Rin contemplated if skipping Thursday’s afternoon classes to ride on a wobbly old bus was worth it.

She glanced at the time on her phone. Half past two. It was Math period, and she was halfway towards the town of Pallin – a good fifty minutes from Creave. She had thrown her usual black windbreaker over her school uniform, removed her tie, and left her bag in her locker. The only things she carried were some loose change, her phone, and a pair of earphones.

The bus rolled over a pothole, and every one of its loose joints began creaking in unison. Rin closed her eyes as the worn springs of her seat bounced up and down. The roaring engine drowned out the music streaming through her earphones.

The forsaken vehicle finally lurched to a stop, and she got off, thankful that she was finally on still ground. Taking out her earphones, she surveyed her surroundings. Someone had graffitied a giraffe on the walls of the bus stop. Two public phone booths with their glass sprayed stood side by side across the road. One of their doors was hanging on its hinges, victims of vandalism. Rows of shops lined the asphalt streets, with flat roofs, brick walls, and faded signs. Orderly and neat, the town exuded an air of stern history.

The traffic came to a standstill, and the pedestrian lights turned green. She crossed the road and headed straight, past the barber and a restaurant that was out of business. Two minutes later, she arrived at a three-story building that looked as though it had lived for too long and given up. Ivies owned the walls, and weeds littered the entrance. The sign above the main door had paint peeling off, and the words were barely legible.

Rin did not need to check to know that she was at the right place. The entire place reeked of a well-nourished Seed.

She ascended the dimly-lit staircase. Light filtered in through the window high up the walls, illuminating the floating dust particles. The interior fulfilled her expectations – dull corridors, cracked walls, dusty floors. Spiders made homes in corners and abandoned them. Someone’s shower echoed down the corridor.

Another flight of stairs. The moment she reached the topmost step, the gray walls disappeared, replaced by an open space of warmth and sunshine. The sudden brightness hurt her eyes. When she lowered her arm, she was standing on a farm. Raised beds were filled with fresh, green crops. A small farmhouse stood a short distance away. An elderly man was watering the plants, wiping his forehead with a grimy towel draped around his neck.

“Granddad, I’ve gotten most of them!” A girl a few years older than Rin hurried towards the elderly man, carrying a basket of juicy, red tomatoes. “Look, aren’t they lovely?”

“Yes, we got a good harvest this year. I told you we’re blessed by your green fingers,” Granddad said heartily. “The neighbors would be pleased.”

“Aw, Granddad, these are your hard work. Aren’t you sorry to see them go?”

“Sharing is always caring, my lovely granddaughter.” Granddad chuckled.

This place spelled laughter and joy, smelled of earth and life, glowing like a wonderful summer vacation. Beneath it was a heavy sense of longing and sadness, and deeper than that, the hatred that built the very foundation of the land.

Territories like these sickened Rin to the core.

“They are our best produce, and good things should be shared, not kept to ourselves. Nothing makes me happier than seeing people enjoying a bowl of stew made from our hard work.” He caught sight of Rin. “Oh, hello, are you Lyndia’s friend?”

Rin gave her best smile. “Yes, Mr. Reily.”

Lyndia’s smile faded.

“It’s rare for Lyndy to have a friend over,” Granddad said, delighted. He gave the girl a small nudge. “Where are your manners? Bring your friend in. I’ll get the tea boiling.”

Rin felt Lyndia’s stony silence and suspicious eyes following her into the house.

To Granddad, she was Lyndia’s friend. To Lyndia, she was an intruder.

Their home was cozy and humble. The walls were decorated with handmade wreaths. Two wicker chairs sat by the windows overlooking the farm, and the cracks between the lace curtains invited in sun that created rhomboids on the parquet floor. Several photographs sat on the mantlepiece: one of Lyndia when she was a child, one of her and a young couple whose faces were strategically hidden by light reflecting off the surface – presumably her parents, whom she could probably not remember well enough – and the newest one of her and Granddad, both beaming while holding up freshly harvested radishes.

Rin ran her hand over the wooden surface of the table in the corner of the room, wonderfully rough and genuine.

The Seed had to be very well-fed to give its Master such a beautiful Territory.

“Who are you?” Lyndia stood behind her.

Instead of answering the question, Rin gestured at the first two photographs. “Did your Granddad take these?”

Lyndia steeled herself and finally walked over to get a better view. “Yes, he took them. When Mum and Dad passed, he raised me. All these years, single-handedly, on this farm.”

