'But, enough talking,' said the village head with a sigh.
Yeah, no shit.
If he hadn't stopped, Arin might've seriously considered asking the dragon to take his ears next.
Turns out, villain monologues were just as annoying in person. All that he'd managed to learn from it, was that he was screwed!
But also, if the man was done talking, that meant -
Sir Grif raised a hand, and Arin immediately ran to one side, to evade whatever was coming. He was still clutching his bleeding stump, which made the movement awkward, but he wasn't exactly going for style points at the moment.
There was a sudden cry, and he whipped his head around to see the three remaining survivors staggering and struggling against three giant snakes, that were swiftly winding around their legs and up their bodies.
Even the speed-enhancing talent-user had been caught somehow.
Sir Grif hadn't been targeting him just then.
'Keep them out of the way, and safe from those beetles,' he commanded the beasts, voice monotonous now that he wasn't laughing anymore. 'I cannot trust those fools to keep themselves alive alone. That is all.'
His snakes had already wrapped themselves around the two women and one man almost completely, leaving only three pairs of eyes peering over the top; one reddened from crying, and the other two glaring angrily at the headman.
It didn't matter what they felt. They were completely helpless as they toppled over to lay uselessly on the ground, like scaley, dull-gold-colored mummies.
'Now then...'
Oh, right.
Arin turned right back around to continue running away from the square.
He heard the loud flap of large wings, but refused to turn around. He didn't want to risk tripping like an idiot.
As he ran, his mind was also racing.
Those three people wouldn't be dying anytime soon. And if what the headman had said about the distortion was true, everyone on the outside might also get pulled back in tonight itself.
And if that happened, not only would it means that he had failed completely, but also that any future attempts at doing the same thing would also become ten times more difficult. More importantly, the distortion was still growing.
Arin didn't want to know what the fully evolved from of this particular distortion would look like.
The only question was, how much longer did he have before that happened?
Damn it, damn it.
Arin felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle again. He stopped thinking for a moment, and threw himself to one side, rolling on the ground a few times.
At the same time, he felt the air burn hot again as roaring fire left the creature's mouth, to hit the spot where he'd just been.
'What the hell!?' he cried, pushing himself to his feet again as quickly as he could manage with one hand. The open wound on his other arm dribbled more blood, and Arin suddenly felt a wave of lightheadedness.
Hadn't Grif had already made it quite clear that he wouldn't let Arin 'die', and therefore leave the dream, just yet?
'Not too much now,' he heard the village head's voice drone from the distance. He didn't sound too troubled. 'Capture him first. Then, you can play with him as you please.'
Right, of course.
One little fire-breath probably still wouldn't kill him immediately. And who was he to judge if the man's dragon wanted a slightly crispy toy?
But, if he was caught, it really would be over.
So, for now...
Arin's feet pushed against the ground with all the strength he could muster. It almost felt as though he was flying across the path.
Or maybe that was still the lightheadedness...
Gritting his teeth, he rounded a corner. His feet thudded in maddening rhythm, as he made his way to one of the taller buildings in the area - some kind of bell tower, was it? - while frantically lifting his hand with the illusion-bracelet. Only to discover -
It was gone.
The damned silver bracelet was gone.
Of course it was.
'Are you kidding me!?' he yelled. 'What a damned joke! Damn it all!'
He'd already learned that Rin's talent wasn't actually beast-bonding, or whatever that was called. What it actually was, he hadn't yet been told.
He himself didn't have a talent.
The white-haired man had given him the bracelet so that he might keep up the illusion of Rin's supposed talent. He had also warned him of its limitations. The simple tool was probably nowhere near the actual, tangible illusion magic that the tower master possessed.
The reason he could draw upon it indefinitely within the distortion, was simply that the distortion was also his dream. He simply had to believe that the tool he'd been given could handle what he needed.
Of course, it helped that he'd never actually used it before, and therefore, didn't actually know what exactly its limitations were.
The reason his 'summoned' beasts had affected the villagers as real beasts might, was also quite simple. The residents of Silvershade had mostly already heard at least whispers of 'sir Rin, the beast-talent tower magician who had broken the curse.'
And since this was also technically their dream, enough people passively believing his talent to be beast-related, meant that his illusion beasts would affect everyone as real beasts might.
At least, that's what Arin had understood from the white-haired tower master's vague nonsense during their earlier conversation. And so far, things seemed to have mostly worked out fine.
Until now.
The damned illusion tool was gone.
He had no magic of any kind to help him anymore.