Nature's Reckoning

Brian had never ventured into this part of town. The path was a rugged affair, winding through the skeletal remains of a forest. Moss had claimed the irregular stones, weaving them into a treacherous carpet. The intensity of the green was startling. Maybe it was just a regular green, but, in this world of muted tones, it was a splash of vibrant life, a jarring contrast to the bleak surroundings. It evoked memories of the parks, now lost to the aftermath of the Events. Brian longed for those Sunday mornings when families flocked to the park near his home, their laughter mingling with the patter of children's feet and the joyful barks of dogs. A riot of greens, blues, yellows, and pinks. Now, this moss was the closest he would come to such a spectacle.

I just want to lay down, he thought, but his survival instinct prevailed. No stopping without shelter. Please, God, guide me, he prayed silently, reaching for his cross. His fingers closed on a church card instead. Desperation took over him as he searched his other pocket, to no avail. A frantic search followed. Brian's heart pounded in his ears, a shiver ran down his spine. He had to find it, otherwise there was no going back. The church would never let him enter the city again without it. Everyone knew, card and cross that's all you need to come across. The church was the gatekeeper to the city's resources, and without their approval, stamped on the card and verified by the cross, you were as good as dead.

Crunched against the floor, every step he took was harder than the previous. His knees trembled, his arms felt like lead, and his head swam with dizziness. Fear coated his tongue with a metallic bitterness, a sour taste of panic. Cold sweat beaded on his brow, trickling down his temples, each droplet an icy messenger of terror. The once vibrant moss now seemed a sickly green. As tired as a prey running from its predator, Brian tried to get up and regain focus, but he went up to fast. His head didn't like it and made him collapse. He felt the irregular stones on his back. It wasn't as hard as one would think, the moss helped on smoothing the sharp edges and provided a relaxing surface. Now, he had a chance to look at the sky. Soon the gray will be conquered by the black. If there were any stars it would have been good news for him, they could guide him somewhere. But nowadays, you hardly get to see any of them. The moon, too, had vanished. The Events had stolen the night sky.

After depression, comes acceptance. Brian needed to find a place to stay the night. Looking around for a lead on where to go, all he found was the gray carcass of a forest. There was no use on staying down anymore, so he got up and continued looking for a way in. In what it seemed a very far away land, a house emerged in his sight. The possibility of anything living there was very slim, but for a man lost and without any hope, it was something to reach. His only chance. There was no other option than walking towards it.

In the midst of the walk, Brian was lost in a labyrinth of memories. Everything around reminded him of the time when the Events started. After the first one, his mother banned TV. They only broadcast misfortunes nowadays, she used to say. When the second one struck, they didn't expect it, they weren't prepared. Devastation reigned. Water gushed from ruptured pipes, while the wind, a mighty entity, ripped away half the roof. His mother couldn't resist anymore and slumped the floor of the kitchen, resigned. "Run and go to your uncle's house. You are strong. God will be with you. He will help you".

Such a waste of last words. Not even two Gods could help him on that mission. Each step was a battle. Trying to run on those conditions felt like being hit by a thousand nails every second. Water lapped at his ankles, turning the run from arduous to absurd. The rain made it impossible to see clearly ahead. Desperation fueled his flight as he prayed for God to help him reach his uncle. He just needed a little help, just this one time. But nature, indifferent to his plea, tripped him to his knees with a cruel current. There was no way to go from here. Rainfall and tears in conjunction streaming from his face. Please, God, just this one time. That's when the wind decided his fate with a force that snatched him from his watery grave, spinning him like a discarded toy. The mighty entity made young Brian meet his fate with a bone-shattering crash against the wooden surface. Flattened and half-drowned in the raging torrent, the only thing visible above was the towering church cross. Oh, what he would give to go back and relive this day. Had he known, he could have prepared. He could have saved his mother. But it was too late. Something was dragging him. Or someone. He couldn't tell at this point. The ground beneath him was now different, still cold but not watery. It was calmer as well. Suddendly, a face emerged from the gloom, its features softened by concern. "May God be with you".

A face of sheer astonishment now met his. Brian, lost in thought, collided with reality. A grotesque, jarring creature was now facing him, a figure so uncomfortably strange his head couldn't even make sense of it. A long and voluminous brown fur covered with branches and leaves cascaded to its hips; a slim body branching out of its head, arms and legs like tweezers.

"What are you?", it demanded.

"Sorry?", asked Brian puzzled.

