Three Koi and an Orchid

For the first time in her life, Pia walked down the main road away from Dwelling. Despite living there for fourteen years, she’d never ventured off the mountain. Most of her days had been spent traversing the Divine Ascent, yet never had she gone further than that. At the Dwelling main gate, she’d paused to look back at what had been her home for all her life.

Home wasn’t quite the word she’d use. A place she lived? The village that housed her? Pia felt a bit of guilt for her dark thoughts toward Dwelling. Regardless of everything, Dwelling had kept her safe and nurtured her for the first fourteen years of her life. For that, Pia was grateful.

A sense of freedom buzzed within her skin as she put steps between her and Dwelling.

On both sides trees and bushes fenced the dirt road. It made sense to her since Dwelling was located high in the mountain ranges of the Central Plains. That too had always struck her as odd. How can there be mountain ranges and plains in the same area? Even when she’d looked over the maps of the region, they made little sense.

Plains seemed like they should be flat and level, how could they also have mountains? Pia wished she could ask Fewl but that thought brought pangs of regret. She forced her thoughts away and focused on putting one foot in front of another.

The road was easy to walk, and Pia quickly established a comfortable pace. The path was soft underfoot, likely due to the constant rain, but thankfully not overly muddy. A few puddles and thick sections of mud were easy to avoid, keeping her feet dry inside her boots.

In no time, she came to her first major decision. A fork split the path ahead. One leading to the left seemed to switch back, descending the mountain in curved lines. The one to the right seemed to go straight for a longer stretch.

There was no blazing sun to gauge the time of day, but Pia estimated that the sun would be setting in only a few hours of time. The path to the right might be better but it could be leading away from towns and villages. However, the one on the left could be dangerous in the dark. From what her eyes could see, the path narrowed and steepened significantly.

After a moment of hesitation, Pia decided to take the right side and set off once more. Her easy pace ate up ground until the path turned overgrown and rocky.

“What kind of path is this?” Pia grumbled aloud after nearly tripping over a large rock.

What had started off as a normal traveling path had quickly morphed into a footpath. A footpath that saw little to no traffic, Pia thought.

Looking over her shoulder, Pia could only see grass and trees behind her. Even the path hid amongst the tall grasses that grew deep over the sides. She’d come further than she thought. The mountain ranges behind her towered in the distance. It was beautiful, even in this overcast weather. It brought a smile to her lips and renewed energy to her feet.

The freedom was intoxicating, and Pia couldn’t help the bubbly feelings of glee within her chest. Ever since she’d left Dwelling, the heaviness she’d felt since failing had lifted. It was as if her burden dissolved with every step away. Now, she was on her own, her decisions were her own. What did the test matter now? Pia would find a way to improve her skills in her own time.

She ignored the voice that whispered how delusional she was.

The clouds grew darker, stealing away the light and Pia decided to find a place to sleep before it became too dark to see. The right side of the path had clusters of trees with fewer bushes to trudge through. At the base of one of the clusters, Pia found a flat, dry spot, likely an abandoned deer den. It wasn’t ideal, but it was well hidden and enclosed. Tucking her rolled pack under her head, Pia curled into a ball to rest.

Small worries flooded her mind. Food and water had to be found in the morning. Her stomach growled faintly, but by morning it’d complain heartily. She had no weapon for defense. In her pack, Pia had a few daggers and a butcher knife. Her yi would help, but it was not strong enough to rely on. What could she do to survive if she came upon real danger?

Shaking her head free of worries, Pia concentrated on the most important part. Food. She was prepared for this. She’d hunted rabbits, pheasants, and small deer on the mountain. It shouldn’t be too difficult even out here. Water would be easy to source with yi. Unless she came to a drought, then she’d worry. Feeling better about her decisions, Pia closed her eyes and slept.

The next day brought the sun. It basked her in its warmth, easing her sore muscles and tired body. She stretched for a long while, loosening each muscle for the trek ahead. Birds chirped as they flew in and out of the trees. Exhilaration had buzzed within her since she’d awoken. Her first day on her own had been a success.

