The cries couldn’t have come from far away, but what did they belong to? Ravi didn’t know the answer, nor was he sure if he could muster the courage to find out. He and his elder sister had still not found their way out of the rotting forest in spite of the day’s efforts, and the electrifying fear of the dark was the only thing that kept his tiredness from overcoming him. A snap of his fingers set another twig alight. The shadows retreated once more.
“Leave it, Ravi,” urged Fuu.
“Leave them to die?” he challenged.
“It is not our responsibility to interfere. Who is to say the voice belongs to a person and not some prowler of the night?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to take that chance.” Lighting the way with his makeshift torch, Ravi marched in the direction of the noise. His tanned leather boots made traversing the marshy floor of the forest a little more comfortable than the open cut of Fuu’s low-heeled shoes. Truthfully, neither of them knew where they were going, there were no landmarks or notable differences anywhere throughout Mogu. Everything they saw decayed into monotony.
Another cry drew them closer. This time however, the cry was one of vexation, and was accompanied by a barrage of indistinguishable curses. Something flashed from the edge of the torch’s light and burrowed into the bark and mildew mere millimetres away from Ravi’s head.
“Stay where you are. The next one won’t miss,” warned the stranger from the shadows. Her breath was heavy and laboured. The siblings froze in place.
“Was it your voice we heard calling out?” Ravi asked, warily scanning the surrounding darkness.
“Why, have you come to save me?” she laughed. “You’re a little late for that.”
Cupping the end of his torch, Ravi fed the flame until it burned like a small blaze.
The light flickered upon the bloodied face of a younger girl with a broken nose. She winced at its brightness. Her lower body had been mired by marshy filth and her shoulder dampened with bright red blots of fresh blood. One arm hung loosely at her side, the other shielded her seeping wound; she held no weapons.
Ravi retrieved the knife and started toward her, “This belongs to you.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I told you to stay back,” the girl warned again. “I’ve had enough of this damned forest.”
“We didn’t come here to hurt you,” he said in a tone as reassuring as he could manage.
She shook her head, “I can’t afford to trust you. Not here, not now.”
Ravi moved another step closer, “I can help you. We can help each other.”
“I see,” she smiled sadly and held out her hand. As if brushing away dust, the soft skin crumbled with the breeze. Bones of black smoke were all that remained. “Then show me how you plan to save me.”
The girl made her move before Ravi could manage a reply. Leaping back, she splayed her skeletal hand outward. A shape of dark, swirling smoke flew toward them, enveloping the tip of Ravi’s torch and smothering the flame. The forest fell into darkness around them.
“You’ve gotten too used to hiding in the light. What are we without it?” the girl spoke from somewhere to the rear. Ravi’s eyes flicked wildly about the nothingness.
“This isn’t helping anyone!” he shouted. Pulling his tattered shawl from his shoulders in a wide arc, he ran his fingers across the drab material. Flames burst forth from beneath and he pinned the burning shawl against the tree at his side with the girl’s dagger. “Nor is this forest the place to make enemies.”
Though the light had returned to their surroundings, the stranger was nowhere to be seen. Fuu released a bored sigh and adjusted the red silk of her long, fingerless gloves. Ravi’s eldest sibling was well-known in the Daishun’s court for her regal dress sense and lax attitude, and the last few months of travel had proven no difference. While he had spent his days disguising himself in common clothes plucked from washing lines and tinted glasses to hide his family’s distinctive eyes of swirling gold, his sister had insisted on a compromise of her own. She wore an elegant, yet inexpensive navy blazer jacket loosely over a formal hanfu gown, the colour of which was a fuchsia so vivid that it might have been weaved from the petals of the flower itself. A conical hat rested atop her plaited hair that was fastened with a ribbon underneath the woman’s chin. While it may have kept the glare from her eyes, they would still garner the attention of passersby. Her sunlit gaze held the same golden glare as the jewelled crown that had once adorned her head.
“How fond you are of conjuring such predicaments,” Fuu lamented. Despite her usual carelessness, she maintained a stride of grace wherever she walked. The forest of Mogu was no exception. Carrying herself almost dutifully, Fuu circled the tree beside her brother and approached the shadow cast by the flames of his shawl. Something moved for her before Ravi could react- another hand of swirling smoke, but Fuu was ready for the attack. The smoke was dispelled with the wave of a finger and the strange girl was dragged by her forearm from behind the tree. Her bewildered struggles ended with a fiery dagger at her throat.
