Blood Fragrance
Ever since I was born into this world, experienced the passing seasons, and saw snow for the second time—around when I was two—Remi began reading me fairy tales every night. To me at two years old, the then six-year-old Remi read with all her might, her pronunciation still clumsy and unpolished. She was so adorable back then. Sometimes she'd stumble on a tough word, sneak off to ask Mom for help without me noticing, then return triumphantly to continue the story, which never failed to make me burst out laughing. Honestly, I can admit it now, but I knew all along, Remi....
Remi would tell me new stories every day, but she often revisited her absolute favorites, reading them over and over. Among them, the very first one she read to me—and her most beloved of all—was The Alice of the Blue Forest.
The protagonist, Alice, was a girl who dreamed of adventure. She felt her life spinning in place like a windmill, fixed and unchanging. So to her, her parents—who forbade her from entering the forest—were nothing but an annoyance.
"There are monsters in the forest that eat people. Never go in there."
To Alice, the forest wasn't some terrifying lair of beasts; it was a peaceful haven where birds chirped and deer frolicked. Why do Mom and Dad keep me from going into the forest? Could there be treasure hidden there?
If she'd been the obedient daughter who always listened, the story wouldn't have gone anywhere. She'd have grown into an ordinary girl, caused no trouble, married, had kids, lived to a ripe old age, and died quietly. But alas, this is a fairy tale—and fairy tales exist to teach lessons.
This one is a warning: Good people receive blessings, bad people get punished. Children who ignore their parents' advice meet misfortune. Excessive greed brings harm.
Foolishly, on a day when the sun blazed higher than ever, Alice ignored her parents and ventured into the forest. There, she met fantastical beings and forged bonds with them. She helped a little fairy who'd lost her wings by the water, found them, and returned them. She uprooted a small tree that couldn't get sunlight because it was overshadowed by taller ones and replanted it in a sunnier spot. She advised a dwarf who dreamed of crafting boots durable enough to wear for a century, and an enthusiastic fish who longed to train her gills someday to fly through the sky.
These encounters with mystical creatures she'd never known thrilled Alice's heart. "Living is the most joyful thing," she said. "Just breathing doesn't mean you're alive. Before, I was no different from a lifeless statue, merely existing. But now, I'm truly alive." With each precious connection she made, her surroundings grew noisier—but to her, the clamor was delightful.
But a child who defies her parents must face punishment. This fairy tale was written as a warning to disobedient kids.
Warning. The place her friends all warned against entering. The deep forest shrouded in darkness. The box she must never open—but oh, how tempting it was.
"Hey there, who are you?"
"...Me...?"
Alice, who entered that place, encountered the "monster."
The Alice of the Blue Forest
A soft fabric brushed against my eyelids. I tried to move, but it felt like heavy weights were chained to my body, sinking me into the sea—I couldn't budge an inch. A strange scent wafted over: bitter herbs mingled with the metallic tang of blood, creating a dizzying haze.
Haa. Consciousness sharpened bit by bit. To grasp what had happened, I recalled my last memory. The perfectly executed plan, the exquisitely beautiful death, even the love from those dear to me—yes, it all came back.
Anna stabbed me in the gut over and over. I'd dodged the vitals, but from there, I tumbled off a cliff that looked dozens of meters high. Even if they'd fished me out right away, survival would have been impossible. No, not slim odds—zero chance.
So what was this sensation now? Had I died and been reborn anew? No. It was different. Something was wrong. As someone more familiar with death than anyone, I could tell. This wasn't it.
It was more wretched than death, more pitiful, more miserable. Despair crashed in, along with horror and sorrow. Tears welled up.
Ah, so that's it.
—I've been alive all this time.
"......—, ah—"
Where... am I? My mouth was parched like drought-stricken earth. I tried to speak, but only a faint groan escaped. My throat felt cracked and raw.
My voice was hoarse, the pitch lower, but utterly familiar. That confirmed it. For whatever reason, Aris Akaia had survived.