Turning to look at the den she’d slept in, Pia looked at it critically. Withered, brown vines tangled around one another, hanging in long sweeps toward the ground. They were thick and, as Pia tugged on them, sturdy. They would make perfect snares for rabbits. Carefully, Pia used one of her daggers to cut long strips free. Rolling them up, she tucked them inside her belt.

She found a patch of wild Elderflowers, distinct with their purple leaves and round, pink petals. Drawing on water yi, Pia drew water from the plant, cupping it in her hands to drink. It was just enough to sate her thirst. Her belly was quiet, so Pia headed down the path, keeping an eye out for other food and water sources.

The path began to hardly resemble a walking path. It was soon only a faint brown line running amidst grass and weed. Was it a deer trail? Perhaps this had once been the main path but had been abandoned over time. It maintained a gradual downhill descent and every time Pia looked behind her the mountains grew further away. Had she missed a turning point for the path?

While part of her worried, another part of her was thrilled to discover where she was going. Pia walked for the entire day, breaking only to draw water yi from plants to sate her thirst. The path began to curve towards the right, ever flowing downward. The trees began to thin, opening to wider sections of grass on the left. On the right, more and more boulders and rocks showed. Pia began to realize she was skirting the side of another mountain.

The curve of the path and the trees behind her now blocked her view of the mountain she’d grown up on. A part of her ached at its loss, but another part grew further excited.

As the sun began to descend, Pia looked for yet another sleeping space. She came upon a spot where two massive boulders had fallen together, creating a small cave like spot below them. It was just big enough for her to crawl under. Deciding it would make a decent, safe place to sleep, Pia set her bundle inside.

Drawing wind yi around her to brush away her scent away Pia slid into the long grasses between the trees on the left side of the path. Deftly she set three snare traps, hoping for at least one fat rabbit. On each snare Pia drew a small rune that would alert her to movement.

Waiting wasn’t a skill she had, so she put herself to work. She collected dried wood from the ground, keeping an eye out for any mushrooms or plants she could eat. Pia was thrilled to find a few Dogear mushrooms, thick and fat, and delicious when hungry. Her noise caught a scent of sweetness, almost like a peach. Sniffing, she followed it. Her nose led her to a bush of Widowberries. Pia knew them well. They were small, yellow berries that smelled delicious even from a distance. With delight Pia picked every ripe one she could see, tucking them into the hem of her robe.

Getting back to where she’d left her pack, Pia tore a section of her other robe off and wrapped the berries inside, tying it into a little bundle. What a great find. At least she had one little weapon available now. Widowberries had certainly earned their name.

Pia got a fire going before the talisman she’d drawn on her snare went off. There was no joy in killing an animal for food.

As quickly and painlessly as she could, Pia snapped its neck. Guilt followed quickly.

Bowing in respect before the rabbit, Pia thanked it for its sacrifice, “Thank you, dear friend, for the life you’re sharing with me.”

She made quick work in skinning, gutting, and skewering it onto a piece of wood. The pelt she rolled up tight, hoping to find a stream to clean it in soon.

The snare she’d caught the rabbit in had broken, so she was down to only two. The rabbit fat sizzled into the fire, and the smell made her stomach rumble. Pia’s eyes grew heavy as she watched the smoke trail into the air. The sun had slid into the night once more, leaving only her small fire as light.

It had amazed her how dark the world was at night, away from all mankind. No light existed out here, save the sun, the stars, and the moon. It was beautiful. When all light were gone, her eyes saw nothing. Sound was enhanced. The prior night sleep had taken her quickly, but tonight she enjoyed the sensation of the enclosing darkness.

Before Pia had left Dwelling, a fear in the back of her mind had been that, once in the wilderness, fear would overcome her. How would she handle it? She’d feared the fear that might come. Instead, her whole being buzzed with a thrill. It was as if her veins had been pricked with a thousand acupuncture needles. The sounds of crickets and frogs sang through the forest. A snapping twig or the rustle of brush could be a threat or simple traversing of wildlife.

Eyes open, seeing nothing, was quickly become something she looked forward to. For now, she kept the fire going, waiting to cut into her dinner.

