We rushed back through the corridors, following the rope attached to Cris, which shortened as it slackened, giving the effect of looking like it was pulling Cris back to its origin. Even with the rope guiding the way, the composition of the dungeon was muddled and nonsensical. More than once, I was almost left behind when Cris seemingly ran down a non-existent path, where I instinctually hesitated to follow.

“Hold my hand,” Cris said, after I almost lost her again. It would slow us down a tad, but it beat getting lost. They couldn’t be too far away now. Still, I thought again about how impossibly expansive the layout of the floor seemed to be. It was almost certain that we were travelling in circles, or perhaps we had travelled vertically without even realizing it.

Regardless, it was fortunate that the physical reality of the rope remained consistent. We rounded a corner and right in front of us was the library room where we had split off into groups. In its centre, Varus waited. Above him was the hole that they had gone up, and through it came the crackle of raging fire. Even without Cris’s magic, dancing golden light poured down from the hole like a chandelier.

“What happened? Where’s Karl?” Cris asked. Varus nodded over to the side; Karl was sitting with his knees in his arms and his head down against one of the large wooden bookshelves. He seemed to be shaking. Cris grimaced.

“We had no luck. We kept getting turned around. So we decided to begin burning all the vines away. It was going well—even with how wet all the vines are, Karl’s fire spreads well. Now we just have to wait for it to die down.”

With the limited oxygen, the fire couldn’t last for an extended period of time. And since it theoretically wouldn’t be able to spread downstairs, they should be safe. Then again, it wasn’t a sure thing that a staircase didn’t exist… they just hadn’t come across one. But it was too late to worry about that.

“Did Karl get hurt?” I asked Varus. He shook his head, but didn’t expand on it. I looked to Cris, but her eyes were apologetic. It must have been something that they couldn’t easily talk about.

“Let’s hole up here for now,” Cris suggested. “When everything up above is turned to ash, maybe we’ll be able to make our way out of here. If we rip up the vines in this room and throw them outside, then block the doorway with a bookshelf, maybe the air in this room will also clean itself up…”

They were still operating under the assumption that the ‘poppy mist’ was the cause of their peril, but without that theory, they had no good ideas.

“I’ll take care of the vines,” I said. There weren’t a lot in this room, so it was possible to clear them out entirely. Varus would take care of blocking the entrance. Cris went to Karl’s side to talk to him.

It was about an hour later. I was sitting against a wall in the corner of the room; since the fire still raged on the floor above, the room had gotten surprisingly warm. It was possible that Karl’s flames didn’t consume oxygen, since they were magic. Now that I had some time to relax, for lack of a better word, I watched the small red bugs skittering here and there over the floor. Apparently, they were harmless. But they were an absolute reminder that this was the inside of the poppy cellar.

With nothing to do but wait, I started feeling sleepy—surprising, considering the situation, but it must have been dark outside by this point.

“I’m not sure,” said Karl, who had come nearby. He seemed to be feeling better. “But I know that my flames stop when they have nothing left to burn; they’re quite accurate to the real thing in that regard,” he said proudly. “I can produce fire that burns even without fuel for a while, but I chose not to use it. These poppies just take quite some time to burn away, I suppose.”

All four of them were likely feeling anxious in some way or another.

“It might be best to get some sleep,” Cris suggested. “It might help to clear our heads too.”

The other two didn’t object, but when they sat down nearby, Cris tsk-tsked them and furrowed her brows. “Nope, boys can go sleep over there! This is the girls’ corner.”

“Not that I think it matters, but okay…” Karl said, shrugging. Varus grumbled too, but headed off with Karl to a different corner. Cris didn’t seem to be truly annoyed, but it was unusual, as far as I could tell, for the camaraderie-aware girl to object to something minor like that.

We didn’t have anything to sleep on, so I wondered if I’d be able to get comfortable at all on the dusty stone floor. Cris did have a small pack with her, which, after taking off, she offered to me.

“Here, use it as a pillow if you want,” she said.

“Ah, no, it’s alright, you should,” I told her, but I could already tell that Cris wouldn’t budge. She really was a selfless girl. I ended up lying down with my head against the pack to give it a test.

“Hm, it’s pretty soft,” I said. Cris seemed confused, then remembered something. “Oh! Wait a second.”

She asked for the pack back and pulled a smaller bag out of it, and from that, she pulled out a bun. It looked still quite fresh, though it was a bit crushed now. “I totally forgot,” Cris said. “Hmm…”

“So much has happened that I forgot to feel hungry,” I said.

“Me too,” said Cris. “I won’t eat, but you can if you like. I’ll ask the boys too.”

I gladly took one of the buns, after which Cris went over to the others. It must have been baked in the past day or two, and it was mostly plain other than having streaks of a green texture throughout it. I took a bite—it was nice and moist, and had an earthy, grounded flavour that wasn’t as bad as it sounds.

“Neither of them feel like eating either,” Cris sighed when she returned. “Oh well. You can use them as a pillow after all, hehe.”