Its posture became provocative, fists clenched like gnarled roots, ready for battle. Brian took a step back to signal his aversion to confrontation. In a quick turn, the creature sprinted away. It was even more bizarre to see it run. Fists clenched, head down, arms and legs shaking like the wings of a fly. He noticed that the house was right ahead of him. The creature must have come from it and was now running back. The house itself was also an unnatural monstrosity, covered by the remainings of a forest with twisted branches springled by green and yellow leaves. It was as if a forest had rebelled, consuming the dwelling whole. After this encounter, the idea of getting inside was much less appealing but it was still his only option.

Walking towards the house felt like walking on a dream. Everything suspended around him, the smell of fresh leaves in the air, feet so light he was almost levitating. The door was imposing, engraved with sayings he couldn't understand. Before he could feel it, the door creaked open. The dizzy smell of mold invaded his nostrils. A young woman approached, welcoming his arrival. A light hand gesture invited his entrance. Opposite to the outside, everything was heavier inside. The air was saturated with mold and polen, the floor grappled the feet with a nauseating stickiness. Moving and thinking was harder, slower. Seeing more than two meters in front was a daunting task.

"Sit, please", said the young woman.

Although he didn't feel like it, her words had the mellowed enchantment of a hypnotic angel. The chair was weak and uncomfortable, looked like it could break any time, amplifying his stress. Everything in this room was designed to calm you, but there was an uneasy, heavy feeling in the air. He grasped for a proper, clean breath. Only thing he got was dust. A large figure was approaching at a calm, steady slowness. A fruity smell stationed at his left, a sweet refreshment to the moldy atmosphere. He could feel something breathing near. Above, a pair of green eyes was wooing him, like a predator woos its prey. A hand grappled his shoulder.

"May Nature be with you".

A hard, rispid voice, now floating to the other end of the table. How could such a tall, heavy man make no sound while moving. All seemed so natural and effortless. The only sound heard in all the motion was from the creaking chair where he sat at the end. The floor squeaked for mercy like a man at the end of life as the others made way to the table and sat around it. Three women on each side, Brian and the man at the head. Plates were delivered to each one of them by two men that seemed to lack the elegance and stoicism of the previous one. The last belonged to the mysterious man. Not only the delivery was more careful and respectful, but also the contents were different. All the plates were full of greyed-out fruits, almost rotten, probably several days past their prime; the last one, full of appealing, brightly colored fruit that shone like jewels, looking definitely superior. Despite that, merely seconds after the distribution, everyone ravagely started devouring the presented meal. Everyone but Brian.

"Is nobody going to say it?", he questioned.

His words didn't seem to have an effect on the scene. Everyone kept feasting. Slowly, the fortunate man stopped and reclined. The creaking of the chair was muffled by the munching sounds around the table. He eyed Brian directly with an indifferent expression. His eyes slightly squinted, hinted Brian to an explanation.

"The prayer", Brian whispered.

A loud gasp surronded the stand. The man, unfazed, lifted his hands slowly, palms open, a silent plea for calm settling. The plea was respected, the women settled. Expressionless, the man fitted Brian. The hands went down in a forward motion, stopped halfway and pointed ahead. Two men seized Brian, dragging him through the wooden floor. Suspended between the pillars made men on each side, he saw the brown, rugged surface under his feet become a grey, smooth surface. With a sharp turn left and a powerful swing, Brian was thrown into the air, landing on the cold, hard floor. A loud slam signaled his captive.

At least the air was breathable. The room was sterilized by the bright white lights, emptied from any furniture besides a single chair at the center. No sound, no color, no smell, everything cleansed from any sensation. Even the white chair lacked any tangible existence.

The church, even between sermons, was never as silent as this room, nor as devoid of color. Brian had fantasized about pocketing some of the gold-encrusted jewels, though it wouldn't matter much. By law, all jewelry belonged to the church and was strictly forbidden from sale or trade. Only those with religious value could be given as tokens of divine grace during mandatory sermons. As a church member, it was always a spectacle to witness the crowds lining up on sermon days, crosses at hand, awaiting their turn for a punched card.

Being a member of the church had its perks. You were always above suspicion, your faith unquestioned. Brian considered himself lucky to have ended up in the church that fateful day instead of at his uncle's house. His uncle had been caught in one of the religious cleansings, a fate Brian would have shared had he been there.

Being raised within the church from such a young age had earned Brian a certain level of respect from the other members. It was this respect that had allowed him to secure a rare week-long travel permit outside the city boundaries.

"Show the cross at the entrance and you will be permitted to re-enter the city," they had warned him. "Make sure you have it ready to show immediately.".

