Worn tattered clothes. Shoulders drooping helplessly. And a shadowed face.
The two appeared to be the epitome of those who had endured the harshness of this desolate world.
“Um.....”
The face of the woman who entered first looked to be in her fifties.
Wrinkles, layered with the passage of time and hardship, spread like a net, and her dry skin bore the marks of labor without care for a long time.
What stood out particularly were her hands. Thick and rough at the joints, and beneath her short-cut nails were stains of something she had not been able to wipe off. With those hands, the woman fidgeted with her clothing, unable to hide her anxious demeanor.
Her slightly bulging eyes continuously scanned the unfamiliar space.
The caution characteristic of someone attuned to observing others. The image of an ordinary person who had lived their life at a low position, always aware of the gazes of others, condensed into that brief moment.
She stood at the door, writhing in anxiety, unsure whether to step inside or go back out.
At that moment, the man who had brought them here abruptly said, “What are you standing there for? Just sit down, will you?”
Only then did the woman flinch and pull her daughter’s arm to encourage her.
Like someone who hesitated even to breathe without permission, she hurried towards the chair across from him, which he had pointed to with a gesture.
Perched halfway on the torn sofa, the woman firmly sat her daughter beside her.
Then, glancing around once more, she finally managed to speak in a trembling voice.
“Um, um....”
It was unclear how many times she had quivered her lips before starting to speak.
“Really...”
Her voice sounded younger than her appearance. Perhaps the hard life made her look much older than she actually was.
“Really, if I believe in Lord Radiance... can any illness be cured?”
In her questioning gaze, a mix of desperation and fear trembled faintly.
Though her appearance was ragged and her face weary, she did not seem to be suffering from a serious illness at that moment.
Then the problem was perhaps with the girl sitting beside her like a doll.
“.......”
The child appeared to be a middle schooler.
Slightly on the thin side, but with delicate features and a pretty smile.
Yet one could sense a subtle discrepancy.
'Her gaze...'
The child’s eyes were fixed on an empty space in front of her.
Though they were clear and large, they seemed as hollow and blurred as a glass bead that could not capture light.
She merely held her mother’s rough hand tightly with her small hands. Perhaps out of anxiety, or as if it was her only refuge, the girl did not let go of her mother’s hand.
It seemed as if she was relying solely on that warmth amidst the darkness that filled the world.
"......."
As I quietly observed the scene, I instinctively closed my eyes tightly.
It was an age when God was dead.
A society formed by common sense and reason.
In such a world, those who had been swayed by the sweet words of cults were...
Were they simply foolish? Were they so utterly ignorant that they had no answers?
Perhaps it was because they were that desperate.
Having found no corner to rely on.
Pushed to the very end of the wall of reality.
At the end of reaching a point where they could not see even an inch ahead, what loomed before them was ultimately a rotting lifeline that they had no choice but to grasp.
===============
“Ah, hello? I am... um, I run a small hair salon near 13th Street to make a living. My name is Karen.”
The woman paused for a moment and lightly wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulder.
“And this is my daughter, Sophia.”
As soon as her mother finished speaking, the child mechanically bowed her head to greet.
However, the girl’s eyes were still roaming somewhere in the void, unable to focus.
As she watched her daughter, a momentary look of sorrow and disappointment flashed across the woman’s face. But she soon gathered herself and began rummaging through her bag as if to divert the conversation.
Pulling something out, the woman treasured it and unfolded it carefully.
It was a painting drawn on somewhat worn paper.
A watercolor depicting a blue sky, green fields, and the skyline of a distant city, delicately illustrated. Even an art novice could tell it was quite a well-crafted piece.
“This is a picture drawn by our Sophia.”
A bright smile blossomed on the woman’s exhausted face as she spoke those words. It was not a fabricated smile; it was a genuine smile filled with pure pride and joy for her daughter’s talent.
“Isn’t it beautiful? I’ve heard she has had a special talent for drawing since she was little. The adults in the neighborhood and everyone at school said she was extraordinary.”
The woman continued to speak in a proud tone, unable to tear her eyes away from the painting.
Her voice grew more animated.
“No wonder, two years ago, she unexpectedly won the grand prize in a large art competition held by the education office, and she was selected as a special scholarship student at the city’s art school!”
Omega Detroit City Art School.
It was a place that every child dreaming of becoming an artist in this city aspired to; a truly star-level institution.
Not only could one receive the best art education, but it was said that once graduated, success was almost guaranteed. The significant value of paintings sold at high prices in the galleries at the top of those tall buildings was a testament to the school’s graduates.
As she recounted this, the woman inadvertently straightened her shoulders. Though her life had never moved beyond this dim alley, the hope that her daughter could step into a brilliant light was everything for her.
“To be honest... I’ve always felt indebted to this child. Raising her in this destitute back alley, I have never properly fed or clothed her since she was little. Yet, my kind-hearted Sophia has never once complained about it being hard or that she doesn’t like it. Isn’t she truly a good daughter?”
A mixture of guilt and affection swept across her face.
