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Guardian of the Dream - Part 1 Chapter 3 - The Flower's Guardian

Guardian of the Dream

(Book 3 of the Guardian of the Spirit Series)

Author: Uehashi Nahoko
Translator: Ainikki the Archivist
 

 Part One - The Dream of the Flower

Chapter 3 - The Flower's Guardian

 

    "I was born in a small Yakoo village. There aren't many of those left anymore. All the villagers were relatives, and according to Yakoo law you can't marry each other even if you're only distantly related, so intermarriage with the Yogoese people from a village downstream was common."

    Torogai leaned forward, closer to the fire. "I'm sure you can imagine, but I’ve always been at least a little strange. I was born that way."

    Torogai grinned broadly at Tanda. "Waking up at dawn, working all day, then sleeping. Getting married, having kids, getting old and dying. In this village where everyone thought this way of life was normal and no one ever considered anything else, I always thought that there had to be some other way to live.

    "I liked listening to ballads sung by traveling singers during festivals because they gave me such wonderful dreams. Dreams of far-away countries that made my heart beat faster. I longed for adventure.

    “But dreams were a luxury I couldn’t afford. When I turned fourteen, I was married to a farmer I'd never even met before, from the village downstream." A harsh light glinted in Torogai's eyes. "He was a terrible man. He worked hard, but that was the only thing that was good about him. He had no kindness for me, or anyone really, and when the children were born he didn't show them any affection either.

    “The village we lived in was much poorer than the ones near here. Most of the women I knew gave birth to ten children over the course of their lives. Usually, only three or four of those children survived.”

Tanda’s mouth set in a grim line.

    "At fifteen I gave birth to my first child, then later I had my other two. All of them died. My husband wasn't particularly sad about it. He thought we could easily have a few more.

    "But I couldn't think like that. For a while after losing my second son, I thought I could hear his laughter. I thought I could sense him  running around my feet as I walked.

    She sighed. "I was strange as a girl, and I became even stranger then. I couldn't overcome the grief of losing my children like the other women could. The longings I’d felt as a girl never went away. I’d suppressed them--pushed them down--but after losing my second son, they surfaced and sparked to life again.

    “Not long after that, I was called away by the mountains.”

    Tanda nodded sadly. Sometimes women disappeared into the mountains after losing a child. Some never returned. Many came back to their villages weeks later, their clothing torn and half-starving. When this happened, the villagers said that the unfortunate woman was called away by the mountains’ to end her grief.

    "Staying in the village made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. I picked herbs and grasses in the mountains to calm myself. I didn’t always remember running being called by the mountains. One moment, I was working in the fields outside my village, and the next I was enclosed by high stone peaks.” She shrugged.

    "On the day that I was called away from my village for good, I was working in the fields when my head started hurting horribly.  Before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of the mountains. I rested in the shade of the trees for a while. When it was time for me to go back, I decided that I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to go back to that village ever again.

    "I was curious about what I’d find if I kept going deeper into the mountains. Deeper and deeper… I wouldn't have even minded if I’d collapsed and died back then."

    "It was about this time of year then, too; breathing in the mountain air was like drowning in the smell of fresh leaves and summer wildflowers. I kept walking into the blue-red light of sunset while tripping over roots and getting caught on bushes."

    Another pause. Tanda didn’t say anything.

    "By dawn,” Torogai said, there was nothing but mountains all around me. I stumbled on the bank of a huge lake. A white mist slid slowly across the dark shimmery surface. The lake was so still; not a single ripple marred it. I felt like time was standing still.

    "I think at this point I fell asleep, crouching by the bank. I never knew if what happened next was a dream or if it truly happened. It felt real.

    “In this dream, I was asleep on the shore of the lake when the wind’s caress awakened me. I felt as if my son was calling me, so I panicked and woke myself up. When I opened my eyes, I saw something suspended over the surface of the lake, floating above the water."

    "What was it?" Tanda asked

    "A huge imperial palace. Upside-down. At first I thought it was just a reflection of a palace that stood on the opposite shore, but there was nothing on the other shore. The palace was upside-down in the middle of the lake.

    “I’d never seen an imperial palace before, but I really liked the ballads those traveling performers sang, so I guessed what it was. When I was little I liked making up stories before going to sleep. Out of those, I liked one about nobles living in a grand palace and falling in love the best." 

