Why Lie? III

Silora's fears proved to be misplaced; she had more serious concerns to deal with. And finally, her body began to react to the delayed effects of the severe wounds she had suffered in the sea.

"I can’t do this," Silora said desperately as she looked at the assassin, who observed her with interest. "We can try something else. This can’t be the only solution."

"[Probably not]," the assassin spoke calmly, and Silora heard the same words through her mental link to the consciousness that resembled her mother. "[But this is how things have turned out, and I can’t maintain this body for much longer. You need to do what you have to, quickly.]"

Taking a step back, Silora placed her left hand on the bleeding wound in her abdomen. It wasn’t the only injury, but it was the largest and most dangerous. She didn’t want to face this now, but what other choice did she have?

She lifted her head again to meet the assassin’s eyes. Somehow, the consciousness resembling her mother had taken control of the assassin’s body.

"How?" Silora asked heavily. The pain had reached her head, making it feel heavy. She ran a hand through her hair and, unsurprisingly, found that her head, including her face, was covered in fresh blood.

"[I’ve been here for a long time, and I’ve learned how to force my unwelcome presence]," the consciousness said, speaking both in her mind and through the mouth of the assassin's corpse. "[Granted, I’ve never forced myself into a defense mechanism this developed before.]"

Silora said nothing. All of this was beyond her comprehension, and it seemed there would never be enough time to learn more. Yet, Silora couldn’t simply erase the presence of someone who had helped her, not like this.

"[Erase is a bit extreme]," the consciousness interrupted her thoughts. "[Though I will disappear, I won’t die in the real world. I’ll simply be relying on you completely, which I’m entirely fine with.]"

"What about the help you said you would provide? You said it would be easier if we did it together," Silora argued, struggling to stand. Her body was heavier than she could bear any longer.

The assassin smiled gently, in a different manner. "[I did say that, and I meant it. But circumstances change. To be honest, I wouldn’t have survived what I did below. I used my existence to create a balanced flaw, which is extremely costly in my current state. To begin with, there wasn’t much of me left in the book to survive long enough to see you escape this world. So, there isn’t much difference.]" The consciousness explained indifferently.

In Silora’s silence, the consciousness continued. "[I was going to disappear after... what I did. But I got a better opportunity to make things easier for you, and I took it. This is the best outcome for you—take it and don’t think too much about it.]"

Silora remained silent, mostly because she felt that if she spoke, she would vomit or worse. Besides the bleeding, her stomach continued to make strange noises. But she managed to whisper, "What happens now... after I get rid of the defense mechanism?"

"[You will finally be free]," the consciousness said, without any physical movement from the assassin’s controlled body.

Silora stared at the assassin’s eyes for a moment, expressionless. She lowered her head slightly and smiled sadly despite her growing pain.

Once more, she looked directly into the assassin’s eyes and asked quietly, with a chilling calm, "Why lie?" Silora paused, observing the assassin's expression. "I’ll answer that for you—you’re not me."

The assassin’s body finally moved, its motions mechanical and rough. At the same time, the consciousness spoke in Silora’s mind, without the assassin’s voice, [What do you mean? I didn’t lie to you; you just don’t know the full story. And why would I lie just because I’m not you or whatever that means? Be rational and do your task. I can’t maintain this stalemate much longer.]

"Then I’ll be quick," Silora said indifferently, having already gotten her answer.

With a deep, blood-filled breath, Silora began her explanation. "I’ll start with your own words. Every word you’ve spoken since our first contact has shown your lack of confidence in me, despite saying otherwise. You wanted to stay and handle things with your own hands because you didn’t trust me. You found a better way to communicate with me to control me. You wanted to stay to witness the end you didn’t believe I could reach. But this isn’t the end, as you want me to believe; it’s only the beginning. That’s the real reason you’ve been lying all along, and it makes sense if I weren’t the one being deceived."

The consciousness tried to interrupt, but Silora cut off the mental link from her side and allowed herself to speak freely. "Not so fast; I’m not done yet. Now, I’ll tell you how I figured it out. Again, I’ll start with your own words. You said that the farther I got from the center of my prison—the farm, in my case—I would face obstacles along the way. ‘Obstacles’ in plural, not ‘obstacle’ in singular. And the assassin is an obstacle, according to you. I don’t know if it’s the first obstacle, but you thought it was. Why do I say this? Because in the chamber of rooms, you seemed unsure about the assassin when he didn’t respond to the spell from your book. You described him as highly developed, contrary to your expectations. I say that you hadn’t encountered anything like this in your previous attempts, which is why you had such a strong reaction. – – And from there, you started to convince me that the assassin was the final obstacle, contrary to all your previous words. Maybe even you believed that. But despite everything, despite the inconsistency in your words, I still wanted to believe you and listened to your arguments. Because you held the most important thing—knowledge..."

