The Girl and the Wolf

The Fourth Continent, Rising Wind Season, autumn · Tilang Festival

The Chinese character "缇" means reddish yellow or orange-red, and also refers to armed personnel, as in mounted guards. The five officials of the present day wear reddish-yellow robes, a remnant of ancient military dress.—<Commentary on the Spring Official's Chapter on Ceremonial Dress>

In the ninth year of Rising Wind Season, this continent had passed the brightest days of the Blazing Sun. The vitality of the Blazing Sun carried on the wind nourished all living things. Over the past few years, the animals in the mountains and forests had multiplied in great numbers. Bathed in the forest breeze, the wolves that hunted them grew stronger with their ample food supply. They no longer needed to hide or skulk about. After absorbing the vitality of the Blazing Sun Aspect Power, their gray manes took on shades of orange and red, and they became even more ferocious and unruly.

A breeze stirred the forest. A pale yellow leaf tinged with red drifted slowly down from a branch and landed on the head of a girl beneath the tree.

Its dry, stiff edge scraped across her snow-white, silky hair, then slid down with the breeze and her strands, coming to rest on the leaf-strewn forest floor.

A girl was confronting a Dire Wolf.

Sylutia stared tensely at the orange-red wolf before her, which was growling low. One hand twisted at the side of her skirt while the other trembled faintly in the air. From the corner of her eye, she searched desperately for anything nearby she could use.

Anything would do—a branch or a stick. Either would be better than facing the wolf barehanded.

She could no longer remember why, one moment, she had been sitting on a bus on her way back to her hometown, and the next, she had woken up in this deserted forest. She had walked for an hour without finding any sign of people. If everything before her and around her hadn't seemed so real, she would have thought she was dreaming.

"Grr..." The low growl came again.

The Red Wolf bared its mouth, revealing crooked fangs and scarlet gums. The orange-red mane along its back rose slightly, and it crouched low in front, its triangular eyes fixed on the silver-haired girl as if assessing her strength. Having been touched by the Blazing Sun Aspect Power, it was gradually leaving the realm of ordinary beasts and had gained a little intelligence.

The girl's snow-white, tender skin and clean, gentle scent all marked her as a rare delicacy. Though it had never eaten a human before, instinct told it that the creature before it would be the most delicious meal of its life.

Eat her!

The Red Wolf sprang into action. The girl barely saw it leap, but when its head was less than half a meter away, she reacted.

She turned her body sideways and raised her right hand before her chest. As the Red Wolf soared toward her, the slender fingers emerging from her sleeve deftly landed on its head. Her ring finger pressed against its eyeball. The stiff lashes and damp eye made her heart tighten, but she forced down her fear and pushed its head aside, making it miss and fly past her right side.

After dodging the first attack, Sylutia had no time to think. She stumbled forward, bent down as she ran, grabbed the branch she had spotted in a panic, then turned around. The Red Wolf was already pouncing again.

Sylutia had fallen while grabbing the branch and couldn't get up in time. All she could do was pull her legs back as much as possible to keep the wolf from biting them.

It had missed its target and only bitten the hem of her skirt. The Red Wolf released it, eyes blazing with fury, and lunged again for Sylutia's throat. She thrust out the dead branch in her clenched hand and drove it into the wolf's open mouth.

The rough bark scraped into its soft throat, filling the Red Wolf with a powerful urge to vomit. It drew back, tossing its head as it tried to dislodge the branch from its throat.

Violent, thrashing movements ran through the branch in Sylutia's hands. She knew she couldn't let the Red Wolf shake it loose. One hand gripped the lower end of the branch and held it inside the wolf's mouth, while the other seized the fur at the back of its neck, trying to pin it down.

The coarse, stiff orange-red mane pricked her hand, and the flesh beneath it was hard to grab. This thing was sturdy, the girl couldn't help thinking.

To keep the Red Wolf from breaking free, she pressed both knees down on its body. It nearly escaped several times, while its claws kept tearing at her skirt, leaving stinging scratches on her legs through the fabric.

Time passed...

She had no idea how many minutes had gone by. Just as Sylutia felt she couldn't hold on any longer, the Red Wolf's struggles beneath her finally began to weaken. Red froth spilled from its mouth, but she still didn't feel safe. She kept driving the branch deeper into its throat until it stopped moving and its heart no longer beat. Only then did she finally relax, somewhat reassured.

As she slowly stood up, Sylutia realized that her back was already soaked with sweat, and some strands of hair had stuck to her forehead. She took a deep breath, steadying her heart after its frantic pounding. At last, she had time to look around.

Orange-yellow, scarlet, and a little black. Sylutia studied the fur of the dead Dire Wolf at her feet. She had never seen an animal like it, in either shape or color. She seemed to remember that there were wolves with orange-red fur somewhere in the Americas, but they didn't look anything like the one before her.

Her fingertips brushed the stiff fur. A faint heat met her touch. It grew weaker the closer she got to the roots, and strongest at the tips, where it even pricked her slightly.

[Tilang Wolf]

In the middle and later parts of Rising Wind Season, wolves may be touched by the power of the Blazing Sun Aspect Power, causing their fur to turn orange-yellow. They then become "Tilang Wolves." When their fur turns fiery red all over, they become First Order Red Wolves. These vicious Red Wolves pose a serious threat to villagers and livestock, so they often appear in fairy tales.

At this time of year, hunters organize to enter the mountains and forests to cull them in advance. Some nobles also enjoy the activity, hanging the pelts of the Tilang Wolves they hunt in their reception halls as symbols of their honor and bravery. In time, the activity became a tradition in many places, and the season came to be known as the "Tilang Festival."

