Take'Ichi woke up covered in spores and back in his original body around sunrise. Kagemaru and Hiiro coughed and spluttered, brushing the dust out of their hair and shaking it from their clothes. The sprite repeatedly tried to apologise, but the other two could barely respond through their sneezing and hacking.

Rubi had not seen Kagemaru's wings for a while, but up here in the privacy of the great outdoors he finally took off his shirt to rid it of pollen. The skin where the bones were separating into two was reddened and itchy looking. Tiny downy feathers had started to grow in the new space between, giving the area the look of a baby goose or swan.

"How are those wings feeling?" she asked.

He replied with an unpleasant sniffle, like someone suffering from hayfever, and rubbed his eyes.

"A bit sore." he replied. "Not too bad though. Can't sleep so well, since I roll over a lot."

"They do look a bit irritated. Maybe they're nearly done splitting and it's almost over."

"Let's hope so. Maybe after they're done I'll be able to fly too."

Rubi grinned at him.

"That would be awesome."

Hiiro shook out his own shirt a few paces away. Only now did Rubi notice a long, thin scar running down the back of his ribs like a length of red twine. It was unmistakably from a blade.

"Where'd that come from?" she said, gesturing to her own back.

"Oh," he said, craning his neck as if to check it was still there. "A year or so ago I was being chased out of a private party I wasn't invited to. Lifted some trinkets to sell later, got busted. I escaped though, the guard mostly got my jacket with his sword. Merely skimmed me."

"Why would you steal from a place that was guarded?"

"I didn't plan to initially. I got snubbed by the girl I was into, who was attending. Stealing something just made me feel better after seeing her with someone else."

Rubi shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but I will never understand the lengths guys go to when there's a girl involved."

Hiiro shrugged back at her.

"Come on, you'd do something stupid for one of waitresses at Chandra's if it got her attention."

"Hey, you don't know that!"

"We're full siblings. You have inherited the same gift for stupidity as me. Ubaba started a war when he couldn't be with umama, didn't he? It's in our blood to risk life and limb for love."

"And to end slavery, overthrow a tyrannical ruler, and close the wealth inequality gap."

"Also important, but for the point I'm making, this is the most important one."

Hiiro smiled, glancing over his shoulder to see Kagemaru walking back to the tents.

"What about Gaku, though? You're pretty fond of him, aren't you?"

Rubi felt her stomach do a somersault.

"I like him a lot. But I don't see myself getting into a relationship with anyone. I'd rather not be nailed down."

"A relationship can be anything you need it to be. Gaku would understand your need for adventure, it's the same thing he lives for. You two looked at each other differently by the time we all went our separate ways."

"Don't be silly," Rubi replied, waving him off. She hoped she was able to hide the lie from her face. "Even if we would make a good couple, it's not what I want right now. I've got too much to do at this point in my life."

"Just my impression." Hiiro said, rolling his eyes. "You're welcome to disagree."

After a breakfast of fried boar belly, they buried the remains in a shallow hole, covering it in leaves and sticks for the wildlife to enjoy. Today was it. The last few hours with Hiiro. It had been nice to let loose last night and just enjoy themselves. A good note to leave on.

Rubi felt the new medication was sitting well with her. Taking it with food helped prevent any nausea and it made a strong impact on the pain in her abdomen. She had always been encouraged to walk through the pain, as exercise would help with the symptoms. Before she had medicine to treat it, she often could barely stand.

This medication gave her a giddy feeling that was not unpleasant. It was like being tipsy and sure helped the time pass more easily as they walked. Mimi estimated they walked between ten and twenty miles a day. The terrain ultimately determined their pace but they had managed to keep it brisk.

"Does Hiiro have to go today?" Sama asked with a trembling lip.

"Yeah, kiddo." Kai replied, patting her shoulder. "He's got things to do back in Migiue. We'll see him again sometime though, don't worry."

"I hope so. I like Hiiro."

Rubi saw Hiiro crack a flattered smile while he pretended to be busy checking over Gamal.

"Look after him, alright?" she whispered to the mule. "I mean it. You kick anyone who tries to harm him as hard as you can."

He lipped at her hair, as usual. Rubi took that as a done deal.

When the fork in the road came, she hugged her brother tightly, unwilling to let go. He hugged her back equally tight. Going towards their goals together would have made them both feel better, but their paths were taking them different ways. Life did that. It made you take difficult turns, travel strange paths.

"I love you, you know that, right?" Rubi said when she found the strength to release him.

"I do," Hiiro nodded. "And I love you too, to the moon and back."

"I love you to the moon and back." Sama said suddenly in a loud whisper. Kai chuckled.

Hiiro then said his goodbyes to the others, finally opening his arms to Sama for a hug.

"Last but not least." he said softly and Sama hugged him earnestly.

