The voice sighed, like a long-suffering parent.
"Turn around and head east."
"Where—"
"Turn around and head to your right," the voice repeated patiently.
"You know," Zhu said as she pivoted and started hopping in the instructed direction, "Sir Farts-a-Lot is a very long name."
"Not to mention nonsensical," the voice muttered.
"So," Zhu continued brightly, ignoring that, "I've decided to shorten it."
For the next hour, Zhu made her way toward the rushing springs, the final ingredients she needed for her healing remedy. As she went, she devoted a surprising amount of mental energy to refining the voice's nickname.
Another hour in, she stopped briefly to gather berries for a light snack.
Three hours into the journey, inspiration struck.
"I've got it," she announced. "How about Farty?"
"Absolutely not!" The voice sounded genuinely outraged.
Zhu laughed. "Okay, okay. Then maybe S. Farts?"
"Will you stop."
"Alright, alright… Sir Toots?"
"…."
"Sir Puffs? Oh—Sir Breeze! Sir Gas?"
"Honestly," the voice said stiffly, "where did you acquire such an outlandish naming convention?"
"The orphanage," Zhu replied easily. "The kids made poor Gilbert cry for days after he let one rip during morning assembly."
"That has no relevance to me," the voice said, trying and failing to sound reasonable. "You have never, and will never, hear me flatulate."
Zhu snorted. "I don't care. Besides, I already told you. To me, you are like a stinky forty."
"Well, to me, you are akin to a petulant child, but I would not make up an offensive name for you." The voice countered.
"Very noble," Zhu said dismissively. "How about Sir Al? Or Sir F.A.? Oh—oh! Sir Faral."
She sounded deeply pleased with herself.
The voice went quiet.
Eventually, he decided the situation did not merit further engagement.
"The rushing spring is approximately seven kilometres north of your current location."
Zhu froze. "…Seven?"
She was immediately distracted, "Oh my gosh, I hate walking. Don't you have flying powers or something, Faral?"
"Unfortunately, I do not," the voice replied dryly.
Zhu sighed and shook her head. "What are you even good for?"
"I ask myself that as well," the voice replied placidly.
After almost another hour, tracked precisely by the voice, who had apparently appointed himself her watch, Zhu reached the rushing spring area.
It turned out to be a thin squirt of water seeping from the side of a mossy hill.
"Well," Zhu said flatly as she approached the trickle to wash her hands, "this is underwhelming."
"The spring itself lies leagues away," Faral replied. "This water comes from a tributary that fractured into smaller waterways."
Zhu swinted at the trickle of water.
Sensing her disbelief, "It is spiritual water"
Zhu still did not see why she had to hop three hours for it.
The voice explained further, "Spiritual water accelerates the body's natural healing, it mends cuts, bruises, and fractures, restores drained spiritual energy, and cleanses lingering poisons or corruption. After contracts or awakenings, it stabilises the body and prevents backlash from borrowed power. On its own, it helps, but when paired with mortal medicine, its effects are far stronger."
"Oh. Alright," Zhu said, crouching beside the stream. "We're here. What do we do, Faral?"
"Use the shell of the forestdew nut. Grind one petal and a piece of the ginseng root together, using the spring water."
Zhu found a smooth stone and rinsed it clean. She laid out her ingredients, washing each carefully, including the ginseng, before using the sharp edge of the forestdew nut shell to slice off a measured piece of root. She plucked a broad leaf from a nearby tree and spread it flat like a table, then settled beneath the shade and began her work.
She paused, peering into the shell. Some of the white jelly still clung to the inside.
"Will the jelly affect the healing paste?"
"No," Faral said. "In fact, it will enhance the healing properties and contribute a small amount of energy."
Zhu nodded. "Wonderful."
She spent the next half hour grinding and mashing the mixture into a thick paste. It looked like damp earth, brown and grainy, but the scent was sharp and medicinal, strong enough to make her eyes water.
Just as her hand began to go numb, Faral spoke.
"It is the correct consistency. You may apply it to your wounds and ingest a portion to activate rapid healing."
"Oh, thank gods," Zhu muttered, scooping some of the paste and angling it toward her swollen ankle.
"Wait."
Her patience snapped.
"What now?" Zhu groaned, flopping back dramatically, arms and legs flailing like a disgruntled toddler.
"If you apply the treatment now, you will lose consciousness," Faral warned. "It is very strong."
Zhu exhaled hard. Of course, there were extra steps.
"Fine," she said sourly. "Where to?"
"We must find shelter for the night. Turn to your right, then walk straight ahead."
With a heavy heart, Zhu packed up, wrapping the nut shell and its precious paste in a large leaf and stuffing it into her already overfilled pockets. She grabbed her crutch and limped back to the water, rinsing the berries she'd gathered earlier.