Note: The pelts of "Tilang Wolves" and "Red Wolves" contain a trace of the Blazing Sun Aspect Power, making them very good at keeping out the cold in winter. If preserved until the Season of Sinking Fog, their value rises further.

Sylutia blinked, surprised by the knowledge surfacing in her mind. Why did she know the dead wolf's origins? She had even learned a little about this world's history and customs.

It seemed she still had plenty to figure out.

She slowly got to her feet and looked around, then tried to drag the wolf's carcass. Its weight made her give up on taking it with her.

She had no tools at hand. She couldn't skin or butcher it, and besides, she had never killed a wolf before and had no idea where to start.

After thinking for a few seconds, Sylutia decided to keep heading out of the forest. She didn't know whether the dead wolf might attract other creatures, but since she couldn't make use of it, she had no choice but to leave it behind.

After resting for a few minutes, Sylutia straightened her rumpled clothes and hair, then continued along the shaded path. Judging by the sun's position, it was probably around three or four in the afternoon, past the hottest part of the day.

She had no idea where to find food or a place to spend the night. The girl patted her stomach, but she didn't feel hungry yet.

This body was clearly unlike the one she'd had before, yet moving in it felt completely natural, as if she had always been this way. As she walked beneath the trees, Sylutia slowly pieced together her memories.

She remembered clearly that she had received a call from home, so she had applied for annual leave at work to go back.

She had boarded a high-speed train and left the big city where she had worked for years, heading for the hometown she hadn't seen in so long. After graduating from high school, she had gone to another city for university, then started working after graduation. She had barely returned home at all, except for a few days around the New Year.

Come to think of it, it had been a long time since she'd walked through the mountains like this. The girl looked up, shielding her forehead with one hand as she gazed at the pale green and yellowing leaves above her.

Every summer vacation when she was little, she had spent a long time at her grandparents' home. They hadn't lived in the city, but in a remote mountain village surrounded by rolling green peaks, a little river, and all kinds of animals.

Her grandfather had kept a flock of goats and took them up the mountain to graze every day. When Sylutia was young, she would go along with a few of her older female cousins. Everything in the forest was endlessly fascinating to her, a girl raised in the city.

Chestnut burrs split open like spiky balls, bright red snakeberries by the mountain path that looked delicious, clusters of knobby green berries, strange bird calls she heard now and then, and owls in the trees that were hard to distinguish from fallen leaves. These things were like splashes of vivid color in her otherwise dull life, and they made young Sylutia especially happy.

Childhood in the city was rather dull. Looking back, she had spent most of her time at school, in tutoring classes, doing homework, or taking exams. Only at her grandparents' home could no one nag her to study, and she could play freely. Her aunts and uncles had doted on her too, asking what she wanted to eat and doing their best to indulge her.

Dragonflies, fireflies, caterpillars, butterflies, even the snakes in the woodpile—she had first encountered all these things from her textbooks in the mountain village back home. Going there every summer vacation had become the happiest time of her year.

Sitting on the bus home, she had leaned against the window and thought back on the past. Sunlight beyond the roadside trees had fallen on her, making her vision hazy for a moment.

It would be a great time to go fishing. It would be even better if she could catch a few crucian carp and cook them into soup.

Crucian carp were small fish, and the only kind she had ever caught as a child. Back then, all they had were bamboo rods, fishing line, and hooks—nothing like the vast array of gear people had nowadays.

After catching a crucian carp for the first time, she and a few of her cousins had gathered around a bucket, unsure what to do with it. Should they put it back in the water? The children couldn't bear to give up a fish they had worked so hard to catch, but it didn't look like there was much meat on it.

The silvery scales felt slippery in her hand. Held up to the sun, they reflected a hint of rainbow color. A row of tiny dots ran along the center of each side of the fish, fascinating the children.

In the end, her aunt had helped them clean the fish they'd caught and make them into soup.

"Too bad Grandpa never got to try any..." Remembering what had happened when she was ten, the girl sighed regretfully.

After that fishing trip, her grandfather had heard about it and laughed, saying he hadn't gotten to eat any. He asked when she would catch one for him, and she and her cousins had eagerly promised they would. But after that, the adults were afraid the children might drown while playing in the water, so they never let them near the river again.

The incident gradually faded from memory. Then, a few days ago, she had received a call and learned that her grandfather had passed away. Only then had she set out on the journey home.

She didn't know if she could ever return to her old world. Perhaps even if she did, it would be a very, very long time from now. Still, she missed the hometown in her memories and the beautiful recollections that had warmed her entire childhood.

With her arms held slightly out for balance, the girl stepped lightly onto a stone hidden beneath the dead leaves and made her way down the mountain. After so many years, her familiarity with mountain terrain returned to her, allowing her to pass easily over the rugged slopes and through the brush, moving beneath layers of forest shade.

She continued until just before sunset. After crossing one final small hill, she saw wisps of cooking smoke rising in the distance.

A quiet, old-fashioned medieval village, surrounded by fields, came into view.

There were no familiar utility poles or smooth concrete roads, only houses built from stone and rough-hewn timber. An old-fashioned windmill turned slowly in the wheat fields, while stacks of bundled straw lay across the open farmland.

As a carriage with iron plating slowly rolled along a narrow path between the fields, the Shield-Skin Exotic Beast pulling it came into view. Sylutia finally realized that this was an entirely different world—and that if she wanted to return to her hometown, she would have a very, very long way to go.

Wasn't the script supposed to be that she got a letter from her grandfather, went back to inherit the fields and pasture, and started a leisurely country life far from work?

Things had taken a sharp turn, all right. The girl made a small quip to herself, then headed toward the village below.