The inn was eerily quiet when they returned, making it clear that word of what had transpired that night had already begun to spread.
The innkeeper, Wendy, was nowhere to be seen, and the barkeep, who would usually pour drinks till the sun came up, had abandoned his station. The regulars were long gone, and half-empty cups littered the messy bar.
"We'll just help ourselves then and leave payment on the table," said Stephan, grabbing a bottle of whisky and glass from behind the bar counter. "What do you guys want? Drinks are on me."
"I'll have a whisky," said Sorin.
"And I'll have the finest wine the house has to offer," said Lawrence, picking a bottle from the shelf and popping the cork."
"I'll have a beer," said Gareth.
"Really? You're drinking? Wine for me," said Daphne. "Not the bad stuff Lawrence picked out."
"Ivy Coast is a fine vintage, thank you very much," said Lawrence. "I picked it out because, unlike other wines, it's meant to be appreciated unpaired. Also, they somehow got their hands on a valuable year. This is going to be good!" "Are you all not concerned that they might try poisoning us?" asked Astley, who'd taken a seat at a large table. "They seem pretty upset, given how quickly they cleared out."
They all exchanged a look, then burst out laughing. "No need to worry about that," said Stephan. "With Sorin on our team, they'd need to have a three-star poison on hand to have a chance at killing us. Don't worry; he was a physician before they revoked his license."
"You just keep trying to force that joke," muttered Sorin, accepting a glass of whiskey and pounding it back. "But yes, I was once a physician, and yes, I can likely treat most poisons. There's none in this glass, by the way, except good ole fashioned alcohol."
"Then pour me a glass," said Astley. I could use a drink, given how terrible things are currently going."
Stephan obliged, and for a while, they simply sat down and sipped while sizing each other up.
Astley was a beautiful woman with curly red hair that she kept tied up in a loose bun. Her dress wasn't made for field work, though it was clean and clearly enchanted.
While Astley wasn't from a great family, she was from an affluent background. She had the mannerisms of someone who'd received a formal education but came off as pretentious to Sorin. She wasn't in the habit of being at a disadvantage and was trying too hard to cover up her distress at recent developments.
"Did something happen when you returned to your room?" asked Gareth. "You've been on edge since you came back down."
"Have?" said Astley with a shrug. "I found my things neatly packed up and my bed made. I believe that means they want me gone and that I'll have to rough it in the foreseeable future." She took out a long object from her hero medallion that Sorin recognized as a cigarette holder. "Do you gentlemen mind?"
"You know those things cause mutations, right?" said Daphne, nodding to the cigarette she lit up on the stick-like holder. "It's been scientifically proven, and there are loads of studies supporting an outright banning of such narcotics."
Astley ignored Daphne and lit up a cigarette before taking a long puff. For a bone-forging cultivator and a one-star hero, she is on the younger end of things. Probably only two or three years older than them at most.
"We only live once," Astley finally said to Daphne. "And besides, these things are the fashion in Delphi, along with slim ball gowns and high heels. Even high-ranking mages smoke from time to time. I therefore doubt that any attempts to impose a ban will manage to pull through. How's that for logic, young lady?"
"Let's not get back into circular arguments," said Stephan. "You're also not much older than we are, Astley, so don't get ahead of yourself."
"I just defended myself against your teammate's aggression," said Astley. "Now, where were we? You said you had questions for me, archer? And do you have official mission papers I can review?"
"Of course," said Stephan, taking out the stamped papers from Jigolath Ridge. "I take it everything is in order?"
"It is," said Astley. "Ask your questions."
"Please call me Gareth, Miss Chaser," said Gareth, taking out his notebook. "Perhaps you can start by introducing yourself and briefing me on this order my companions spoke of?"
"Astley Chaser," said Astley. "From Chesterville, a large city roughly two weeks north of here. My parents are Geoffrey and Noella Chaser. I am a graduate of the Chesterville College of Art and Literature, which I attended in lieu of traditional career shadowing between the ages of 13 and 17.
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"As for the order Miss Philips mentioned, it's a somewhat reclusive organization called the Order of Phantasia. We are a scholarly order that seeks to discover ancient truths by investigating historical vestiges. We use ritualistic magics to cross-examine key historical witnesses and build a more reliable historical account."
Gareth raised an eyebrow. "Can someone translate for me?"
"They're archaeologists and grave robbers," said Daphne. "As for the ritual magic she speaks of, it's mostly esoteric forms of divination and spirit channeling."
"And by spirit channeling, you mean..." said Gareth.
"I summon the soul of the deceased from the River Styx," answered Astley. "I ask them questions until the ritual runs its course."
"That's… sort of creepy," said Lawrence.
"Says the one who peeps on ladies in his spare time," said Sorin. "Pardon me for interjecting, Miss Chaser, but I sensed a great deal of corruption in that book of yours. But when I examine you, I sense no such traces of corruption. Could you please explain this?"
