The Spirit Wilds: Magic of the Green Sage (Fall of the Sages Book 1)

by Jada Fisher

  Still, she had to admit to herself how astounding it was that a herd of elephant beetles was able to escape her attention. Tuni was just happy that she was alive and not trampled into a pile of broken bones and blood. No, that wouldn’t have felt good at all, and her friends would never forgive her for dying because of her stupidity. Luckily, she’d avoided that.

  Embarrassingly enough, when the beetles had burst through the underbrush, Tuni had been thinking about Armal. Despite herself, she hoped that she would come across him again as she made her way back to her village. When he had fled from her presence, he headed northwest, which was the same direction as home. It was against the fates, but she silently hoped that she would see him again. She always told herself that she could handle the guilt of allowing a poor man like Armal to perish in the wilds, but her damned compassion always seemed to act up.

  It took all day, but she finally made it home. With a smile as wide as the mushroom tops, she emerged from a thick orchard of thorn trees—thankfully, there was a safe path cut through them—and to the small valley carved into the Mushroom Wilds where her little village sat, cozy at the base of the immense stalks.

  Tuni jogged down the small hill to the outskirts of the village where a low stone wall the height of her knees ringed it. It was covered in bells and carved runes—wards against malicious spirits. They didn’t encounter them often, but it was smart to err on the safe side.

  As she ran, her beads and jewelry jingled loudly, signaling her arrival.

  A few of the women of her village worked the meager fields that surrounded the village, picking weeds and watering here and there. It was almost time for harvest, at which point everyone would have to help, Tuni included. She didn’t want to, but her mother would force her, so there was no use arguing.

  One of the women heard the jingling of her beads, stood up straight, weeds in hand, and waved. “Glad to see you haven’t broken any limbs this time out, girl,” she called with a smile.

  “There’s still time left in the day, Mara.” Tuni laughed as she skipped by.

  Tuni slowed to a brisk walk as she strode through her village. After a minute, she stopped in the central square where the cracked sunstone streets coalesced into a nice sunbaked plaza with an old fountain that had long since dried up. Much too fancy for a small village like theirs, but Tuni appreciated that someone tried to spruce the place up.

  She leaned against the edge of the fountain and took a whiff of the air and sighed. It smelled like baked bread from Janni’s bakery, with a thick scent of lavender from Miss Val’s waxwork shop. It was a pretty niche establishment, but travelers often bought her ornate candles, so she stayed in business. It helped that everyone in the wilds loved her.

  “Hey, Tuni!” a voice called.

  Tuni turned to find her friends Sava and Rukshin jogging her way. They wore large smiles.

  “Hi, guys.”

  They came to a stop. Rukshin, the big tubby boy that he was, had to catch his breath. “You disappeared on us again,” he said between breaths.

  Tuni smiled and laid back on the stone. It was cooler now that the setting sun had fallen behind the mushrooms. “I wanted to be alone, have some fun.”

  “Well, we wanted to have fun too, you idiot, but we got stuck with chores,” pouted Sava. She crossed her arms. Her large lips puckered in a pathetically fake pout that was holding back a smile. Her curly hair was untied and free, a poofy halo around her face. Her brown skin glowed in the bits of sunlight that peaked through the mushroom forest.

  Rukshin was round everywhere, a round head with puffy cheeks and a wide nose and thin eyes that made his face seem bigger. His gut was almost perfectly circular, though despite his girth, he was deceptively strong, which was why he went on patrol—he could wield a war hammer better than anyone. He liked to complain about his job, but Tuni knew that deep down, he loved it.

  Tuni told them about Armal, which elicited some laughs as she knew it would. Unlike some people, her friends actually appreciated her antics. Her mom, not so much.

  “Stupid city boys,” laughed Sava.

  “Now, Sav,” said Tuni with a smile. “We’d be just as hopeless if we went to Al-Sevara. Besides, he was nice. Didn’t appreciate my kiss, though.”