He looked over his shoulder once as he led Gamal down the path Rubi could not follow, waving one last time. She waved back, watching him go for a good minute before clearing her throat and rubbing the threat of tears from her eyes.

"Let's go." Rubi said, attempting to sniff quietly.

Indra's mātā patted her arm knowingly, not needing to say anything. She walked quietly next to her instead of riding in the cart with pitā, a mother's comfort only an arms length away. Juda nuzzled her face a little more than usual and she made sure to praise his affection, if only to make herself feel better. She chewed a piece of jerky aggressively until it practically dissolved and she bit the inside of her cheek. Her solution to the taste of blood was to eat another piece of jerky and take out her anxious energy on it. Be safe Hiiro.

Over the hours, Rubi noticed the road they were taking became more worn. The cold air felt thinner here. They walked for hours each day and she found herself more out of breath than ever, thought it was possible her tiredness was just finally catching up with her.

Sheepskin rugs were no feather bed. Mimi had said that it would become more difficult to breathe the higher they went, but if they allowed themselves to acclimatise they should suffer no severe symptoms. Altitude sickness, she called it. Rubi's body was not used to being so high above sea level. She did notice that neither Take'Ichi or Kagemaru seemed to be affected by the change like she was. Perhaps because Take'Ichi grew up somewhere similar and Kagemaru was practically half bird. He would be a pretty useless bird if he struggled to breathe at high altitudes.

If his father had six wings and Kiramaru could fly with just four, he was born to take to the skies. She was excited for him. She would love to fly. The freedom, the thrill it offered.

When night fell once more, the lights of a village illuminated the hillsides ahead. A few multi-level pagoda style roofs strung with lanterns broke through the darkness and into the skyline, but most of the buildings were short, brick structures with wood shingled roofs. There was a broad wooden bridge spanning over a shallow, rocky river that churned with whitewater, the only crossing for miles.

All around the hillsides were layers upon layers of terrace farms, coiling around the hills like a giant's staircase. This was it. Just too far to reach today. Indra was thrilled to hear that home was so near. The uneven ground had been difficult for him, so he had spent a long time riding in the cart with his parents. He was eager to walk on familiar turf soon, to feel how well he remembered it.

"Mansunsing village." he said. "The air smells sweet. Just like it did before I was taken."

It must be nice to be sentimental about home, Rubi thought.

The bitterness of her inner voice shocked her a little. Calm down there, me. It wasn't all bad. There were good times.

"I know it's too early for flowers," Kai said in a gentle tone. "But this sure is beautiful. All those farms. All the fruit trees."

He stared fondly at the dimly lit hillsides in nostalgia.

"There were lots of farms where Kai was born." Sama said confidently.

"That's right." he replied. "I remember the orchards a bit. There were berry bushes."

"I hope I see your home one day." she replied.

"One day, Sama. One day."

Rubi saw his hand on top of the meteorite in his satchel. It was easy to forget that Kai had his own needs to pursue, all the way in Daikoku with the Fire Tsuki.

Kai sat up against a tree with his book, the same way Rubi might if she wanted to read privately. The light must have been poor as he went over the same page over and over. It looked more like a notebook than a printed book, maybe the notes inside were messy. Sama was passed out in his lap like a throw rug, her belly full of fire roasted yam and sugared mango slices.

"Confusing page?" Rubi asked.

Kai tilted the book towards his chest, suddenly snapped back to reality.

"Always." he replied, then he yawned. He seemed to now notice Sama flopped in his lap, arms and legs sprawled. "It's later than I thought. I should put this little one to bed."

"Do you want me to get the tent door?"

"Yes, please."

Kai carried the sleeping child to their tent. Take'Ichi was there, already asleep, but Indra was still awake.

"Just putting Sama to bed." Rubi whispered. "Why are you still awake, Indra?"

"I just wanted to listen for a while." he whispered back. "I want to hear the birds the moment they wake up. I'm so ready to be back home."

"I can ask Mimi if she can wake you up early? I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"That would be lovely." he replied.

Sama curled into her blanket nest and Kai kicked off his shoes to settle down.

"Goodnight, Rubi." he said quietly and smiled.

"Goodnight, Kai. Goodnight, Indra."

Mimi was stargazing next to the tent, gently patting the mules. They lay down to sleep, heads outstretched and legs folded up like dogs. At first Rubi thought one was missing, and with a heavy heart she remembered that Gamal and Hiiro were gone. Gamal snored like he had a little motor in his chest. The group was too quiet now.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" Rubi said to Mimi, admiring the night sky.

"It is." Mimi agreed. She was smiling, a fraction broader than normal. "The more I look at these stars, the more confident I feel that we're going in the right direction."

"That's great!" Rubi replied enthusiastically. "We're getting there. We're going to find where you came from."

