Rin & Orchid

Rin remembered the rainy evening when her old father revealed the truth to her. She was gutting the fish he had brought back from fishing, always careful to give some to Ukai, their domestic cormorant. It was thanks to him that they ate their fill every day. The rain traced circles on the water's surface, dripping through the thatched roof. Her father, Yonago, smoked his long pipe on the pier, blowing smoke rings into the darkening air. Then he entered the hut and sat beside her as she stuffed the pike with herbs, spices, and condiments. He looked pensive, almost worried.

Rin watched him for a moment, respecting his silence. After a few minutes, he moved closer to her and gently grasped her shoulders. His expression was surprisingly serious, far from his usual nonchalance. His words resonated within her, and her heart began to race. As he continued to speak, Rin's eyes widened gradually until they welled up with tears. That evening, Yonago revealed to her that he was not her father. That he had found her on his doorstep one rainy evening just like this one. She was just a tiny infant, barely a few days old, cheeks flushed with cold and a vigorous voice despite her tiny size. She was wrapped in vines and bluish foliage, in a cocoon lined with moss.

He had seen the Chimera — a human-sized praying mantis — depart. Its rosy hue was that of an orchid, as if its body mimicked the delicate petals of a flower. It had turned its eyes to him and had looked at him for a long time, as if to ensure that he would take good care of the child. And that's what he had done all these years. He had raised her as his own daughter, teaching her to walk, to talk, to decipher the language of nature, from the whims of the weather to the behaviors of animals. And at least once a season, the mantis would return to the edge of the forest to see if she had grown well, if she was happy in her habitat. Each time, Yonago would greet her with a nod before she disappeared back into the trees.

Rin finally understood. Since she was very young, she had been accustomed to leaving their cabin when her father took Ukai for a day of fishing. She took advantage of his absence to cross the river and venture into the diaphanous forest. There, under the semi-translucent branches painted with blue, mauve, or pink leaves, she explored the undergrowth in search of mushrooms, wild berries, or edible herbs. Aside from her daily gathering, she would play all day long, oblivious to the dangers. She watched the beaver family build a shelter, played hide and seek with the white wolf cubs of the lunar pack, and rummaged in the clear streams for shells or crayfish.

Of course, she always returned before the sun was high, to start the fire and begin cooking for her father. He was not fooled. He knew she ventured much farther into the forest than he had advised her, but everything seemed to smile at the young child. Nothing seemed to mean her harm. In the afternoons, she helped her father take care of the fishponds. She poured the fruit of their fishing into these tanks, watching the fry, the trout, and the eels wriggle. And twice a week, they would wake before dawn, load bins filled with water and fish onto the back of their yak, and untie the ropes of their barge to reach the floating city of Amorgand.

It was always a pleasure to see the bustle of the city of junks. They would position their boat along the canal among hundreds of others and wait for the boatmen to stop to buy some of their catch. There was something intoxicating in the city. Perhaps it was the spices or the fragrances of the market? Thousands of unknown and heady scents wafted in the air... And while she was happy to return to the tranquility of their cabin at nightfall, she loved to get lost in this maze of barges, jangadas, swing boats, cascos, and fûtreaux. She enjoyed moving from boat to ship, hopping from railing to jetty. She greeted the other merchants, offering them small fish in exchange for fruits and vegetables.

But what she liked most were the street food stalls. She salivated as she approached the stalls, thinking of sticky rice balls coated in sweet-salty sauce, grilled meat skewers, smoked squid... Every noon, it was her turn to fetch their meal. This moment was a bit of her guilty pleasure, and she always looked forward to it. But she didn't just enjoy tasting: she carefully observed the chefs' techniques, memorizing them meticulously, with the intention of reproducing them at home with the ingredients they had, even if it required some adaptation of the recipes…

All her life, she had lived on the border, between the world of humans and the wild expanses. And she appreciated equally what both had to offer: serenity and abundance on one side, excitement and noise on the other. It was as if she was a bridge between two universes, and she loved this place that had become hers. She couldn't see herself leaving it. In fact, she had made up her mind that she would take over from Yonago, training her own cormorant — or maybe a pelican — to help with fishing. Her father could rest in the mornings while she took care of spreading her nets over the calm waters of the brackish river…

But her father's revelation had come to disrupt all these plans, which had been matured over many years. It was as if her certainties had suddenly shed their feathers, like a tree shedding its leaves in winter. Who was the Chimera who had watched over her since childhood? Did she truly know where she came from? Many nights, sleep, usually so familiar, no longer came to her easily. Much to her regret, her adoptive father didn't know any more, no matter how much she insisted and how many questions she asked him. He simply said that she was old enough to know the truth about her origins, but he knew nothing about them.