Clack.
"—You've awakened."
"....Ah...!!"
"Don't move. Water first. Take it easy, rest."
A sound like placing a solid object on a wooden desk echoed, followed by an unfamiliar woman's voice. It was so mesmerizing I forgot my tears—it was like jade beads rolling, clear and resonant, yet laced with undeniable maturity and wisdom. Dreamy. Beautiful. I'd never heard anything like it. Who...?
"I've dampened the cloth. I'll put it in your mouth—suck gently. Slowly, slowly. Yes, good."
"......Hup, haa, haa."
"Little by little... yes."
The soft, wet fabric slipped into my open mouth. I coaxed my unresponsive tongue to lap it up. Droplets moistened my parched tongue like irrigation on dry fields—refreshing, cool after so long.
Swish.
"...—Ah."
"No."
My body craved more, but she refused, citing overconsumption risks. The cloth withdrew. Hiiing. Too mean. I hadn't said it aloud, but did it show on my face? For a moment, she seemed to smile.
I opened my eyes to see her—but a sting in one forced it shut again. Ouch. A brief glimpse revealed only darkness. Something covered my eyes—a foreign fabric texture? Rough bandages wrapped around them entirely.
Sounds of her tidying the tools she'd used to give me water. The clinking stopped, and after a few seconds, her question came.
"Feeling better now?"
"......Yes."
"That's a relief. At first glance, I thought you were a corpse."
Her voice was right beside me. Her breath, her scent, her smell—all overwhelmingly intense. I'd thought that blood reek was from me earlier. What is this? Is she even human?
"You looked in dire straits, so I brought you here and... 'treated' you. Can you tell me what happened?"
"......Ah..?"
"If it's too much, you don't have to."
She was being considerate. From what I gathered, she'd found me washed downstream and rescued me. And she didn't know me yet. Doesn't recognize me? Is this some remote backwater? How did she treat me alone?
Curiosity lingered, multiplying. Her tone was polite and warm, the epitome of empathy.
"Ah, I haven't introduced myself."
Clinging to your mouth. Your fingertips. Your clothes, thick and sticky.
"My name is Saelli."
What was that blood smell? And she's a doctor? Or not a murderer?
"I... I'm...?"
I'm intrigued. No real attachments in this world—I could rot as a corpse somewhere or head to the palace to see Anna and Remi. But seeing them now would shatter the statues I'd so carefully sculpted. Can't die yet; you've piqued my interest, Saelli. Ah, I've always thought so, but I'm too kind.
"Ah.... Aah.... I, I'm...!?"
"....What?! Calm down!"
Fine, let's say I died and woke in the next life. No need to overcomplicate. Aris Akaia is dead. That's all.
"I don't... know. Why, why? It hurts... hurts... Tell me. There was something... more precious than anything... hurts... it hurts... help me...."
".....!!"
A sharp intake of breath. She muttered something beside me, but I kept up the act. No need for fake tears—they'd already soaked the cloth over my eyes and dripped to the floor.
"Don't... throw me away... it hurts... I need to know... don't hurt... don't stab... sis—"
"......Ah."
I raised my hand with all my strength, reaching for Saelli beside me. It trembled, touched her— she recoiled violently, toppling what sounded like a chair. Reeking of thick blood like nothing I'd smelled before, yet weak to this. More intriguing by the second.
"Oh no...!!"
"Hel... p... sis—"
Whoosh—something sliced the air toward me. No way to dodge; I took it full force. So gentle, sis.
Thud.
"—ter."
"....How depraved has the outside world become!?"
The impact jolted my body lightly. Struck my neck, huh. Fair enough—for a hysterical kid, knockout's the answer. Oh right, forgot to thank her for the save. Whatever, next time I wake. Goodnight, then.
Consciousness sank back into darkness. Sleep beckoned. Bright sunlight on the receding surface.
Gurgle.
Deeper.
Gurgle.
Deeper still.