“Mom! I thought you’d be here. Where’s our snacks?”
The children playing in the Flower’s Cradle’s garden came back inside as a cheerful voice called out to her.
“Just wait a little longer, I’ll get them ready now,” Tess replied with a smile.
She felt compelled to offer a prayer of thanks. The children here had never known a time when being able to prepare treats for them like this was beyond dreaming of. There was no telling what the next year would be like. There were rumors in the royal capital—well, the metropolis now—of a great political uprising. There was still no progress towards a working treatment for the poison which filled the land. More and more often, it consumed Agartha’s children.
Tess prayed once more. She prayed that these peaceful days could somehow continue. There were many people she prayed to: those who departed on their journey ahead of her. Would she be permitted to join their ranks soon? Lately, she felt like she was aging faster than before.
Crestfolk were not gifted with equally long lives. Their resistance to the world’s poison varied, and when they reached their limit, they died of old age. Tess was approaching her limit, apparently. She didn’t fear her own death at all. Instead, her thoughts drifted to the past more and more. Perhaps that was what it meant to grow old.
On that fateful day, nobody came back from the palace. She had no time to grieve. The days which followed were too chaotic for it. Nevertheless, people still had children. While it was beyond her to do the same, she chose the path of saving the children of others.
She was the one to found the Flower’s Cradle. In the wake of the sterilization campaigns, there were many who wanted children but couldn’t have any. With public order in Agartha lost, the country was thick with unwanted, abandoned children. Many of them were born with bloodmark disease. Prejudice against the mark-bearers never went away. Even when the child was wanted, there were many commoner parents who died of old age shortly after having a child, leaving the baby behind. Organizations to help raise them had collapsed. Tess created the Flower’s Cradle to act in their stead.
It wasn’t an easy path. The days went by slowly and arduously, like digging a ditch with the only arm she had to spare. There were far more hardships than happy memories. After the initial upheaval came a period of brutal convulsions. They still weren’t over. Blood continued to flow, drawing an unbroken red line through the flow of time. Perhaps that was simply the way of things.
Regardless, Tess tried to fix her thoughts on the good times. She had memories of many smiling children. Many survived, and upon reaching an age where they could work, they left for villages all over Agartha. That was the purpose of the Cradle. Nobody knew this place had once been called the Forbidden Garden.
Tess’ favorite place here was the courtyard. There was a glass ceiling overhead. On a sunny day, warm light shone through it. At night, the moonlight gently poured down from above. Nowadays, nobody knew how to create such a glass ceiling. It came from a time of antiquity. The hole in the ceiling remained as it was.
Tess looked up at the hole. Everyone in the Cradle knew it was a habit of hers. She’d never told anyone why she liked it so much. Tess was the only person in the world who knew why the hole was there. The heroic tales sung in public didn’t include the story of the hero breaking through the ceiling and tumbling into the courtyard, after all. The hero in the story gallantly came through the door to save the princess.
“Mom! Come on!”
“Yes, yes, I’m coming.”
Tess looked up at the hole once more. She made a pledge to her own heart. She vowed to the dead once more, just as she had a countless number of times before. She held her left hand out toward the hole in the ceiling... toward the sky.
Her aging fingers drew distorted lines. It was proof of the days she survived. She was proud of this. Would the day come when they would grip this hand of hers? Until then, she would keep living her own life. Just as they had.
Tess’ weakened heart pumped blood through her veins, sending her prayer through her entire body. With that, she took a single step forward into the uncertain future.