“Calm yourself. Now,” Ravi spoke with a clear voice, his thick brow lightly coated with sweat. The girl’s teeth were clenched in a fearful grimace.
“Why are you so determined to resist?” asked Fuu. The stranger regarded her with wide eyes.
“I’m enough for me,” she answered hesitantly. “Keep your help to yourself. My own strength is all I need.”
“Not enough to stop whatever did that to you. Where is it?” Ravi cut in.
“Dead, I hope, but there were more. So many more. We can’t go back there,” she shook her head, pointing in the direction she had been standing.
“Then we’d better go elsewhere- and quickly,” he said, and raised a newly lit torch against the night. “Are you well enough to walk?”
“You haven’t been listening. I don’t need your help.”
“Would you rather traipse through this filth alone and in the dark? There’s more comfort in our company than whatever haunts this forest, that’s certain.” Ravi gave the best smile he could to the difficult girl. He extended his hand and offered back her knife. She looked at the remains of his shawl that smouldered on a bed of blackened mushroom caps, and after a moment of consideration, gently took the dagger.
“I’ll be the one to judge that,” she replied, only to shake her head and reconcile herself. “Sorry for the trouble. And thank you.”
Ravi breathed a sigh of relief, “There’s no need to thank me for a little humanity. I’m Ravi, just like that old tale of the Jinha pilgrim that poured rivers from mountains. My sister’s name is Fuu. Nice to meet you.”
“My family name is Ko, or so I’m told,” the girl replied in a queer tone. “Just Lin will do. Nice to meet you both.”
Even with an extra member to the group, there was little by the way of conversation continuing into the unknown depths of the forest. Ravi led the way with a burning branch in hand past fallen logs and huge, bulbous fungal pods that burst into thick clouds of spores at the lightest touch.
“Fuu and I came all the way from the Midwest, it feels like we’re a thousand miles from the capital after wandering for so long. It’s amazing that we still haven’t left Han. After two years of travel, our journey might finally end beyond Mogu.”
“What’s so important that you’d travel for two years to find?” Lin asked, her eyes darting constantly between the twisting and shifting shadows.
“An old shrine upon a mountainside, though we hadn’t set off with that destination in mind. It was only a month or so ago we learned of its existence.”
He had the girl’s attention then.
“Hema?” her voice hardened.
“I can’t be certain,” he replied carefully, “And you? Where’re you from?”
“The Solace Valley, west of a town called Yangwa. It’s… lost.”
Ravi had no reply to give, rather unsettled by the peculiar statement. Lin gently rubbed her eyes. “Not that it matters now. Let’s stay focused, this forest can’t go on forever,” she supposed, and Ravi nodded in agreement.
Ahead lay a narrow break in the trees where water trickled slowly over smooth stones and sparkled under the white light of the full moon. Lin spoke up then, a tale of a river that she had heard would lead to a teahouse, but Ravi had his doubts. Nobody of sound mind could ever remain in this place. However, as he looked closer, he couldn’t help but notice the clearness of the water. The stream was surprisingly clean, and the rock bed beneath that kept it free of dirt had surely been built by hand.
“We’ll go then, and find this teahouse in the mist,” he announced, secretly hopeful. They had been without bearings ever since entering the forest. The fault was his, he was aware of that. Following the summons of a letter with an unknown sender was foolish; meandering into Mogu with no form of guide had so far proved nothing short of suicidal. Worst of all, he had selfishly involved his sister. Time and time again, he risked the life of a woman he knew would gladly offer it to him. She accepted his responsibility rather than his apologies, and when falling upon hard times, gave him reassurance rather than anger.
