Bells. 

"Help me." 

It sounded like bells. 

"No. Your left. Take the left." 

I turned. The sound of its voice chimed through the trees like Sunday mornings. 

"Keep going. Please." 

It was louder now, louder than when I first heard it in my fields. Then it was a faint shimmer of sound on the afternoon's breeze. Now it rang through the branches like the calls of a chorus, its pained tone pulling me through the brush by my very spirit. 

"It hurts." 

I was sprinting now, for no discernable reason but that my heart compelled me to. The pain of the forest floor on my soles forgotten long ago, my sandals shed in haste and forgotton seconds later. 

"Here. I'm here. The lake, on the south shore." 

The forest opened and gave way to a small meadow, the center of which shimmered a small lake, glinting the afternoon sunlight. The breeze picked up, swirling in an almost angry matter, seeming to speak to me as well, disgusted with my intrusion. I scanned the lake's banks, and saw on the far shore a figure stretched out and partly immersed in the water, its feet dangling in the waves. 

"What happened?" I shouted, approaching as fast as I could. I could tell the figure was small, and dressed in an extravagant robe with equally intricate designs upon it. Its sleeves and hood concealed its wearer, the bell of the gown doused in the ebb of the lake. I could watch the rise and fall of their breathing, and each breath sounded like a struggle. I reached for the folds, the fabric softer than anything I had ever laid hands on. As gently as I could, I turned the figure over, a long, pained groan echoing off the trees like the retort of a mis-struck gong. 

The hood fell loose against the sands, and I gasped in shock as the early evening light struck upon the visage of a young fox, a kitsune, her face twisted in agony. Her red fur and hair were smeared in mud, tears strained down her cheeks, matting the fur. From the convoluted loops of her robe, three tails found freedom and hung limp and lifeless. 

"Oh gods," I whispered, cradling the fox-spirit in my arms. I gripped her knees a lifted, and she howled in terror as her feet lifted from the water, so loud I could feel my soul rattle. As gently as I could muster, I set her back on the sands, making sure her paws bathed in the lake. She settled, the sharp sudden pain seeming to disappear, and she turned to look at me with her azure eyes. 

"I'm sorry." 

"No, no. I'm sorry. I didn't know, I shouldn't have moved you, spirit. What happened here?" 

Her ears flattened and she winced. Around her feet, the waters grew dire and clouded, the surface restless. 

"A fight. A demon surprised me as I was feeding from this lake. His magic hurt me so badly I can't afford to leave the water, or I'll die." 

I found myself looking around the clearing, searching for the demon, not knowing what to expect. The kitsune's voice called my attentions back. 

"I don't want to drain this lake's spirit. I've enjoyed it for nearly two centuries, and I can't bear to take all its essence. I was raised here by my parents, and performed my first task with its waters..." Her voice trailed off as fresh tears formed in her eyes. 

"I did not expect anyone to hear my cries, but you came." 

I nodded softly, words for the moment having left my throat numb. My fingers combed her tangled hair trying to soothe her, and she licked my wrist. 

"How can I help?" I managed, my voice wavering with the breeze. 

The response was another question. "Why did you come? Surely you did not hear my words at first." 

"No, but I felt them... somehow. I don't how, but I knew I had to..." 

"Help me?" The kitsune finished, a smile seeming to grace her muzzle for an instant, before turning down, teeth baring as another pain wracked her body. Her hands gripped at my shirt, the claws shining with demon's blood. The waters her paws dangled in began to seethe and boil, the color beginning to take on a muddy hue. The scent of earth and sour milk seeped into the air. 

"My lake...!" 

I remembered this lake as well, happy memories of bathing with my family, washing the dirty toils of a long day in the field away with the cool water. Sometimes I had snuck out here at night against my mother's wishes, and spent an evening under the stars beside the lake, the sweet breeze of the forest lulling me to sleep when my bed failed. Memories faded with time and blurred by age sharpened as if by magic, memories of this place hidden by years of toil and work. It had been years since I came to this lake. I had forgotten its shape, its scent-- 

“Do you remember?” the spirit whispered. The chiming tones of her voice barely carried over the wind. 

Words fumbled over my lips almost as fast as I could form them. My eyes took in the meadow and matched leaf for leaf with my thoughts, “I do. Since my parents died, the farm became mine and I haven’t been here in years, but...” I looked down at the kitsune, her eyes meeting mine, “How long were you there, with us?” 

“Always, friend. We played together in the lake, although you never saw me. I believe your mother may have, and blamed a lot of your mischief as a child on me. Truth be told, the guilt is not unfounded. Maybe that’s why you heard my cries.” 

The waters around her feet toiled louder, the acrid smell lingering heavier in the air. Her hands, still clasping my shirt trembled, the strength in them beginning to ebb away. They faltered then opened, falling to the sand heavily. 

My heart raced against my chest, and I cradled her head in my hand, her very frame and form seeming lighter by the moment, “What can I do to help?” 

“I... I can’t ask that of you.” 

“All I have now is my parent’s old farm. They died years ago, and left me to tend it. In those years I’d forgotten of this place, and the joy it brought. If it is true, and you were there with me in those happy moments, then you are my family as much as my mother and father were. You can ask anything of me.” 

Her eyes glistened with tears, ears laid back in pain. They mingled and ran down her already sodden cheeks, falling to the sand and staining the grains dark. Her muzzle trembled, her words quivering and hanging in the air, a forever taking place before they reached me. 

“Please...” Her right hand lifted from the sand with great difficulty and weakly grasped mine. I could feel her hand dissolving, disappearing into mine and becoming one. A wave of rapture swept over me as I felt my hand grow slender and delicate, the ruddish hue of foxfur spreading over it, nails becoming claws. “...will you let me?” 

“I would be honored, spirit.” She leaned for me, reaching out with both arms as I picked her up from the shore and embraced her. For a moment, she cried out and I joined her, torment and pain wracking the both of us as we began to become one. I felt the kiss of her tongue against my cheek. Her words tolled against the branches as her visage fused with mine, the weight of her spirit ball settling into my heart. 

“My name is Miyuen, and it will be yours as well, but keep this secret, as we can be bound by it. You will remember me and yourself, and I will be with you in your dreams and in your steps. I cannot express my gratitude...” 

The world turned to light, the last of the spirit coming into me, and I inhaled sharply as her form became mine. Her memories and my own sorted and became one. Foreign lands that I had never trod upon became second homes. Spirits I had never gazed upon were suddenly ancient friends. I knew the elements and their powers, and my favored one, the rivers and lakes where I had been reared. 

I could feel the changes sweep through me, although within such an amalgam I could not concentrate on any single facet. Everything was changing at once, and the state of ecstacy clouded everything that seemed real. It was as if I could read the wind in my skin, and smell the waters of rivers miles away. 

The forest returned, the light parting like the curtains of a play. I felt the sands of the shore underneath strange feet, and when I opened my eyes I saw the still-glass waters of the lake before me. 

Reflected in the pool was the kitsune, but I recognized the visage as my own, as it had been for years. The girl in the pool turned as I, futzed with her silken robe as I, and smiled tearfully... just as I. All was wonderous and new, and at the same time, old and familiar. 

However, with a will of their own, my tails spread out behind me, all four softly waving in the evening breeze. 

“Four,” I chimed as I stepped upon the water, the surface undisturbed as I walked into the forest. My voice echoed through the meadow. 

I sounded like bells.