"Can I at least drink some water?" she asked.
"Yes. The rushing spring water has healing properties and is safe for consumption."
Using another forestdew nut shell, Zhu caught a few mouthfuls of water and drank. It was cool and clean, refreshing enough to make her want more, but the voice cautioned her before she could.
"Right, right," she said with mild sarcasm, lowering the shell.
By the time she set off again, her limp had worsened. Even with the crutch, her injured foot dragged behind her. The water helped, but the injuries were too extensive.
"How much longer, Faral?" she asked quietly.
She considered asking how he always knew the time.
But she was too tired to care.
Her voice was barely a whisper; only the borrowed strength from the voice was keeping her going.
"Just a little bit further."
Zhu felt desperate. She was bleeding, her whole body trembling. She was still damp from her dip in the river, and the cold was seeping deeper into her bones with every passing second.
"I don't think I can make it, Faral." She stopped moving entirely, unable to force one foot in front of the other. "It's too much. I… I can't…"
Her vision blurred. Tears welled, then spilt over as her knees gave out and she collapsed to the ground. To call this the worst day of her life was an understatement. All she wanted was to curl up and disappear. Her chest hitched as she began to hyperventilate.
"I understand."
The voice was calm as always, but this time it carried warmth.
"You have done tremendously to get this far. Your spirit is indomitable. Most individuals faced with this sequence of events would have succumbed to madness long ago. It is remarkable that you have only broken down twice."
Zhu sniffed, her hands shaking as she wiped at her face. The words didn't fix her body, but they steadied something inside her.
"But," Faral continued, firm now, "you are not finished. You have come too far today. Just a little more, and you can eat, take your medicine, and rest."
Then the voice went silent.
Minutes passed.
The sudden absence clawed at her chest.
"Voice?" Zhu called aloud, panic rising.
"I was giving you privacy to cry."
"Oh."
Hearing him again eased something tight in her ribs.
"…Are you finished?"
"Yes. For now."
"Good. Then let's continue."
With a pained grunt, Zhu forced herself back to her feet and dragged herself forward. Half an hour later, Faral told her to stop.
Before her stood a stretch of forest that looked no different from any other.
"Alright," Zhu muttered. "Now what?"
"Look behind you. There is a twin tree growing there. Do not approach, just look."
Zhu turned. Two massive trees stood entwined, their roots fused and twisted into strange arches, some forming natural hollows.
"I see it."
"You will crawl inside the arched roots. But first, you must rub yourself with dirt."
Zhu frowned. "Dirt? Why?"
"You are bleeding. If you wish to avoid alerting predators to your resting place, you must mask your scent before entering."
She would have stomped her foot if it wouldn't sent agony through her leg.
"Fuck."
Without further argument, she dropped to the ground and smeared herself with the rich black soil. Tiny creatures protested the disturbance, biting her skin in retaliation.
"You tiny fuckers!"
"You could eat some of them," Faral offered helpfully.
"Yuck, Faral. No."
"They are an excellent source of protein. Earthworms, especially."
"Just shut up and let me do this."
Once she was sufficiently filthy, Zhu crawled into the dark space beneath the roots. Moss carpeted the ground, cool and damp. There was no light, but after the day she'd had, fear barely registered. All she wanted was rest.
The passage narrowed in places, forcing her onto her belly, squeezing through tight gaps. She pushed the crutch in front of her even though it would have been easier to leave it behind. The voice did say the paste would help heal her foot she did not want to leave it behind. She crawled for quite some time until finally the tunnel widened and branched.
"Take the one on your right."
She obeyed. A few minutes later, she emerged into a larger hollow, almost a cave.
"This is where you may remain while you heal."
Soft blue light illuminated the space.
"Wow," Zhu whispered.
"Glow worms. Do not eat them. They are highly poisonous."
"As if I would ever eat a worm," Zhu muttered, limping farther inside.
The cave was spacious. It was formed from the intertwined roots of the twin trees, their ancient growth creating a hollowed sanctuary beneath the forest floor. Thick roots arched overhead like natural ribs, smoothed by time and woven together so tightly they felt more carved than grown.
"Moss and pale lichen padded the walls," Faral offered unsolicited commentary on the decor of the hollow. "They mute sound and hold warmth"
Zhu stared around, exhausted but awed.
A jagged rock jutted from the cavern wall, its surface split and scarred by time. Thick roots snaked around the massive boulder. From somewhere above, water dripped steadily, each drop falling with quiet precision into a small, crystal-clear pool below.
"…Wow," she breathed again. "Looks like I got the premium cave."