Cris joked but it was certainly better than nothing. I only ate a little, as we didn’t know how long this meagre food would have to last the four of us… Then I followed along with Cris and lay down to rest. Cris was right next to me, using her arm as a pillow and practically hiding in my shadow. It was decently warm thanks to the flames, even at this distance, but maybe the chill of the floor made Cris want to stick close to me.

“… If you stare at me like that, I’m going to feel even worse about taking the only pillow,” I said to her. She giggled and said “It’s okay, really. It’s my apology for bringing you into this.”

I still couldn’t blame her. I adjusted the pack so that I was just using its edge, which left barely enough room for Cris as well. “Here, we can share.” I tried to convince her to abandon her sad-looking posture.

“Hehe, well okay,” she said, sliding herself closer and putting her face right up against mine. To share the pack-pillow, we had to at least have our noses touching.

“If you don’t like it—“ I began, but Cris didn’t let me finish before saying that it was no problem. She didn’t seem too uncomfortable despite the unsatisfactory bedding. Though, it couldn’t be said that she was relaxed. I noticed that she kept looking over my shoulder, towards Varus and Karl, or at least in their direction.

“Is something wrong?” I asked. Cris turned her eyes to me, and rather than laugh away my concern, she replied quietly. “Nothing’s wrong. But, hmmm…” She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then giggled and said “I don’t know how to say it without sounding like I’m asking you to be my meat shield if anything happens. Hehe.”

“Do you think something might attack us?” I asked. Cris thought seriously again. Then without warning, she put her hand against my chest, exactly where my heart was. With the pressure from her touch, I immediately became conscious of the beat of my heart, which—maybe it was because I was surprised—was acting slightly irregularly. Every few beats, I thought I could feel another quick, weaker beat. I knew that Cris was a doctor—was she about to reveal to me that I have heart disease or something!? However, Cris didn’t seem to be on the same track as me. “I can trust you with a little secret, right?” she asked.

“Y-Yeah, okay. I won’t share anything you don’t want me to.”

Cris had saved my life, so I felt greatly indebted to her, regardless of her own feelings on the matter. She may be stand-offish at times, but her kindness was genuine to me.

“Okay. I haven’t been able to touch another person for… basically as long as I can remember,” she whispered. “I haven’t felt the warmth of someone’s skin like this in so long, let alone the beat of a heart.” She sighed sadly, and withdrew her hand with a start. “Ah, sorry! I’m being a bit weird.”

“No… it’s okay,” I reassured her, but she was too considerate to put her hand back. Still, she continued talking. “Can you guess what happened? I’ve known Varus all my life, you know. He was always wild and crazy, but even when we played games as a kid, he was always careful not to hit me or be rough with me, since I’m a girl.” Cris sniffled. “My parents barely gave me physical affection—ah, I don’t mean to complain about my life, hehe. Point is, I always thought I hated touch, but it’s more like nobody ever tried to touch me. And then, there was one time when…” She sighed. “I hope you won’t dislike me for talking about someone behind their back.”

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“Hm. Only if it’s me you talk about,” I said honestly. The candid response made Cris laugh. “Okay, I promise I won’t talk about you when you’re not around. Let’s just say, that ‘someone’ became a bit interested in me, and then one day, he suddenly tried holding my hand as we played around outside of town.”

“… Did you hate it?” I asked, completely unaware of where this was going.

“No, it was different, but I thought that it meant that finally, somebody didn’t find me to be just a bother, or something. We held hands for a few minutes, but then, things got… really weird.” Cris’s voice got even quieter, and I had to focus on listening even though her face was right next to mine. “That person, he got really irritable. His hand started sweating like crazy, and then… he stared off into the distance. That was routine, but, when he came back, he suddenly snatched his hand away and… he tried to kill me.”

“… W-Why? Why would that happen?” I asked.

Cris shrugged slightly. “I still don’t know. I had to run for my life. It was like he had been replaced with a monster that lived for nothing but to rip me apart. I hid all day. I later heard that he got in big trouble for pacing around the village with an axe in his hands, acting like a madman.” Cris sighed, sounding both frustrated and afraid as she finished. “The next day, my dad went to check on him. He was back to normal. When I saw him again, it was awkward, and I avoided him for a while. But eventually I kinda forgot about that day…”

“I can’t imagine that it’s easily forgotten,” I said.

“Hehe, no, you’re right. At the very least, he has tried to his utmost since then to avoid any physical contact with me. But I also wonder, some of the memories I have of when I was even younger… I don’t think that was the first time such a thing had happened to me… I don’t know. Uhm. Creepy story, I know…”

I tried to parse the meaning of Cris’s story. What had come over that ‘someone’? It came across as a typical legend or folklore tale, about a possessive spirit or attack by a demon. But this was something that had just happened one day, before being forgotten about. No moral to the story, and no conclusion.

