The Seeds of Truth
Farming. The act of sowing crop seeds or seedlings into the soil, then harvesting the fruits that grow there. It's counted among the most grueling labors, boasting an ancient history, yet surprisingly, plenty of people enjoy it—love it, even. No need to look far; count me among them.
The reason why... well, there are as many as there are people, but the one that resonates most? Probably that the rewards match your effort. The soil doesn't lie, they say. Though that sky up high occasionally dumps lies too cruel to swallow—torrential downpours, floods, typhoons, droughts, and the like.
Anyway, today too, the farmers set out before the stars vanish beyond the horizon and the sun shows its face. Always at that unyielding hour. They till the fields, yank weeds, pack the earth firm. Rustle—they scatter seeds without restraint. Even if those seeds never sprout, or wither the moment they bloom, turning to fertilizer for other plants without ever bearing fruit... I follow suit today, sowing in silence.
And at last—did the heavens heed the devotion in my prayers? From the seeds I'd planted, tender green cotyledons began pushing up. Stealthily, inch by inch. Crunch—shells cracking open.
This one's Anna. This one's Remi. And this—
Ellie. I decided to call that plant 'Ellie,' after her pet name.
One month ago. The day I—Saelli, or Ellie unnie—planted those seeds.
After realizing I'd lost my memories and putting on a show of hysterics, only to get subdued by Ellie and wake up in a bedroom on her bed... I started spilling fragments amid her worry. If your head hurts or your heart aches, you don't have to force it, something like that? Her words, prioritizing my body over my memories, nearly brought real tears to my eyes. Sniffle, sniffle. Not that it was all an act from the start.
'Aris Akaia' had to die. There was no reason for her to live. So I, of all people, decided to kill her myself.
I claimed I'd forgotten everything. Ten years of memories, a happy past, precious family, even my own name—gone. Like sea foam crashing against unyielding rocks, dissolving away. Whoosh—nearly swept clean. All but one thing.
"Anna..."
"...Anna? Is that your name?"
To Ellie unnie's question about my name, all I could murmur were those two syllables: Anna. Anna Akaia. My sister, who lashed out at me—the root of her inferiority complex—to escape it. By now, she'd be toiling endlessly, a lifetime of futile effort, atoning for killing her misguided little sister.
"...No... no...!!"
"...!!"
"It's me...! I'm the one calling that name... Who? Who is it? Aaah...!!"
"...Calm down! Breathe. Deep breaths. In—"
I clutched my chest, tears streaming. Drip, drip—soaking the bandages. Later, Ellie thought I'd panicked again and nearly knocked me out; while I thrashed, she forced me back onto the bed. The jolt sent prickling shocks through my whole body—I screamed. She just kept apologizing helplessly.
Oh, how delightful it was, hearing her flustered voice. Heehee.
According to her—Saelli's account—I'd been found downstream in the river. Sure, the river served as a natural border, winding through countries if you followed it far enough... but limits exist. Given my condition, I couldn't have drifted long. A few dozen kilometers at most? Any farther, and I'd be fish food by now.
So this was inside Tesilia Kingdom. Stretch the range all you like; it was still 'nearby.'
The name 'Anna,' my noble-like appearance. With her kind heart toward a child like me, she'd spare no effort digging into my past. And her diligence would soon uncover it: the horrific history of me, 'Aris Akaia.'
A child found on the brink of death. Savagely assaulted by some fiend—who knew what horrors—but her body was a ragged mess, too traumatized to even recall the ordeal. And the only thing she remembered? Two syllables, presumed to be a family name.
"Anna... Anna..."
"......"
The child chanted it daily like a mantra, singing of how she longed to see her. Even mumbling it in her sleep. But the gods are cruel.
The truth Ellie unearthed? The sister she'd yearned for was the perpetrator of that atrocity. A jealous wreck who stabbed her baby sister out of envy for her talent and shoved her off a cliff. An act so monstrous, it beggars belief that warm blood coursed through her veins like any human's.
Heehee. Haha. Hahaha.
Would Ellie tell me that brutal truth? Or betray the child's hopes with a white lie? They call it that—kind deceptions, like a doctor promising recovery to a terminally ill patient, filling them with false hope. Some deem it noble. But a lie's a lie. The liar must bear the guilt.
I'm curious. What choice will you make, unnie?
Pick one.
Life is an endless chain of choices; no one escapes the wheel. She hoped it wouldn't come, but the moment found her anyway.
Ta-da.
After an unusually stimulating 'disinfection' session—harsher than before—I sensed something off in how Ellie treated me.
Hmm?
I'd known she felt some inexplicable guilt toward me before, but today it was intense. If before was drip coffee, now it was Starbucks?
"...Unnie...?"
"........."
Tap, tap. She shuffled into the kitchen on her cane. I called out, but no reply. The old her would've answered in seconds; now, she seemed oblivious.
I crept up, arms wide, and hugged her tight. Squeeze. Her unique, fishy scent assaulted my senses. I can't smell flowers or food right, but blood? Crystal clear. Weird.
Poke. I prodded her back. "Ellie unnie...?"
"...Ah!"
She'd always sensed me sneaking up, even at full tilt. For someone with senses like that to miss me hobbling close on a cane until I hugged her...
Startled, she spoke in a sluggish tone. Heehee. No poker for you later, unnie—you'd lose everything. I can tell from your voice alone.
"...Sorry. My mistake."
"Huh...? What...?"
"...Nothing. Yes. Let's eat."
Her voice cracked more than usual, responses delayed, dazed. A child who adored her would notice. You've figured it out, haven't you, unnie? So have I.
Was that why today's 'disinfection' hurt extra? Sensing her oddness, I eased into my seat anyway. The cushy chair welcomed me.
"...Here. I tried something different today."
"........."
"...Don't you like it?"
The spoon swirled idly, scraping the bowl with a scraaaape—shrill. As always, thin soup suited to my state, but more volume, chunks too. She must think I'm recovering well.
Clink. I left the spoon untouched for ages.
"........."
"........."
Silence blanketed the kitchen. I felt her gaze heavy on me. Did she think the new food repulsed me? Or that the painful treatment left me too drained to eat?
Well, I did crave something else. I spoke.
"Ellie unnie..."
"...Yes? What's wrong?"
Her voice trembled faintly—subtle, controlled. But those who feign composure often rot inside. She's probably listing her 'sins,' spiraling into delusions of harm.
But what I'd say was bigger than that. A bomb, say.
Slowly, softly: Gulp—I heard her swallow.
"Unnie... did you find Anna?"
"...!"
The air froze.
Time to choose, Ellie unnie. What will it be—?
A reality of pure despair. No such thing as hope—just illusion. Either way, six of one, half a dozen of the other.
Take your time. Re~ally stew on it.