AyaShLi's robes were thin , and clean , stained the pale cobalt colour of ashes with many wiped hands and washes in the river . They draped lightly around er , feeling light as air , and soft as kisses . With er grudge-blade , a bastard sword carved by rust and ruin , at er side , e reclined in the dimness of a glade .

Sometimes , e let hours pass , sitting in the dim shade beneath the sun , the breeze kicking up dunes and whorls in er clothing , lain taut by er body weight and loose as ashes , from whom we get the word Ashes . It was a nice day , and on the sunlit side of the valley , still warm .

Time had a way of passing , at times , like une infinite moment , without experience , the presence of the body all that there is . Beyond words , beyond individual senses , existing singly as une unified consciousness , for a period of time that could take hours , it could take days .

There were of course chores to do . Stills to maintain . Grow-ops to refresh . Clothes that could be washed . And yet it seemed to er that there were times that it were more important just to witness what e was , to see eirself as compleat , to choose to lay down for another minute , another hour , because what could be done that was more perfect than this ? .

E already had, already was what e wanted to be . There was no need to create all new erratic paths into the universe . Sticking to what was tried and what was true , what e could build with er hands , what e could put in er pockets .

AyaShLi stood . Took a deep breath of fresh air , warm and wet on this side of the valley . Stretched er limbs . Looked down once more , and laid down again .

There would be times for business .

There was always time for more work .

Looking down at eirself , seeing eirself compleat . Fixing er sitting-blanket that keeps the grass stains off of er robes . E has a sip of tea , pops some berries in er mouth , wipes off er hands fastidiously ,

and then lays down once more .

The sun was warm , and so was e .

Everywhere , the little wind moved around whatever it could .

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It was the end of another semi-monthly circuit , a round trip around the valley taking around a fortnite , quatorze(14) jours , vingt-une(21) if e took er time to enjoy the scenery . Spanning the rainforests to the south to the pine woods of the north , the hot wetlands of the south-west picking up tropical storms across the salt flats , turning across rocky steppes into the highlands with their sheer cliffs and sparse scrub grass . There were mainlands to the north-west , and a bridge leading to the next continent in the south-east , tho e never really had any need or desire to go there . To Speak Boldly Everything from the Valleys to the Mountains belonged to the Living God , Alive Until Dead .

A circuit began in the south , in the wetlands , with tomatoes that could be sun-dried and grapes that made good raisins . Cannabis was plentiful on the southern peninsula , glittering cauliform florets growing on tall stalks with signature sept(7)-fingered leaves . Cannabis was sacrament , a Gift from the Goddess , er mother had always taught er . A blessing , something sacred , to make the sign of the Cross before partaking .

E and er siblings each had different tastes in meat , each of them did their own hunting . AyaShLi's grudge-blade was perfect for cleaving boars in half , snapping their spines and pinning them to the ground before they could fly off into a rage . Er mother had taught er to avoid them . E had spent years watching them , learning to sneak up on small game like elk and rams , making a silly mess of eirself trying to fight them . When each of them came of age , their mother bequeathed to them certain artifacts according to their personalities , dancer's silks for er brother , magical books for er sister , a bastard sword for AyaShLi . It revolutionized er life , made hunting a hundred times easier . Er sister NekSed was a mermaid , preferred to spend as much time in the water as possible , hunting for fish and kola nut with a pike on the sandy beaches , gutting fishes in under a minute and baking them on a thin metal grate that weighed little in her pack . NekDih had muscles like steel cables and carried a cast-iron skillet , hunted for wolf meat in the pine forests of the north with an antique rifle their mother had given him , said that if we are what we eat , then we should eat what eats the other stuff . The lesser mammals , in the haughty way he spoke . Each of them had different fathers , each of them as much reflections of their parentage as individuals estranged from the weft . Sometimes er mother would joke , tell er that er father was a tree , that xe had joined a faerie dance one day , gotten drunk , and fornicated with a tree . E liked that thought .

Bottles clanked heavily in er framed rucksack , each of them empty at onset and filled with different kinds of fluid . A still for rum made from sugar cane in the south , a still for gin made from pine needles in the north . Bottles of artisanal vinegar , mineral water from salty caves where the birds susurrated in great flocks that echoed off the refractory walls , filling glass with pickling spices like peppers and peppercorns and then oil from olives and cashews the following week . Every trip was different , a little more of this , a little less of that . Often enough e would come across stills or grow-ops and find them raided , shucked to the stalk or broken with clubs . Each trip packed tubes , screws , nails , all the things e would need to repair broken equipment or rebuild it from the ground up .