“Hehe, sorry for the weird story,” Cris said, but despite her smile, I could tell that recounting the story had left her shaken. It also concerned me that she would tell me something that was close to her heart like this. I couldn’t complain… I felt glad to learn more about Cris. But—it was strange to think this, but I could barely accept the idea of trusting myself. It felt like I should admonish anyone that trusted me and warn them about being naive. Cris was clearly a strong girl, though, so to share this with me… maybe it was something she could no longer easily keep to herself.

One thing I decided to take away from this moment was that, to repay Cris for her care, it was necessary for me to care for her at least as much.

“Thanks for telling me… um…” I said, unsure of why I was thanking her.

“Hehehe, I hope it was a good bedtime story,” Cris giggled.

If being a ‘meat shield’ for Cris meant simply that I act as a barrier for her around other people, then it wasn’t a big ask at all.

“You didn’t mind grabbing my hand earlier though, did you?” I asked Cris.

“Well, I already touched you a lot when you were unconscious,” she laughed. “But I understand what you mean. It doesn’t count so much when you’re unconscious. Still… my instincts told me that you wouldn’t do anything scary. Anyway, sometimes I think that, maybe I deserve… no, nevermind.”

She clearly had a lot on her mind. I thought about what to say for a moment, then told Cris “Okay, got it. I’ll do what I can to be a meat shield for you.”

“Hehe, I don’t know about that wording after all.”

“In any case, it means you don’t want to be woken up by someone touching you unexpectedly, right?”

“Y-Yeah, my parents stopped shaking me awake in the mornings because it would make me… upset for a while, let’s say.”

I hoped that Cris wouldn’t be angry at me for my solution. I couldn’t cover her in a blanket, but by wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close to me, and resting my hand on her head, maybe it could at least help her to feel more secure. I’m sure she trusted Varus and Karl, but that didn’t mean that sleeping in the same area as other people was something she could be comfortable with.

“W-What is this…” Cris said, slightly shocked. But she didn’t complain or resist.

“Try and get some sleep now,” I said to her, to which she made an obedient sound. I felt her relax her body as she rested her head in against my collar.

The fire continued to rage.

An hour passed…

The two men seemed to be asleep, and Cris was sound asleep in my arms too. However, I was unable to sleep. Every time I felt close to drifting off, something jolted me awake; first it was what sounded like a footstep. Then, a ghoulish moan in the distance. Another time, I thought I felt a vine-like tendril wrap around my ankle. I was impatient to leap up and take a walk to refresh myself, but I didn’t want to wake Cris up from her sleep.

I remembered that I still had the book that Cris had handed to me, so with nothing better to do, I took it out from my pocket and unfolded it while being careful not to bother Cris. My arm was stuck under her, so I tried to read the book over her shoulder. Earlier, they had only looked at a few pages, as they had quickly happened upon the information that they needed. But it was a thin book, so I could probably read it cover-to-cover and still have time to sleep.

I opened to the first page. The finely scrawled print that I had seen within earlier, and that I expected to see here, was absent. Instead, the page was an absolute mess. It was covered in ink with chaotic form. I figured that the author must have spilled ink on this page, but that wasn’t it. The ink had grooves and gaps that proved that this had been done deliberately and stroke-by-stroke.

I turned to the second page. It was much the same. A few shapes that looked like they could be symbols or even writing stood out, but nothing was comprehensible.

I turned to the third page. I recalled this being one of the pages that they had inspected earlier… but it was utterly different. In bold, messy writing, a single word repeated itself in rows over every spare inch of the paper. That word was the one I had asked Cris about earlier, the one that had been carved into the wall. It was probably pronounced “machina”, but its meaning was unclear.

The fourth page, and the fifth, and the sixth—they were all the same. It made no sense. The book didn’t have many pages; they had absolutely looked at these pages earlier. But where there had previously been details of the poppy cellar, now there was only madness. The repeated word became messier and more hurriedly written with each iteration. The seventh and eighth pages were similar, but some instances of the word were replaced with strange, sharp shapes. The final page had another word, just once; I couldn’t parse this word either, but it wasn’t the “machina” one from before.

My mind returned its focus to the real world. Cris was still breathing softly into my chest. The fire was still flickering, though it was dimmer than before. The book dropped from my hands—ah, my hands were shaking.

Again, a footstep? This time, I got the dreadful impression that the footstep… was directly behind me. Amongst the shadows flickering wildly on the wall, was one of them out of place? I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t understand. The stones in the wall jumped about… but I was shocked still, and couldn’t turn around. I didn’t want to wake Cris into this, especially after hearing about her trauma. I very slowly… craned my neck around… trying to avoid any sudden movements. At any second, something I didn’t want to see might enter my vision. I was almost on my back, and my neck strained as I darted my eyes across the room, which was just coming into view.

Everything seemed different to before. But there was nobody there. The room felt enclosed and I could feel a draft that hadn’t been there earlier, but we were still alone, the four of us.

Great. I figured that the effect of the poppies was wearing on me, especially since I was fatigued. I returned back to my normal position and concentrated on Cris’s warmth as weariness returned to me. I soon managed to fall asleep.