Blossoms of Belief The Silla Kingdom's Floral Transcendence Cult

Arriving in what seems like another mundane variation of the Silla Kingdom, I initially dismissed the prominence of flowers as another cultural idiosyncrasy—until, of course, I nearly tripped over a citizen genuflecting to a particularly radiant chrysanthemum. This wasn’t mere appreciation; this was reverence. As I gathered myself, it became abundantly clear that in this timeline, the Silla people are enveloped in what they call "Floral Transcendence."

In every nook of Seorabeol, flower gardens act as temples, abundant with colors and scents that would put a botanical garden to shame. Each petal is believed to harbor divine insights, and the caretakers of these floral sanctuaries are modern-day oracles channeling cosmic wisdom. A stroll down the marketplace revealed that basil claims to ward off evil spirits—kind of amusing since back in the '90s, the only spirits basil warded off for me were garlic-infused.

Individuals I've met take this floral way of life quite seriously. Yong, a local caretaker with a perennial grin, took me through his garden while expounding on the virtues of the lavender bloom which, according to him, helps connect the soul to the heavenly planes. I made the mistake of mentioning my complete lack of a green thumb, only to be met with a look of pity, a solemn nod, and a whispered assurance that there's "always hope for fertile soil."

Their devotion doesn’t stop there. Whole festivals are dedicated to these vibrant deities. The Blooming Augury Fair I stumbled upon is a grand event, complete with a floral contest. Underneath the pleasant smiles and floral arrangements, however, grumbles an undercurrent of silent rivalry. It turns out garden sabotage is as common as bad seeds in this timeline. The competitive spirit is, well, flower flourishing, if I must pun.

One culturally delightful yet inevitably perplexing phenomenon is the predawn Dew Collecting sessions. I woke up to witness this daily ritual, where people gather with carefully crafted nets to capture the morning dew, supposedly rich in cosmic essence. The locals assure me it leads to more mindful days, though honestly, I suspect it's just an elaborate technique to start your day with damp socks—a pleasure if you’ve a penchant for unusual hydration.

Not everyone blossoms under this seemingly serene system. A humorous yet heartbreaking concept exists: the "Stem-Shunned." These poor souls, unable to convince so much as a dandelion to sprout, slip through the societal cracks, enduring sympathetic glances and receiving unsolicited advice about soil aeration. Oddly enough, they’ve developed a subculture resembling an avant-garde plant club, building a community based on what they can’t grow. I joined in for a session, and under the light of the moon, we toasted to weeds, resilient against all odds.

Even local commerce has adapted. Markets flourish (yet another pun, apologies) with stalls filled with rare seedlings and "transcendent" gardening tools—more alchemist's ratchets than garden spades, I’d venture. The black market piqued my interest, selling vials of earth meant to be divinely charged. It sounds glamorous until you spot the full-eared mules that supply the core ingredient. Still, the entrepreneurial spirit never changes across timelines, I suppose.

I could write scrolls about these reality-tending people who, rather than vanquishing in ascetic huts on distant mountains, seek spirituality so vividly through nurturing their plots of earth. Although the floral aroma hangs heavy every step I take, this life of commonplace enlightenment is curious. While the universal pondering persists—am I tending my plot, or is it tending me?—I must resist running roots here.

The sky hints at a change in weather, and with my curiosity (and shoes) thoroughly muddied, it’s time to depart before I'm recruited for unwanted weeding duty. As fascinating as it was to participate in their horticultural homage, there's an entire cosmos of timelines still to discover, and my shoes have a lot more walking to do.