E had lots of stations planted all over the place . AyaShLi liked building , liked anything e could do with er hands . Could count on er fingers to dix(10) , to soixante(60) , or to une-cent-quarante-quatre(144) , depending on the value of the trade good . If it was worth more than that , it was worth wearing on a bracelet or a locket . Around er neck were a dozen-and-a-half necklaces made of homemade hemp twine and wrapped wire .

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The sound of shuffling, ruffling, snorting, rooting . Shuck-a shuck-a . Shuffle . Snort , root . AyaShLi opened er eyes .

A boar .

Shuffle , root .

With its nose in er pack .

Er sword was already in er hand . E slept with it , held it at night like children sleep with teddy bears .

Shuffle , shuffle . Ruffle , ruffle . Clink , clank . The alcohol...! .

Slowly , carefully , AyaShLi dragged erself to a sitting position . Just gotta get standing for a good swing...

REEEEEEEEE! .

Oh fuck oh fuc--

E took the first blow to the ribs . Pain shot thru er , swore e heard a crack . Went into the air , but the sword was tied to er wrist . Eyes going wide , having done this before , e gripped the rope before the momentum tore er shoulder out of its socket . Landed on the ground with a Whump . Fuck fuck fuck , gotta get st--

There wasn't enough time to get standing . The boar came at er like a steam train blowing its whistle , a cloud of dust behind it , screaming like a stove pipe . Rolling out of the way , dodging an attack that could prove deadly . Er eyes locked on the tusks , bright and white in the morning light , twin daggers affixed to its face being swung around by hundreds of pounds of thrashing muscle . Maybe if e could just--

Boars are not linear creatures . They do not stand still for photographs . What looked like a charge twisted into a thrashing , and e once again dodged a bite that could snap bone . Its eyes wide and wild and unpredictable , bits of foam flicking from the corners of its mouth .

WHUMP . Eyes locked on the tusks , e takes a butt slam to the leg in the middle of standing , sand kicking in a plume as e barely withdraws it before it snaps . Wait , it's going for the bottles , not the...!

"HEY!" e screamed , almost never uttering a word . The sharp sound distracts the beast and it turns on a dime , inches from crushing a month's worth of work under careless hooves . "Ffswiit!" e whistles with two fingers , one hand on er belt , the whistling wrist bracing against the crossguard of er grudge-blade for balance . In a second , it's already upon er , not enough time , not enough time...! . Calves coiled and releasing like springs , the blade unsheathes its tip from the dirt , sending er into a spin , kicking clods into the air , a flash of steel , a wall of meat , the fishing-rod tug of finding purchase , gripping , hard , the sound of tearing leather . It takes two(2)deux entire seconds for the bastard sword to hit the ground with a flat thump . Wet hot splashes on er in an arc and the first thought e has are er clothes , er white robes . Still naked . Glancing , glancing , found th-- TUSK

Barely dodging an eviscerating strike , and now awake and wide-eyed , e grips the rope and pulls , hurling it into the air and using the weight to counterbalance erself like a tango dancer and on er feet . Eyes darting , calculating , DODGE! , gripping the pommel , BLOCK! , getting knocked off er feet and landing on er butt , reflexively making a noise that couldn't be approximated in speech letters . Another charge , hold it tight , twist and roll , er arm flashes out . Finds purchase , nearly takes a leg off . Hot blood splatters on the leather wrappings e keeps er day-robes in . That's why e keeps them wrapped in leather at night . Ash is a very difficult colour to keep clean .

OOF . Distracted . Takes a rump to the side . Nearly falls over , grips the pommel , shicks it into the dirt . Dancing around it , stays on er feet . Already the beast is at er side again , hooves kicking , hitting the tip-buried sword and glancing off , hard--chitinous crust not used to kicking things that are harder than it . E swings with er off-hand again , carving a gash from neck to tail . Already it begins to show signs of exhaustion , pint after pint of blood spilling on the thirsty ground . There's potholes left from where the sword kicked the dirt up , maybe e can--

Success . One leg hanging from sinews , another drives into a pothole . The beast wrenches , the sound of ankle snapping , now...! . E swings er bastard sword in a high arc . It drives into the dirt and clean thru the boar , its spine snapping in half , bisected across the stomache . It screams , wrenching its ankle , rearing up for another strike and falling flat , its hind legs kicking, kicking . The screams weren't anything that could be called holy . Reeing and screaming , pain and fury , one life in a world of lives screaming its anguish into the wood of the trees and the marrow of er bones . Kicking, dragging , the beast's front half continues its charge , its organs spilling out behind it , intestines, liver, kidneys, spleen . Its eyes wide with the shock of finality , its rump end kicking once more and twitching to a stop , the beast screamed from laboured lungs held in place by their own pleural lining , blood draining , scream dying in its throat , animal intelligence flaring in its eyes .

