The Distant Trail Of Ciara Badvia

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

COULDN’T EVEN SEE HIM OFF

Morning arrived.

Tyril had cried herself to sleep last night with the blanket pulled right over her head.

Well never came to visit her in her room, and she didn’t feel like getting up on her own, didn’t want him to see her swollen, probably bloodshot eyes, didn’t know what face to show him with the emotions in her heart. But still, for him to depart without even a single word…

It was cold, heartless, and frustrating.

Tyril clenched her right hand and dug her nails into the sheets. Showing anger toward Well didn’t bring her any satisfaction; rather, she just felt empty. But even if she did stop acting stubborn and saw him off with a smile, the pain wouldn’t just disappear. Besides, it was already too late. She had faintly heard the sound of a door closing, and that was surely the sound of Well leaving.

She closed her eyes, not bothering to search for his figure from the window.

After a while, she heard a knock on the door. Is that Well…?

“Tyril? Are you awake?” A gentle and warm voice came from outside.

It’s not him. Of course not. But I already knew that, didn’t I?

“I’m coming in for a moment, all right?”

Before Tyril could respond, Rosa opened the door. She stuck out her head from under the blankets and greeted Rosa, who put up her hair in an odd style and was wearing a wrinkled blouse and skirt. It was unusual for someone who cared about her appearance; she must have been busy with Well’s departure and he probably left without even noticing Rosa’s bed hair.

Well is such an ungrateful child. Tyril puffed out her cheeks and cursed his childhood friend in her mind.

After Rosa entered the room and closed the door, she slowly sat down at the edge of Tyril’s bed and gently placed a palm on her head. “Well already left.”

Tyril nodded slightly, her cheeks still puffed out.

“Are you okay?” Rosa’s gentle voice didn’t waver.

“No way,” Tyril murmured. “I can’t help it. There’s nothing I can do…”

“Why?”

“Why…?” Tyril looked up at Rosa. Her eyes, which gazed at Tyril, held the usual softness in them, like pale moonlight.

“If you’re concerned about me, then it’s misplaced.”

Tyril didn’t answer.

“I don’t know what you think, but I consider you my true daughter. So, I want you to follow the path you desire.” Rosa smiled warmly. “Daughters are allowed to be a little selfish with their mothers.”

True to her word, Rosa was giving her guidance, and her words reached Tyril. It isn’t too late, was what her eyes said—but that course was different from what Tyril wanted. Her desired outcome was already well beyond her reach.*

“I’m not like Well…” were the words that slipped out of her mouth.

“I see…” Rosa replied, lowering her gaze. “Do you have any regrets?”

“I already do. I just don’t know where I took a different path…” she muttered.

Tyril pulled the blanket over her head again. She wondered whether Rosa saw her as a lump of white gelatin or the head of a snowman, curled up like this. Though knowing her, she might just give an uninteresting answer, like “a bundle of blankets.” That was a Rosa-like thing to say.

In their younger days, Well would probably call her a pork bun. He had no tact.

What would the Well today say? Somehow, Tyril couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t even imagine how much he would change by the time he returned, be it next year or the year after. Well was Well—that was how she saw things and felt reassured by it, but she didn’t see that he was changing. It was frustrating to realize that.

“I understand.” Rosa nodded slowly as she stood up. “You must be struggling in your own way. My thoughts and yours may be a little different. But still, I want you to walk the path you want, and not just for Well. That’s why, if you’re having a hard time worrying about it, come talk to me anytime. I am your mother, after all.”

Parting with those kind words, Rosa moved away from the bed and creaked open the door with quiet steps, about to leave the room.

Tyril, still curled up inside the blanket, whispered quietly. “Thank you…”

There was a chuckle. “You’re welcome,” Rosa replied, softly closing the door. She left the room just as she had come in, with barely a sound.

Now Tyril was alone again.

In the end, her heart wasn’t satisfied with anything.

Above all, she couldn’t come to terms with her own feelings, which brought indescribable pain. She felt guilt whenever she thought about Well, and the weight made her feel like she was being crushed by the blanket.

She squirmed out of it, reached into her desk drawer, and rummaged inside. Her hand soon landed on a small white bundle tied with a red ribbon. Inside it was a blue bandana: Well’s birthday present that was due in a few days.

It was no longer needed. As she stared at the bundle, Tyril let out a small, deep sigh.

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* I think she means to say that Well’s life wasn’t for her, that she has missed her chance to follow him a long time ago. Something along that line.

Edited on November 6, 2023.

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