After gathering herself, Elara had thought for a moment, then turned on her heel and run out of the estate once again.
Racing down the familiar, rolling roads of Silvershade, the girl had cast her gaze around, searching for the most crowded places. The thudding of her heart and her feet on the packed dirt had seemed to synchronize and blend in her ears; a percussion piece of desperation.
And just like that, the girl was back in the village marketplace.
Her sweaty, panting appearance had already drawn a few curious gazes. There had even been a few familiar faces in the crowd. Elara had known that those were the ones who'd be the most shocked at the sight of her in such a state – the ones who knew her as the 'angelic daughter of the village headman'.
Good. Let them look at her. Let them hear her.
Striding to the very middle of the marketplace, the girl had planted her feet firmly into the ground, and raised her arms up high. Then, with as much strength as she could muster in her voice, she had screamed,
'Hey! Hey! The people of Silvershade, listen to me!'
Following her call, a sudden hush had fallen across the marketplace, as individual conversations stalled. Lips pursed and eyebrows raised, several people had turned to look in her direction.
Not enough. Not enough.
'Everyone!' Elara had screamed again. 'Look here! Listen! There is something very important that you must know!'
At that, even more people had stopped whatever they'd been doing, straightening up or setting down crates as they'd turned to face her.
'…Is that… the young lady, from the headman's family?' a weak voice had asked from somewhere to her left. No one had responded; everyone seemed more focused on hearing what she had to say. Some people, standing further in the distance, had even taken to standing on tiptoes, craning their necks as they'd tried to get a better view of the commotion.
Good.
'We! Are Not! Awake!' the girl had cried then, swiveling her head and trying to meet as many eyes as she could from amongst the crows.
There'd been silence for a moment longer. Then, hushed whispers had blossomed across the marketplace, spreading with the intensity of a forest fire.
Good. Good.
Without wasting any more time, the girl had then repeated, 'We are not awake! The curse wasn't broken! No, there was no curse to begin with!'
'Young lady… Elara?' someone else had suddenly called out her name from somewhere within the crowd. Elara hadn't responded.
'This is all a dream! My dream! A distortion! A distortion!' she'd continued. By then, her throat had started feeling raw and scraped, and the girl had paused for a moment to take in a deep gulp of the cooled morning air.
It had all felt so real. The way it had rushed down her throat, hurting it even more. The way it had tasted faintly of greenery and hay. The way… oh dear…
The way all those people were staring at her.
For just a moment, Elara had felt mortified.
…could she have been wrong after all? Had she made everyone in the village see her as a madwoman, for no reason? Had she –
No. No!
She knew what she'd seen. This was her responsibility. If these people were dying… or, perhaps, already… no! They'd be saved. She would make certain of that.
'Lady Elara, what do… what do you mean?' someone had then asked, and the crowd had suddenly erupted into conversations and questions directed her way.
Good!
'We are yet trapped in a distorted talent! If you are to survive, you must awaken! Truly awaken!' she'd answered.
…
'Distortions? Fearmongering…'
'And how are we to do that?'
'But what of those tower magicians we've heard of?'
'Someone, go help the poor lady.'
'What makes you say that, lady Elara?'
'Quickly, call someone from her family… get help…'
Elara had bitten her lip, listening to all the different words and opinions coming her way.
It wasn't an issue that they didn't believe her.
Surely, the distortion wasn't strong enough to affect all these people at once. And as long as someone knew, besides herself, there'd be more minds working towards a solution. The tower magicians would've been the soundest choice, but alas…
'So!' she'd cried out again, pitching her voice to be heard over the babble, 'Who here has knowledge of distortions? I must speak with you!'
The packed marketplace was still buzzing with questions. Elara had ignored them, and searched through the crowd hoping to find someone to answer her call.
'Someone? It is no issue if you don't believe me! Just listen!'
Still, she'd looked through the crowd for a response. The many faces had seemed to blur together as she'd scanned past them, her roving gaze turning swiftly in search.
…
No.
The faces had been blurring together.
The people around her had started swirling, swirling, twisting and turning and blurring out of focus as they lost their forms. Their voices had also faded into an unpleasant buzz that lingered in the background.
No, no, no.
How!? Was the distortion that strong?
...
This time, Elara hadn't tried calling out in desperation. The young girl had just remained where she'd stood, until the world had righted itself again.
The marketplace was as it had been earlier that morning; doors open and groups of people discussing things as they organized boxes or carried crates away.
And, besides a few passing glances, no one had been looking at her.
But, it hadn't all been in vain. Much to her dismay, the girl had – at the very least – learned just how powerful the distortion was.