Its protests ceasing , its strength draining , carefully , AyaShLi stepped towards the beast , aware for the first time in awhile of er own nakedness , er body clothed in the beast's cooling blood . It breathes , hoarsely , snorts , looking , staring up at er . E watches it die , watches it like the sacraments of white sage and cedar that e burns . When it finished , e began slicing fillets off of it with er sickle . Boar meat was a good, strong meat high in protein , with fat that could be distilled into lantern oil for Mother .

The light was barely beginning to stream red and orange and hidden infrared thru the cracks in the trees . E knew the infrared was there , even though e couldn't see it .

/Something/ had to be connecting the flame and the kindling when e held er hand beneath it .

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By the time e arrived back in town , AyaShLi's pack weighed trois(3)-stone , and e shouldered it like a champ . Bottles clinking and jangling , palm crosses susurrusing , hemp-twine necklaces made of beach glass and rainforest amethyst clicking and clacking , the low clock-a-lock of bone flutes , the shuffle of smoked boar meat wrapped in banana leaves . E took the most direct route e knew of to get to the market , and tho it was already the dixieme(10th) hour , set up er travel blanket on the cobblestone and unpacked er treasures .

As a local artist of modest acclaim , it didn't take long for AyaShLi to make a modest wage . Hemp was easy to make , crystals were abundant , and the wrapping gave er something to do while e camped at night . Necklaces were always a popular seller , especially at only a few credits a piece . A bottle of whiskey and a bottle of gin paid for er hotel for the night , and a flute and some knucklebone dice paid for dinner . E was a flower , and the people were the hummingbirds , coming and flying up , sampling this and that . By the time the red-gold sun began to set and the evening crowd thinned as it cooled , e had carved a pipi bird from a piece of fragrant knotwood , and had plenty enough to make it til market the next day .

Estimating at least a few days of easy living , e partook of one of er own bottles of wild rice sake that e kept in a special white and blue ceramic canteen e had found at the market one day . Steeped in cherry blossom petals pressed and dried in the spring , it had a floral pleasantness that coupled well with the tart rice wine . AyaShLi giggled every time e stumbled , enjoying how it made the ground move up and down like that . Partook of er pipe every cent(100) mythic yards or so , got blazed in the park .

Hm? . Something made er ears perk up . Sound ? . E looked around . Student actors giving a play on the small public ampitheatre . Groups of trois(3) et quatre(4) et cinq(5) sitting together , sharing bottles of wine and pipes of cannabis . Somewhere... There! . Standing slowly with a guttural groan like an aging samurai , e nearly fell over , giggled , grabbed the sling of er pack and swung it widely over er shoulder , er grudge-blade safely stowed in a large scabbard on er back , stumbled , hopped on une(1) foot , regained er balance . Gravity could be so demanding , really . Still , the market was a safe place . E liked it here .

Following the sound like a honeybee to pollen , AyaShLi wound er way to the far corner of the park , where the singer was waiting , strumming , singing , entourage drumming and tambourining , raising a holy riot . Er sister NekSed had taught er about the mechanics of sound , how it makes bone vibrate , bounces off of things , why high shouts can be heard in straight lines while drumming can be heard from all around . The singer's voice reflected off of a local synegogue and into the park with its trees and houses all around . A much larger ampitheatre .

A small crowd had already gathered , and several people were already dancing . This was good , as it made AyaShLi nervous to start things in front of other people , e never knew how they were going to react . Unloosing er pack from er shoulders , e swung it in a heavy arch so that the clanking bottles remained unharmed , and allowed erself to sway into the music .

The singer sang of the peace and love of God , the rapture of life and love , and safety in times of trials and storms . AyaShLi began with a modest kick-step from side to side , left , centre , right , centre . The sake was warm inside of er , made er cheeks blush and the world sway from side to side . The swing in er step spread to er hips , and soon , er shoulders followed . Eyes half-lidding , half-vigilant , e let er body get all the way into it side to side , becoming unified with the music and accepting the Wisdom Speech of God .

