The spirit world is broken and in desperate need of a restoration. True heroes and ancient beasts that once walked are now a thing of the past. Between the empty spaces of forgotten treasure halls there are whispers of one who has returned. One lege...
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"Cute." Bodhi gestured to the personified peach pillow resting by Anari's feet. She said nothing, but rather regarded them warily through oversized pupils. Bodhi wondered what shape her spidery essence took behind all that glamour.
The monk shifted their attention to Ritsu and admired the new jewel hanging from his ear.
"Bodhi!" Ritsu waved toward the wall on the other side of the compound. "They've got us separated from the nobles."
The humanae spirit tucked their arms into their sleeves. "I know. I'm going to sneak in and get the pig. You two should wait here."
Anari arched a suspicious eyebrow, but Ritsu caught Bodhi by the shoulder before they could wander off.
"You shouldn't be doing this alone. Those nobles have guards."
Bodhi couldn't help but smile. "You're worried about me, aren't you? That's sweet." They shrugged Ritsu off. "But really, I can handle a few guards."
"Bodhi, wait."
There was a desperation in Ritsu's tone that Bodhi found a little baffling. They paused and looked back with a rather exasperated expression. The sun clone wrung his hands together, his golden brown eyes aimed at the ground.
"Last time I left Ham Song with you . . . . What I'm saying is, the nobles will probably have wine and . . ."
Guilt lanced through Bodhi's chest. They freed their face of all traces of annoyance.
"I'm a messy monk, I know. I can get like that when I go too long without a proper drink." They sighed. "But I've had my medicine and I'm feeling a lot better now. So it's only fair that I clean up the mess I've made."
Without another word, Bodhi turned on their heels and ran for the wall. They stole into a cluster of bamboo and used it as cover as they easily vaulted over the stone barrier. A rush of adrenaline spiked throughout Bodhi's nervous system as they shimmied down a tall stalk of bamboo. They made almost no sound when their toes touched the garden floor.
The aromas were much richer and more savory on this side of the wall. Peach trees were everywhere, creating aesthetic archways over the long stone benches. For now there was no food across the linked table tops. Only kettles of tea and an abundance of accessories. It was enough to make any tea enthusiast salivate.
But then the conversation became more lively and the attendants straightened their spines when cooks clad in white and starchy aprons brought forth several trays, some of which were so long that they needed four spirits to carry at once.
Bodhi studied the procession carefully, noting that the trays held an array of fresh vegetables and marbled meats. Beads of water clung to the platters of deshelled onions, fresh leeks, daikon radishes, and a perplexing abundance of cilantro. There were baskets of eggs. Thousands of them. Drum after drum of steamed rice. And amidst all that was slaughtered, plucked, and uprooted was a bound and upturned pig. Alive and primed for the inevitable barbecue.
