Viridian

Once the wary envy of the wastelands, Viridian's garden is now both overgrown and overrun, both the aftermath of the First Seed and the proof of plague adaptability evident in the furiously lively blooms of redblood sappers and bloody snapdragons. Viridian, for the most part, leaves them be, unable to find the strength or the motivation to begin reclaiming the remnants of rose and lily and sempervivum from the noxious weeds. The past Viridian would have found it unthinkable to let her only shrine of peace be ruined, but the past Viridian had never truly known disaster.

Viridian finds her relief now in the ghost-lit ruins, methodical and mind-numbing and perfect; a terrible way to cope, to be sure, but she cannot bear to explore other options. She keeps track of the flow of time not by the sun but by her journeys home, to remind Aigean and Indomitas to take their own breaks from reality. But time, too, has its own irrelevance; what is its use, if it all flows together?

She still tends to Chai's garden, and keeps rose hips when she finds them. Perhaps, perhaps, she can plant her own again.