27ish

“Tsuda! I’m so happy to see you, I have something amazing to tell you!” Mede ran up to join her friend on the path to the market place. The two girls linked their arms and entered the crowded market.

“I need to go almost everywhere, is there anything in particular you need?” Mede asked Tsuda.

“No, not especially, but I want to go to the fabric seller’s booth; I need to see if they have some dyes that I want to try.”

Mede examined the fruit, and began selecting a variety of them. “Oh really? Are the girls doing some new things with fabrics in the lessons? I thought you were still working on weaving.”

Tsuda sighed, and rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, the hammocks, because goodness knows the stars will fall from the sky if the girls of Leti do not learn to make their hammocks. No, the dye is for me, I just want to try something. I don’t even know if it will work at all.” Her thoughts drifted back to the small figurine she had left drying in the sun that morning.

The two girls walked back towards Mede’s house, laden with bags. The sun shone overhead, but the breezes blew from the sea and cooled the air to a pleasant mildness. Tsuda’s heart rose as she walked side by side with her friend, and she soon found herself singing. The tune was one that any Astaldak child would know, and she made the words up as she went.

“As I was a-walking
Down to the fair seashore
Along with my dear friend,
The joy of my heart,

The wind it was springing
The birds they were singing
The sun shone down brightly
Upon us that day.”

Mede laughed uproariously, and joined in:

“We jumped from the cliffside
And swam in the ocean
We ran under the sun and played in the light

Then when the dark night fell
And the stars shone brightly
Then we went to join them
Forever in light.”

Tsuda smiled, and kicked up a small spray of sand. “Do you really believe that part?”
“Which part?” Mede unlinked her arm, and twirled lightly over the sand on the beach.
“Careful, you don’t want your foot to split open again. That part about being forever in light.”
Mede shrugged, tucking the hem of her skirt into the waistband. “I think so. Otherwise I don’t see much point in all this living and learning and dying. It’s such a waste otherwise.”

“Well, then, what’s wrong with the monk’s way of doing things? They keep saying to free ourselves from desire, to let go of earthly things…How is your way any different?” The two began wading carefully through the surf as the waves rushed up the beach. Mede was careful to step around any bits of shell or driftwood that had washed up on the shore. Stepping delicately around a bright yellow driki shell, she replied, “Well for one thing, I don’t plan to get rid of my desires. Control them, yes; direct them to the proper things, of course.” She looked up and grinned suddenly. “But how can you think that all the things you want are bad?” She flung an arm towards the horizon: Selni was visible through the mist, and the sea shone bluie and green in the golden sun. “There, does that not make you desire to be on Selni? Smell the breeze that blows across the waters; I can smell the oils and spices! And how can that be bad?”

Tsuda reveled in the scent for a moment before looking at her friend. “That’s not an answer, you know. Of course the body would desire such things, but who is to say that the soul does not draw back from them?”

“Oh, you silly girl! You never used to ask so many questions. Let me think…oh! It’s like a cahbi fruit. You peel back the rind to get to the sweet seeds; the seeds are like the spirit. Yes, the seeds are the purpose of having the fruit in the first place. But you cannot grow the seeds by themselves. When you peel back the rind, you see hundreds of tiny threads, attaching the seeds to the rind itself. It is like that with us. What affects the outside affects the inside, and vice versa. The body is not a prison, but a…well, a window of sorts.” Mede brushed the loose strands of her hair back from her face. “I see you, and by means of my eyes, our souls meet. The body is a gift, not a trap.”

The mood was still and quiet for a few moments, the silence broken only by the water and the cries of the sea birds. Then Mede laughed, “I’m sorry, I got too serious again. It’s just that it’s been so long since I’ve been able to talk to anyone about these things.”

“What about your father? Isn’t he interested?”

“Oh yes, but he’s hardly ever home. I think eventually he will stop coming home at all, but as long as I am not yet grown, I think he feels obligagted to make an effort.” She grasped her friend’s arm. “I almost forgot to tell you, Tsuda, last night he showed me how to go back a little further! I only got a glimpse, but I know I can do better with practice. But no more of that now. I feel like I could almost burst with energy!”

Tsuda laughed and scooped up a handful of seaweed from the shore. Lobbing it at her friend, she yelled,”You’ve been cooped up for too long, Mede! You’ve forgotten how to play!” Whooping she dodged the handful of wet sand that was Mede’s answer, and ran giggling up the beach.

Hours later, Tsuda wandered home, somewhat bedraggled, but very content. It had been too long since she and Mede had run like that over the sands. As she walked, she fingered the small pots of dyes that she carried in a small basket; a small sun-baked clay figure lay in the basket next to them.
As she entered the garden of her house, she saw her mother glance out of the doorway. She waved, and quickly moved to her section of the garden, and stoked up the fire. When the coals were roaring hot again, she buried the clay shape in the depths of the fire, and banked it again for the night. She climbed into her hammock and fell asleep almost instantly.