The stream travelled along a brightly-lit clearing that granted them safety from the creature in the canopy, though offered no respite from the thick, ticklish air that permeated the forest’s confines. Nausea had begun to take Ravi’s stomach, but despite his aching hunger, he couldn’t bring himself to take even a nibble at the handful of sunflower seeds he had in his pocket. Even the water sloshing around in the dried gourd at his waist seemed to have been tainted by the acrid smell and felt like lukewarm swamp water churning in his dry mouth. Thoughts of the teahouse drifted to the quenching taste of green tea, its sharp heat that contrasted with the floral sweetness of the tea leaves. A faint smile spread on his face, only to drop at the sight of a distant light obscured by mist. The disembodied light shifted into a standing lantern as they approached, illuminating a rough path of gravel and odd pebbles that ran adjacent to the shallow stream. Small boulders at either side distinguished the path from Mogu’s inescapable sodden grime. Further ahead rose a building as tall and wide as a barn, though it was also as stylishly erected as a prestigious manor, its supports of cypress wood painted a regal grey and its latticed windows glowering under the lanterns that burned within. It seemed untainted by the fetid touch of the forest.
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“How very timely. It would appear you were telling the truth after all,” Fuu remarked, gently sliding the makeshift torch from her brother’s hand. She smothered the flame without a touch and tossed the charred twig back to the ground. “And it would seem we are expected.”
Ravi noticed what Fuu had meant. The building’s heavy double doors were half open, and in the luminous gap sat a shape unmistakeable of a white-haired man, short and slim, yet unfittingly sturdy. A hint of suspicion played on his mind momentarily, but his body had grown heavy from weariness and his mouth dry from thirst. His apprehension did not last.
“Welcome all. Will you all be staying for the night?” greeted the young man. The ends of his loose hair hovered inches above the gravel floor as he knelt into a bow. His voice was light and unusually soft, though it retained a masculine tone.
“If you would be so kind as to allow us,” Ravi replied. His pockets were light of coin and he felt a twinge of guilt for accepting the man’s hospitality, but for the siblings this was a matter of survival. He had seized upon good will time after time; this was not the night to grow a conscience.
“By all means. Please wait but for a moment,” the man bowed once again. He poked his head inside the building and called out, “Mistress!”
Almost in an instant, an older woman had propped a door open with a particularly waxy money plant and offered out a swathe of cordial greetings.
“I am Mei Mitsuki, the owner of this small establishment. Forgive this one for his rudeness, Kei is my only son, he has never found the same tact as his sisters. I can show you inside if it would please you, we have a bathing room in which you can cleanse yourselves of Mogu’s touch. It is clear that one among you has already encountered the residents of Old Yizhou.”
Like Kei, the Mistress’ voice was as smooth as silk. The warm candlelight emanating from the building’s interior washed away any minor imperfection that might have marked her fair skin.
“You seem familiar with them,” Lin said with a forward step, “Just what are those things?"
“People, just as you are.”
“I don’t believe you. They were ghouls or… monsters, anything other than human.”
“Touched by Xia’an, perhaps, but people they remain,” Mei’s dainty hand pointed upstream of the brook, “And it would appear that you left them with a rather lively impression.”
Ravi peered into the gloom trying to make sense of her words, soon noticing the object of her interest. Their bodies disjointed and protruding with skeletal deformities, they broke from the decaying underwood one after the other, stumbling along the stream’s rocky edges at a worrying pace. Their skin was dark and discoloured, its sticky sheen revealed under the moonlight. Feathery- no, whiskery growths caressed their bodies like a system of white veins.
“Are they the creatures that attacked you, Lin?” Ravi cast a brief glance in her direction.
“I couldn’t see, but there’s little chance it could have been anything else,” she answered. Her hands were still trembling at her side. “Should we stand and fight?”
“Please do not concern yourselves over such affairs, the responsibility for our patrons lies with me. Kei, if you would?” the Mistress asked, exchanging a look with her son. He bowed once more.
“I would ask that anyone wishing to stay the night please accompany me inside. This business will be unpleasant. It is not for the eyes of guests,” Kei warned before promptly tying back his hair with a fabric band from his wrist and disappearing into the building. Returning his attention to the approaching horrors, Ravi realised that they were outnumbered- he counted six- no, seven. More had lumbered into view in the short time he had been distracted. Leaving the Mistress alone with those creatures felt cold at best, but he would do so regardless of any fleeting morals. The indifference of the Mitsukis made it difficult to argue. Without further protest, Ravi turned, accompanying his sister and newfound companion into the teahouse.