"If we find it," Mimi said slowly. "If we find my home... would you be sad if I wanted to stay?"

The question took Rubi a little by surprise. She had not thought about possibly leaving Mimi behind, to stay where she knew she belonged.

"I'd miss you if you wanted to stay there." she replied honestly. "But if it's what you need to be happy, I'd trust you to make the right decision for yourself."

Mimi stared at the floor. An unmistakable look of sadness transformed her face as if she could burst into tears.

"I like being with you. I like our crew, running the ship, helping you. I just can't predict how I'll feel if we find my home and I love it just as much as I love my life now."

"We'll handle it when we get there. Whether it's on this trip, or another, we'll find your home and you can make that decision. We don't need to stress over it now."

"You're right." Mimi said, getting up and brushing off her snow clothes. "How's everyone else?"

"Kai and Sama just went to bed. Poor kid just passed out while Kai was reading. Indra asked if you can get him up a little before sunrise, is that alright?"

"Yes, I can do that." she obliged. "Shall we go to sleep too?"

"Yeah. Let's go. Tomorrow we'll be at Mansunsing village. Real food, real beds. The good stuff."

"I'm sure everyone will appreciate that. I'm excited for Indra to be back home."

They clambered into bed quietly. Mimi folded her arms over her chest and closed her eyes to rest. Rubi closed her own eyes and tried to urge good dreams into her mind. The pain in her belly was threatening to come back. Should she take another tablet? It was probably too soon. She eyed the bag she knew the pre-pressed pills were in. No. It was too early, tempting as it was. She rolled over onto her side so she did not have to look at the bag. Time to sleep.

The sound of dragging and scraping woke Rubi from a pleasant sleep with a jolt. Thump. Thump. Scrape. She rolled over, tugging on her boots, energy buzzing through her hands. Mimi was gone. What-

"Namaskar, mitr!"

That was Indra's voice. He sounded well. Rubi knew the phrase because it was said by everyone in Akali, a general greeting to all, "Hello, friend."

"Namaskar, padosee!"

That was mātā.

The fright in her chest simmered down. But what was that noise?

Poking her head out of the tent, she saw an almost familiar creature lumbering down the worn path, dragging an enormous log behind it.

It was an elephant, the smaller kind found here in the East of the Mainland nations. Two tons of grey, leathery skin and muscle, the long trunk swaying and the rounded ears twitching. It was amazing how two so similar, but yet still so different, creatures could have thrived in two vastly different environments.

This elephant was domesticated, as a driver sat on top of it's shoulders, no doubt the logger who felled the tree.

"Namaste, padosee!" called back the rider. His face illuminated suddenly and he stuttered a little in surprise. "In- Indra?" he gasped. "Ghar mein svaagat hai!"

He signalled the elephant to lift a leg and he climbed down the bent knee like a step, rushing over to embrace the happy family. He was quite short, Rubi noticed, around the same age as Indra was.

A high pitched squeal sounded like a siren from somewhere else in the camp, making Rubi jump in surprise.

The delight on Sama's face was indescribable and she immediately dropped the armful of kindling and interesting rocks she had found.

Back in Minami, at Port Kibo, Sama had seen the golden elephants on Rubi's shawl and wanted to see one in real life. Here was her chance. The elephant looked in the direction of the shriek with gentle, marmalade colour eyes.

Though less impressive in size than their southern counterparts, this eastern elephant was clearly well socialised and obedient to human commands, which was its own blessing. What a great opportunity.

"Namaste." said the rider, waving at Sama. He looked to mātā and said something, gesturing to Sama.

"Say hello to the elephant?" she asked, holding out a hand for Sama to take.

The little girl immediately took it, jittering with anticipation. The rider patted the animal's trunk affectionately. Sama reached a quivering hand forward and the elephant met her in the middle, stretching down to her carefully with its long nose. The little girl became braver and moved closer until she was patting the gentle giant. She traced the crinkles on its skin and in return the elephant patted her face softly. She smiled broadly.

"Bahut shukriya!" she said to the driver cheerily.

What was that? How did she know what to say in Akpashtin? Did she possibly hear it from someone else and figure it out? Children with no language in common could often play and communicate with each other in their own way, picking up on the common phrases and using their own made up words.

She certainly was special.

"Captain!" Indra's mother called out, seeing her in the tent door. "Come! This man lives near me!"

Rubi realised she had not moved from the tent door, flap sitting on her untied hair. Without her usual drawstring tie, her thick red curls coiled up in two high arcs, parted on the centre-right of her scalp. If she pulled it straight she could make it reach down to her ribs but it bounced back, proud of its shape. Just like ubaba's. Just like Hiiro's.

"I'll be out in a minute, I'm just getting dressed!" she called out, pulling the tent flap down.

