Ishmael’s eyes seemed to be spinning as he took it all in. Aside from offering an occasional interjection to tell her he was still paying attention, he listened in near silence.
“So...I want to do some digging on my end,” Angeline concluded.
“I see, so that’s what this is about. To think, such experiments...” Ishmael folded his arms and thought for a bit. “I am also aware that Solomon and Vienna fought alongside one another. Putting aside whether it was true or not, the fact was often mentioned in old documents. However, after Solomon disappeared, the demons went out of control and were slain by Vienna’s champion. There aren’t many impartial records of that period of history. I’m sure the Church of Vienna had become rather powerful by then.”
“Huh... Then up to the end, Vienna and Solomon were never hostile to one another?”
“No, they never fought each other, as far as I can tell. Vienna kept quiet when Solomon conquered the continent. It was only after Solomon was gone and his demons were wreaking havoc all across the lands that Vienna granted her power to a hero. Well, that’s what one of the histories said; whether it’s credible or not, I couldn’t say.”
Angeline crossed her arms. Things are getting complicated. Does that mean that Vienna endorsed Solomon’s methods? Or was Solomon simply so strong that Vienna couldn’t go against him? Whichever it was, Angeline was certain this was a story that the church would want to suppress. She was beginning to understand why so many records from that time had been lost.
Angeline flopped down over the table and sighed. “This is difficult stuff. I’m not cut out for this sort of work...”
Ishmael was smiling faintly as he drank some water. “That’s just how history is. Even if there are records, there’s no guarantee that they contain the truth. As long as there is a writer, we will only be able to grasp events from that individual’s perspective. That’s why you need to go through numerous different accounts and put together the fragmented perspectives to get an outline of the whole. Even then, it will still be quite a distortion of the actual events.”
“I guess... But there’s only one truth, isn’t there?”
“Yes, but we perceive that truth through our eyes, our minds, and our hearts. Even if you were to describe what somebody looked like in exacting detail from the front, that doesn’t mean you could necessarily describe them the same way from behind. There may be only one truth, but we can only perceive things from a single viewpoint.”
“If only we could talk to Solomon and Vienna directly...”
“Ha ha ha! If only. That would be an incredible feat.”
Angeline had had a bit too much to drink, and her tongue was feeling leaden. She drank some water and took a deep breath. Meanwhile, Ishmael was rummaging around in his bag, perhaps looking for his wallet. Suddenly, Angeline noticed the apple tree branch from before peeking out from amidst his other things. Angeline’s heart skipped a beat. She remembered the jolt that had raced through her body when she had touched it the last time they met.
Ishmael fished out his wallet, then noticed Angeline’s stillness. “Is something wrong?” he asked curiously.
“That branch... What is it?”
“Branch? Oh, are you talking about this?” Ishmael took it out and placed it on the table. He took another sip of water before going on: “One of my fellow researchers pushed it onto me. Apparently, it’s a replica of a staff used by a magician from ancient days.”
Angeline stared at it long and hard, taking great care not to touch it. It still looked as freshly plucked as before, the leaves not any more withered despite having been crammed into a bag. They looked firm and fresh, and she could make out each individual vein on their surface.
“This is a staff?” Angeline asked, looking at it doubtfully. It was quite different from Miriam’s staff or the staff of any other magician she knew. Those other staves were all longer, with some craftsmanship put into them. She had never seen someone use what looked like a stick plucked straight from a tree.
Ishmael gulped down another mouthful of water and nodded. “The staves of modern magicians are all beautifully crafted and take on the same general form as modern walking canes. However, in ancient times—before the era of Solomon, even—the two items were distinct. On top of walking canes, they additionally carried staves to focus their magic. Many would simply snap a twig off of a tree—the young, fresh branches of old trees were preferable.”
“Are apple trees particularly powerful...?”
“I don’t know if it has anything to do with it being an apple tree or not, but the prevailing theory is that power resides in trees that have lived very long lives. That was an era without most of the formal spell sequences we have today. There was apparently a greater focus placed on the strength of the tools themselves.”
“Hmm...” Angeline cautiously reached out and brushed her fingertips against the branch. She didn’t feel any numbness. Next, she tried grabbing it, but she wasn’t struck by the jolt she had been so wary of. It was like any other new branch and felt smooth to the touch.
“I saw it last time too. I’m surprised it hasn’t withered yet.”
“Yes. My friend carved a spell sequence into it and poured in quite a bit of mana. That’s why the leaves won’t fall off and will stay vibrant for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately, since most of this staff’s power has gone towards maintaining that spell, its capabilities as an aid to spellcasting are... Well, honestly, it’s not very useful,” Ishmael said with a sardonic smile.
Angeline held it up and examined it closely. There was something peculiar about it, and she found herself strangely drawn to this mysterious stick. As she stared at it, it started to look as though the tips of its leaves were swaying in a nonexistent breeze. At the same time, a chiming sound seemed to ring out from somewhere within her. Her body shuddered, yet she didn’t feel anything particularly out of place. After returning the staff to Ishmael, she finished off her wine.
When one of the other patrons left the pub, the open door admitted the cool night air in. It was chilly but comfortable on her wine-warmed body. One by one, more guests left, and the barkeep seemed to be preparing to close up shop. Angeline yawned and rubbed her eyes.
“We should get going...”
“Yes, let’s.”
“But...I’m scared to go to sleep.”
“You said something about nightmares, right?”
“Yeah.” The very thought put a damper on her mood. But she couldn’t loiter in the pub indefinitely.
Ishmael took a moment to consider that. “I have strange dreams from time to time. And sometimes, there are peculiar gaps in my memory. Well, I do tend to lose myself in my work when I get too invested, so I think it’s just fatigue, frankly.”
“Do you think that’s what’s happening to me?”
“I couldn’t say. The point is, nightmares aren’t anything special. You’re not alone, so you don’t have to be too anxious about it.”
“Yeah...”
With that, they both got up to leave together—up to a certain point, they would be going in the same direction. Angeline’s braid swayed in the cool night breeze as they walked along the cobbled path.
“Um, I’ll tell you once we decide when we’re leaving. Tell me where your inn is.”
“Oh, right. I’m staying at the Key and Horse inn. It’s on a street with many businesses that deal with enchanted items and medicines.”
“Got it.”
Angeline racked her brains until she hit on it. Oh, that place. She had been in that area quite often back when she was just starting out as an adventurer. Though she hadn’t actually entered the inn, the wooden key and horse hanging over the door had left an impression on her.
“Take care...”
She parted with Ishmael and followed the path to her room. She was feeling a nice, comfortable buzz from the wine, and strangely, she didn’t feel depressed anymore.
She stopped for a moment to let out a deep breath and gazed up at the sky. It was slightly cloudy out, but that didn’t obscure the twinkling stars as far as the eye could see.
“I’ll be home soon... Wait for me, dad.”