    She chuckled to herself. “I was a foolish girl, but my knowledge of those silly songs helped me then. They helped me during my life in the village, too. When the wind and rain blew into our crude hut, where we didn't have shilya bedding or any bedding at all, I would have such dreams. Curled up on the dirt floor covered in ashes for warmth, I dreamed of beautiful lives elsewhere. In the light of day, I was a hideous, impoverished girl, but in my dreams I was a noble lady.

    After I got married, I forgot those dreams. But the presence of that palace in the lake made me remember them. I still remember it clearly. The roof was untreated wood, but the shingles were carved with elaborate patterns.  A giant gate stood towering over it, facing the depths of the lake. The inside of the palace was full of twisting corridors that never took me where I expected to go." She smiled wistfully, as if she wanted to return.

    "A tall young man came out of the gate to greet me. He wore long gray robes cut in a style I’d never seen before, tied shut with a deep green sash. The young man wasnt surprised to see me. He said something like, ‘It's cold isn't it?'"

    "I told him it was. The dreamlike spell kept its hold. I felt like we knew one another, though we’d certainly never met before. He lit a bonfire on the pebbled shore. We had a pleasant conversation, but I don't really remember what we talked about.

    "When we were warm, he told me that he was the Flower's Guardian. I didn’t understand what that meant. He told me that the Flower is magical. It uses dreams like ordinary flowers use sunlight and water--to nourish itself.

    "The next part, I remember exactly, word-for-word. He said, ‘A man named Rosetta died today. He journeyed to many lands to sing songs and touched many people's dreams while he was alive. He had the soul of an artist, which is always full of dreams. He was a good host for the Flower.

    ‘In his last moments, he dreamed of the seed's sprouting, and this world was born. Right now, the Flower is this world. When the seed sprouts, this world is born. When the Flower withers, this world disappears. But if the Flower drops a seed, and that seed sprouts and takes root in the spirit of a good host like Rosetta, this world will be born anew.

    ‘I am the Guardian of the Flower, born when the seed sprouted. My duty is to help the Flower grow, and to ensure that the spirit that will become the seed's next host is reborn into a new life.' "

    "The young man stood and offered me his hand. Though I was somewhat bewildered, I took it. His touch made my body light, as if I could fly. We glided through the air above the water of the lake and entered the upside-down palace.

    “As we glided over the water, I realized that it wasn’t water at all. It only looked that way from a distance. Up close, I could tell that it was undulating blue light. It was like the blue of dawn, just before the sun rises.

    "There was no one at all inside the palace except for the two of us.  When I looked up, I saw the plain wooden roof far above. I remember seeing blue light moving there in the same way ripples do on the water's surface.

    "I stepped down into a huge garden surrounded by white clay walls. There were many tall trees there that I didn't recognize. You couldn’t call it a garden, really--it wasn’t tended well enough for that--but it was a green spot surrounded by mountains. In the center of it, there was a cool spring with incredibly clear water. At the bottom of the spring, I saw a tiny green sprout growing in a bed of white sand.”

    Torogai crossed her legs and rested her chin in her hands. When she spoke again, her expression was somber.

    "After that, my memory blurs. I don’t recall what all I did there, or even how long I stayed. I only remember that I was very happy. I loved the Flower’s Guardian. I loved him with an intensity I had never felt before. I got pregnant and gave birth to a child. I think it was a boy."

    Some charcoal fell to pieces in the fire with a rustling noise, blackened and burned out.

    "The Flower's Guardian cradled the child in his arms and said: ‘This child has a soul born of you and me. He is a bridge between our worlds. Even after he is brought to your world, he will visit this palace every night in his dreams. In these lovely dreams, he will help the Flower grow.

    When the Flower reaches full bloom, he will sing, calling more dreams to pollinate it. He will enter your world as the new host of the Flower.' "

    "‘Like Rosetta?' I asked. He nodded, then responded:

    ‘Yes. This child's soul was once called Rosetta. But now he is our child. His life will proceed on a different path.' 

    "I was mystified. Why would the Flower's Guardian have a child with an ugly woman like me? When I asked this, he seemed surprised.

    "‘Ugly? No; you are not ugly. You are strong and beautiful. While wounded and dreaming of death, your soul shone like a star. We are this child’s parents. Me, the Flower's Guardian, and you with your strong and beautiful soul. We were meant to have him.' "

    The firelight played over Torogai’s face. Her craggy wrinkles seemed to sink deeper into her face in the shadows.

