Tsuki ✔️COMPLETE

Chapter 21: The Midlands

Akapashtin Foothills, Akali

Thank the gods for sheepskin throws, Rubi thought as she stretched the heaviness of sleep out of her muscles. Sleeping on the ground was not too awful with their woolen rugs, but how cold you were in the morning after the fire had died down or gone out completely was the worst part.

The cold night left the world crystallized with iced dewdrops, from the spiderwebs in the towering trees to the tiniest sprig of grass. To her surprise, Take'Ichi was always the first one up, absorbing the first of the morning sunshine into his skin and hair. So long as he had the sun, the cold did not bother him much. Being a bamboo sprite had its advantages against the chill.

Next up was usually Sama, who was bouncing with energy and intrigue for what the new day would hold. She was determined to find another sprite out in the wilderness, constantly asking Take'Ichi about every plant that looked special to her. While Take'Ichi did not understand the logistics of her attraction to certain trees and bushes, he assured her that it would be very unusual to find a lone sprite.

They lived communally, usually with many of the same kind and their neighbouring plants. He came from a bamboo grove where his mother, grandmother, and so on had lived and thrived for time immemorial. Their home near the coastline was a special place in his memories and leaving had been a difficult decision, showing more bravery than he gave himself credit for.

Mimi waited in a light doze through the night, her eyes mostly closed, limbs twitching every so often in a dreamlike state. Rubi knew Mimi dreamed. She told her about a fantasy world she only half remembered.

Roads lined with towering buildings studded with bright windows, the lights drawing in passersby as if they were moths. Waving signs blowing in the wind, dark roads striped with white, old temples nestled into gaps on busy streets. People packed shoulder to shoulder with coloured hair, facial jewellery and makeup like Zodwa wore.

Mimi knew it was home once. A long time ago. But then, as if overnight, something changed, and she was high in these mountains needing to walk back to civilisation. Alone.

"It's strange," Mimi said as she pulled on her boots. "This scenery is very familiar. I just can't remember anything that would tell me why."

"That's good though!" Rubi exclaimed. "Being here is jogging your memory. It's helping!"

"I think so." Mimi agreed. "I wish I had more to go on. I don't like being unreliable."

"Don't worry," Rubi assured her friend. "If memories are going to come, they'll come. If not, we just keep trying."

"Thank you, Captain." Mimi replied. "This means a lot."

"You've done more than enough for me. I'm glad we can focus on you for a change."

Rubi flipped open the tent flap, sending snow cascading from the surface. The tent was made from tightly woven wool, which was waterproof as well as insulating. The design was an heirloom from the indigenous people of northern Akali, rectangular and low to the ground, strung up on poles and nailed in place with tough ropes.

Each morning they brushed the night time snow off the structure and packed it down, which they had become surprisingly quick at. The mules were doing well, sheltering at the side of the tent that was spared from the wind and eating the spring greens to their hearts' content. Their thick coats repelled the snow and kept them safe from the cold and damp.

Rubi had noticed that every day the world got a little greener, the surrounding lush with yellow-green conifers, late-winter blooming rhododendrons and twisting juniper trees that bloomed with seed cones several times a year.