“What else would it be?” Karl asked. “Is there something surprising about Cris’s magic?”

It was surprising, as was hearing Karl speak so bluntly. His tone wasn’t just blunt however; it was a smidgen incriminatory, as though he dared me to give an answer he didn’t like. His eyes narrowed in the unnaturally pointed light.

“That would be like forgetting how to speak,” Cris said. “And not even your case of amnesia is that bad, is it Syco?” I caught her giving me what might have been a slight nod.

“I don’t even know this person,” Karl continued. “We were above ground, and now we’re trapped in some freakish dungeon. That kind of thing doesn’t just happen by its own accord. It seems to me that this girl has caught us up in something—and why would she be surprised to see light magic, if not to feign that she cannot use magic herself?!”

“Hold on,” said Varus. “Jumping to conclusions is the worst mistake you can make in dangerous territory. We don’t know that we’re trapped in here. I don’t know why we didn’t realize the path we took, but if we just backtrack—“

“Varus, there was not even a hint of light before Cris made hers. What kind of misfortunate lapse of coherence would let us all simply walk in here without noticing in any case? Clearly something with intelligence has schemed this,” Karl said, pointing his gaze at me. I regretted my lack of thought. With so many things I don’t understand about this world, it’s only a matter of time before I would arouse suspicion. In a world without peace, even the slightest incoherence could conjure up a visage of nefariousness.

I wasn’t even sure of that basis in the first place—was I a nefarious being?

The one thing I knew for sure was that, when I pictured that young noble face in my mind, of the Goddess that reached out her hand to me—the tears in her eyes had held no trace of hatred or regret. The humble desire to see a smile on that face was a trifling little hope that had punctured me as I took in that scenery.

At least Cris, for whatever reason, did not seem to hold any suspicion towards me. I turned to Karl and said “I understand, but…” I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t even know that such things as this were in the realm of possibility.

“I think it is best that we hear a bit more about you, miss,” Varus said, his grin still there, albeit barely. “No offence, of course, but…”

“First off, I’m the one who asked Syco to join me today. She didn’t even know of this place until we arrived,” Cris sighed. “More importantly, I’m not the only one who knows what the poppies of the poppy cellar are, surely?”

At the sudden reversal of questions, Varus avoided Cris’s eyes, and Karl said sheepishly, “I only know that they can be used as a harmful drug. I still have no interest in flora, I’m not afraid to say.”

“I know, so I won’t ramble,” Cris said, taking on a tutorly cadence. “Poppies are similar to roses, only they spread like weeds in environments like… this.” She moved her arm in an arc, highlighting the red growths all around them, all wet with dew and grime. She then stood and plucked one from the wall, leaving only a thick green stem behind. “In the centre of their petals is a small capsule of liquid. This liquid is the drug, and, incredible…”

“What is it? Don’t tell me you want to taste it for yourself now,” Karl said impatiently.

“No,” Cris’s expression turned somewhat grave. “It’s just that this capsule is so much larger than what I saw in the book I read.”

“U-Um, Cris?” I said. The stem that Cris had picked the poppy from was thick and hollow, and now, there was a fine pink mist emanating from within as the vine in that spot gradually drooped and lost its colour.

“Karl!” Varus shouted. Karl didn’t need further instruction. Cris grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back against the other wall, just as Karl raised his right arm, adjusted to a steady stance, and breathed out. In an instant, a curtain of liquid flame shot out from his palm and painted the entire wall, floor to ceiling, in flickering yellow fire. Intense heat suddenly filled the air, and it became difficult to even breathe. Cris pulled on my arm again, urging me to retreat with the others.

“Cris, are we in danger? What was that?” Varus asked as the burning began to cease.

Cris didn’t seem too concerned. “As I was saying, the poppies, or rather the liquid in their core, is a drug. It’s not exactly dangerous… it’s a hallucinogenic.”

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Cris let silence reign, waiting for the others to piece together the implication she was creating.

“That means, it causes hallucinations?” I asked.

“Yes. I think they must be the cause of what is happening to us.”

Varus and Karl nodded readily at this explanation. They seemed to have a deep trust in Cris’s intuition and knowledge. I couldn’t help but admire her calm demeanour amidst all this.

“So presumably the pink mist is a form of the same substance… The vines somehow produce or collect it, and then the sprouts coalesce it into a more easily consumable form,” Karl pondered.

“So you have listened to me!” Cris said happily. “He always makes a show of ignoring me, but look at how much he knows about plants, isn’t that strange, hehe!” Cris said this to me, as though she were showing off a successful pet project. Karl just looked away and scratched his head.

“Just like trees and apples,” Varus nodded in acceptance. “But none of us ate or drank anything suspicious. At least, I did not.” Everybody else consented with this.

“Which means that we must have ingested it another way,” Cris said. “We’ve already seen it in the form of mist, and this level of growth is unusual, to say the least.” She thought for a moment, eyes closed. “If this mist built up and emerged from the cellar, then simply by walking around the area—“

“We already breathed it in?” Varus said in shock. “As soon as we arrived?”

“Who knows how far it could have spread,” Karl said. All four of them looked at each other, unsure whether they should speak of the most terrifying possibility. That, ever since they left the village, they had been under the spell of the hallucinogenic.

“Wait,” I said. “Let’s concede that our senses have been completely overrun by the poppies. However, these are just flowers.”

“Technically not flow—no, doesn’t matter, sorry,” Cris said.

“My mistake,” I acknowledged, feeling a bit bad for Cris who was trying to hold back talking about what seemed to be her hobby. “Point is, plants don’t have minds. They can’t trick people in such an intricate way… right?”

The others didn’t respond right away. No, it was more than that.

It was happening again…

Varus and Karl, standing side by side, simply stared upwards and to the side, peering through the stonework at the corner of the ceiling and the wall. Their gazes showed that their minds were, at this moment, focused on an utterly different place. Whether that place was somewhere concrete or somewhere abstract, I couldn’t guess.

It took me a few seconds to notice that Cris, however, was perfectly normal. She still looked at me, as if expecting me to say something. My face must have shown confoundment because she switched her gaze to the two men, and then straightened up as she noticed their affliction.

Cris looked at me seriously. “Syco, quick note. Magic is as natural as breathing. Keep it in mind.”

“O-Okay…” I mumbled. And then Varus and Karl were suddenly back to their previous behaviour, as though nothing had happened, and no time had passed.

“Then, point is…?” Karl asked.

“You didn’t finish your sentence,” Varus grinned.

“Right… Plants don’t have minds. So they can’t trick us.” I had no recourse but to go along with the conversation for now.

Cris grunted with agreement. “That’s absolutely right. Trees grow fruit because they know that birds and animals will eat the fruit and spread the seeds inside. Spiders build webs because they know that insects will fly into them and become trapped. But do these creatures truly ‘know’ what they are doing; do they know why they have these behaviours? They don’t. They’re simply doing what has worked for their species over thousands and thousands of years. Trees have never suddenly poisoned the consumers of their fruit, forcing creatures to come back for more and more. Trees cannot devise anything of the sort.” She sighed, and she shivered slightly as she did.

“This isn’t possible by chance. There’s something wrong here.”