Changing up pattern , forward , centre , back , centre .
Back-right , forward-left , back-right , forward-left .
Back-left , forward-right , back-left , forward-right .

As e increasingly got into it er movements became wider , more sweeping , er ash-grey robe shushing , calice-hard feet easily tolerating the stone street .

Figure-huit(8) clockwise , figure-huit(8) counter-clockwise , er style was geometric , basic , simple .
Hips bouncing , left, left , right, right , left, left .
Shoulders in crosses , left-forward, left-backward , right-backward, right-forward .
Raising er hands , e balled er fists and held er forearms vertical , elbows tucked in tight .
Left, left . Right, right .

AyaShLi felt cute when e was dancing , and e liked feeling cute .

With each strum of the guitar , AyaShLi's hips followed .
Left, left-right . Right, right-left .
Left, left-right , with a warrior's grace ,
t w i r l ,
e spun , once , arms stretched to the sides ,
ashen skirt flowing in the wind ,
Catch on er right , bend a knee , thrust a lunge ,
Left, left-right . Right , right-left .

The crowd started to become populous , and plenty of people were dancing , all of them as candleflames in the same candleabra . The singer became more empassioned , singing about The Lord and The Saint , "i'll wait... ...for the guidance above" . There were times when people would say the same things -- "know you feel the same way" -- as e was thinking about . "And around the world!" . It made er wonder if they were doing it intentionally , or if something else were causing it . Er sister knew a lot of stuff about books , but AyaShLi could see the hidden connections between all things . "...and the Wonder of the Natural World" . Shaken and stirred , e shook er head once to clear it , reflexively catching erself when the alcohol made the world go one way and er heart go another .

As the singer became fierier , AyaShLi danced harder .
Stomp, hips, step . Stomp, hips, step .
Upright in the way of The Lord , sturdy as The Saint .
Spin like a ballerina , leg tucked in a triangle at the knee .
Check backpack -- yep , still there ,
Lunge , with a hip . Sweep with er skirt .
Lunge with a hip . Sweep , with er skirt .
Dancing was about patterns . Pal-- palen-- palendromes .
E thought .
Oh well . Swinging to the music .
Getting into the drum vibe .
Stomp, hips, step . Stomp, hips, step .
Eyes lidded . Check -- still there .
Beginning to curl , like a burning twig ,
er arms going up , like licks of fire .
Right hip hind . Left hip hind .
Right hip hind . Left hip hind .
Er arms going up , spine curves ,
like a cat unfurls
, er true body is the flame .
er soul just came ,
the fire spits and sparks fly away .

The energy channeled ,
er Shakti pure ,
The heat from er body ,
the heat from the flame ,
went up ,
"--, can i hear a Haleluiiaa?"

The ground was hallowed ,
the drumming , the tambourines ,
the feet clock-a-lockin
with a sound like bone flute .

Without thinking about it , AyaShLi opened er bag and pulled out a bone flute and began playing . The sound was sharp and hollow , a saddening sound , and beauty and melancholy all toward . People made space for er , and e played , in tune to the music , the drummer , the dancer . Shrill peaks and breathtaking storms piped from the bone , marrow still fresh from the other day's kill . The Great Spirit commanded er , possessed er , emboldened er , the Holy Spirit moved thru er . Er thighs swung on their own to the music , big slides with er hips , minus the shimmy that brother NekDih shicks . Shoulders swinging back and forth , head weaving in figure-huit(8) , eyes closed -- wait , check er clothes -- still there , good -- in tune to the music , and one with the flame . AyaShLi yipped like a fox , "hoW!" , and chucked the flute over the crowd and into the park .

Emboldened by the confluence of Heavens , AyaShLi danced
like the fire licks , a bend ,
and a twist .
Turn here ,
now there .
Bend flick , fingertips , sending sparks .
Curve twist , back cricks , lumbar by lumbar by lumbar .
Time slowed , or ceased to exist .
Er form was the fire , er spirit the flame .
Fire comes from fire , and life is the same .
"...in the name of The Lord and the way of The Saint" .

AyaShLi felt exhausted . Sweat pouring down er face , e gripped the pack strap and heaved it away . Swinging up and around , and landing on er back , slip quick an arm-- wait , where's the strap , where , there -- slip an arm into the other , uuup! . Lift with er knees and e's on er way .