    "Then the Flower's Guardian told me about the Night of the Flower. He said: Over the next few decades, the seedling in that garden will grow and blossom. When it reaches full bloom, the Night of the Flower will come. On that night, dreams from your world will come to pollinate the Flower.

    ‘The first dreamer to arrive will pollinate the Flower. Not every dreamer will, but for a new seed to appear, the Flower must take in many dreams as nourishment. Those who offer their dreams to the Flower will be rewarded with the most pleasant dreams.  

    When the Flower drops a seed, a wind will arise and carry it into your world, scattering the Flower’s petals in preparation for a new seed to sprout.

    As he spoke, I felt the wind on my skin, though the air had seemed calm and quiet before. When I asked what happens to the dreamers whose dreams nourish the Flower, the Flower's Guardian looked me in the eyes and said, ‘The wind will take them back… if they wish to go.' "

    Torogai glanced over at Tanda. "The Flower's Guardian didn't say any more on the topic, but I understood painfully well what he meant. I didn't want to go back. Even if I died right there and then, I didn't want to return to that village. When I stumbled into the world of the Flower, I must have been drawn there by how close I was to death. The desire for survival is strong in people, as it is in other animals. I wonder why people feel irresistibly drawn to death sometimes--the feeling goes against our most primal instincts.

    "The Flower's world was full of life. The earthy smell reminded me of fresh green leaves on the trees in spring, but underneath, there was the faint sweet scent of decay. It felt like life and death were right next to each other, separated only by a thin film, like a layer of foam on surface of the water. Like the skin that forms on broth." She smiled faintly.

    "But the Flower didn’t force you to stay. You came back because you wanted to live?"

    Torogai snorted. "Seems so, doesn’t it?"

    Relieved, Tanda breathed deeply. "Then Kaya will definitely return. She wasn't in utter despair like you were back then. Right, master?"

    Torogai didn't answer.

    "Master?"

    "Yeah. Kaya should be fine, but in my case…"

    Torogai's mouth twisted in a bitter smile. "The Flower's Guardian said I was strong. He chose me to be the host's mother because he saw in me the strength to come back from that dream and keep on living. But I’m not sure I would have been able to make it back all on my own."

    "Huh?"

    "Someone pulled me back to this world. I didn’t choose to come back until she helped me." Torogai paused, considering her words again.  "One day, while I was talking to the Flower's Guardian, a shining white bird came flying in from above. Wind buffeted its wings. That wind was as cold as a gust of air slapping me in the face on a winter morning.

    “The bird landed near me and transformed into a tall, thin, middle-aged woman. She spun, looking around herself, then saw me. She raised an eyebrow, then said: ‘Well, isn't this a beautiful dream?' "

    "She shattered the illusion that the life I’d been living in the world of the Flower was real. I was annoyed with her for that. She noticed me glaring at her and raised her hands as if she wanted to defend herself.

    ‘Stop that! You can't get mad. If you get mad, a monster might come.' 

    "I had no clue what she meant. I was angry. So angry! I screamed at her to leave. I was also scared. What if the dream ended and I woke up because of her? I desperately tried chasing her out of there. I begged her to leave" Torogai shook her head. “I hadn’t realized just how deeply I’d fallen into the dream. I’d replaced my real life with it, though I hadn’t meant to.

    “The woman leaned in and put her hand on my shoulder. Her eyes were suffused with white light. They were the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. She placed both of her hands around my cheeks and said: I’m sorry for bothering you, Truly, I am. It will  be painful, but you have to wake up. If you stay here like this, the body you left behind will weaken and die.' "

    "I walked away from her. I didn't want to go back. I thought dying in the Flower's dream with the young man I loved was much better than going back to that life."

    "But she followed me. She held me tightly and didn't let go. Putting her heart into each word, she said: ‘You're much stronger than you think.  If you're prepared to die, then you're prepared to throw away everything. Do that, and come with me. Your new life won’t be like the one here, but there will be joy in it--joy that you can find for yourself. There’s still so much you don't know about our world!' "

    Torogai snorted. "She was cold--so cold, like the wind that brought her into the wold of the Flower. That freezing wind awakened something deep within me. I didn’t want to die--not really. What I wanted was not to suffer. If I could live without going back to my village, I was willing to give it a try. 

