shifted from contemplative to one of relief, as if salvation had arrived in the form of our return."You want to know what I'm doing" he exclaimed happily."Well, it's not like I really want to know" I said, realizing that what was about to happen wasn't something I wanted to be a part of. But it was too late; he kept going despite my ignorance.I silently muttered, "Here he goes again," as I disregarded his tributes and went to the greenhouse."I looked for the ideal subject for my drawing, but they all seemed to have been done before, and none of them seemed to capture the essence of what it means to be perfect, so I thought, if I want to draw a perfect piece, why don't I become the perfect piece? So I wandered around looking for the ideal location for drawing and ended up in the greenhouse, and that's when it dawned on me. I'm on my own to draw it because I lost my sense of craftsmanship and, sadly, fell into the abyss…"His voice carried throughout the entire greenhouse, resembling a priest reciting a sutra. Loy's words flowed, a river of musings that wove through the space.Meanwhile, the greenhouse unfolded in a tapestry of vibrant vegetation. The atmosphere was humid, the temperature somewhat cooler than the outside world. A multitude of plants graced the space, their diverse colors and forms arranged in a harmonious dance. Some shimmered like precious gems under the gentle light, their brilliance a testament to nature's artistry.An adjacent wooden cabin held fresh produce, fruit, vegetables, and grains—all nestled beside one another in welcoming harmony. With a swift exploration of the offerings, Aria and I procured the ingredients we needed.Emerging from the greenhouse, we found Loy stretched out on the grass, the voice of his contemplative chant now absent. Distributing the ingredients, I beckoned, "There you are, help us carry this." Loy's response was marked by a hint of sadness, a complaint against the lack of attention.Nevertheless, he accepted the task, shouldering the burden of ingredients as we departed for our picnic area.