  “I would always appreciate your kisses, Tuni,” Ruk said with a flirtatious grin. Tuni rolled her eyes.

  “Of course you would.” Truth be told, they had kissed many times, and done a little more than that. They weren’t romantic or anything, but there were so few eligible options in her village. She had little choice when it came to men. She was just glad that they’d managed to maintain their friendship.

  Tuni pushed off the fountain and brushed her hands together. “I’ll see you two later. I’m sure my mom is wondering where I’ve been.”

  Sava snorted. “Yeah, she’s not gonna be happy.”

  “When is she ever?” Tuni asked, though it wasn’t a joke. Her mom rarely smiled anymore. Always so serious, no nonsense.

  She waved to her friends as she skipped away. Tuni strode through the village and waved and smiled at everyone she passed. She tried to be as endearing as possible to most people, and everyone in her village liked her.

  After accepting a flower from the baker as she went by, she rounded a corner and went down the dirt path to her home. There were a few houses on this lane, all small and made of wood and white plaster, with roofs made of hollowed-out mushroom tops that had been glazed so they didn’t rot. In fact, most of the village looked like a bunch of mini mushroom houses.

  Hers was at the end of the lane, surrounded by a low wooden fence painted yellow and surrounded by white-and-red roses that her sister Telli painstakingly took care of. Telli shared Tuni’s love of flowers.

  Tuni opened the front door—a quaint blue thing that needed repainting along with hinges that needed oiling—and strode into the house. The hearth to her left was ablaze with a cauldron sitting atop it. The scent of boiling vegetables filled her nose. Radishes and potatoes. Again.

  Ugh, I need some variety.

  Her sister sat at the table in the center of the kitchen, a book in hand, her eyes gliding over the words. She’d always been the more studious one. Tuni, on the other hand, was far more hands-on. Why read about something when you could observe it, touch it, taste it?

  That last one wasn’t always a wise choice.

  Telli didn’t look up from her book when she spoke. “How was your day?”

  Tuni poured herself some tea from the kettle. It was lukewarm, but she didn’t really care. “It was fun.”

  “It should have been productive.”

  Tuni sipped her tea and crossed her arms. “I don’t need my little sister to tell me what to do.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Telli said with a snort. Tuni walked by her and playfully punched her arm. They both chuckled.

  “Where’s Mom?” Tuni asked.

  “Out back washing clothes. She’s not going to be happy with you. She blew up on me earlier because you were away.”

  Tuni scratched the back of her head. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean for you to take the brunt of her rage.”

  Her sister shrugged. “It’s okay. She apologized once she cooled off. But still, she’s going to want to kill you.”

  “I just might let her.”

  Tuni left her sister as they both laughed at that. She elbowed open the back door and went into the waning evening light. Tuni found her mother kneeling in the grass in the yard, a wash basin and washing board in front of her and a pile of filthy clothes at her side. Between the house and one of the low trees in their yard hung a clothesline where white sheets fluttered in the breeze, bright and clean.

  Her mom didn’t notice Tuni until she cleared her throat. “Hi, Mom.”

  Her mother stopped washing clothes and looked up to scowl at her. Tuni and her mother, as profoundly different as they were in personalities, were strikingly similar in looks—not surprising since they were mother and daughter. Tuni did
n’t take after her late father in the slightest.

  She and her mom had the same large green eyes, and button noses, though Tuni’s was slightly crooked from when she broke it as a kid and never set it right. They had heart-shaped lips, but her mom’s were more often in a frown than a smile. They had the same golden complexion and dimples around their mouths, though her mother had more wrinkles and defined laugh lines. Tuni couldn’t recall too many times when her mom had used those laugh lines, though.

  Really, the only physical difference between them was that Tuni had more rounded cheeks and a small chin whereas her mother was more angular and long. Aside from that, they were near identical.

  “I wanted you back hours ago, girl,” her mom said sharply. Tuni hated when she couldn’t even bring herself to say her daughter’s name.

