Tarragon

Chapter Eight: The Will of the World

-Net

I was starting to get mind-numbingly bored. Rerolling rooms and exploring the occasional natural wonder could only get you so far. It felt like the 2020 quarantine all over again. (A bit more information: Despite what a lot of people guessed early on, dragons aren't immune to Covid. While it had a lower spread, our abilities of transportation counteracted that substantially. It also had certain side effects when interacting with parasites, and in the 12 or so cases of dragons fused with their parasites getting it, the parasites either didn't care about it, or made active efforts to protect the body from it.)

Amnoia and I sat in front of the stone wall, waiting for a universal bit to flip.

"You think Spatial Defiance Zones are one big elaborate joke to see the extremes that dragons will push themselves to in order to escape?" Amnoia asked me, their head hanging low, before they yawned.

"Probably. Whatever the case is, someone needs to figure out a better way of escaping-" I was about to finish talking, when suddenly, the door vanished. A tight tunnel covered in moss, vines, and orange flowers appeared in front of us. Amnoia placed down a peg, and tied it to the previous rope.

I crouched down, and slid aside the large vines, pulling my wings tight, as I made short strides through the tunnel. After a moment, I heard the sound of slow, running water, and emerged into a much more open cave.

It was tall. The room seemed miles tall, vines stretched across the chasm we rested at the bottom of, flowers dotted the sides of the chasm. Amnoia popped out, and immediately rushed over to a flower.

They seemed almost entranced by it. It was certainly an impressive one. When I said flower, I should have specified a flower as big as a dragon.

The fully grown ones seemed to be orange and pink, and red, like a sunset. They had six large overlapping petals which stretched out. Three small, neon orange stick-like structures with bulbs at the top, that you would see in regular flowers, stuck out from the middle. There was a goopy orange substance coming out from the center. I guessed it to be the flower's nectar.

But what would pollinate something this deep underground? Or, what if it wasn't? How close were we to the surface?

I looked up to the sky, and flailed around a bit, trying to get Amnoia's attention.

"Net? Are you having a seizure, or do you want my attention?" Amnoia asked me, with a confused look on their face.

"Flowers, pollination, photosynthesis, sunlight," I listed off, trying to get my point without forming a real sentence.

Their eyes lit up, and they looked up above. It did seem bright up there...

We both took off in an instant, weaving through vines, taking all of the extra effort it took to fly upwards.

Go back. I heard something whisper. Or, was it a thought? I felt compelled to go down, but the allure of freedom far outweighed any subconscious messaging I would be receiving.

"I swear!" Amnoia shouted, "If this doesn't lead to the surface, I'm going to go sacrifice myself to Sycophare!"

I grabbed onto a vine, and landed on it. I had lost track of how high I had gone. I needed a moment to catch my breath before I continued going up. Amnoia landed next to me on the vine after a moment, with something green on their face.

"Did you run into a vine?" I asked them.

"At least three. I don't know how you do it, flying so tightly," Amnoia joked to themself.

"You get that kind of thing down after... spending your whole life living in forests. Tight flying, and quick adjustments become second nature." I told them. I stretched my wings, and flung myself further up. I heard their wingbeats below, and continued ascending the chasm.