Like a branch of White Sage ,
burned down to its core ,
AyaShLi scattered erself
like ash .

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"Ayashli! Ayashli!" , the boys from the Orphanage called .

"Ayashli! Can I borrow some coins?"

"Ayashli! Ayashli! Do you have any toys?"

"Ayashli! Is there anything for me in there?"

"Ayashli! Ayashli! Can you heal my burns?"

"Ayashli! Do you have any weapons?"

"Ayashli! Ayashli! Give me some!"

"Ayashli! Can I have some too?"

"Ayashli! Ayashli! Put this costume on!"

"Ayashli! Can I have some of your hair?"

And e gave , and e gave , and e gave , because there wasn't any reason not to . Even when it meant er own sweat and blood , e gave . Sheaf after sheaf after sheaf of cannabis , e gave . Hard-earned treasures not won long enough to even be treasured , e gave . Ha ha ha , look at the costume . It didn't hurt , and God provided more than enough for easy living .

So e gave .

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Sometimes it angered AyaShLi to see the way Cannabis was mistreated . Could they not see that the plant was sacred , that it was conscious ? . Sie was a sacrament , something to be thought of and considered , tasted and loved . And it took time to find these herbs , to only take so much , to make sure they were watered and kept healthy . Most people confused er . So few of them were so obviously expressive as Mother , and the worst , relying on nuance and mystery . Yet there were times when e would be in group settings , where people rolled and packed carelessly , and spoke at length while holding it like a talking stick , torched it , sucked it back , as if propelled by some uniform malice . These people silently infuriated er , made er feel things e didn't understand , and more than once it was all too much , and e had to return home to where it was safe . It might only be a shack at the edge of town , but the lighting was good , and e was good at wintering .

The air was thick with burned cedar and tobacco , white sage and lemongrass , patchouli , mugwort , mullein . In the living room were tiny shacks made of wood , filled with kindling and tinder , copper powder and black pepper . The powder was made by filing down nuggets found in the woods , sometimes entire veins , with flints of granite . If you cart enough wood to a hill that has ore in it , and light it on fire all at once , the rocks will crack , and you can harvest the metal inside . NekSed knew why , had told er once . Something about the heat making the rocks grow and then shrink as they cooled . And something about molecular levels , too . E had shelves of plants in jars , some of them decades old and found in the muck near riverbeds and houses worn down to the foundations by rain . Sometimes e came home and found them smashed , careless robbers bursting them like playthings , scattering their neatly ordered contents everywhere . But most of the time this was er Do , er safe place , where nothing ever happened .

Once in awhile , Mother would come to visit , although more often e went to visit xer . When xe did , they would go out into the feilds together catching grasshoppers , packing lunches and bringing homemade nets , and more often than not , crawling thru the grass and diving on any hopper unfortunate enough to not be looking . And then they would cup their hands and show each other , feel the flutter of their wings and the tickle of their legs , pass them back and forth , before letting them go . And then they would crawl thru the grass again , hunting for another tiny hopper to pounce on and release . Lunches were bountiful affairs . AyaShLi professionally made smoked meats and spiced oils and spirit alcohols , and SenDih was a cinq(5)-star chef . They would have sandwiches and charcuterie boards , treat themselves with candied peaches and sweet pickles , and wash it down with rice sake and corn whiskey . Then they would clean all the dishes in the river , and pack everything back up , and go out into the fields again .

Following a river was one of er favourite passtimes . E knew all the rivers near er home , knew them all by name and personality . Some rivers were crooked and muddy . Some rivers were wide and clear . Some rivers were rocky and rapid . Many of them had two(2)deux names , a Map Name and a Spirit Name . All of them spoke , if you came and sat down next to them and listened , in voices made of trickling water and chirping birdsong and their atmospheric trenches sussurussing the wind thru their leaves . The great thing about rivers were that they always led somewhere , and in this populated world , oftentimes to settlements at both the mountains or the sea . And even in the wilds , if a river came to an uninhabited lake , e could bathe in peace , finally in peace and solitude in a world all er own , and it was easy to find er way back without getting lost . The sea , on the other hand , was an excellent source of beach glass , which made for good necklaces which sold well . Outside er home were piles of smooth stones taken from every river in er world , painted with smiley faces and cute cats and inspirational messages .

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