Pt 1 Anzo
(The Story Begins)
Date March 25 Time 20XX Present time 2038
“The water flowing from the thinwhite vase: rhythmically, its contents—the flowers in bloom, the lavenderblossoms, and their sweet scent—all blown away by the wind and a marketvisitor’s tail.”
It was a cat- that was the least thatconcerned me at that moment.
“Those are for sale!” A women barked showing her unaged temperamentdespite the lines on her skin that show her age-Though not aged with grace shecertainly was fuming “how dare you, Goaway! Girl shoo!”
Taking a step back. The bustlingmarket the cities lights, on this night were bright and illuminated the market,and it’s many visitors to and fro.
A Field of Lilies, and the humming of that electricity pole.
Something Pushed onto the girl’sback.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,”
A Woman’s voice could be heard behindthe crate.
“I’m Anzo,” She replied shyly with anervous chuckle to her voice.
The girl gave a blank look at Anzo,as though lost in thought. Anzo broke the silence, saying with a nervouschuckle, “Oh, you can’t speak. That’s why your scarf is covering your mouth.”
“Whatever do you need the help with?”
“You can’t make a sound right?”
Anzo gave a warm smile. which turnedto a little irritation: almost a pout.
“Don’t look at me like that It’s truefor your kind,”
I was just trying to ask a question.
I know it seems childish, but I doreally believe in spirits—spirits who visit important places, give theirrespects, and leave blessings, resonating with the people, though seldom seen.
She tilted her head slightly, herbrow furrowing—not mean, but as if she were looking at me like some odd duck.
The silence lingered just long enoughfor me to wonder what she might actually be thinking. ′ My kind?! Lady- What?′
She took Anzo’s sleeve and walked hertowards the vases of Lillies and other rich plants.
Her eyes widened slightly—just aflicker of something unspoken: awe, excitement, or perhaps a quiet warmthrising like a tide. It felt as if she might melt under the weight of Anzo’sgaze, her playful grin disarming in a way she couldn’t quite name.
Yet no coherent thought formed, onlyan instinct to turn away, her movements quick and shy.
A soft whoosh echoed in her mind—likethe sound of waves brushing the shore, gentle and fleeting—as her arm andfinger stopped in mid-motion.
Without realizing it, she reached forher scarf, her fingers playing with its edge in a nervous habit.
No smile graced her lips, but therewas a hint of one in her softened expression.
Shyness enveloped her, like a quietcocoon, mingled with the unfamiliar warmth of feeling connected—howeverfleeting it might have been.
Anzo gives a hardy chuckle As it giveway to her speech.
“You want one don’t you!“The girl stood stalk still but still her form felt sensitive. ‘I will not turnaround! I will not turn around!’ This time the small girl unraveled her sleeveand pointed even fiercely. Anzo still laughed, leaving some visitors to smileat this some to roll their eyes and some children to smile at their parents andolder Relations.
Anzo Laughter silenced turning intosharp and firm realization Which betrayed her bumbling exteriors just momentsago.
“Anshi ” ‘Which meanslittle gift’
Anzo came down to the small girl.“Who do you have to give that to?”
She almost seemed openly concerned.Anshi or the girl’s face Seemed to turn a slight reddening color as she beganpiling her big scarf over her face.
She took out an old piece ofparchment from her sleeve while being sure To cover her face and once againassume a less seemingly intriguing look to Anzo.
“Anshi,” Anzo murmured, the wordcoming unbidden. The girl flinched, her face flushing beneath her scarf.
“Little gift,” Anzo repeated, hervoice softer now, more tentative. “Who do you have to give that to?”
The girl didn’t answer. Her cheeks turned a deeper crimson as sheducked further into her scarf, fidgetingwith its edges.
Anzo watched her closely, her gazefollowing the girl’s hands sleeve.
It was old—its corners worn and itsink faded to the color of smoke.
But as Anzo reached for it, the airshifted into a cool spring breeze that blew Anzo’s long ponytail to the frontof her shoulder. Anzo felt as if something was behind her, something unknown, alittle afraid, but for some reason, she felt a lingering connection to thepresence, as if it resonated and echoed only to her and for her.
She remembered herself as a child,cradling her mother’s newborn. Her mother’s eyes, green-hazel and distant, likethe edges of a dream, had always seemed just out of reach. She had stared atthem in wonder, so unlike her own-a warm chestnut, earthy and steady, like amount bred for battle.
Once Anzo turned, she saw no one. Butshe saw a lone flower on the ground-a lily. It was as if the whole place didn’tcare to go and greet her or pull her away, as if this place had gone obliviousof her.
This felt special, yet no words cameto her mind. Only one word murmured beside her lips: “Love?”
