Alice frantically patted her forehead where the beam had struck.
"Query: Now," Stell's voice cut through her panic, "can you recall your uncle's specific address?"
"I told you, I forgot, wait. I remember!" The forgotten memories flooded back into her mind, clear as day. "It's amazing!"
Stell's "Major Memory Restoration Spell" had been a resounding success.
"Reminder: I am now recording the coordinates."
"Okay, okay! I'll tell you! Just don't shoot me again!" Alice rattled off the address, her heart still pounding.
While she spoke, Takson was staring at the spot where the revolver had been, his mind filled with a new desire. A new kind of wand, maybe? He wasn't worried about Alice; he knew his teacher wouldn't harm an innocent. But that weapon... I wonder if I can get one of those.
"Is that everything?" Alice asked when she was finished.
"Affirmative. Data acquisition complete." Stell walked to a clear spot in the clearing.
"Vector Gate"
A familiar golden portal opened beside her. She glanced at Takson, then stepped through.
Alice looked at Takson, a question in her eyes.
"Let's go," he said with a reassuring smile. "This will take us right to your uncle's house."
"Really? That fast?"
"Really," he confirmed, chuckling at her amazement. "Trust us. We won't hurt you." He knew she was still wary. "Besides, this isn't the first time, right?" He was referring to the portal that had brought them to the bandit hideout.
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "I trust you." And with that, the two of them stepped into the shimmering gate.
….
"Teacher, don't you think there was something off about Alice's uncle?"
Takson strolled down the road, munching on a cookie from the basket he was carrying.
"Answer: Facial analysis indicates no negative emotional responses from the subject."
"I know, I know. On the surface, he seemed like a nice guy."
They had delivered Alice to the home of her uncle, Joseph Charles. After hearing the full story, Joseph had readily agreed to take his niece in, even offering to adopt her. It had all gone smoothly.
Alice had a new home, and they had received their commission. I had even given Alice a large portion of the money "recovered" from the bandits.
It was likely, Stell had calculated, that the sudden influx of wealth was a significant factor in the uncle's "generosity." But she saw no reason to share this cynical observation with Takson. It was an unnecessary data point.
Our contract with Alice was now complete. She was no longer our concern.
"But Teacher," Takson said, a worried frown on his face, "I have a bad feeling about that uncle. It didn't seem like he really wanted to take her in."
"Reminder: Our contract with the individual 'Alice' has been terminated. Her subsequent fate is of no relevance to us."
"I guess you're right," Takson said, easily persuaded. He trusted his teacher's judgment implicitly.
And he was right to do so. Stell's logic was sound. For an orphan like Alice, being taken in by a relative, regardless of their true motivations, was the best possible outcome. It was certainly better than being left homeless.
Unlike Takson, who had already formed an emotional attachment to the girl, Stell had not added Alice to her internal "priority" list.
They were passing strangers; no further connection was necessary. Currently, that list contained only three names: Takson, Serie, and Flamme.
"So, Teacher," Takson asked, his curiosity getting the better of him, "where are we going next?"
"Answer: The Elven Village."
"The what?"
"Addendum: The primary settlement of the elven race."
After passing through the city gates, Takson's eyes lit up with a new excitement. "You mean, a village where lots of elves live?"
"Explanation: The term is literal."
"I get it!"
"Query: You have information on this settlement?"
"Yeah! When I was a kid, the old folks used to tell stories about the elves," he said, his voice filled with a childlike wonder. "I always wondered what they were really like. I've never met one."
He had, of course. He just didn't know it. The battle with Serie had been a chaotic, long-range affair, and he had never gotten a clear look at my opponent.
"Teacher, what do elves look like?" he asked, confident in my encyclopedic knowledge.
And he was right. I did know.
"Answer: The elven species shares a 95% physiological similarity with humans. The primary differences are lifespan, facial aesthetics, and ear structure."
"Huh? Is that all?" He looked crestfallen. His childhood fantasies were crumbling before his eyes. But then, a new thought struck him. "Teacher, what do you mean, 'facial aesthetics'? Do they look... different from us?"
He had conveniently ignored the "95% similarity" part of my explanation. It was as if he wanted them to be different.
Does he have a preference for non-humanoid species? The thought was interesting, but ultimately irrelevant. His personal tastes were not my concern.
"Negative," I said. "According to my data, the facial features of the elven species are, on average, within the 'excellent' to 'superior' range of human aesthetic standards."
"So they're all just really good-looking people? That's it?"
I cross-referenced my data with the elves of my previous world's fiction. "Affirmative."
"Query: What were you imagining?" I asked, genuinely curious as to what fantastical image had just been shattered.
He looked away, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Ahaha, it was just some silly stories I heard as a kid. Nothing important."
That was a lie. I detected it instantly, but I didn't call him on it. It was clear he was too embarrassed to say.
So be it. I was not one to pry. If Takson didn't want to share, I wouldn't force him.
We crossed the moat and left the city behind. "So, Teacher, do you know where this Elven Village is?" he asked.
"Answer: I have directional data only. No specific coordinates."
With that, I started down the road. Takson, though surprised that I didn't have the exact location, followed without question. He shifted the weight of his pack on his shoulders, an empty, familiar motion.
Ever since I had learned "Storage Magic," all of our supplies had been tucked away in a pocket dimension. He had insisted on carrying his own pack, a sentimental attachment to the physical weight of the journey. I still didn't fully understand it.
A small smile played on his lips. His "angel" teacher, for all her power and knowledge, still couldn't quite grasp the illogical nuances of human emotion.
...
As we walked, my own thoughts drifted back to my encounter with Serie. She had not given me a precise location, only a general direction.
"Why are you going there, anyway?" she had asked.
"Answer: To find a target individual."
"An elf?"
"Affirmative."
"I don't understand what you want with an elf."
"..."
"Fine, be that way. But when you return, I expect you to share any interesting magic you collect on your journey."
"Affirmative. A contract has been established."
That had been the extent of our conversation.
….
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