The rabbit was a greasy, messy, delicious dinner. Her fingers burned trying to peel the meat from the bone. It steamed in the night air but the smell had her hunger roaring to life. She hissed as the meat burnt her tongue. Bland and gamey, it was the best thing she’d eaten. Pia scarfed it down as fast as she could.

After she’d picked all the meat from the rabbit, Pia gently used her knife to peel the delicate bones from the body. The rib bones would make good needles. The leg bones were thick enough to make a fish spear with. She tucked them into the rabbit pelt, hoping once more to find a stream. It wouldn’t be good to attract bugs, or predators, from the smell.

Pia tucked the Dogear mushrooms into her pack, keeping them for another day where food might not be easy to find. Using earth yi to loosen the dirt, Pia smothered her fire and then crawled into her sleep spot for the night. In the darkness, her eyes saw nothing, but her ears listened to the orchestra of nightlife. Sleep took her away quickly.

For seven more days, Pia walked, hunted, foraged, and slept along the path. Amazement never faded as her eyes took in the changing landscape. After circling the edge of the mountain for two more days, she’d realized the path had led her away, nearer to what seemed to be plains. The trees thinned further, then fell far into the distance. Tall grasses, thick bushes, and random shorter trees with wide sweeping limbs filled the landscape. Looking around, Pia could see only a hint of the mountains behind her, but all around her were long stretches of grassland.

Her feet were beginning to ache from the days of walking across rock and sand. Her boots were thick and strong, but she feared they would soon have holes. At night, Pia picked at one of the rabbit rib bones, carving it into a needle. During the day, she picked tall grasses, tying them to her pack to dry as she walked. They would make good thread if needed.

The amount of greenery lead Pia to believe that she’d come to a stream soon. Three days before, Pia had come across a small mountain spring leaking from the side of the mountain. She cleaned the rabbit pelt well and hung it in the sun to dry, cleaned the bones she’d kept, and then herself. A part of her had felt vulnerable and exposed to be doing such a private act in the middle of the wilderness.

Desperation had won though. Pia hadn’t been able to take her own smell. Stripping down, she’d used her dirty clothes to scrub her skin, before scrubbing her clothes, and then, she cleaned herself with handfuls of water, until her skin was almost clear of grime. Tackling her hair had been the hardest. Always braided, it had accumulated grease, tree bark, dirt, and leaves. Untangling it, rinsing it clean, and braiding it again had taken up a good chunk of time.

Crows in the trees had chattered at her and it had saved her from losing her patience and cutting her hair off.

“Are you laughing at me?” she’d asked.

Cawcawcaw. They had replied, making her grin.

She’d missed the crows from the mountains and their mischievous ways. Pia hoped they would follow her, but they soon flew off, leaving her to finish her hair alone. It was the first time she’d felt truly lonely since leaving Dwelling. Her thoughts shifted to Fewl and Conch, wondering how they were doing, what they were doing, and where they were. It hurt to think of them and Pia pushed those thoughts away, smothering those emotions deep within her chest.

Now, four days later, Pia smelled terrible and felt worse. Her skin was grimy, and her nails were stained black from ash. Water and food were still easy to access. Grasses and plants gave little water but using her yi, Pia could pull enough to sate her thirst. Rabbits were abundant, and though she grew weary of bland rabbit meat, it kept her full. Still, a growing worry had risen to her mind. She hadn’t seen anyone in days.

“Did I take a path that literally went nowhere?” she said, laughing at herself. Her voice and laughter sounded harsh for not having talked in days. Imagining her wandering the rest of her lives, lost in the ‘world’ she wanted to discover.

The sound of her own voice had jarred her. It was startling how easy it had been to slip into silence, to enjoy the sounds of nature and wildlife. A sense of unease crept into her heart. It was as if, even in her freedom, Pia didn’t exist.

