"Run, Ye Zi, run!"
"Listen to Mom, Ye Zi. The mandala trees have bloomed, and the Era of Glory is about to begin. That is the Clan Lords' glory, but it is the end of us Ratfolk. We have no right to seize any glory. The only thing we can do is survive. Even if we have to live like real rats, we must survive!"
"Ye Zi, my good little brother, you're the smartest and nimblest child in the village. When storms come, you can climb to the tallest Mandala Tree and pick its fruit, then ride the gale like a real leaf and leap safely to the ground without a scratch—if any Ratfolk can survive the Era of Glory, it will be you. You must carry everyone's hopes and survive!"
"Ye Zi, look! The Mandala Trees have bloomed! Every Mandala Tree in the valley has bloomed! They smell so wonderful, they're so beautiful. I've never smelled anything so marvelous or seen anything so dazzling. Ye Zi, carry me to the top of a Mandala Tree. How about we go swimming in the sea of flowers?"
"Ye Zi... Ye Zi... Ye Zi..."
Along with those repeated calls.
Blurred figures and flickering images emerged in the boy's nearly frozen mind.
First, there was Mother.
Mother was the best cook in the village. Baked Mandala Fruit bread, fried Mandala Fruit strips, stewed Mandala Fruit and minced meat soup, Wild Goat Yogurt fermented for days mixed with chunks of Mandala Fruit... The dishes Mother could make with Mandala Fruit were enough to talk about for three days and three nights.
Ye Zi himself was the best Mandala Fruit picker in the village. Every day, he could gather the freshest and sweetest fruit growing atop the highest sheer cliffs.
And Mother could turn those