Chapter 2: Led By A Whisper

The winds tug at my tunic, urging me to walk faster toward the city. Night has fallen, the darkness pierced by the brightly colored lights of the city. It is a small city, I imagine, but to me it looks huge, a hungry animal waiting to swallow me. I seem to be developing a habit of walking into danger.

The lights are so bright, too brilliantly colored, that it seems almost unreal. I hear voices on the stinking city winds; laughter and conversations whirled into a dizzying array of sound that pummels my sensitive ears. I still have a large hill to climb until I reach the outskirts of the city, but already my eyes ache from the glow of buildings clustered so tightly together. I smell food, strange food that I do not recognize the scent of, and hear the sound of clattering pots and yelling of the cooks. In the Spirit World, my heightened senses gave me an advantage, but here, they deliver a headache.

I cough, trying to breath through my mouth rather than nose, so that the smell does not overwhelm me and make my head throb worse. The air is full of toxic gases, dirt and filth and a million smells that are unfamiliar to me. I feel I might be sick. But I will not give up just because of some odor. To a human, these smells are unnoticeable, part of the air they breathe every day, and if I am to be forever a part of this world, I will learn to ignore them too. Soon, I shall come to stink of human, as once Chihiro came to lose her human scent in our world. It is all a matter of adaptation.

I must rest a moment. My legs ache, accustomed to smooth tile floors and hardwood boards. I have not until now realized that even the slaves of Yu-baaba's bathhouse live a very comfortable life, accustomed to plentiful food and warmth and a clean lavish place to live. How spoiled we are. But humans are the ones that have made this world so dirty, so wild, with their wars and machines and spreading populations. I rub my torn feet, wincing at the pain of numerous scratches and the dirt that has worked itself into them. I tear a strip of fabric from each of my pant legs, and tie one around each of my feet. Though it does not cover all of my cuts, it will certainly protect more and give me some relief. Searching in a small pouch that is tied on a cord around my waist, I find a bottle of an herbal liquid, and rub some over the worst of my cuts. I am glad I came at least somewhat prepared. Even so, looking at my battered feet, I miss the life of being an apprentice to a wealthy witch. But I must not think of that. I cannot go back. I will adapt to this world. It cannot be so hard.

I take a deep breath, trying to fill my aching lungs. It has not been customary for me to walk very far or often. In the Spirit World, if I needed to go somewhere, I flew. But I cannot do that now. That was the price that I was forced to pay Yu-baaba in return for my freedom. I was required to surrender my power to change form. Oh, I still have my magic. Even she cannot take that away from me. But I will never fly as a Dragon again. I will be anchored to the ground, like all the humans around me.

I rise shakily, my legs protesting. They demand their life of a delicate slave-child back. I hold my arms out for balance, trying not to fall over from tire and the uneven ground of the hill. I take a moment to reacquaint myself with the irregular ground. The forest winds whisper a farewell, and depart. I am left with the breeze of the city, a much weaker and unfriendly wind. These breezes are ill with poison fumes, angry at my human form. Humans make them sick, with the pollutants they create. But I shake my head, and speak to the winds. I am not whom you ought to be angry with. I wish to help you, I tell them. They are wary, but they feel that I have the power within me that humans do not.

I reach out to gently touch them. Sensing the power of the air in me, they curl around my body, and I try not to cough. I am very tired from my trek this far, but my need to help them is greater. Closing my eyes, I feel the warm tingling of my power spreading through my body, like a geyser emitting its water. My power radiates outward, bathing the sick winds in healing cleansing. They sigh in relief, purged of the poison that weighs them down.

When I reopen my eyes, I am even wearier than before. With Yu- baaba's theft of my other form, she took a large part of me, and my powers now have little to draw on but my own Life Force and willful spirit. The winds thank me, caressing me with warm appreciation. I allow a hint of a smile to touch my lips, the pleasure of a job well done. Will you help me, I ask. They agree, and wrap close around me, shielding me from the smells and dirt of the city air with their newly clean nature.

I begin the long, difficult climb up the hill, crawling so that I will not fall from the steepness of its curve and the slickness of the grass. The grass cuts my hands, sharp blades fed on the filth of the nearby city. I am determined, and I block out any pain or discomfort from my mind, setting it onto a single track: to get up this hill and into the above city. My new friends whisper encouragement, chasing away other city breezes when they try to come near me. For this I am thankful, for to breathe the thick dirty air while my lungs strain with this exercise would be most unpleasant.

At last, I reach the top of the hill, and I allow myself a triumphant smile. I have gone through the forest, and now I am but yards away from the noisy city. "Is it as bad as it smells?" I ask the winds, staring at a building with flashing red and orange lights and loud screeching I assume is music. 'Worse.' They answer. I frown, displeased with this reply. But I have to go on. I must. And so, I thank the breezes for helping me, and set off again. To my surprise, they follow like loyal pups. I smile to myself, glad for friends in this foreign place.

The grass grows more and more sparse as I near the ugly black stone that paves the streets. I pause, my feet on the edge of the dirt road that leads to the rough black stone avenue. I stare at the brightly lit buildings, wondering if Chihiro had ever been in any of them. 'Better to go now than later.' The breezes whisper, and I nod agreement. I step onto the strange black stone. It is even rougher than it appears, and not just dirt but oil and grease cake it. I step as lightly as I can, disgusted to let my already wounded feet acquire this filth in the cuts. I see strange covered wagons, shiny and cased in different colored metals, flying fast in different directions.

I see one approaching too late, and I hear screeching as it attempts to stop in time to avoid hitting me. I react on instinct, my lightning fast movement of running onto the pale gray path beside me the only savior of my life. I feel the wind of the close encounter on my heels, it was that close. I am safe now, though my heart pounds with the speed of a waterfall. I scold myself silently for not taking better care to watch my surroundings. A man sticks his head out of the shining black wagon, and yells at me angrily in a language I don't understand. I ignore him, and decide it is better to walk on the less dangerous appearing gray path. I set off, though his yells follow me for many steps.

I look around as I walk, my senses trying to become accustomed to the brightness and close settings of the buildings. People pass me on the gray path, staring at me as if I were not human. In truth, that assumption would be correct, but I know that I look as human as they. Ah, it must be my clothes. No one I see wears clothes such as mine. My tunic and knee-length pants no doubt look strange to humans dressed in rough long blue pants and loose shirts with pictures on them. But I do not care for what they think. Let them wonder as they will. They do not matter to me, for I am looking for only one person, who once wore clothes much like mine.

I hear the raucous laughter of a drunken human, who stumbles out the door of a colorful building emitting music that rakes my ears like knives. I stop, watching as she sways this way and that, off to somewhere where she might lie down (or so I hoped, for her sake). She waves merrily at me, smiling in a way that only those who are not very aware of their surroundings do. I simply watch her. How strange, these humans. They poison all around them. Their planet, their life- giving trees and rivers, their air, even themselves, and yet they seem so unaware of it. Or perhaps they only do not care. I vow to myself, here and now, that I will do my best not to add to the filth of this world.

The drains lead under the gray path, and I watch as rainbow colored water, thick with oil and chemicals, disappears below. This world is so dirty. How will I ever live here? I will never be like them. 'I must find Chihiro,' I remind myself, 'not stand here brooding on the stupidity of humans'. Not all humans are bad. Chihiro is good as an angel, or was, last I saw her. Has she too been poisoned by her world? I hope not. I resume walking, accompanied by the breezes that are already becoming once again heavy with the city air.