    "When I turned away from the woman again, the Flower's Guardian was smiling at me. ‘It's time for you to go back,’ he said. ‘Take hold of our son's soul and take him with you. If you do that, he will be born as someone's child in your world.' "

    “He handed our son to me. The grief that had brought me here in dreams returned to me. Here was a child who had never been born--not in the real world. I wondered if our baby wanted to live, too.

    "The Flower’s Guardian cupped my face and gently stroked my hair, saying, ‘Tomca, please don’t be sad. We will meet again. Leaving this place now doesn’t mean you’ll never see me again.' "

    Torogai heaved a long sigh. "When I woke up, I was lying in the grass by the shore of the lake. It was dawn. I panicked and stood up, looking for traces of the bonfire that I remembered, but of course, there weren't any."

    Torogai closed her eyes briefly, the opened them. "You understand, right? I knew it was a dream. But I also felt like it wasn't a normal dream. That's why I wasn't surprised when the same tall, middle-aged woman from the dream came to meet me at the lake shore. She was sitting in the reeds.

    "She pointed at my chest. I felt a sharp pain as a light that looked similar to a firefly’s flew away from me, straight up. I thought it was going to keep rising into the sky forever, but then it flew over the mountains and vanished out of sight.

    ‘Did you see that light just now?' " the woman asked.

    "I nodded. Waking from my dream left me feeling aching and lonely.

    ‘As I thought, you have potential,’ the woman said in a tone of satisfaction. Potential to become a great magic weaver.' "

    "I asked her if that light was my son's soul. She told me it was. ‘Yes. That was the light of a soul, I think. This is the first time I've seen something like that, so I can't be sure.'

    ‘Speaking of things I've seen for the first time... that dream was really strange, wasn't it? I managed to follow your soul  to a place in Nayugu, but your dream and that world were affecting each other in some pretty bizarre ways. It was a hard world to get out of,  like the depths of a whirlpool. If I’d slipped up anywhere, I would have been trapped there as well. How long were you there? It doesn’t matter; we’ve escaped for the moment.' "

    Torogai grinned wryly. "At the time, I didn't understand what she was saying. I was worried about what had happened to my son. I shook her and shouted, ‘What did you do to my son's soul? Where did you send it?' 

    She raised both her hands, then spoke in a soothing tone. ‘I didn't do anything. I only pointed at the soul you were clutching to your chest. That soul flew off all by itself. By now it's probably inside the belly of some woman living beyond the mountains.' "

    When I heard that the child I gave birth to was going to be some other woman's child, I was surprised, or maybe pissed off, or both… I stood there seething. Lonely again.

    “The woman set a hand on my shoulder. ‘Please don't be angry. Your mother didn’t make your soul. Someone else’s soul went to the afterlife and was reborn after forgetting everything that had happened to them in life.  That soul found you in your mother’s womb and attached to you. That's the order of this world. But I guess that your son’s fate will be extraordinary.' "

    “‘Why?’ I asked.

    “‘Because you are extraordinary.’ Her eyes were kind. ‘Souls in this world are linked by mysterious threads. You might meet him again someday.' "

    Torogai looked into the flickering fire. “I’m sure you guessed already that the woman was Norugai, my master.  She was in the mountains that day looking for herbs and had decided to camp there overnight. She noticed me wandering in the middle of the night without any light. She was worried about me, so she followed me to the lake. 

    "After I fell asleep, she felt the same wind that I’d felt when I first entered the world of the Flower. She said she saw countless souls drifting above the lake. She tried sending her soul to the world this wind was coming from, not knowing what she would find.

    “Like me, Norugai saw the upside-down palace in the lake. She saw it, but she couldn't reach it no matter how hard she tried. She kept trying, and saw a young man come to my side at the edge of the lake. She watched us go into the palace."

    "Norugai was about to give up and leave until she saw all the other souls drifting over the lake disappear into the wooden palace after us. She was worried about what would happen to me.

    "Entering other worlds is very dangerous. She didn’t want to risk it, but she didn’t want to abandon me, either. At sunrise, she made up her mind and followed the Soul Thread that joined my body to my soul into the Flower's world.

    The dream was long enough for me to give birth to a child, but in this world, it only lasted a single night. Under the light of the morning sun, I listened to a story that sounded like a dream. I felt reborn. I haven't returned to my husband's village once since then. I no longer called myself Tomca.

    “After that, I followed Norugai over the mountains, learned magic weaving from her and became as you see me. That was… over fifty years ago now."

