By way of reply, Angeline threw her arm around Marguerite’s shoulders, grabbed a cheek in each hand, and pulled. “You’re getting too cocky... And why is your skin so smooth?!”
“What are you doing?!” Marguerite tried to cry out, but the words came out garbled. She began pulling on Angeline’s cheeks too. The two of them were still grappling with each other when the barkeep set a fresh bottle of wine down on the counter with a heavy thump.
“No horseplay at the bar.”
“Sorry...”
“My bad, my bad.”
They released one another, but not without sticking out their tongues at each other. The roughhousing had helped distract Angeline a bit. She sipped her wine feeling a little relieved, while Marguerite ordered more spirits.
Marguerite was quite satisfied to see that Angeline had returned to her usual self. “Heh heh... You gotta be like that, or it’s no fun.”
Angeline shoveled a piece of now-cold duck meat into her mouth. “Mmm... Munch munch...” She felt a bit embarrassed to have Marguerite look out for her like that, though she knew she would have tolerated it better had it been Anessa or Miriam.
The pub was getting more crowded, and the dining room was growing loud with clattering tableware and chattering voices. The wind that blew in through the door whenever it opened was not as hot as it had been at the height of summer. It wasn’t long ago that the heat would have been so bad Angeline would have broken into a sweat just by being in a crowded room, but that season had passed. She yawned—the wine was getting to her, but not in a bad way.
“Can I get some flatbread with shredded cheese over it, please?”
“Maggie, how do you still have room for food after drinking so much?”
“Huh? Alcohol doesn’t fill you up, right? How about you? Eat something, it’ll pep you up.” With that, Marguerite picked up a sliver of duck meat and shoved it into Angeline’s mouth.
“Agh!” Angeline chewed and swallowed with the help of some wine. She let out a deep sigh.
“Well, in the end, I guess you’re just tired out from all the work. It stands to reason you’ll be better once we return to Turnera then.”
“Yeah...”
It was as Marguerite said—it wouldn’t be long before Angeline would be on the road home. She would just have to do her best until then. Work (and Solomon) would still command her attention, but for the time being, she felt it would be fine to indulge in some nostalgic musings. Thoughts of Turnera and of Bell calmed her heart better than anything else.
However, she couldn’t shake the awful feeling that she’d be plagued by those strange dreams the moment she fell asleep. I’m not demanding sunshine and rainbows when I sleep, but at the very least, is there some way I can sleep with no dreams at all?
“I should ask Ishmael...”
Hopefully, there was some spell or medicine that would let her sleep peacefully. Miriam had learned magic to become an adventurer, so she wasn’t well-versed in noncombat spells. And for her part, Maria seemed to be occupied with looking into Solomon. Ishmael was likely her best bet.
Another gust of wind blew through the opening door. Several leaves were blown inside, rustling along the floor.
○
The sights before Angeline suddenly became distinct. She blinked her eyes and shook her head. Am I dreaming, or is this reality?
She was outside in some dark place—it seemed to be night. The street was lined with crumbling wood buildings and ramshackle wooden huts. It seemed like the slums.
But these were not familiar sights to her. Black mud was splattered all over everything she could see, and heavy dark clouds in the sky deposited a fine rain almost indistinguishable from mist. The heavy, depressing atmosphere weighed down upon her.
Angeline looked down at her hands. They were the same as always; her palms were callused from holding her sword, and her fingers, though slender, were hard and rugged as well.
The muddy ground was dotted with puddles of water. She could see the ground was littered with broken tree branches and what appeared to be a dog’s corpse that no one had bothered to dispose of. The tepid breeze assaulted her nose with the smell of decay.
Angeline thought she had dozed off in bed only moments before, and yet now she was standing somewhere completely unknown to her. It was quite a strange feeling.
The air was hazy from the misty rain, and that in addition to the darkness made for terrible visibility. Though the wind was tepid, for some reason, it sent a chill through her, and she hugged herself to contain her shivers.
I don’t want to be here... Yet for some reason, Angeline’s legs would not move. She was immobilized, as though her will could no longer be imposed upon her body. Suddenly, there was a loud noise—a building collapsing in a nearby alley, by the sound of it. The sound of falling rubble was distinctive to her even in this mist.
Angeline shuddered, suddenly filled with dread.
Angeline could hear the sound of somebody running through the mud, but just as she thought she saw a shadow begin to emerge through the mist, a flash of light burst forth from behind her.
“Urgh!” The figure fell to the muddy ground—he was a middle-aged man with sodden, white-speckled brown hair clinging to his bony face.
“Agh...” The man’s face twisted in pain as he pressed his hand against his shoulder. Evidently, he had been pierced with magic from behind. His hemp robe was sullied with dirt and blood.
Yet another figure appeared from behind the man.
“Did you really think you were going to get away?” asked the bearded man in a wide-brimmed hat.
Angeline’s eyes widened. Though he looked a little younger than the man she knew, it was unmistakably Kasim.
“W-Wait, please... I’m begging you, let me go! Pretend you didn’t see me! I’ve got a wife and kid waiting for me to come home!” the man desperately pleaded.
Kasim chuckled. “Heh heh heh... Spare me the convenient excuses now. It’s a bit late for that. Not after all the nasty stuff you got up to.”
“But... But I already washed my hands of all that! I won’t cause any trouble for your group, believe me!”
“Now look here—did you ever spare anyone who pleaded for their life like that? Don’t you think it’s a little unfair that you’re the only one who should get special treatment?”
The man looked at Kasim with despair. Kasim laughed as he always did, but there was no mirth in his cold, sharp eyes—the same eyes he’d had when she’d met him at the archduke’s estate.
You can’t, Mr. Kasim! Angeline wanted to say, but no words came from her moving lips. She tried to run, but her legs would not move.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
A beam of light shot from Kasim’s fingertip the second the man had tried to move. It pierced the man’s leg, eliciting pained cries that echoed through the alley.
“Grahhh...”
“You’re no match for me. Now if you’ll be a good boy and come along, I won’t have to kill you.”