The Distant Trail Of Ciara Badvia

Prologue: In the Depths of the Lily Mountains
Part 2: Shopping in the Town of Lily

STRONG AND UNYIELDING

“When are you leaving…?”

That, at least, Tyril managed to ask.

“With what I just bought, everything’s ready. I’m thinking of going tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” She could have handled being alerted of a forest fire just before falling asleep much more calmly. “That’s so sudden! Why—”

“It’s not. I told you I’ve been saving up the money to buy that knife. I’ve been thinking about going for years, and I’ve been preparing bit by bit.”

“But… But still, why…?”

“It was wrong of me to not talk to you about it. I always wanted to, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And even if I did, I thought you were just going to be down until the day I left, so I decided to just tell you at the last moment.”

“T-That’s…”

Tyril didn’t want someone to think of her that way, but Well was probably right. Even if she did hear about this a week ago, she’d still be just as shocked, and she’d remain that way for the rest of the week. She wouldn’t know whether to feel angry, sad, or lonely. It was likely Well would end up leaving without properly seeing her, too.

But even so, she couldn’t accept being treated this way. Going on a long, life-threatening journey and keeping it from her until the day before he left—there was no way she wouldn’t be angry.

At last, Tyril averted her eyes from Well. She looked down, shoulders trembling and fists clenched on her knees, desperately holding back various emotions.

“I’ll be back soon. I won’t keep you waiting for five or six years like my uncle. Just wait with my mother back at the house.”

Though she was looking down, Tyril knew Well’s gaze was fixed on her. It was painful. Eventually, realizing that she couldn’t bear to be in front of him any longer, she suddenly moved and reached into her skirt’s pocket.

“Tyril?”

What she took out was a wallet. Spreading out all its contents on the table, she mustered every ounce of composure she had left and smiled at Well.

“You’ll need money if you’re going on a journey, right? It’s alright. This meal’s on me, so take this.”

“Er… But Tyril—”

“Sorry. I, um, I’m heading home first.”

As soon as she said that, Tyril stood up and grabbed her own bag, hurriedly turning her back to Well.

“Ah, hey, Tyril!”

There was no way she could have heard the voice trying to stop her. With the last of her composure exhausted, all she wanted now was to get away from the restaurant, from Well, without letting him notice her overflowing tears.

“Thank you for your patronage…”

The hostess, sensing the uneasy atmosphere, bid Tyril farewell as she fled the restaurant. Tyril rushed out of the shop and out of the town without turning back, making a beeline for her home.

*****

Under the vast and strikingly blue sky, Tyril ran toward the mountain path that led from the town of Lily to her house, holding back her tears.

She had to stop even though the town was still in sight behind her. But not for lack of physical strength—sprinting from the main street of the town and then to the mountain with heavy baggage had pushed her breath to its limits.

And so, huffing, puffing, and smiling bitterly, Tyril started mocking herself.

What am I doing…? Why did I run away like that? It’s not my fault. I should be angry at Well.

She quietly squatted down, tightly hugging the shopping bag filled with wild vegetables and rabbit meat. It occurred to her then that some of the money she had brought was used during shopping. Even though she said the meal was on her and forced the money on Well, it probably wasn’t enough.

Tyril chuckled and derided herself again. “… I’m such a loser.”

She wondered what Well would think of her now—and the dam broke. Finally, she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer; her sobs began quietly, then gradually turned into a loud wail. Her cries seemed like they could leap across one or two mountains and echo all over the world.

When was the last time she cried so loudly? Oh, right. Back when her father left for his journey. She probably cried just as loudly then as she did now.

What is wrong with me? Am I going to end up crying like this every time someone leaves me? I promised myself I’d become stronger—strong enough to not worry Auntie Rosa, Well, my father, or anyone else.

She hadn’t grown at all, even after five years. Well asking her to wait a while was enough to paralyze her due to sheer loneliness.

It’s so painful, being left behind…

Tyril continued to berate herself for what seemed like forever. Her tears wouldn’t stop, and getting back on her feet seemed impossible.

*****

Dinner that night turned out to be rabbit stew, Rosa’s specialty. Or at least, it should have been—it tasted differently.

In the end, after Tyril returned home, she locked herself in her room, lying face down on the bed and soaking her pillow with tears. She didn’t know when Well returned or what kind of face he made while eating that stew.

She knew only one thing: tomorrow, Well would be gone.

The hollow reality of that fact was all she could think of.

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Edited on November 6, 2013.

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