She hastily pulled on her warm clothes, tied up her hair and trudged out across the frosted ground. Sama was engrossed in petting the elephant, and across the firepit Mimi, Indra and pitā were talking quietly, stoking the growing flames.

The elephant rider was happy to wait for the group to pack up and walk up to the village with them. He packed some of their gear onto the animal's back, giving the mules a well deserved rest.

Mātā and the neighbour chatted in Akpashtin for most of the walk, the steady rhythm of the elephant's feet setting a beat along with the low hum of the log dragging behind them.

Rubi took a swig of a waterskin to wash down the morning's tablet. If it touched her tongue it was gross, a real toe-curling taste. At some point, Kai lifted Sama onto his shoulders so she could enjoy the scenery. The road grew straighter and smoother the closer they got to the village. The orchards and terrace farms were even more stunning close up. Patterns from ploughing left simple but pretty undulating lines in the dirt, tiny sprouts peeking from the surface in a myriad of greens. Each layer of the terrace was a slightly different shade. Several were dedicated to growing rice, a staple of Akali's diet.

The air began to smell like civilisation. Wood fires, incense, cooking, farm animals. The closer they got, the more the smells muddled together in a sensory overload. After smelling nothing but pines and new grass for a while, the scents hit Rubi's nose quite aggressively.

As they approached the outer buildings, Rubi could see some people. They were dressed more plainly here, in muted colours, but everyone still wore collarless tunics, shawls, skirts and saris. The city was rich, and this was just a small, rural community. Many had their layers tucked up into their waistbands away from the dirt roads, exposing tapered trousers. Some had colourful accessories like those from aunt Chandra's home, including a unique, brightly patterned brimless cap Rubi had not seen before.

When she suddenly saw some young men in turbans, she remembered Indra telling her about people wearing them as their own personal crown, the ruler of their own life and carer of their people. Every adult she had seen was wearing some kind of headwear. Though diverse, they all served the same purpose. The thought made her smile. It was a nice sentiment.

The logger lived on the outer circle of the village where his elephant had room to be comfortable. After Sama had been thoroughly convinced that she could visit the elephant again the next day, mātā and pitā led them up a slope to their home, and gods it was beautiful.

The house had clearly stood for many generations. Half of the ground floor was built into the rocky base of a hill. The other half was composed of thick, stacked stones and topped with a wooden second floor. Finally, it was shaded by an ancient mango tree.

The doors and windows were old, carved works of skilled carpentry, stained with crimson polish. Many editions of clay shingles slotted together in an ebbing gradient of old and new.

"Indra, your home is beautiful."

Indra said nothing.

He had walked, hands outstretched, towards the mango tree next to the house. He touched its bark, tracing his fingers over the rough buckles and knots. Following his memory, he ran his fingers up the trunk and felt the tree hollow, the only one a person could reach from the ground.

His eyes welled up and the tears began to fall. Mātā and pitā rushed over to hold their son.

"Come, we'll go inside." Pitā said and beckoned the group to come inside. "Let's put the mules in the pen and make some dinner. Good Mansunsing food."

Rubi started to untack Juda, feeling like now that Indra was crying, she might too.

"This is it." Kagemaru said suddenly, staring up at the hills. "We got Indra home. Our last passenger."

"Possibly the most important one." Kai added. "He organised the rescue with Gaku after all."

"Why did Indra cry?" Sama asked Kai.

"Sometimes people cry when they're happy. He must be very glad to be home."

"Oh, right." the little girl said, nodding.

They stowed the tack in the carved stone part of the house, which was largely storage. It had once been a cave stretching back a number of meters and they had built their home onto it.

"The cave was already here when my ancestors started to construct the first stone buildings of the village." Pitā said over a dinner of rice, yak meat and vegetable dumplings, flatbread and dhal. Rubi savoured the steaming dumplings and the rich soup inside, even while it burned her mouth. "Before that, they lived in the caves and in thatch huts. This house, and the mango tree, have been here for as long as anyone can remember, forever growing. Just like the families."

"Thank you for this wonderful meal." Rubi said sincerely. "But please don't spoil us. We're just regular guests."

"You have come at a good time for this village." Pitā replied, genially placing his hand on her shoulder. "There is plenty to share with friends."

He paused, looking at his beloved son with such genuine warmth it made Rubi's heart swell. But then his face crinkled with sadness.

"When Indra was born, we were in a famine." Pitā explained. "Even the great trees could not provide enough to feed the people. Many children were hungry, many died and some that lived grew up blind, like Indra. We built and perfected our village's stone irrigation system for two decades to carry river water to our fields, and to never allow such a tragedy to happen again. Many men my age dedicated their lives to building it. The ache in our bones comes from a place of pride, something that will be depended on for generations. The food grown from my work is made to share."