Not that it mattered anymore. Surely, the week had already passed, and even if it hadn't, the cross was gone. In this room, where hours stretched into days and days into what felt like weeks, his only contact with the outside world was the small chuckhole through which rotten fruit was passed to him. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be a meal or a cruel taunt, but hunger gnawed at him, and he ate it anyway.

Finally, the door opened. It was to give way to the man that ordered his incarceration. In this light, he seemed way less threatning, but still maintained the calmness from before. In a slow and methodical stroll, he made way to the chair and sat on it. Eyes fixed on Brian, he questioned.

"Do you know why you are here?"

Brian's voice was raspy from disuse.

"Am I supposed to?"

A flicker of annoyance crossed the Conveyer's face, his lips tightening into a thin line.

"After the Events started happening, a lot of people lost everything. If the Events didn't take it all, the church would take the rest in their so-called cleansings. As you might imagine, those people grew resentful. They didn't believe in your God, in your church or your State. Their solace resided in joining forces to resist those beliefs. To worship the true decider of all fates: Nature. The Events are not an act of God, it's nature's response to the mistakes of humanity. Disasters commanded by Nature. They have no leader, no State. Their only leader is Nature that speaks to them through their Conveyer."

The man stopped to let Brian absorb all the information. It was obvious to Brian, he was talking about this community and the man was their Conveyer.

"The Conveyer is merely a vehicle for Nature to communicate with her lovers, to lead them. It also has the function of protecting Nature from external threats coming from the human world. So, when a man comes from outside and starts regurgitating church propaganda, the Conveyer has to act. That's why you are here."

"I am here because you commanded. Nature had nothing to do with it.", Brian finally spoke.

The Conveyer let a silent chuckle slip from within him.

"You know, me and you, we are not so different. Every person has to believe in something, it's part of human nature. I chose to believe in the truth, you chose the lies. But you can still be saved. You just have to take the Nature's challenge and see the truth."

The Conveyer was throwing Brian a lifeline. Or maybe telling him his sentence.

"What's the challenge", said Brian reluctantly.

The Conveyer smile was now wider than ever. The happiest Brian has ever seen him. He leisurely brought himself up from the chair and signaled Brian to follow him.

As Brian followed the Conveyer, the corridor seemed to stretch on endlessly, each step echoing in the oppressive silence. They reached a heavy door opened through a code combination. On the other side, a panoply of flowers, trees, colors and smells, Nature's finest. As they stepped through the doorway, Brian was enchanted by the atmosphere. The scene before him was a riot of color and life. Wildflowers bloomed in every shade imaginable, their petals kissed by butterflies and buzzing bees. Birdsong filled the air, punctuated by the rustling of leaves.

Above, the natural sky had been replaced by a vast, shimmering dome. Pink leaves, like delicate confetti, drifted down from its heights, creating a mesmerizing spectacle. Brian felt as if he had stepped into a living snowglobe.

At the end of the road, a large open arena awaited. In the center stood a massive, gnarled tree, its roots spreading across the floor like grasping hands. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something else, something primal and unsettling. Everyone gathered around it in expectation. The whole community was there.

"Today we gather to witness Nature's judgment.", the Conveyer announced. "The challenger is this young man.", he pointed at Brian and commanded him to go in front. "He seeks penitence for his false beliefs. He asks Nature to show him the truth."

The Conveyer approached the tree and leaned forward like he was listening to it.

"Nature is ready for the challenge. You may approach.", he said in Brian's direction.

Brian obeyed.

"The challenger will now take the promised fruit and start the challenge. May Nature be with you.", declared the Conveyer, last sentence echoed by the crowd.

Brian hesitated before the tree, the expectant gazes of the community pressing upon him. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and plucked one of the glistening red fruits from the tree's gnarled branches. It was cool and smooth to the touch, with a faint, sweet fragrance.

As Brian took a tentative bite, the flavor exploded in his mouth—a burst of honeyed sweetness followed by an earthy, almost spicy aftertaste. He felt a warmth spread through his body, a tingling sensation that started in his fingertips and radiated outwards.

Suddenly, the world around him began to shift and distort. The colors of the flowers intensified, becoming almost blindingly bright. The leaves on the trees seemed to pulsate with life, their edges blurring and reforming. The birdsong grew louder, morphing into a cacophony of unfamiliar chirps and whistles.

Brian stumbled back, his vision swimming. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he collapsed to the ground. As darkness closed in, he heard the Conveyer's voice, distant and echoing, "The challenge has begun."