Moth and Moon

White Chrysanthemum

The sky above Xie Lian’s head was completely white, covered entirely by a sheet of clouds. Heavy mist rolled through the trees, making visibility low. The damp air clung to his clothes and chilled him to the bone. Despite this, he was out in his garden working.

The garden beds themselves were rather small, with neat rows tilled into the soil. The garden had a mushroom ring of protection around it, just like Xie Lian’s cottage and his chicken coop did. Not only did they keep out malicious creatures, but the slugs and other pests did not seem too fond of the magic toadstools either and steered clear.

Not that it mattered, anyways.

Xie Lian picked one of his newly-ripe green bean pods and looked at it, not knowing whether he should laugh or cry. He wasn't sure if it was the soil, the location, or just plain bad luck, but everything he grew either died before it could even flower, or produced extremely bizarre results. The green bean pod that he held in his hand was about as long as half his thumb, and, strangely enough, its width was the same thickness as an ordinary green bean. Well, it would probably still taste fine, and that was what was important.

Xie Lian dropped it into his worn basket, where there was already a moderate pile of them. Within the basket were also deformed carrots (which were not meant to be miniature, but somehow were). He finished gathering the vegetables that he needed for dinner, then set the basket down and went back to search for little unwelcome green shoots amongst the soft, damp earth. A few small weeds were beginning to rear their heads, but he swiftly dealt with them. His poor plants were already struggling enough and did not need another reason.

When he was sure that there were no more rascally weeds hiding in his garden, Xie Lian wiped his forehead with his sleeve. He paused, then lowered his hand and saw how dirty it was. He curled his fingers in slowly, staring at the rough, grimy hand. He swallowed dryly, and his throat pressed up against the shackle around his neck.

Xie Lian picked up the basket and started towards the nearby stream. It felt nice to be walking, as opposed to hunching over his plants. The fog was so thick that he could not see very far in front him. The fiery colors of the deciduous trees amongst the evergreen ones stood out in the white shroud of mist blanketing the forest. The occasional glowing shape flitted in the distance. Spirits, probably. Little ghost fires wandering aimlessly with little consciousness.

Xie Lian started down the path to the water, and suddenly tripped on a root. He fell down the slope, and his hands took the full impact of the fall as they slammed into the stones on the bank. He had gone down this path countless times, and yet he still managed to get his foot caught on that root. Xie Lian wearily rose to his feet, and inspected his palms to see smears of red amongst the dirt and rocks embedded into his skin. Ruoye investigated the scrapes, its tongue flicking out.

“Ah, it’s okay,” Xie Lian assured the little snake. This was nothing compared to some things he had been through in the past. He barely felt it at all. He pulled up his long sleeves, and Ruoye wrapped around his shoulders to be out of his way while he washed the vegetables in the stream. The water was cold and clear because it originated from a nearby spring. Xie Lian took a silver ladle off of his belt and scooped up some of the water to drink. It felt so cool and nice in his parched throat. He realized that he had been thirsty, ironic considering how wet and cold it was outside.

While he was there, Xie Lian scrubbed his hands and face as well. But no matter how hard he tried, there were still traces of black beneath his fingernails. He shook his head, sighed, and bent down to pick up the basket. As he straightened, his back decided to send an aching pain up his spine that lingered as he started back towards his cottage. His sandals made muffled thuds against the packed dirt of the path he had carved by his footsteps over the years.

This routine was monotonous and familiar. Day in and day out, his body went through the motions. Xie Lian sat down on a mossy log beside his cottage, suddenly feeling exhausted although he had not exerted himself very much. His sleep the night before had been fitful and nauseating. He recalled little about his dreams besides flashes of faces belonging to people that used to be a part of his life, distorted and blurry; there was also a sea of hands, grabbing him and violently tearing at his clothes and wings in relentless waves.

It was best not to dwell on it- remembering the dream fragments stirred up memories that he would rather forget, and made Xie Lian feel phantom pain in the empty space between his shoulder blades...

Xie Lian picked up a small stone resting on the log next to him, and rubbed it back and forth between his fingers. Ruoye slipped down his arm to see if it was food. Quickly realizing that it wasn’t, the snake retracted its head again.

Xie Lian wondered to himself what the rock’s story was. Had it come from a much larger rock, and eroded downstream? He imagined it, once a part of a proud and noble mountain, breaking off and being pummeled by weather and the river’s never-ending current. He pictured the stone getting smaller and smaller, dragged through the mud and bashed against larger rocks. Losing pieces of itself, bit by bit, until it was unrecognizable as the same rock it once was.

Xie Lian lowered his hand to his side and slowly opened it. The stone tumbled away. He looked over his cottage, his garden, his small chicken coop. Winter was just around the corner, and he didn’t know what to do. His harvests were never bountiful, but this year’s had been particularly paltry. He only had three copper coins tucked away- not nearly enough to let him buy enough food for the whole of winter.

He ran a hand softly over the springy moss next to him. He had three hens, but as a testament to his bad luck, they rarely laid eggs. Fairies ate eggs, but didn’t eat meat (it made his kind sick and was against their morals), and although it wasn’t ideal, if he had to resort to it then he would. He had eaten meat in the past, and far more vile things than that, in the name of survival.

Ruoye, likely sensing that something was wrong, slithered up to poke Xie Lian’s cheek gently with its snout. Xie Lian smiled and chuckled softly as he patted the snake’s head. He would make it somehow. No matter how bad his luck was or how much the odds were stacked against him, he always did.

Xie Lian absentmindedly picked pine needles and bits of moss off of his shuhe trousers, and noticed a tear at his inner thigh. Ah, he would have to mend it later. It didn’t seem to matter how much time had passed, he never quite got the hang of sewing properly. When he was younger, somebody else… did it for him. Well, all that person was now was a face that haunted his dreams, and Xie Lian was left to his own devices.

He stood and brushed off his trousers a final time, then curved his spine backwards to stretch his sore back. Ruoye did a little stretch of its own, sticking out its neck. Xie Lian stepped in between his growing zucchinis (which were far from ripe, yet had grown to monstrous proportions), and inspected the leaves. They seemed to be doing just fine, which was a relief. Maybe he could make it through the winter on various zucchini-based dishes. However, he had learned to not count his metaphorical chickens until after they’d hatched.

The wind picked up, pulling on Xie Lian’s sleeves and tangling his hair. He clamped a hand onto his bamboo hat to keep it from flying away, and turned so that his back was against the wind. In the foggy depths of the forest before him, Xie Lian saw movement. He watched as the blurry shape came into focus as a humanoid figure. The first detail he noticed was the color of the person’s clothing, a vibrant scarlet. Almost inaudible at first, the sound of jingling bells echoed throughout the clearing.

The strange man dressed in brilliant red was walking towards him, emerging from the mist.