Anshi, the little girl, smiled atthis, as tears spilled from her eyes. She gave a small bow from her head andclosed her eyes, breathing in the cool breeze. The sound of laughter that earlyevening turned to a bright warm day that shined like a star.
---
**Field of Lilies (Part 2)**
The flowers had been bought. Theirrich pollen in the air, mingling with the undeniably sweet scent of lavender.Among the array of blooms, the lilies stood out—elegant, pristine. The otherflowers and plants only embellished their beauty. It was a bouquet befittingsomeone of care, someone of great reverence. Anshi had chosen the mostexpensive arrangement, and it left me with a strange sense of unease.
Who was this caregiver, and why didshe still bear wounds?
Once in her hands, Anshi brought thebouquet close, as if testing its fragrance for meaning only she could discern.She touched a lily petal with deliberate care, her breath slowing. It felt likemeditation—or prayer. Then, to my quiet astonishment, she pressed her lips tothe petal. It seemed, for a moment, as though she might devour it—but no. Shesimply lingered there, deep in her ritual. Whatever it was, it remained herown.
Moments passed, laden with somethingI couldn’t name. Then came the sound. A cart creaked in the distance, and withit the heavy, breathy rhythm of an animal exhaling, slow and steady. A faintmelody followed, carried by a flute, its notes bending like a mournful howlthrough the thickening dark.
I turned toward the sound, drawn toits haunting presence.
Through the dim light, their figurecame into view—but only just. A man? A boy? The distinction didn’t matter, notthen. What caught my eye instead was the crest they bore. Lilies—etched andembroidered with care. Around their neck hung a horn, suspended by a thin cordof rope, swaying faintly with their steps.
Anshi’s cheeks colored faintly. Sherarely betrayed emotion, but there it was: a blush, subtle yet undeniable. Sheseemed taken, smitten even, though her posture remained composed and reserved.
Anshi took my hand, her fingerssteady but strangely urgent. I felt compelled to follow, as though drawn bysomething beyond my understanding. And so we mounted the cart, guided by anunseen force, and let the darkness carry us forward.
---
The cart groaned under its weight asit veered onto an unfamiliar path. The light from the groom flickered, swayingin tune with the ox’s steady pull. Shadows deepened, stretching farther thanthey should have in the forest’s enclosing darkness.
And then, it happened.
“Moi Shen,” the groom called. Hisvoice was steady, reverent, carrying over the forest floor like a notesustained by invisible strings.
I gasped, the sound escaping mewithout thought. The name rippled through me as though it belonged not just toher but to the air, the trees, even the earth itself. I turned to her,startled—not by the name itself, but by the weight of it. Moi Shen.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t turn towardthe groom. Her face, ghost-like under the shifting light, remained tranquil, asif his words had merely settled over her shoulders like a familiar cloak.
And yet, the air shifted.
I drew in a breath, unsteady. Thiswasn’t a normal ride to a town. It wasn’t sinister—no—but it was something farremoved from the ordinary, something I could never have conjured in myimagination. This was real. And it was hauntingly beautiful.
The ox continued its deliberaterhythm, pulling us further into the unknown. Moi Shen glanced at me briefly,her expression unchanged. She had not transformed in that moment; she was asshe always had been. And yet, now, the name echoed in my mind. Moi Shen. It washer true name. But to me, it hadn’t mattered before, and it didn’t matter now.
She was still Moi Shen. And shehadn’t changed—not in the ways that mattered.
The groom’s voice lingered in the airbetween us. There was a bond there, a familiarity I couldn’t surmise. His tonewas neither demanding nor distant—it was... knowing. Like a thread connectingthem, woven long before I had ever met her.
I watched her for another moment,unable to place the emotion threading through my chest. Reverence, perhaps. Orawe. No, it was both. She was Moi Shen. And though I couldn’t comprehend thefullness of what this journey meant, I knew that we were moving towardsomething far beyond my understanding.
---
The road stretched endlessly into thedark, swallowed by the forest. I couldn’t tell where it led or even where ithad begun. The only light came from the groom, faint and wavering, castinglong, uneven shadows. Moi Shen’s face, pale and ghost-like, flickered in andout of the shadows—but she was real, undeniably real.
The ox pulled the cart with a slow,deliberate rhythm. Around us, the forest stirred—branches groaning, animalssettling into their unseen dens. I could feel their stares, unblinking,watching this strange procession: a lone cart, pulled by an ox, carrying agirl, a boy, and me, the woman they called Anzo.
The cart creaked to a stop, the oxsnorting softly as the reins slackened. Around us, the forest stilled, like aheld breath. The groom’s light remained—faint but steady, its glow painting thetrees in pale, shifting hues. For a moment, nothing moved. No sound but theforest’s deep quiet, no motion but the faint flicker of the groom’s lantern.
Then, something changed.
