Arin slid down the last of the tree, landing back onto the ground with a soft but solid - thud.
This was bad.
Siel might come looking for him. Someone else might just be passing by. None of them would stand a chance if they unwillingly entered the distortion's range.
And so, he couldn't afford to delay things any longer.
Arin turned to look at the sleeping Elara.
...
...
...
Even after everything was done, she hadn't appeared to him. He'd assumed that, given his current state, he might see her again.
Speak to her again. Maybe to apologize. Maybe just to seek reassurance, to confirm that she still didn't blame him.
He didn't know. It didn't matter.
She hadn't appeared.
...
It was over an hour later when Arin finally stood up again from where he'd been sitting, curled-up by a tree.
A strange, persistent buzz was ringing in his head. His mind remained strangely blank.
He shook his head hard.
Right. He couldn't just stay here.
He couldn't stay here.
He had to figure out how to get back into his, no, Rin's body. But also, eventually, his body.
So he could leave.
Because he couldn't stay here.
Arin walked over to where the other man's body still lay, sprawled on the ground.
His steps were unsteady.
It was as though his eyes couldn't focus on anything anymore.
He felt light, untethered, as though he might suddenly float away. But he also felt heavy, as though his weight would pull him to sink right into the ground...
Arin shook his head again, harder this time.
After thinking for a moment, he bent down and gripped Rin's legs at the ankles. He then dragged the body a few feet in a certain direction.
Away. Far away enough that he wouldn't have to see that.
He then reached for the bag by Rin's side, and pulled out the contact glass.
He hoped the white-haired tower master - the real one - would know what to do.
...
Arin waited with bated breath. He'd already traced the now-familiar mark onto the mirror's surface.
He was just starting to worry that the tool wouldn't be able to register his touch, when the glass finally flashed with light.
And then, the white-haired tower master's face appeared in the mirror.
Arin sighed with relief.
'I need your help,' he said at once, his voice breaking slightly.
There was silence for a moment. Then, the tower master sighed delicately.
'I cannot see you, Arin,' he said.
...
...right. Of course.
'That's because I'm, uh... a ghost?' he said. 'I just figured out how to deal with the 'intangible' bit. I hadn't considered the 'invisible' part at all. Sorry. I'm hoping you can fix it, regardless.'
Words came tumbling out of his mouth, almost with a sort of eagerness. He couldn't wait to hand over the reins to someone else, so he could shut his brain down for a moment.
Just a moment. That's all he'd need.
There was another sigh from the contact glass.
'If you are speaking, I cannot hear you.'
...sure. There was that, too.
On a regular day, Arin might have tried some dumb, convoluted way of getting his point across.
Maybe try to kick up leaves or move rocks like some poltergeist from a horror movie. Or maybe, use a stick to scrawl words, or even stick figures, into the dirt; telling a story that conveyed the details of his current predicament.
But right now, he was tired. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to do.
And so, he just quietly turned the contact glass around, so that the surface would reflect Rin's body.
There was silence again.
'It killed you, did it?' came the tower master's voice at last. He sounded carefree as ever, and for the first time, Arin discovered that he didn't resent him for it.
'Based on what I can see of your surroundings, you were the only human victim,' the man continued. 'Well done.'
'But tell me; does it still remain a danger?'
Arin frozen for a moment. Then, still carrying the contact glass, he reluctantly took a few steps back in the direction from which he'd just come.
Not too close. Just close enough, so the man could see...
Reflected on the mirror's surface was a certain tree in the distance. There was a small form, tightly wrapped in a blanket, propped up at it's base.
...
'I see,' came the man's voice again. 'You've done what you had to do. Well done, Arin.'
Was his tone somehow even more gentle than usual?
'The outcome exceeds expectations. I hope you know you've saved many lives with your actions.'
Oh.
Was he trying to comfort him?
'Now, Arin, return to where Rin's body lies.'
Arin followed the tower master's instructions like a puppet.
'Arrange his limbs into a comfortable position. Good. Now, align yourself with it, and lie down.'
Arin set the contact glass down by his side on the ground. He rubbed the tips of his fingers with his thumb, and pictured his tissues and cells, his molecules and atoms, all fading away and dispersing.
He was a ghost. He didn't have a body. He'd forced his... spirit? Energy? - to condense and solidify, mimicking the familiar feeling, following the memories, of what had once been.
But right now, being intangible was his natural form. And as soon as he let it go, he felt himself return to being that way.
After a moment, Arin finally did as the man had said, and lay down.
There was no miracle. He didn't suddenly fuse back into Rin's body and reanimate it.
He lifted his left arm. It came right up, passing through Rin's without making it even twitch.
It was then that he remembered he was shorter and thinner than Rin. His limbs and torso didn't fit quite right with the man's frame.
He'd laid down aligning his head with Rin's. But lifting it to peer down, he could now see his toes sticking out from the man's shins.
'Now, don't worry about anything for the moment, Arin,' came the white-haired man's voice. 'Remain where you are, and try to fall asleep.'
...Huh?
'Trust me. I shall ensure that you're returned to his body. You can do nothing to help with this part.'
Fair enough.
'So, let it all go. You've done well. Everything else will be taken care of.'
Yeah? Good.
All of a sudden, he was exhausted.
'Just... sleep.'
Sleep.