“I’ve never sent her to an academy, yet she’s been drawing in her sketchbook by herself since she was young. And now... she has bloomed her own talent. As a mother, I’m truly, truly proud of my daughter.”
She gently stroked her daughter’s head. Her touch was filled with a deep love that couldn’t be traded for anything in the world.
“I have never been unhappy for even a moment since I met this child. No matter how long I work and come home exhausted, just seeing Sophia's face wipes away all my fatigue. She is the greatest gift of my life.”
However, as she reached that part of her story, her expression abruptly darkened.
“But....”
After a moment of hesitation, she finally spoke.
“She has glaucoma.”
Glaucoma. A condition where the optic nerve is gradually and chronically damaged due to increased intraocular pressure, leading to visual field loss. And, after the optic nerve is damaged even once, it is nearly impossible to regenerate in contemporary medical technology.
As she spoke of this, tears shimmered in the corners of her eyes.
“Our Sophia... is so used to bearing pain that she didn’t tell me immediately when her vision started to fail. She didn’t want me to worry... she’s just too kind…”
Her voice trembled as it burst forth, as if she was finally releasing the tears she had held back.
Thick teardrops flowed down her rough cheeks.
“If I had known just a little earlier... if I had cared just a little more for my child...! If I hadn’t stayed out late working, thinking I would save up for her tuition by earning even a little more... if I hadn’t made excuses about being tired and had just come home to ask her about her day and looked my child in the eyes properly....!”
Upon her sobbing shoulder, Sophia’s small hand gently rested.
The child, without saying a word, simply offered warmth to comfort her mother’s sadness. Perhaps feeling even more miserable that her blind daughter was comforting her, the mother couldn’t continue speaking and bowed her head for a moment.
“I was so foolish... not knowing what truly matters, thinking that just earning money was enough.”
After some time passed, she barely collected her feelings and opened her mouth again.
“In fact, if I were to exhaust all the money I have saved up... I hear it would barely cover the cost of the prosthetic eye surgery.”
An artificial eye. A product of advanced technology meant to replace lost vision. Perhaps it could even replace her original eye with one that had much greater performance.
But her expression was not bright.
“Yes, if she undergoes the surgery for the prosthetic, she would be able to see again. However... she could never be an artist again.”
She struggled to explain further.
What the current art world sought.
The goals of artists have always changed with the times.
In the distant past, the measure of an artist’s skill was how realistically they could depict their subjects. However, the invention of the camera, which could perfectly capture scenes from reality, turned every paradigm on its head.
No matter how hard one tried, there was no way to express details more finely than a machine, so the value of artists gradually shifted to expressing abstract concepts that are invisible.
Yet even that realm began to be gradually surpassed by advancing artificial intelligence. The interpretation and expression of human artists were evolving to a level of completion that was on par or even greater than their own.
As a result, the current art world has finally begun to focus on 'humanity' itself, rather than technique.
In other words, the unique imperfections of humans that machines can never imitate.
The expression that encapsulates senses, emotions, and inner and outer reflections that only pure humans can perceive has become the highest artistic value recognized.
“So, at the best prestigious art schools like the city art school... they don’t accept those with prosthetics. No matter how much talent one has, it is useless. Only children who are perfectly ‘human’ can cross that threshold.”
That was where the invisible barrier of class began, Karen said.
The doors of art schools are open to any talented individuals, but in reality, most of the admitted students were from the upper class.
Because families in the lower districts were often exposed to contaminated environments and poor food, damaging their health. It was common to replace organs, be they internal or limbs, with artificial ones. That was all there was to it.
In the end, one’s fate was predetermined from the moment of birth.
Climbing the social ladder in this gigantic city was almost impossible.
“But... still, parents dream. They hope that their children... will live a better life than they did. The desire to show my precious child a brighter world is only natural.”
Karen’s gaze returned to her daughter. That look held a fervent wish.
“Our Sophia... will surely become a wonderful artist. Not someone who lives in this back alley like me, scraping by with odd jobs day by day. An artist who creates works that wealthy people living in the high-rise buildings above would truly admire. I hope that... she can live a life free from envy.”
At last, Karen leaned forward as if to rise from her seat. Her hands were earnestly clasped together.
“So, Radiance... if we believe in Lord Radiance... can our daughter really have her eyesight restored? If so, I earnestly ask for it. I will give you everything I have.”
Karen, with trembling hands, pulled out a credit card from her worn bag and extended it.
On the small display screen of the card, the savings she had accumulated bit by bit while working tirelessly over the past few years appeared in tiny writing.
Daily deposits of 10 credits, 20 credits.
Numbers that proved her hard labor and hope for her daughter.
The crystallization of efforts that could serve as her daughter's tuition and possibly fund the surgery for the prosthetic eye.
With all of this extended, the mother deeply bowed her head towards the floor.
“This is all I have. It is my only wish. If you ask me to live the rest of my life as a servant of the church, I will gladly do so. I will do whatever hard work is asked of me. So please...”
The woman spoke almost as if begging.
“This child... please, save this child. Please......”
Only that desperate prayer floated through the heavy silence in the room.">
