In the distance, Arin heard someone's indistinct question. Siel's clear voice floated over as he gave a response, explaining something about having been asked to replace soiled bedding.
Arin wasn't exactly paying attention. He remained frozen in place, eyes fixed upon the stretch of plain fabric pulled over the healer's face.
The cloaked healer tilted his head. 'Well, magician... Rin? Weren't you in quite the rush? What's the matter?'
Arin still didn't quite know what to say. Just then, a bead of sweat dripped past his eyebrow and into his eye.
It stung!
He quickly blinked hard, rubbing his eye. And since he'd already moved, he then took the opportunity to stand up.
Perfect way to end that conversation. That wasn't awkward at all anymore.
He heard a small sigh, and the cloaked healer before him also stood up. It was only when he had to look up at him, that Arin remembered just how insanely tall the man was, even before Rin's towering form.
He swallowed. 'Right, well. A deal's a deal. You keep the secret, and take care of this -' he gestured vaguely at the surrounding mattresses, '- and I'll keep up my end of the deal.'
'You will,' the healer nodded. 'And so will your junior brother.'
Arin nodded too.
Yeah, sure. Why not.
He didn't know what Siel had promised this man in return, but ultimately, it didn't matter.
The boy was many things; dishonest enough to lie about something like this, or stupid enough to do so against a man like this, definitely wasn't among them.
'Mm-hmm. Then, I'll be off.' Arin turned to leave.
'Be quick with it. It's already almost done.'
Arin blinked, shocked. This time, he didn't waste any more time dramatically freezing in place, or asking questions. He turned on his heel and left as quickly as he could, without rousing any suspicion.
...
Outside Silvershade, Siel had already carried Elara quite far on foot. When Arin reached him on the back of a silver dragon, he didn't say anything, and simply handed over the body.
Arin took it, trying not to think of how the scene might look to an observer. Like he was involved in some kind of horrible human smuggling operation.
He held up one of the contact glasses he'd borrowed from the village, and Siel nodded in understanding.
'I shall keep an eye on things here,' said the younger tower magician. 'I'll contact you only if the need arises.'
'Good.'
Securing the wrapped-up body as best as he could on the dragon's back, Arin tapped it's side.
'C'mon, lazybones,' he whispered.
The dragon let out a huff of warm air, before spreading out its wings and taking flight low into the night sky.
...
As they flew over the treetops, Arin sighed. All things considered, he was actually rather relieved at the moment. The younger tower magician hadn't asked him to explain in detail whatever he was going to be doing next.
...Quite possibly because the kid knew how pressed for time they were, but also mostly because of how much faith he still had in his 'senior brother Rin', in spite of his less-than-stellar performance.
In any case, Arin's genius plan had involved carrying Elara - and the distortion - deep into the woods, and as far away from any human settlements as possible.
Of course, the sensible thing might have been to contact those so-called officials instead. To feed them some lie about having discovered a possible distortion in its early stages, and have them destroy it without implicating anyone else.
After all, the other villagers had been extracted.
That way, no one else would come to harm.
No one besides Elara.
And that, precisely, was why Arin couldn't do it.
He'd only ever interacted with the headman's daughter within the dream. He could barely even say he'd gotten to know her.
In fact, he'd never even known the real her, who had lost both, her mind, and her will to live, in the real world. Who had changed even before the distortion had come to be.
Still, he knew part of her.
The her she truly had once been.
The her she had probably wished she still was.
As the harsh, cold wind slapped his face, Arin reached to readjust the blanket wrapped around the small form in front of him, tucking it in at the sides.
The freezing cold probably wasn't great for the frail body of the girl.
Arin had a guess;
Deep in her heart, Elara had probably wanted, desperately, to have gotten better.
She had probably wished she could have had the strength to overcome her grief. Wished that she might have been able to support her beloved father. Wished that she might have continued being the 'Elara' that everyone had spoken of. Wished to once again, be the lovable the girl she had once been, rather than the husk she had become.
Arin had even wondered whether that kind of intense desperation - some strange, trapped madness that had festered, hidden away and incapable of finding an outlet - had somehow invited, or even caused the distortion.
The distortion - a dream - within which the girl had indeed gotten better, and had been able to continue living her life the way she might have. A realistic world where she remained surrounded by everything familiar, and everyone she loved.
Well, he couldn't know for sure, of course.
In this world, there was very little he could claim to know.
All Arin did know for certain was that he didn't want to consign a little girl to certain death without even trying.
And so, here he was, following a foolish, half-baked plan once again.
Once he'd safely made it to the remotest part of the woods he could find, Arin had planned upon making use of the contact glass.
To contact who else, but that white-haired tower master, of course.
Because, as unreliable and annoying as the man usually seemed, he was pretty much the only one he could rely upon for something like this.
Arin just hoped the man would have a solution for him.