Inside awaited a plain-looking foyer that diverged into three tight corridors, their walls of white paper were partitioned with lattices and segmented by wooden beams painted in a thin coat of pewter grey; the teahouse had little by the way of decoration. Ravi pretended not to notice the trail of mud-sodden prints he and his company had left in the foyer as he removed his shoes and slipped into one of the several pairs of guest slippers- they were white, soft, and wonderfully cushioned. Kei waited patiently for the others to do the same, then beckoned for them to follow as he led the way into the rightmost passageway.
Noticing movement at the end of the hallway, Ravi raised his eyes to see a young woman rounding the corner in the same delicate clothing as the Mistress. She couldn’t have been older than Fuu- around eighteen or so, and carried herself with the same grace of a noble. The frayed white ends of her loosely fitted gown floated behind her like ghostly wisps, her feet padded bare across the smooth floorboards.
“Ai, dear sister, would you attend our guests for a short while?” Kei called.
She offered a welcoming smile that seemed almost genuine, “Of course, Kei.”
Ravi exchanged introductions with the woman, though it had already been obvious that she was another of Mei’s children. Their voices and appearances were all eerily alike, from their sharp jaws and thin brows to their eyes of quicksilver and ice-white hair. He would have figured the family for foreigners were it not for their names native to Sen.
“This room will belong to you for the remainder of the night. Allow me,” Ai said, showing them inside. She wore her hair in a messy bob cut, shorter than the loose hair of her mother, but no less beautiful.
Their room was larger than expected and, for the first time since they had arrived in Mogu, had a pleasant scent that didn’t reek of mould. Futons were already made with their bedding, and box lanterns provided a warm light from two small tables. Ravi took notice of another set of sliding doors at the end of the room that must have led back outside. It had never hurt to have an escape route in mind.
“Finer than anywhere we have slept for the last couple of months. I might actually manage some sleep tonight,” murmured Fuu.
“If you are ready, we will now leave for the tea room so that you may fill yourselves with food and drink while the bathing room is prepared.”
“Sorry, but I’ll stay here for a while if that’s fine,” Lin cut in. “I just need a little rest.”
“Is that so? Our green tea will calm you, if that is what you require, and we can offer sweet dumplings that are sure to lighten your mood,” Ai suggested.
“Thanks, but sweet food isn’t really my thing. I’ll join you soon,” came Lin’s reply. Ai’s thin brows rose and furrowed, but nothing more was said before she showed the others out of the room. Her brother was already halfway down the hall.
“Won’t Kei be joining us?” Ravi asked.
The man turned upon hearing his name, “Very few of our guests visit with the intention of sharing the warm company of a man.” After a pause, he revealed a playful smirk. “Though, if it would please someone as good looking as you…”
Ravi’s flustered denial only encouraged Kei’s remarks as the four of them made for the tea room and took their seats upon cushions laid out around a short table. Fearing Kei’s pursuit, Ravi stole a place between his sister and Ai. Her white brows piqued upward.
“My, how eager. This is only a teahouse. I lose count how many times our visitors must be reminded of that. Still, there is something mystical about your eyes, like enchanted gold,” she drawled, her words quietening to a whisper. “If you were to make chase, I might be inclined to allow it.”
Jishun Ravi Jie might have spent sixteen years in the bustling capital of Han, the oldest and largest of any city on the continent, but neither there nor on his arduous journey across the state had he gained any experience with courting. When he turned to Fuu in a silent cry for help, she stared back with a look of slight amusement.
Ravi took a breath and spoke as politely as he could manage, “That was not my intention.”
Ai gave a disappointed pout, “Oh? And here I was with my hopes up.”
After what seemed like an eternity of teasing at the hands of his attendant, a reprieve finally came in the form of the Mistress carrying a silver tray that held a steaming teapot and blue ceramic cups. Placing the tray down, she disappeared and promptly returned with another, this time loaded with rows of finger food. Ravi hadn’t missed the change in the woman’s outfit. Her new dress was trimmed with red.
“Did you drive away those monsters?”
“I believe I explained once already that they are humans- people, just as you are. They merely needed a touch of persuasion and were quickly on their way,” Mei explained with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“That doesn’t seem all that unpleasant. Your son made it sound like they were to be slaughtered.”