“You didn’t want to move from here.”

“This land was not ours to begin with. The authorities are reclaiming it…” Her eyes narrowed. “How did you know we’re moving? Who are you to begin with?”

“You loved it here,” Rin said, looking at the photographs. Lyndia was either smiling or laughing in each one of them. The girl standing in front of her was an empty husk. Her eyes were bottomless pools of regret and hatred she was drowning herself in. “If you had not moved, then that would not have happened – is what you’re thinking?”

There was a long silence.

“What do you mean?” Lyndia said, almost in a whisper.

“You two would not have had to attempt to make a living in a faraway town. You would not have met him, and your Granddad would not have died.”

She was stating a fact – not eliciting a conversation.

The color drained from Lyndia’s face. “Who are you?”

“The girl who Granddad doted on, where is she? All I see is a pair of eyes crazed for revenge. Is that really what you want?”

She raised her voice. “I said, who are you?”

“Your Granddad would be disappointed if he knew you were harboring the same thing that killed him-”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Shut up!”

Somewhere, an uneasy, slumbering aura stirred.

“That you choose to relieve your memory of him this way-”

“Shut up!” Lyndia closed the distance between them, eyes blazing. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I will never forgive that man. Never! Granddad was always, always, always good and kind to everyone, even to a jerk like him, even if he treated us like garbage beneath his feet.”

When they first met the boss, he looked imposing in a suit and dark glasses. Wealth. Authority. He was from a different world. She could not even look him in the eye – she felt that it would be improper to. He looked at her from top to bottom, lifted her chin so that he could see her face properly, and said in a careless tone, “What a pity, too plain-looking to attend to my guests. I suppose you’ll have to work in the kitchen, then.”

Working at the bistro was hard labor and not the least bit rewarding. She had to wash dozens of cutlery, run errands for the chefs, and get the stocks ready for the next day. Her superiors yelled at her for being slow, when she was trying her hardest to be fast. They shouted at her for mistakes that were not hers. Most of the time, she barely had time for meals.

Granddad’s job as a cleaner and caretaker was worse than hers, being the first to arrive and the last to leave. Her heart ached to see him bending over tables to sweep up peanut shells, cigarette butts, and all sorts of junk uncivilized customers took the liberty of throwing on the floor. The pair of hands were meant to grow crops, not to clean out rubbish, but he always laughed at her woes.

“Our hands are meant to do all kinds of work, to provide for the ones we cherish. It doesn’t matter what it is we are doing, as long as we can make a living. Money is hard to come by, Lyndy. We have food, clothes, and a roof over our heads – we must be grateful.” He chuckled. “If you miss our old home, we can always raise a few potted plants here.”

The Pulse, like all the others, was disorientating and unpleasant.

Lyndy’s face was as dark as thunder. “He killed Granddad and walked free.” Her eyebrows knitted together as tears glinted in her eyes. “He bribed the authorities, and they declared Granddad died because of a cardiac arrest when he was actually murdered.”

A luxury car pulled up in front of her, and the window of the back passenger seat rolled down. He wore a suit that probably cost three months’ rent for the apartment she was staying in, a pair of round sunglasses with golden frame, and held a smoking cigar between his fingers.

“Hey, I heard the old man’s funeral is today. Got money?”

She clenched her fists. He saw it and laughed. “Oh, come on. If you need money, just say it. I am your benefactor, after all.”

He took a check out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I liked him. What a pity. If only he didn’t stick his nose where he shouldn’t. Well, the old man worked hard all his life. I guess it’s time he got proper rest.” He took a drag of the cigarette and puffed out smoke in her face. The check slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground. “Whoops.” He smirked. “Guess you have to pick that up.”

The window rolled up, and the car drove away, leaving her standing on the side of the street. The tears that she struggled hard to contain rolled down her cheeks as black anger filled her heart.

“I swore I would be the one who gives him what he deserves.”

“Tea is ready.” Granddad entered with a tea tray. He hesitated by the door, sensing the tension between them.

“Is – is everything all right?” His eyes darted back and forth between Rin and Lyndia.

Lyndia hastily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and recomposed herself. “It’s fine, Granddad. We’re just talking.”

