Those memories, soft and pure as moonlight, flowing soundlessly, struck Abigail with tremendous force.
She stood frozen for a long while before slowly walking over.
The Cloak had already passed the two of them and moved closer to a row of shelves. The fabric at its edges moved like agile octopus tentacles, lightly brushing away the layer of dust on the bottles.
"Huh, they even have labels. Let me see..."
Hearing that, Abigail immediately turned her head, wanting to know how it was "seeing."
But no eyes had grown from the Cloak. Its body swayed gently as it complained, "Jalen Henry, Brandon Chubb, Miles Lindor... Who are these people?"
"Wait, Brandon Chubb?" Abigail walked over to inspect the label and said softly, "I know him... He's also a Scourer. I heard he's been active in Indiana."
"There are Scourers in the Midwest too? This is the first I've heard of it." The Cloak muttered, then asked Braun, "Did you know?"
"Of course I knew. The ordinary people among them naturally have the IRS to deal with them, while the troublesome ones become achievements for the new president of the Magical Congress." Braun said irritably, "Did you think everyone was like you, with nothing to worry about?"
"Hey, jealous? Want to trade places with me?" the Cloak said smugly.
Braun rolled his eyes. "Stop talking nonsense and find the memories!"
Abigail watched them with a trace of curiosity in her eyes.
Although Braun always sounded rather rude when speaking to the Cloak, it was obvious that they had a good relationship and treated each other much more casually.
Their relationship... was not like that of an owner and clothing, nor that of a wizard and a Wand... It was more like equal-status friends who could fool around together.
—Equal in status