Freya asked Mel to tell a story, so she did. She told them that there's someone made from ink and magic in the world who provides for everyone. It's someone who gives hope and life, and they sang the world from inky blackness. In those older days this person often took the form of spirits and interacted with others before the truth of it became lost to myth. Now the magic has merged again, and the hope of life is here.
"Now close your eyes and imagine," said Mel, and a moment later she began to sing. At first it was just notes, then slowly words from some enchanting ancient language came. In her mind's eye, Raine saw nothing then light, sea and land, creatures and people, and wispy forms of spirits across the lands. Then the song quickened and slowed and one part repeated, and the vision drew towards the group to show them singing as they walked. Bright sparks of a powerful potential danced around them. The song ended, and Raine opened her eyes, watching Mel, who blinked in a very cat-like way. Her eyes seemed to say 'I've guarded you since the very beginning of time', and after a moment more, Raine looked away.
They walked across the land, further toward the fire plains with each day. They sang when they had nothing to talk about, and Mel occasionally taught them a song from Jes' world. Every now and then the eight danced around the bright campfire, smiles wide, feeling light. Joy set their hearts ablaze, and the travelling gave routine and rhythm. Mel often ran just a little bit ahead in leopardess form. Memories from each day followed them into the night and even in their dreams they heard pounding footfalls, joy-filed words, laughter like ringing bells, and panting for breath.
Blaze, Matthew, and Mel hunted. Raine went with Sunny to fill their water-skins, and Rose, Salma, and Freya forages. They watched the sunsets and stars appear in the darkening skies, they braided hair, danced, sang, made things, talked, slept, dreamt, woke, ran, walked, laughed. The mountains quickly vanished from sight and every day looked the same. But Raine preferred all that, she'd grown used to travelling day after day. And as the moon waned and grew and time went on, the seven got to know Mel better.
Mel usually got up earlier than the others, and there had been several occasions when Raine had seen her blankly staring into the distance either humming beneath her breath or murmuring inaudible words. It was best not to distract her when she was doing that, they'd found, or she got frustrated. Sometimes Raine noticed she was humming the same tunes Mel did. They played their constellation game, and sometimes made up stories to tell each other. Mel spent a few days at a time in one form or the other, forgetting to switch. When she was in leopardess form, she helped hunt -- and ate some food for her leopardess stomach -- and she would sleep through lunch. She often curled protectively around one or two of her friends as she slept, remarkably like a house cat.
They celebrated Salma's fifteenth birthday, the first of their number to have a second birthday on the journey. The journey seemed half travelling and half wintering in the Dwarvern Caverns, but there they'd made friends and grown closer to each other. Raine tried to remember what life had been like in the village, or even further back to before her family had died... no, she wouldn't think of that. Then she realised what her heart sought: to travel and travel forever with her friends who had become more like family. She hummed the melody she'd heard in that glowing cave with the lake and spirit. But after the Fire Plains -- she hated that name -- they'd go back to the village, and she wouldn't be able to keep travelling and having adventures.
The wildflowers had grown and spread through the meadows and grasslands the eight travelled across. Winds that had long ago lost their icy touch flattened the green grass, and the sun yellowed it. Raine asked when they'd return to the village.
"Before Autrin's Ehv," Mel replied, smiling her strange smile. A butterfly danced in the air, and Raine held up her finger for it to land on.
"To me, butterflies symbolises hope and freedom," Mel said.
"Well of course Rain means hope to me, because without it there's no life." Raine let the butterfly fly away. The next morning, just for fun, they drew a butterfly on their faces with charcoal from the fire. The moon was nearly full, and the skies were clear, and the days were fair.
Clouds gathered and darkened, and thunder rumbled faintly. The eight worked quickly to build a shelter for themselves, and when the storm hit they were safely hidden beneath a roof of sticks and leaves. They sang the rain song and told stories. Mel told a story from Jes' world.
"There once was a woman whose family moved country when the crops failed. The father died, leaving two sons who married and died, leaving three widows. The eldest, the mother-in-law, had no reason to stay in that land and she decided to return to her homeland. She told her daughter-in-laws to stay behind, but one refused. She was loyal to the mother-in-law, and said 'where you go I'll go. Your people will be my people, and your god will be my god.' So the pair went back to the mother-in-law's homeland together."
It rained all afternoon, and eased off by nightfall. Mel, Matthew, and Blaze hunted, and they cooked stew. In the morning the ground was wet from the rain but it dried as the sun rose higher. The sun was bright and warm, some days a little too warm, and the nights were beautiful. One night, Raine sat up half the night thinking about the Fire Plains. The sunset had been a warm, dusty orange, casting the world into silhouette. She remembered her parents, her two brothers, and her baby sister. Her brothers had always annoyed her, but nevertheless she loved them as sibling must. Her sister had been so little, and sometimes Raine felt responsible for not having been there to save her, but as soon as she thought of any of it she pushed down the memories again. But sooner or later she'd have to face her fears. Her father had been strong and caring, and very hard-working. He'd always been out in the fields or off to a city to sell goods with two other farmer-tradesmen. Her mother, well, she was similar to Nimue. Both often made Raine feel better when she was down, and taught her, and kept her company. And then -- Raine shuddered -- the volcano had become active again.
"Raine, you need to sleep," Mel said.
"I'm scared about the Fire Plains, and I was thinking about my family," replied Raine. "Weren't you asleep?"
"No..." Mel hummed the tune from the glowing cave as Raine pulled her blanked over herself and lay down. She watched the stars twinkling overhead, and when she fell asleep Mel did too.
The Spirit-Pool Village was near but they didn't stop by. The moon was full now, and when it set the next morning as the sun sat just beneath the horizon their world cast a shadow on half of it. The moon turned slightly red and shone brighter than it usually did. The sky turned pink, orange, and purple in the west, and was equally beautiful in the west. Still eclipsed, the moon set as the sun rose, casting its golden light over the land, and the eight continued on.
Raine began to embroider the hem of her favourite, rather worn out, dress, the one she'd torn a strip off. She stitched collective memories on it into a tiny story There was Nimue, the endless grass, the heather-blanketed hills, a pile of books they'd read in the Buchod Room, the Ice Clan's music box, their camp in the forest before meeting Mel, and the partial lunar eclipse. By the time she'd completed that, it was nearly the end of the second moon, and the Fire Plains demanded to be face overmorrow.