One day, she woke up before her adoptive father, stroked Ukai's head so he would go back to sleep. She set off alone towards the forest, determined to find the only being who might know where she came from. Rin never knew, but Yonago had seen her leave without a word, knowing full well that it was a quest the young girl had to accomplish. Oblivious as she was, she passed by without stopping near Karhu's bear den, past the white limestone terraces and their turquoise waterfalls, without bathing for a single second in the thermal springs. She quickly greeted the wombat family, who were surprised not to see her stop, and had to decline Potaba's invitation, the fox with white feathers, who emitted a deep growl of disappointment…

She ventured farther into the spectral forest than she had ever been, where the bluish foliage undulated in an unreal breeze. The pallid trunks rose like columns of mist, the indigo canopy masked the sky, while ghostly lights danced like will-o'-the-wisps. As night fell, haloing the woods with an ethereal glow, Rin began to cry, from exhaustion, frustration, disappointment. She had traveled a long way without her benefactress appearing. Her feet hurt, her muscles were stiff... In a final attempt, she began to scream at the top of her lungs, desperately signaling her presence, hoping from the bottom of her heart that the Chimera would answer her call.

So she presented herself at the Muna temple in Amorgand, built on a colorful and converted schooner turned sanctuary. The air was saturated with incense, musk, and other unknown scents. Turuun, an old woman with parchment skin, received her and listened attentively. She was a priestess versed in natural ways, but also a diplomat who had dedicated her life to serving as a bridge between the human world and that of beasts. In return, she spoke to Rin about Musubi and the Muna. Rin drank in her words, fascinated by what she was. Everything she said resonated with her being.

When she returned to her father's raft, her thoughts were torn. On one hand, she was drawn to everything she had just discovered. On the other hand, there was the future she had until now taken for granted: to take over from her father, to live humbly from fishing and what nature offered them. Yonago sensed her turmoil but left her to her thoughts. On the way back, he revealed to her that nature and life had been generous to him. He had received gifts he had never hoped to obtain: a peaceful existence and a daughter he adored more than anything. But if nature gave, it was necessary to give back to it. And perhaps that was what Rin was meant to do, the reason for her existence.

Though moved to tears and suffering from the sudden realization, she knew her father spoke the truth. Her path was veering, leading her elsewhere. To bond with Orchid, she would have to journey to the Katkera, and perhaps become a Muna herself. She didn't know how long it would take, but even a few months away from her benefactor seemed like an eternity. Yonago took her in his arms and thanked her for what she had given him. Rin held him tightly for a long time, her eyes blurred with grief and happiness. He would remain her father, no matter what, and she would always find her way home, no matter the distance and time that passed…

The envisaged months turned into years. Rin and Orchid had accompanied Turuun to the Spindle and the Bark Refuge. Through the Musubi, they became an Exalt, then joined the Muna family. During this long absence, Rin sent letters to her father to tell him about her life, her trials, her discoveries... He sometimes replied with brief missives carried by the Talaria. She knew that paper and ink were expensive, and that he couldn't afford too much expense. But she was touched that he took the time to give her news, however sporadic it was.

One day, as Yonago was laying out his nets, he saw a frail figure raise its arm from the shore, accompanied by a more massive and insectoid form. Tears welled up in his eyes, for he would have recognized her among thousands. And at the sight of her, even Ukai croaked, flapping his wings. The fisherman abandoned his nets to sail eagerly to the young girl, holding her tightly in his arms under the benevolent but watchful eye of the mantis. They remained embraced like this for a long time, after years of separation.

As night fell, Rin told her adoptive father all about her initiation as a Muna, her apprenticeship in Alteration, her connection to the Skein... Through this energetic network, she was connected to everything around her, from the pebble on the beach to the egrets leaving their footprints on the gray sand. Thanks to the bond she had forged with Orchid, they conversed constantly through their thoughts. If she had become an Alterer, the Chimera had become her Alter Ego. They now formed a single being, a single soul.