#Airisu: The Crow and the Witch
Okiku (Airisu POV): Post 38
#Wss366 color #TimeTravelAuthors 05/21. Do characters meet any relatives when they time travel?
The fog had lifted, and we found ourselves on a narrow mountain path. The moon now hung over pines growing along the bottom of a cliff face. In their shadows, a lean-to of boughs stood between the trees. It was from this rude dwelling that the firelight and voice had emerged.
Sumika took a deep breath. "Let me do the talking. There's no point in freaking them out."
Without waiting for an answer, she stepped toward the shelter, ducked, and entered.
Inside sat a woman with sallow skin, wild hair shot with gray, and weathered robes. She looked up from tending a pot and a teakettle hanging over a small fire and gave a welcoming smile, revealing teeth rotted from age. She might have been a Buddhist hermit, but her clothes were unsuitable for someone of that holy profession. Instead, I judged her to be a mountain witch, a wandering shaman, or a folk healer.
The space was neat with few belongings. Pine needles covered the floor, filling the room with a heavy, resinous scent. Behind her was a shallow cave containing a bed of ferns and a few tattered blankets.
I cocked my head, inspecting the woman. Then, crooning so only Sumika could hear, I said, “I hate to tell you, but she looks like you.” And she did. Age had dulled the #color of her black hair and wilted her flesh, but her oval face and mischievous eyes were the same. The tilt of her chin and the motion of her hands were calmer than Sumika’s, yet had the same natural grace. She could have been Mistress’s older sister or mother.
“As I might,” the woman said, coughed, and wiped the blood that appeared on her lips with a dried dock leaf. “Instead of finding the blessed land, I shall dwell in Kakuriyo until Dōken-shin calls me back to the world. Life is like this leaf,” she said, throwing the red-stained object into the fire, where it briefly blazed. “But the wheel turns, and tender buds spring forth where they once grew.”
“Hmm,” I thought and began puzzling over the metaphors.
“But sit,” she continued. “I forget my hospitality. I have tea and a poor stew. You’ll pardon my humble abode. I never could abide roofs and loathe flattery and insincerity. Here I can listen to the spirits, far from the floating world.”
Sumika lowered herself to the ground and knelt by the fire. “Holy Mother, who are you?”
“I have told you, child. We are the same spark. Gagaimo seeds adrift on the mountain’s wind.”
“Ah,” I thought. “This is the wandering miko Dōken-shin referred to. Not Sumika’s forebear, but Sumika herself at a different time and place.”
The woman coughed again, wiped her lips, and then poured tea into chipped cups.
#TootFic #Crows #Otherkin #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #Serial #SlowBurn #Yuri #Folklore #NMFic #TimeTravel