It took another day of walking before Pia stumbled onto a stream. She’d decided to change direction and head deep into the meadow to her left. The wild grasses had grown coarse and tall, the ground uneven and thick with old clumps of mud. At first, she’d hesitated about pushing through. If there was no stream, but only standing water, she’d be risking walking with wet feet. To test, she’d drawn on water yi and found it abundant in the air. Over the days, Pia had come to recognize the difference in the yi when it came to standing water or moving water. Standing water had less vibrancy in the yi, but moving water practically sparked with life. The yi vibrated rapidly, pulsing in the air.

Pia kept pushing forward, even when bushes and grass towered over her, and finally she’d heard the sound of rushing water. Eagerness had propelled her forward, perhaps too quickly. Shoving through a particularly thick section of grass, Pia had stepped out and landed directly in water.

Thankfully, it hadn’t been a drop off, but the water was quick and cold. She scanned the water and saw a bank of rocks in the center. Pia waded across and dropped down onto it. Her legs sprawled out in the water and the coldness was a balm to her sore muscles.

For a long while Pia sat there, letting the cold water soothe her. When the sun reached its peak, she stood and began to follow the water downstream. It was thankfully not too deep or fast, but she maintained caution.

A natural bank formed on the right side of the path and Pia navigated onto it, getting out of the water. It turned out to be a good decision. A few hundred feet down the stream widened, deepened, and quickened. Pia was stuck on the right side now.

She kept her eyes open for a place to rest. Grass still stretched wide and far to her eye. Pia was fairly certain she was deep in the Central Plains. Her worry grew as her eyes scanned the landscape and saw little shelter available. Water was important, but it also attracted animals. Particularly predators.

It was likely she’d have to continue walking through the night if she couldn’t find a place to sleep. Her feet ached as the wet fabric rubbed against her skin. The temptation to remove her shoes grew, but Pia was reluctant. Stepping on a rock or sharp object would make walking a lot more challenging.

Her steps grew sluggish as she went. The riverbank widened and narrowed but remained consistent. Parts of the grassy bank along the river grew and shrank as she went. Some parts Pia struggled to see over, but she kept walking. It was a gamble to stay near the water, but it was also a risk to move away from it.

Until finally she got lucky. A small grove of trees appeared ahead, thick and stout with wide stretching limbs. They were set right along the water and were stout enough for her to take refuge in. They hung over the stream where the water gentled. A good place to fish and sleep. Casting her eyes at the position of the sun, Pia decided to try her luck. Once more, she shucked her clothing and scrubbed herself, her hair, and her robes clean.

Pia hung up her outer robe and took a look at her underwear. The long white robe had taken a beating. The hem was tattered, and the sleeves were a mess. An idea came to her. Taking her dagger, Pia sliced off the arms and the lowest part of the hem. Dragging the shortened hem up, she tucked it inside the belt of the robe and tied it closed. Now, her chest and lower parts were covered but her legs and arms were free.

Hanging her wet clothing up, Pia took her chance in the river.

After missing a handful of swipes with the dagger, Pia sighed. She hated to use yi to hunt, but, as her eyes watched the sun, she grew desperate. Drawing a talisman in the air, Pia used it to create a barrier around a thick fish. She slammed it down, pinning the fish, and then plucked it from the water.

Guilt ate at her. She liked using her own skills to hunt. It felt wrong to use yi for this.

She pinned the fish to the tree with her dagger and began to look for items to build a fire. In the end, Pia had to climb the tree and snap a few thick branches off.

Scaling, gutting, and cleaning the fish took little time. Seeing its small body over the fire, Pia wished she’d been greedier. Her stomach clenched with hunger. The fish wasn’t as fat as it seemed at first glance. Her robes were starting to grow loose on her.

After she finished her meal and kicked the fire out, Pia climbed the tree. It was rough and biting against her skin. Her outer robe was still too wet to wear. She tugged on her boots, despite them also being wet. From her pack, she took out her butcher knife, holding it tightly in her hand. If something happened in the middle of the night, she wanted to be prepared. Tonight was the first time she feared falling asleep. The moon was out overhead, giving her some light, but it didn’t relieve her anxiety. Sleeping in the tree wasn’t comfortable and she felt vulnerable and exposed.

It took her quite a long time, but eventually, she dozed off.