This Clueless Hero

My breathing was ragged.

It was loud and continuous, especially on such a quiet day. My lungs worked overtime, but they ached. It was as though I was walking in the middle of a desert, searching for an oasis.

My vision was blurry.

The color appeared to merge together, almost like a watercolor painting. If I didn't know better, I might've thought my body was traveling to another dimension.

My body was covered in sweat.

Even just moving my head would fling a couple droplets of sweat onto the grass, almost like I was getting ahead of myself and watering the ground. My clothes stuck to me, they were sticky and wet.

My knees buckled.

Standing for so long made my legs want to give way. They dangerously stumbled, just a step away from giving way and collapsing. It was as though my feet weren't actually on flat ground, but a ship rocking in the violent seas.

My abs were sore.

I had forgotten they were even a muscle for a moment. It was only when it felt as though my abdomen was tearing apart, did I remember. It was almost like I had neglected something. Then it came back to bite me.

My arms were trembling.

Time and time again, they would pull up the gardening hoe before slamming it down once more. Each time, they were strained to the limits, to the point where it felt like my tendons were going to snap.

My palms tore open, splattering blood on the handle of the gardening hoe.

In the end, the only thing left was my soft flesh. Pain stung like a bee. It might've been my imagination, but it felt like the dirt was slipping into my bloodstream from my wound. It was as though I voluntarily accepted to be poisoned.

My fingers twitched uncontrollably.

Some of my fingers directly locked up, wrapped around the handle without my command. Some of them spasmed violently, sometimes touching the handle and sometimes reaching out into the air. It was as though they were captives being tortured that were screaming their souls out. 

My body was on the verge of collapsing.

But I still rose the gardening hoe before slamming it back into the ground. Each time, the swing was powerful while the following dragging was stubborn. Using so much strength nearly brought me over the brink, but I knew if I was any weaker, it wouldn't be done properly.

In the end, I would have to restart.

If I was going to do this, I had to do it right the first time.

I did not pay attention to how far I'd come, nor did I check how far I needed to go. My vision was too blurry to see anyway, but I wasn't going to stop and check now.

The sweat falling down my face reached my lips, nearly choking me every time I took in a ragged breath.

My mind was slowly becoming muddled, while my body continued on like a machine. The sun that grazed the ground with its gentle rays seemed sadistic to me, trying to roast me alive.

I was faking it until I made it. Pretending I had the capability at the cost of my body.

My head heated up like I had a fever, while my mind felt like it was being torn apart. Yet, I didn't bother to stop.

The pain kept getting stronger, the consequences of my stubborn progression.

Suddenly, I felt something in my mind snap.

My body fell to the ground as if it was thrown down. My limbs convulsed wildly, covering myself in dirt. My eyelids shot all the way open while my pupils dilated. My heart raced while breathing became difficult.

I involuntarily bit my tongue, causing blood to spill out.

My consciousness became foggy, and it was hard to tell how much time passed. At some point, I slowly regained myself.

When it stopped, the only thing I could feel was nausea. My body seemed to be heavily damaged. My lungs forced in a deep breath.

Then, violent gales of wind whipped around me, and my skin tore apart.

My mind felt like it was splitting apart. My teeth grit, resisting the pain. A bellow came from deep beneath me and seeped past my teeth.

My mind rapidly cast the healing spell.

Near the end, my eyes became bloodshot. Then, when it was finally over, an unbelievably soothing sensation spread throughout my body. It was as though my body went from the pits of hell into the gentle clouds.

A powerful sense of sleepiness overcame me.

I was tired. I wanted to take a break.

Like a viper, those thoughts came for me, trying to bite my neck. But once it lunged at me, I grabbed it by its head, forcing its mouth shut.

My body bounced off the ground. While my hands reached down to pick up the gardening hoe.

And then... I continued.

It was as though swinging the gardening hoe was no longer something I was doing, but a part of nature. It became a simple truth, such as the fact the sun would rise at the start of day and fall at the start of night.

Although my physical wounds healed, the mental strain remained. As such, I ended up blacking out and having seizures more and more frequently. But every time I did, my mind would cast the healing spell to force myself up once more.

The man that made those ink drawings appeared in my mind. His solemn words echoed.

'Working hard means breaking yourself. Then after you're broken, you use your mangled pieces to keep working.'

A faint and pained chuckle came out of my weary body.

I guess I could say that I've been working hard.

The only thing I could rely on was my frail body and this gardening hoe. There was no cure from the pain, nor the loneliness.

It was as though the remedy to me was to continue on, even when it only worsened my illness.

And so, my arms continued to stubbornly pick up the gardening hoe before slamming it down again.

It was the proof to myself that I fought the river of time.

I lifted, slammed down, and dragged.

Again and again and again.

Until... my hands brought up the gardening hoe, only to find that the entire field had been plowed.

My body collapsed onto the ground while the gardening hoe landed next to me. My breathing was still ragged, but it was out of relief more than anything. My heartbeat relaxed, while my eyes slowly closed.

A strong urge to fall asleep overtook me.

But I stayed awake.

The fields were tilled, but that was only the first step.

...At the very least, I wouldn't have to do this again any time soon.

My mind stirred up gusts of winds while my skin tore open. After casting one more healing spell, my body was back up on its feet.

My hand reached to grab the gardening hoe. I made my way back to the small room and put the gardening hoe back where it was before.

For some reason, feeling my hand release the handle made me feel a sense of loneliness. It was only an inanimate object, but it had been there while my body worked and my mind was on the brink of breaking.

After one last look, my eyes shifted to a bag of seeds. I arbitrarily picked one up, only to find it was incredibly heavy. By now, calluses had formed on my palms. If that wasn't the case, the skin would've torn open instead.

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead. This didn't seem like it was going to be easy, either.

After my lungs forced in a deep breath, my hands suddenly tightened. With a heave, the bag of seeds was lifted and my feet brought me outside.

My arms violently trembled under the weight, but brought it out to the field. My hands released, letting the bag of seeds fall with a thump.

My eyes peered into the bag. The seeds were a golden brown color. Their shape was round like an oval, but with sharp ends. They were thin and long, while the texture was rough.

My hand grabbed a handful of them, letting them fall through the gaps of my fingers. Soft pitter patter sounds filled the air as they fell back into the bag.

And so, I took a large handful of seeds before sowing them into the ground one by one, just a few centimeters away from each other.

In all honesty, they didn't look like much. After my hand brushed over the dark brown soil over it, they disappeared as though they never existed in the first place.

But I remembered their existence. They may not be visible, but the memory of planting them lingered in my mind.

As such, when I moved on, I knew I didn't have to sow another seed there again.

They didn't look like much now.

But they didn't have to.