    Tanda looked at Torogai. "The Flower's Guardian? I wonder  what happened to your son, and the Flower. Do you think it’s time for the Flower to sprout again? Is it calling dreaming souls over into its world again?”

    Torogai scratched her ear. "Who knows? You said that when you were examining your niece there was a flower smell. That's why I told you about this."

    Tanda took a deep breath in, then let it out. He had much to think about now. "Even if it’s not the Flower causing this, we should try a Soul Call to find Kaya’s soul and wake her up. Isn’t that what Norugai did for you, Master?”

    “Yes.”

    Not every magic weaver was as well-intentioned as Torogai and her master. Some cursed people in exchange for money. Curses could draw out a soul from the body, so Tanda had performed Soul Calls before. In order to guide a soul back, a magic weaver had to separate their own souls from their bodies for a brief time. It was dangerous, not least because the magic weaver’s body was completely vulnerable while their soul was gone.

    Torogai’s gaze was full of concern for her apprentice.  "It’s not as easy as it should be. Even my master, Norugai, thought the Flower's world was a strange land. She said it was easy to enter, but hard to leave. Like the depths of a whirlpool…" She shook her head. "People might be perfectly happy to dream those dreams. You might not be able to guide her back. She might not want to."

    “But--”

    "--if it is the Night of the Flower right now,” Torogai interrupted,  “then that world is at its peak.  If you get stuck there, you might never be able to leave. I'm warning you so that you understand the risk."

    Tanda nodded. "Maybe it's better to wait for Kaya to wake up naturally, but I can’t just sit here and wait for her to die. If she doesn’t wake up in a few days, I’ll try a Soul Call."

    Torogai hmphed. "You and Balsa have too much in common. If you think you have to do something, you’ll do it, and hang everything else, including your own safety." Her eyes took on a hard glint. "But Tanda, you aren’t Balsa. She doesn't dream of the future. When she risks her life, she doesn’t consider the possibility of survival. She looks death in the eye. Can you do that?"

    "You think I can’t?"

    "No." Torogai smiled. "That’s not it. I just hoped you thought differently. Like I said, you and Balsa have too much in common. You’re the kind of man who would die for an idea. For a dream. You're that kind of idiot."

    Tanda flinched.

    "Don’t misunderstand me,” Torogai said. “I don't want you to die like that."

    Tanda wrinkled his nose. "Stop trying to shove one of my feet into the grave. I’m not dead yet, and I’m not planning to die. Risking death isn’t the same as courting it."

    Torogai reached for a blanket that had been warmed by the cooking fire. She yawned. "We'll go check on your niece tomorrow. We can decide whether or not to do the Soul Call after that."

 

***

 

    While Torogai told Tanda of her dream, Balsa and Yugno made camp in the mountains. It was a windy night, but the wind didn’t trouble them as long as they kept close to their bonfire.

    Yugno knew a lot of songs and stories, so he made for an entertaining companion. He sang in a quiet voice, almost a whisper, so that it wouldn’t carry far. The hushed tone of his voice was soothing and haunting by degrees.

    The lyrical tale of a nation destroyed long ago struck Balsa as particularly fine. "Who taught you that song?” she asked. Did you have a singing master?"

    Yugno drank a few sips of water from a bamboo flask, then wiped his mouth. "There are singing masters, but I never had one. I learned songs from other traveling performers.  If you go towards the border, you get to meet singers from all over--Old Yogo, Kanbal, Sangal…” He smiled. “I’m probably not fluent in all the languages that you know, but I’ve picked up quite a lot of vocabulary from songs.”

    Balsa shrugged. "Most of the traveling singers I’ve met speak three languages. Apply yourself a little more and you’ll catch up."

    Yugno ignored her and ate a fruit-filled rice flour cake  that hed warmed up over the fire on a sharpened stick. After eating, he wiped his hands on his knees and scratched at the slight stubble on his chin. "You gain a certain cultural understanding by trading tales and stories, like I’ve done. Most countries have a few similar legends, even if they’re far apart from one another.”

    Yugno looked up at the night sky. Clouds drifted across the sky, partially obscuring the fingernail-shaped moon. "I sometimes think that songs are like flower seeds that get blown far distances by the wind, like white dandelion heads."

    Balsa smiled a little. "That would make you the wind that carries the seeds.”