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Silora was interrupted by the spoken words of the consciousness through the assassin’s corpse. Although she had severed the mental link, she couldn’t do the same for spoken words. "I’ll stop your delusions of grandeur here. You’re only accusing me because you discovered something I forgot to explain. I’m just a faint consciousness, unable to perfectly craft my words to meet your standards. But fine, I’ll humor you since you’re so interested in wasting time. – – You’re right. According to my prior knowledge, the assassin is the first obstacle. He wasn’t supposed to be this developed. Anything on par with the assassin I faced for you would normally be the final obstacle. The mind spell didn’t work because the assassin himself showed his imperfection before you and your presence. Something like this is a flaw the world wouldn’t let you see or maintain awareness of, except in rare cases like when you're close to the exit or facing the final obstacle..."

Silora laughed loudly, unable to suppress her laughter despite her body’s protests. "You’re not very smart, are you?" She looked directly into the assassin’s eyes, not knowing what she was searching for but expressing her thoughts. "And I’m the fool who thought my new ability to see flaws, like you claimed the world wouldn’t allow me to witness, was only a result of what you did and took pride in, after I died from the wooden stake that pierced my neck. And of course, You forgot about that because you’re just a faint consciousness. I’ll give you a better excuse: you can say that I just didn’t understand the outcome of your actions with my small mind, then throw in some big, fancy words, and maybe I’ll believe you... Go on, try."

Of course, it didn’t try. And so, silence reigned for a while. Silora felt like her head was about to explode, but she was determined to see how deep the consciousness’s lies ran. Although she had uncovered much, her lack of knowledge about her situation left her at a disadvantage.

"And you dare to take the form of my mother, you wretched liar," Silora accused softly.

She adjusted her stance, organizing herself despite the bloody mess. She took a step closer to the silent assassin. "What I don’t understand is why you treat me the way you treat yourself. You praised my intelligence compared to yours, but you didn’t really mean it. It was more like praising yourself. At the same time, you see me as less competent, less intelligent, as if I’m beneath you. What is this contradiction?... Is it jealousy?"

Silora waited, but no answer came. She looked down at the bloodied wooden floor she stood on, soaked with her own blood. Her hand, which had been covering the wound, collapsed weakly. Silora could no longer bear to stand any longer than she already had. But she wanted an answer to at least one question. "I’m not getting out of here anytime soon, am I?"

"So what," the assassin finally spoke with unusual coldness. "If you want to reach your family, you’ll try to escape, you’ll try for all of us."

"But why lie? I would have tried, and I still will. You helped me, so why not do it honestly... - - This goes deeper than just your lack of trust in me, doesn’t it? There’s something I don’t know. You lied because you wanted to keep me in the dark... I assume you’ll keep silent even if I ask you kindly now!" Silora expressed in desperation.

In moments, the assassin's expression softened slightly, but he returned to seriousness with a calm smile. "It's good that you understand your mission. Now do it; I can't hold on any longer than I already have."

Silora raised her good hand with difficulty, as if battling gravity. She revealed the silver dagger from the folds of her long skirt. She took a long look at its beautiful details. For the first time, the dagger carried a meaning different from what Silora had intended for it. She drew it from its silver sheath and gazed at its cold form reflecting the moonlight.

She also looked at her reflection on the surface of the dagger; she appeared like a mess. Her disheveled red hair covered half her face. Blood trickled down from the top of her head, staining her snowy white skin. Her red eyes overwhelmed the redness of her blood, but with a hollow, cold feeling to them. For a moment, Silora didn’t recognize herself—she looked completely different.

Not wanting to dive into her emotions, Silora raised her head to meet the assassin's gaze. She approached with limping steps and said with a dark, sad smile, barely able to speak, "I will do it, and you make my task easy."

"Good," the assassin remarked indifferently.

At the same time, Silora plunged the sharp tip of the dagger into the center of the assassin’s chest without any resistance. Without looking directly into his eyes, which reflected the consciousness similar to her mother's, Silora directed her mana into the dagger.

A translucent blue light emanated from the wound. Slowly, the assassin's corpse began to disintegrate from the middle of his chest. Before it completely vanished into the air, Silora reopened the mental link between her and the consciousness.

[Why is she so different... this difference... this... was not supposed to... be...] Before the thought could form, there was nothing left but the dagger, which remained clean and cold as ever.

And Silora was alone again—truly alone. The consciousness's last words didn’t reveal much to her, nor did many of the things she had learned so far.

She stood on the wooden deck of the docked ship, with her broken and bloodied body. For a moment, she gazed at all the incomplete corpses being dragged by the whirlpool’s current in one direction. With a tired sigh, she lifted her head to the moon above.

"What do I really have?" she whispered softly to the false world.

Silora closed her eyes and finally collapsed from her physical and mental wounds into unconsciousness.

End of Arc One

[ I See Red ]