  “I tried, Mom,” Tuni, replied, a partial lie. “I made a friend and lost track of time. I raced back here but got sidetracked by a stampede of elephant beetles.” That, at least, was the truth.

  Her mother snorted and went back to washing. “By ‘friend,’ I assume you mean some random traveler from the city that you no doubt harassed?”

  Tuni crossed her arms. “I didn’t ‘harass’ him. Though it’s not my fault that these city types can’t hang with me. They don’t know how to have fun.”

  “Tuni!” her mother suddenly barked, losing her patience as she dropped the soap and wet shirt into the washbasin. “I’ve told you to leave them alone and to stop wasting your days in the wilds. They aren’t safe for you or anyone. And Al-Sevarans are even more dangerous. They don’t care about us. They just take and take, and push and push, and I don’t want you associating with them.”

  “Ugh, you’re no fun,” Tuni said with a groan as she threw her hands up.

  “I’m not supposed to be fun! I’m your mother, I’m trying to keep you safe and do what’s best for you.”

  “You always say that, but did you know what was best for dad? No, so you don’t know what’s best for me or Telli.”

  Tuni knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as she said it. What happened to her father was not her mom’s fault. It had changed her, when he died, changed them all, but Tuni had been young, so she grew to be who she was—carefree and happy. Her mother, though, had closed in on herself. Their mother still loved them, but the joy that had been there as a child wasn’t there anymore.

  She put up her hands. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean that.”

  Her mother said nothing. She was deathly still, which really made Tuni’s skin crawl. Tuni waited for her to blow up at her, to yell and rage and maybe even slap her, but she didn’t. She just stood calmly and went inside without a single word.

  Yeah, that wasn’t good at all.

  Tuni cursed and hit herself in the head with her fists. Stupid! Why did I say that?

  She followed her mother inside in time to see her go over to the cauldron, pick it up by the handles, and carry it out the front door. Telli stood from the table and beside Tuni, looking as incredulous as Tuni felt.

  “Mom, what are you—”

  And before they could do anything about it, their mother dumped the contents of the cauldron—their dinner—onto the grass in front of the house and tossed the cauldron aside. Then she calmly walked back into the house, fished a bottle of old wine from the cupboard, and went to her room. She didn’t even slam the door, just closed it gently and locked it. Terrifying. Tuni would have rather had her yell. She knew how to deal with pure rage.

  Telli looked at her mother’s door for a long while before turning to her sister. “What the heck did you say to her?”

  Tuni pulled out a chair, slumped into it, and put her forehead to the table. “I said something bad.”

  “How bad?”

  Tuni repeated what she said. Telli gasped, which Tuni found dramatic, but as a very dramatic person, Tuni couldn’t rightfully judge. “Tuni…”

  She groaned. “I know.”

  Telli sat beside her and tapped her fingers against the table. “You better let her cool off tonight. She might say something we’ll all regret if you go in there now.”

  “Yeah.”

  Her sister stood and went to the cupboards. “I’ll see if I can salvage us some dinner.”

  “Thank you.”

  And so, they stayed silent for the rest of the night, the only sound being her sister’s cooking and their eating once she was done. They cleaned their dishes when they were through and called it a night. Neither was in the mood for talking much. Tuni hated herself for what she’d said.

  She climbed into her bedroom nook beneath the mushroom roof. She shared the sparse space with her sister, though Telli decided to stay down and read a little while longer. That was fine with Tuni, since she wanted to be alone.

  Soon, her guilty thoughts turned to drowsiness, which turned to sleep, and a dreamless night embraced her.

  4

  Tuni

  A night of sleep hadn’t done much to improve Tuni’s mood. In fact, it worsened it.

  She rolled out of bed in a twist of guilt and anger. Guilt for what she’d said to her mother, and anger that her mom made her feel like that. She wished nothing had changed, that they could be like a mother and daughter should be, but Tuni wasn’t going to compromise who she was to please her mother.