He blinked at them. “Lyndia grew up with only me and a few old folks as company. She might be a little spoilt, sometimes a little rough-tempered and a little sentimental, but – but she is a good girl. She has a good heart. If she offended you or did something wrong, please do not take it to heart -”

“I understand. Please don’t worry,” Rin said, in her politest voice.

“I – I see.” His expression of uncertainty melted into a laugh. “Carry on, then. Don’t let the old man bother you. After all, we’re moving out the day after tomorrow – might as well make the most of it, hmm?”

Lyndia turned away so that he couldn’t see her eyes glistening. “If I’d known all this earlier, Granddad, we would never have moved.”

He chuckled. “What are you talking about, silly child? Where else are we going to live?”

Before he left, he looked over Lyndia’s shoulder and met Rin’s gaze. With a small, knowing smile, he gave her a small nod.

Rin’s eyes widened.

Just now, what did he do?

The illusion broke, and they were both in a cramped, dim space that was so messy that Cnaris would have thrown a fit if he were there. The laundry basket was overflowing with dirty clothes. Unwashed plates piled in the sink and on the table. Half-eaten snack packets and cup noodles were strewn all over the floor. The bed was buried under another pile of laundry and unfolded blankets. The curtains were drawn, and the poor plants sitting by the windows were wilting due to the lack of sunlight and water. The air was heavy with the stench of sweat, mold, and Seed.

Rin glanced at the photographs on the shelves, the same as the ones in the Territory.

Seeds either grew from its Master’s heart – or cultivated from a cursed Sygn. A Seed that grew purely from its Master’s heart would not give its Master such a bright, blissful Territory. Neither would it grow so quickly.

Lyndia gave her a bitter smile. “Seen enough? Now, get out.” She pointed at the door. “I don’t even care who you are anymore. Just get out.”

“Where did you get it from?”

“Why do I have to tell you?”

“Do you know what the consequences are? The price you’ll have to pay?”

“Price? I don’t care what price. I’d pay with my life.” Lyndia walked towards Rin, her hands clutching her chest. “I don’t want to live with this pain anymore. It hurt so bad that I wanted to rip my heart out. Granddad was my only family, and that beast of a man took him away from me.He admitted that in my face, in front of Granddad’s body, and he said the law would not be able to touch him, that he was invincible. The investigators could not find any proof that it was murder. He gave them money, and they closed the case. I couldn’t accept it. Just because he has money, he’s allowed to do as he wishes? Is this a special privilege for the wealthy? Does the law only serve the rich and leave everyone else to rot on their own?

She took another step closer, her eyes hollow. “Do you know what my biggest regret was? That night, I shouldn’t have listened to Granddad. He told me to leave early. If only I had been there, then maybe it wouldn’t have happened. I’ve thought about it over and over. I thought I was going crazy. I couldn’t do anything until someone granted my wish. This was my only hope. I’d willingly give it everything I had. At least, I could live with Granddad. Even if it’s just an illusion, it’s enough.”

“Is that what you thought?” Rin said quietly.

“Was it not?”

“I don’t know,” Rin said. “Because the dead do not speak.”

Lyndia half-laughed, half-sobbed.

“I do know one thing, though. This is not something your Granddad would want.”

“Get out!” Lyndia’s voice rose to a scream. For the briefest of moment, the room quaked. One of the photographs toppled over, the dirty dishes rattled, and a potted plant fell off the sill with a crash. She held up a jet-black object in the shape of a hilt. “Get out before I set it free!”

Rin grabbed her wrist and hissed, temper rising, “Set it free, then. Because I’m here to destroy it.”

“You’re a Hunter?” Lyndia scoffed. “I should’ve known.”

“You’re just one step away from being its food. Seeds never stop eating. No matter how much you feed them, they are forever hungry. The more you feed them, the hungrier they get, until one day, they eat their own Master. Do you think those blissful illusions of your Granddad are your salvation? They are proof that the Seed is eating your mind. That killer is a servant to richness, and you are the Seed’s puppet. How different are you from him?”

“I don’t care.”

“You are willing to give the life your Granddad painstakingly raised with everything he had to a despicable Seed?” Rin demanded.

“You will never know what it felt like to lose someone you love and be unable to do anything about it!”

The words hit Rin like an iron-clad punch.

His hand, slick with blood, slid from her grasp. In the pouring rain, all that was left was his jacket. However much she refused to believe it happened, the outcome would not change.

Lyndia wrenched her hand free from Rin’s loosened grasp and stormed out the door, leaving her standing in the cluttered space alone.