    "Yes." Yugno laughed, but when he looked at Balsa, his expression was serious. "I don't just make flowers bloom in other lands. My music opens doors that are closed to many people. I’m pretty famous as ‘Yugno the Bard,’ you know. I was a little surprised you hadn’t heard of me. Last week, I was asked to sing for the First Queen of New Yogo herself."

    Balsa’s eyes narrowed. "I thought the imperial family never interacted with commoners.” 

    "It's different for traveling entertainers. We don’t have a fixed social status. The songs of traveling bards are said to carry good luck and happiness."

    "I see. That's why there are so many performers for the new year celebration. And for festivals."

    "Yes. Can I tell you a secret?”

Balsa blinked, but before she could say anything, Yugno kept speaking. “The First Queen has locked herself up in the Mountain Palace for almost a year. Grieving for her poor son, you know. She’s been ill. That’s why they sent for me. They wanted me to console her grief with music.

    “There was a feast to accompany the music. And what a feast it was! Not only were nobles there, but also Star Readers and even the new Crown Prince. Such a gathering! I’ve never sung for so many nobles in my life, and I expect I’ll never see such a grand gathering again."

    Balsa flinched when she heard Chagum’s name. She’d parted with him after saving him from his father’s assassination attempts and the mysterious circumstances surrounding the Nyunga Ro Im, the egg of a water spirit from Nayugu. They’d spent half a year living and traveling together, but she hadn’t seen him since he’d returned to the Imperial Palace in Kosenkyo.

    The Crown Prince had died in Chagum’s absence, so when he’d returned, he’d been named the new Crown Prince. He would succeed his father as the Mikado someday.

    If Sagum hadn't died then, would Chagum still be with me now?

    There were times when Balsa wondered if things might have turned out differently. Yungo, oblivious to Balsa’s mental anguish, kept talking as if she wasn’t there.

    "When I say I sang at the Mountain Palace, I mean that I was standing in the inner courtyard and the First Queen was far away, hidden behind a bamboo screen. I didn't even see her shadow." Yugno chuckled and shifted to look at Balsa. "Should I sing you the song that I sang there?"

    Balsa nodded absently. She wasnt really paying attention to him. 

    Yugno grinned, then sang his song.

    It was a love song. The melody was gentle and bright, but the song itself was tinged with melancholia at the edges. Listening to it was painful enough to pull Balsa out of her equally melancholy thoughts.  

    She almost told Yugno to stop singing. But she didn’t. She felt like she couldn’t speak and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to focus herself. She saw Chagum's face behind her closed eyelids. He hadn’t wanted to part from her, either. His face when they’d said goodbye still pained her.

    What if she was his real mother? Part of her wanted that. A life as Chagum’s mother would be a happier one than the life that she had. Yugno’s song increased her dissatisfaction with things as they were. The life she wanted became fixed and clear in her mind; she felt like she’d be willing to give up anything to get it.

    The song ended, and Balsa snapped out of its spell. She gulped in air like she was drowning and clamped down hard on the thoughts that the song had stirred up within her. She didn’t want to think about what had happened. She knew her life wasn’t perfect, and she wasn’t expecting it to be. She also knew that there were some things that she wanted that she’d never be able to have.

    Balsa wiped her face with her sweaty hands and stared at Yugno in astonishment. He raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong? Didn’t you like it?"

    "No. I don't know. It was a very beautiful song, but…" Balsa fumbled for words. “It made me miss what I’ve lost. I felt the pain of yearning for something that I can't have. Wasn't this a cruel choice of song for a queen who had lost her son?"

     "Cruel?" Yugno sounded surprised.

    "Yes. The song must have made her think about her son. And it's not like he's gonna come back. Making her think of him when she’ll never see him again is cruel."

    Yugno tilted his head in a bird-like way. "Do you think so? I think letting her experience the happiness she once felt, even just for a moment, would help her feel better. I've been singing this song in a lot of places this past spring. Everyone seems to like it. Sometimes they like it so much that they cry. I think that she was grateful that she heard it.”

    Yugno smiled widely, his face supernaturally young and lit from within by some secret source of light. Balsa shrugged, unwilling to argue the point. "Interesting. I guess it’s a good song. You can’t expect me to be cultured or refined or anything.”

    A consummate entertainer, Yugno sang a happy song to cheer Balsa up, seeming pleased to keep singing for the evening. Balsa hummed along to the song, but the one he’d sung previously still hung in the air, heavy and not forgotten. Balsa wondered if she would ever forget that song, or if its echoes would remain in the mountains forever. 

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