  She shouldn’t have said what she said, there was no getting past that. Either way, her mother should have loved and accepted her for the person she was, instead of always trying to conform Tuni into the person she wanted her daughter to be. It was infuriating. Tuni didn’t like being put in a box like that. She wanted to be whoever the hell she wanted to be.

  It was past dawn, and she could hear her mother cooking something below. They still hadn’t spoken a word to each other since the previous night, and Tuni was in no mood to speak then, so she rolled out of her bed as quietly as she could. She pulled on some shorts, and a short-cropped sleeveless shirt that exposed her stomach. Those in Al-Sevara would find her outfit scandalous, risqué, but it was hot in the wilds.

  Telli still slept in her bedroll beside her. Luckily, she was a heavy sleeper.

  Once dressed, Tuni scooped up her bow, quiver, and backpack, and climbed down the ladder from their nook. The ladder creaked, but the sound of cooking was so loud that her mother didn’t notice.

  Mom’s back was to her. Once on the floor, Tuni picked up her boots and snuck over to the back door, since it didn’t squeak when opened. As quietly as she could, she eased it open and squeezed herself through, then closed it behind her without so much as an audible click. Then she put on her boots and took off.

  Not wanting to see her friends or deal with the niceties of her fellow villagers, she hopped the little fence around her house and went to the northeastern edge of the town’s spirit barrier and hopped it too, then skirted the town and made her way south into the wilds.

  Her mother would be beyond furious with her for leaving again, but Tuni couldn’t stick around. She wasn’t ready for the conversation that they needed to have. She was still angry, and so was her mother, and they both said stupid things when they were angry. No need to make things worse. Once she cooled off, Tuni would come back and apologize.

  But that would be later. For now, she had exploring to do.

  Tuni hiked south for several hours, off any beaten trails or the “official” roads that the Al-Sevarans so desperately tried to maintain to bring some sense of order to the wilds. But they were called the wilds for a reason. They couldn’t be tamed and attempting otherwise was stupid. The Al-Sevarans were a deeply stupid and stubborn people.

  This time around, she didn’t see anything too dangerous, though she saw a manlistore in the distance, which was a hulking, shadowy spirit monster with a white porcelain mask for a face. They fed off fear and needed to be avoided at all costs. This one didn’t notice her, thankfully.

  After a while, she jumped over a stream and came to a flowery clearing with a few felled trees. She sat o
n one and stretched her legs out, her eyes to the sun that had found a hole in the mushroom canopy to shine through. It was a perfect day; one she would enjoy thoroughly until she had to return home and ruin it with a confrontation with her mother.

  On that front, she decided to pick a bunch of the yellow and white flowers growing around her. Carnations, she recognized, and something that looked like lavender, but she realized wasn’t quite it.

  As she was picking, she had to stop and admire a flower that she’d never seen before.

  It was breathtaking. Bright petals that seemed almost iridescent in the light, flitting between hues of blue and purple. The center of it was a deep golden orange. She’d never seen anything quite like it. With a smile, she pulled out her sketchbook and drew it. People thought she just liked to come into the wilds and goof off—which she did—but her real passion was plants.

  She loved them. Loved drawing them and studying them. She experimented with petals and nectars in drinks. They didn’t have a professional apothecary anymore since Miss Caldwin died a few years back and she hadn’t left an apprentice to take up the practice, so Tuni had no one to learn from, but still, her passion was hers and she would stoke that fire whenever possible.

  She sketched and studied animals too, of course, but she obviously couldn’t do experiments on them, no matter how curious she might be. Nature was perfectly balanced, beautiful, and she would never disrespect that. Everything out here was precious, a gift that needed to be cherished.

  Of course, meat was still on the menu, but she always sent a prayer to the nature gods when she shot something. It was only right.

  Once she was finished with her sketch and wished that she had some colored pastels so she could really capture the essence of it. Instead, she packed her journal back into her pack, picked a few more flowers, gripped her bow, and continued on her way.