Chapter 9
Displayed on the pedestal was a single thick book.
A small bookstore sign dangled and swayed from the door of the large shop where people came and went.
“Before coming here, there was a book I didn’t finish reading.” Miriam followed Priscilla’s fixed gaze and made a show of knowing about it.
“‘About Wizards’? That’s a famous bestseller!”
From her reaction, it seemed to be a very popular book.
A bestseller—so that’s why someone on the train was reading it too.
For some reason, her excited mood deflated as if doused with cold water.
Why was that? Did the book from the train stick in her memory? Or was it because of the strange wizard who came to mind along with this book?
Priscilla, who had stopped as if entranced, couldn’t pass by the book.
Wizards… Maybe it was because she’d heard so many ghost stories—that weren’t quite ghost stories—since coming to Aran, but it sparked her curiosity even more.
“The person who wrote that book is probably a millionaire by now. They used to be complete mysteries, but when this book came out that exposed everything about them, it sold like hotcakes. Well, it’s not like we’ll ever actually see a wizard anyway. I wouldn’t want to meet one either.”
Miriam said the book was long past its heyday, so it would be a waste to spend money buying it now. There was a copy she’d left unfinished somewhere in the factory, and she’d gladly lend it. She urged them to keep walking.
“You need to buy undergarments and a lantern too. Let’s go.”
Only then did Priscilla move her feet.
It seemed like she’d developed unnecessary interest in a needless book because of that black wizard from across the train aisle, but at least she didn’t have to waste money on it, which was fortunate.
The crystallizations of magical engineering like mechanical dolls may appear complex at first glance, but understanding their operating principles is not impossible—the Padwin family, who holds the patents, has set royalties at affordable rates. This is very gracious indeed.
However, nothing has yet been revealed about the power of wizards who still operate pure magical energy.
It’s impossible to gauge exactly where their limits begin and end.
Some say even disasters like droughts and floods are within their power, while others claim they can do little more than float their bodies in the air.
The author wishes to warn:
Be careful, for if they bare their fangs, death will be difficult to avoid.
Priscilla ended up reading the borrowed book all night long.
It was a night when she could hear someone snoring from the next room.
A small bed that could barely fit one body. Reading by the light of a small lamp on top of it. Not bad. No, it was actually much more fantastic than she’d thought it would be.
The physiological parts she’d already read on the train described wizards exactly like animals, so they didn’t feel frightened.
But as the book progressed, the warnings became more varied.
The warnings about magic that causes mental confusion were particularly bold.
“If you woke up in the morning to discover that you had killed your precious family with your own hands, could you bear it? Rather, death through physical destruction is not painful. Like ants dying en masse without even realizing why they’re dying—it would be over in an instant.”
“There are ways to counter magic that causes delirium. Using specific magical tools.”
“The Padwin family is also graciously providing the manufacturing methods for these.”
Reading these eerie and terrifying warnings, like ghost stories appearing in foggy cities, sometimes sent chills down her spine. Even the white laundry swaying outside the dark window looked bleakly ominous.
Yes, that dark and gloomy feeling like the black wizard’s eyes.
Were all wizards like that?
But if only evil, powerful wizards who regarded people as ants existed as described in the book, then the current era of living alongside them wouldn’t make sense. Just as you couldn’t live in the same city as fierce bears or lions.
Moreover, what she really needed to be careful of might more often be ordinary people just like herself. Disappearing, being murdered, being exploited. Every day when she looked at Arancel’s newspapers, the shocking impact she felt was because of criminal organizations’ actions. The members of criminal groups currently gaining power weren’t wizards but ordinary mine workers, coachmen, and barbers. You could tell from the wanted posters. They were ordinary citizens you’d commonly see.
Priscilla thought of that bumbling wizard who had ridden the train doing things like fare dodging.
She was now almost certain that he just looked scary but was actually nothing special. Learning about all the strange and bizarre magic described in the book made her even more convinced.
In the worst case, even if that man had rummaged through all her memories in that brief moment… even if he knew she was a runaway slave, what would he do with that information?
It would be ridiculous for him to specifically seek out a plantation owner because of one ant-like woman.
Let’s not worry about it unnecessarily!
Priscilla fell asleep with the book lying open on top of her head.
And from the next morning, she suffered from delusions.
“Ma’am, you’re not some kind of illusion, are you?”
Early dawn, before sunrise, the kitchen was already full of people. Breakfast preparations were in full swing.
Priscilla was looking down into a giant pot large enough for a person to fit inside.
She was in a dangerous position, standing on a narrow wooden support under her feet, close to the heated iron pot.
How dangerous was it to hold a long ladle with one hand while stirring the boiling soup?
Priscilla, who was strong enough and had good balance to easily handle cooking soup for dozens of people, was one thing, but if she suddenly started talking nonsense about illusions, that was another story entirely.
Miriam quickly got Priscilla to come down. That’s enough cooking, it’s fine if we eat it a bit thin. Saying that, she scattered sand over the fire pit dug into the ground and put out the fire.
Miriam grabbed the shoulders of the dazed Priscilla and turned her around. Her face, which had been pale and smooth even without much washing, clearly had problems judging by the dark circles under her eyes.
“Did you stay up playing ball with Antonio again?”
Miriam put both hands on her hips, taking the perfect posture for nagging.
The women in charge of meal preparation were busy baking bread in the oven and chopping cabbage. They were getting the same pay, so they couldn’t just look after Priscilla alone. It would be better for the patient to send her back to the dormitory and deduct that day’s wages if she was sick.
“I can give you unpaid leave if you want.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll do my job no matter what happens.” Despite her haggard face, where did she learn such stubbornness that she’d refuse even when offered sick leave?
Miriam asked again.
“Then why are you suddenly bringing up talk about illusions?”
Priscilla read Miriam’s mood.
When a superior is asking for reasons with an angry face, honesty is the best policy.
She honestly shared her thoughts after reading the book. She didn’t leave out her worry that someone might be controlling her.
That’s why she was worried Miriam might be a hallucination.
“You accepted me so easily, and you’re so kind and perfect… I suddenly thought it might not be real.”
Miriam smacked her forehead, saying she shouldn’t have shown her the book.
There were often people who experienced aftereffects from reading ‘About Wizards.’
They would fall into the delusion that someone was controlling them, and most were people with sensitive nerves. There usually weren’t any problems for people who seemed as steady and solid as Priscilla.
Miriam couldn’t understand why Priscilla was worrying about wizards. She should be more afraid of robbers who might break in at any time than such ghost story nonsense. She even tried pinching both of Priscilla’s cheeks, telling her to snap out of it.
“You’re not even a child! It would make more sense to worry about getting struck by lightning in the street! How many years have I lived in Arancel, and you’re making me into a mirage?”
While Priscilla was coming to her senses, the factory workers had gathered in the yard to sit and eat. Would Miriam starve Priscilla? Then can I eat Priscilla’s portion too? Oh my, don’t be so hard on the new girl. They chattered and laughed, using Priscilla’s wizard worries as a side dish for their amusement. To them, it was just an endlessly ridiculous concern.
“If you keep working like this, your left arm will get caught in the machinery and there’ll be big trouble! Are you going to lose your mind being scared of wizards you’ll never even meet?”
In the end, after being scolded all morning, Priscilla could only scrape up and eat a little soup left at the bottom of the pot.