“Harsher measures might have been required had our home been threatened. We were fortunate enough to have a far more simple resolution.”
“I see,” Ravi conceded. Pushing her further would only bring impatience. One thing was certain after witnessing the dirt-ridden bite left by those crazed, starving fiends: they were not creatures that could ever have been reasoned with.
Clearly uninterested, Fuu took up a bamboo skewer and helped herself to a handful of sweet dumplings, wasting no time on deciding a flavour. An uncomfortable growl stirred within Ravi’s stomach, though he reached for the pot of tea rather than food. Anything he ate now would be like sand in his parched mouth.
Ai lifted the teapot before Ravi had the chance, “Allow me,” she softly chimed. Small plumes of steam rose as the scalding liquid filled the cup. “Would you tell me about yourself? Those that we host mostly arrive from that dull village of Yizhou, one look at the both of you tells me that you have travelled from further afield in a far more interesting tale.”
So she had asked, and Ravi obediently answered in broad recollection of their flight from Hanshi. Tearing out of the city gates on horseback as the morning sun dawned, they had rode along the Kaishui Estuary, a vast river that was said to have once boiled for an entire summer following the invasion of a burning spirit from the deep ocean. Upon reaching the mouth of the estuary, they had hurriedly sold their horses for a pittance, seeking passage across the open ocean. They found only a small fishing boat.
“I spent a month seasick, surviving on whatever scraps the boatman would allow us. Hunger like that isn’t something I’d ever felt before, nor would I ever hope to again. I did what I could to spare Fuu the same experience. There’s more man in a scarecrow than the heap of frail skin and bones that stepped off onto dry land at the end of our voyage.”
“But did you see it? The Lanyan Sea?”
Ravi gave Ai a quizzical look, but there was no mockery beneath her question.
“I did, for thirty days and thirty nights. We passed through the Jaws of the Sea, the countless rock fields of Lanyan that chew through the hulls of ships and send them to the depths of the Early Dark. Every now and then we would break from them, sometimes for a day or two, those were the only times of peace that we knew. I watched over calm waves as the ocean melted into the horizon, becoming one with the sky.”
Delving into his memories, his eyes grew hazy, though he still couldn’t help but notice the look of Ai’s earnest wonder. His face softened.
“It was beautiful,” he said, and stared down at his haggard reflection in the teacup. Even after a year, his strength hadn’t yet fully returned.
“Please, continue,” Ai asked with some excited urgency.
“There isn’t all that much to tell. We wandered for more than a year in the northern reaches of Han. For every night we spent in a bed, there were at least ten more in the damp cold. Summer has been a measure brighter; fires crackling at dusk and warm nights under a sky of stars comfort the heart like nothing else. That is of course, if you can ignore the biting of the flies. I’m not entirely sure they managed to draw blood from these dry veins, but they tried nonetheless. Is that enough for you?”
“I could never hear enough stories of travellers. It is the only way I can experience such tales for myself. Sounds as though you both have had quite the adventure.”
“Reality isn’t so romantic. This isn’t a journey I sought out.”
“If that’s true, then why leave your life in the city?”
With a singular, bitter laugh, Ravi lowered his voice and spoke with an expression of deadly seriousness, “Because I’m Jishun Ravi Jie, convicted of murder and high treason.” After a moment of silence, he broke into a wide grin. “Kidding. I’m going home someday. There’s just something I need to see through first. If it wasn’t such a treacherous path back here, I’d even show you the stone shores of Lanyan. They’re quite the sight at this time of year.”
“Is that a promise?” Ai asked, leaning ever closer.
“The legend of Jishun Jie, a charmer, criminal and romanticist,” Fuu scoffed, “What shall my foolish brother conjure up next?”
Ravi grinned like a smug child and finally lifted his tea from the tray. The steam wafted into his nostrils with a malty freshness. It was still piping hot- barely cool enough to drink. Just as he liked it.
Ai snatched his wrist before the teacup could reach his cracked lips. The hot, murky liquid splashed upon the tatami mat as a brown stain. Her shocked expression mirrored Ravi’s own. Only one word left the woman’s mouth.
“Don’t.”