"I was also wondering about this," said Gareth. "It might be a good idea to get it out of the way before we continue with a different line of questioning."
"This old thing?" said Astley, taking the book in question out of her belt pouch. "This is my grimoire. The order offers many paths to their members many would see as non-conventional. My path is that of the Myth Binder, which functions in similar ways to summoners. Instead of striking bargains with extradimensional entities, I bind creatures I've defeated to my grimoire and use them in battle until they eventually succumb.
"In the rare cases, I can also feed it records of mythical entities, or better yet, face them in battle. By producing an image of these myths, I can bind them to my grimoire and make use of them in various ways. Does that answer your question, Gareth?"
"It does," said Gareth. "Is there any risk of these creatures breaking free?"
"There is no risk at all," said Astley. "They are bound to my grimoire, which is in turn bound to my soul. Should I perish in battle, any bound entities, be they in their summoned forms or bound forms, will lose their link to this world and will quickly fade from existence."
"Does that align with what you two know?" asked Gareth. Both nodded their heads in confirmation. "Very good. That leads us to my next question. What have you been doing here? How long have you been here? What do you hope to accomplish?"
"I've been here for around a month," said Astley. "In that time, I've mostly looked through history books and taken notes about local traditions. I've also investigated the remains of old buildings; the scope of my investigation includes the extensive cave network in the Chelsea Mines.
"I'm sure you've heard of bright flashes of light people have seen coming out of abandoned mine shafts. Those lights are given off by certain investigation rituals I've been carrying out. As for what I hope to accomplish here, it's simple: I'm looking for source material to support a few papers I intend to write in collaboration with my supervisor at the College."
"The topic?" asked Gareth.
"Pandora's Historical Amnesia and Culture Dissonance," answered Astley. "We'll be approaching the subject from an anthropological perspective. We'll evaluate the cultures in isolated locations and compare them to the more homogeneous human settlements, such as Olympia, the Twelve Cities, and any other locations with major temples to Hope."
Daphne groaned. "Great. You're one of those."
Astley took a long puff from her cigarette before responding. "I find your prejudice both hurtful and childish, Miss Philips. Though I suppose I can't expect any better, given your cultural conditioning."
"Once again, let's tone things down," said Stephan. "I'm talking to you, Daphne. And for the rest of us, can you please translate what you said into non-academic terms."
"A non-academic explanation…" muttered Astley. "Alright, let me put it this way. You are all aware of the ancient gods, yes?"
"Naturally," said Stephan.
"And you are all aware that their temples have a certain flare, a certain architecture," continued Astley. "The language used in those temples is different than the language we use now. The names used at the time are also very different than our current naming conventions."
"I don't follow you, but go on," said Stephan.
Astley sighed as she tried to rephrase things. Her actions reminded Sorin of how an adult might behave when trying to explain common sense to a child. "Cultures don't change quickly, Mr. York," said Astley. "They are also very dependent on geography. This has been noted time and time again. Yet the major human settlements on Pandora seem to all share the same culture, the same language, and the same naming conventions, despite the fact that these locations used to have their own distinct cultures and traditions during the time of the gods."
"That's because the gods are dead, obviously," said Daphne. "With the powers that maintained social order at the time gone, humanity changed. The many civil wars after the fall of the gods resulted in a homogenous culture. The subject's been studied to death."
"No, it's been ignored to death," countered Astley. "And my supervisor and I are convinced that there is a more logical answer for this abrupt transition, as well as the huge lack of historical documents from the Divine Era."
"Libraries were burnt down!" exclaimed Daphne.
"But was it accidental or on purpose?" Astley shot back.
"I think we've gone completely off-topic," said Gareth, finally closing his notebook. "But you gave me what I asked for. You're a scholar, and you're here to investigate. The culture here is strange, and that's why you're here. Is that correct?"
"Indeed," said Astley.
"Then that concludes my interrogation," said Gareth. "Reciprocation is polite. Do you have any questions for us?"
"Not really," said Astley. "Though I imagine you'll all be staying for the Winter Vigil? It's the last thing I wanted to see before leaving."
"That's our intention," said Gareth. "Though the more I talk to people, the less this seems like corruption is behind this. These people seem like they've been hoodwinked for generations."
"Worship of the Dark Lady first appeared in this area sixty-three years ago," said Astley in agreement. "You can find confirmation in the library in a book called Chelsea: A History. There are also a few elders in the village that remember when it all started. I can give you a copy of their interview transcript if you like."
Gareth raised an eyebrow. "That's awfully generous of you."
"Think of it as an offer to cooperate," said Astley. "It's clear that I'm no longer welcome here, so I'll need support if I'm to witness the Winter Vigil."
Gareth exchanged a look with Stephan, who nodded. "We can discuss the details tomorrow. I'm sure having someone with your unique skillset around will be a benefit." He ignored Daphne's snort and held out his hand. "To a fruitful collaboration."