As the sun peered over the tops of the trees, Tsuda awoke, and stretched her stiff limbs. She was just about to check on the statue, when she saw her mother make her way through the garden. Tsuda slid out of the hammock and tried hastily to comb her out into a semblance of order.

“Good morning, Tsuda, did you sleep well?” Kerin’s smile was bright, but Tsuda thought she could detect a hint of nervousness behind it.

“Yes, I did. I think running around the beach tired me out a little. I havent’ slept that well in a week, I think.”

Kerin sat down in the hammock, and beckoned Tsuda to sit beside her. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Your father and I talked last night, and we think that perhaps we’ve been a bit too lax with you. You’ve been neglecting your lessons, and you never spend time with the other girls.” She held up a hand as Tsuda opened her mouth to speak. “No, we’re not saying that you have to spend less time with Mede—we know how much you mean to each other. But it’s time you began acting more like a woman and less like a child.”

Tsuda sat in silence for a moment, chewing her lower lip nervously. “I suppose that means no more swimming? Or jumping off the cliffs at the beach?”

Kerin laughed, and wrapped an arm round her daughter’s shoulders. “No, not to say that you cannot do those things, just…don’t spend all your time doing them. I will show you more about how to run the household, and we will present you at the temple during the harvest time. That should give you a few years in the maiden’s court before someone speaks for your hand.” She ran a hand lovingly over Tsuda’s white-gold hair. “And I do not think that you will have any difficulty attracting a good husband, with that hair and those eyes. You look so much like my aunt it startles me sometimes.”

“And the other girls? I will be spending more time with them, I assume, in the courts and the lessons?” The young woman shifted uncomfortable on the hammock, her feet dangling awkwardly. Kerin slipped delicately off the hammock, and took Tsuda’s hand between her own. “Don’t worry so much, Tsuda. You will enjoy being a woman. I garuntee it.” She gave her one last smile, and made her way back to the house.

Tsuda knelt down by the fire, and carefully uncovered the statue. She didn’t notice the single tear that dripped down and sizzled on the coals.

The little figurine stood steaming slightly in the cool morning air; Tsuda had brushed the last of the ashes off of it, and used sand to abrase away any remaining imperfections.

It was another winged shape, but this time small stylized flames erupted around it, seeming to propel it upwards into the air. As it sat cooling, she opened the little jars of thick dye paste that the cloth merchant had sold her. They had been expensive, but she thought they might be worth it. She glanced around the garden, and finally picked up a small twig. She rubbed one end of it against a stone until it was soft, and the fibers separated, then dipped it in the jar holding the yellow dye, and slowly spread it onto the form.

As the sun rose higher, she became absorbed in the work, the dye covering her hands in a patchwork of colors. Finally, she stepped back from her work, and her breath caught in her throat. The figure was swathed in a gown of bright blue, dotted all over with golden stars. The wings were of red, green, and purple feathers, each a single brushstroke, and the flames were a roiling mass of red and yellow dye. It wasn’t like anything she had seen before, but she knew that it was beautiful.

Tsuda felt the sun on her shoulders, and turned her face upward to catch its light. It was almost as if, she thought wildly, even the sun approved of her work. She glanced downward again, and for the first time noticed the dye on her hands; streaks of it had gotten onto her skirt as well. She swore under her breath, and quickly rubbed her hands with the sand to remove the dye. Most of it came off, but the specks of blue seemed permanently painted on, and she didn’t know how she would disguise the damage to the skirt. She took off the stained fabric and hastily wrapped a new one around her waist.

She ran down to the river as quickly as she could, and stood on the bank beside the rock. Thrusting the cloth under the cool water, she scrubbed the fabric until she could see streams of color running from the skirt into the water. She held it up, and noted with a groan that once again, all of the colors had come out, except the blue. She wrung the material out, and quietly returned home. She spread the skirt out on the ground, and quickly devised a simple pattern that would disguise the error; kneeling carefully, she daubed the blue dye onto the fabric in a geometrical pattern, and soon the original streaks blended in with the new design. Tsuda spread the cloth on a low wall to dry in the sun, and scrubbed her hands clean again.
The sculpture had dried in the hot sunlight, and Tsuda stored it away in a little box under her hammock. She was about to close the box when a dim glint caught her eye. She reached back in and pulled out a set of small metal hair combs. She had almost forgotten about them, but her parents had given them to her on her last birthday. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now she realized that they were giving here a hint, that it was time to leave childhood behind, and enter into her adult life.

Tsuda sighed, the combs weighing heavily in her hands. She clumsily pulled her hair up, pinning it in place with the combs. Once she was certain that her hair was secure and would not easily come down, she stood, and walked sedately down to the gardens where she knew her classmates would be meeting.