They took a few more steps through the hall before one of the doors creaked open. Someone their age slowly walked into the hallway—matching the appearance of the boy in all those illusions. He looked more distant, though, and uninterested in the sight of the four of them.
“What are you doing here?” he asked with a blank tone. He tilted his head, but his expression didn’t change to show any glimpse of emotion.
Loraena subtly gestured to the others to say still and slowly walked up to him. “We’re here to check on you. My name’s Loraena, and these three are Ragnis, Regind, and Lynette. We were worried…”
“Worried?”
“We didn’t see you during the festival so we were afraid something happened to you. And all these illusions… it’s a lot of magic for one person. You really shouldn’t be using that much all at once…”
“Illusions? What illusions..?”
Everyone but Lynette—who didn’t understand enough context to share their feelings—did not take well to the fact. But hadn’t they already guessed that? Perhaps there was that big of a difference between speculation and fact with these kinds of matters…
“Everything we saw just now,” Loraena explained slowly. “The scenes of you and your mother.”
That made him show his first bit of emotion: confusion. “You see them, too?”
“Of course we do, because you’re using your magic to create them. From the looks of it, it’s affecting the entire estate. That isn’t good for you…”
“They’re my memories. The fragments of Mother. What’s left of her…” He shook his head. “It’s what she would’ve wanted. I’m not alone with them here.”
“You are, you’re just tricking yourself into seeing it. There’s no one else here to be doing it. We—we saw a bit of what must’ve happened to her. I know it’s got to be confusing, but she wouldn’t have wanted this. We can help you…”
She cautiously reached out her hand, but he stepped back before she could touch him. “You want to take me away from here—from her.”
“I want to help you.”
Something flashed—more pieces of an illusion, most likely. Astyu started fervently shaking his head, backing away like they intended to hurt him. “You’re not making me leave. I’m not going, no matter what.” Illusions flickered again, as aggressive as such a thing could be to make it very clear he thought they crossed a line. “Leave. Before I make you.”
Loraena didn’t seem willing, but Regind was already ushering Lynette out. Right before they went out of sight, she saw Ragnis take Loraena’s hand and force her to follow him out of the estate.
Somehow, she’d refrained until they were all back outside to point out, “We still can’t just leave him there.”
“No one said we had to,” Ragnis said calmly.
Regind nodded. “But that’s not the kind of force we want to try to mess with right now.”
Loraena finally realized that she was outnumbered and accepted her fate. Defeated, she placed the bread and cookies by the door—mumbling something as she did so—then walked back to the others. “What do you think we should do? What can we do?”
“At this point he’s kind of like a confused kid,” Ragnis remarked. “Maybe… we’ll at least be able to figure out how to talk to him if we knew what happened.”
“For one, I don’t want to see the context behind whatever the hell that scene was,” Lynette chimed in before her opinion no longer mattered. “And second, I have no idea how that’s supposed to help. I don’t think you cure someone of trauma by making them relive it.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Regind gave it some thought. “Not on its own, anyway. But… who knows how much of it he understands. Those illusions might be his way of working through them but it’s only hurting him in the long run. Giving him a clearer idea of what happened in a much safer way might just work…”
“Do you think that’s something you can do?” Loraena asked, seeming to find some hope in the idea.
“Maybe. I’m not the best at that kind of stuff, but I’ll certainly try.” Regind glanced at Lynette and smiled. “With a helper, I can probably get it done a lot quicker, though!”
Lynette nodded. “I still don’t understand anything, but I’m willing to help.”
“I can probably get the pastor to let us look at the records,” Ragnis offered. “That gives Loraena and I something to do, at least. Maybe something there has an adult’s point of view of what happened.”
Loraena managed a small smile. “Thank you.”
“It’s what friends are for!” Regind said cheerfully.
…
Nana and Papa had yet to forget about whatever conversation they’d been having earlier. Regind hadn’t excused it like before, though—she just ushered Lynette into the workshop so she wouldn’t hear it.
Well, she heard the fact it was a well-meaning but extreme conversation, but not the exact contents. Regind came back only slightly showing signs of it and very quick to declare, “Alright, we can get to work!”
“I have… one question before we do,” Lynette remarked. “What’s… the deal with his magic, again? Why does it matter how much of it he’s using? Is there a kind of hard limit..?”
Regind paused, then let out a sheepish chuckle. “I guess, being Seothian, you probably had no idea what half the stuff we were talking about meant, huh..?” She explained the rest as she started working. “Probably the easiest way to describe it would be to think of a runner. A quick walk around the neighborhood is no problem for them, if not a bit tiring after a while. A jog or run is slightly more so but, since it isn’t far, it isn’t a problem. Now consider they decided to run a marathon, without any proper training—they might be fine, but they’re probably not going to make it. If they don’t stop when they should, they’ll end up passing out from exhaustion, and possibly die because of it. Magic more or less functions the same way.”
So it wasn’t an exaggeration for the token child of Fleyw Bresh to heroically sacrifice themselves only to be revealed to be dying once all the celebrating was done. Well, maybe a little exaggerated, but not as much as she’d first assumed.
“I see,” Lynette mumbled. “Thank you. I understand it a bit better now.”
“No problem! You know, it’s another reason that I like to work with alchemy. Not only can it help those without magic, but it also keeps those that have it from using too much. You hear stories about it every now and again—someone in the service of a noble who didn’t care, or was trying to protect their home. I’ve never known anyone like that, but it affects all of us, somehow. Like ripples in the water.”
“It’s… rather kind of you, putting all this effort into trying to help strangers. I can’t say I’ve met many people before coming here ever care about something like that—but I guess that has more to say about who I was with than you…”
“Well, the Commandments say there’s a reason for everything—even the bad.” Regind smiled at her. “What happened in the past is what led up to the present, right? You wouldn’t be here if all of that hadn’t happened before.”
Lynette was quiet for a few moments, then, “You all know the story of how I ended up here. I… was kind of curious to know yours, if you’re willing. I want to know you better but I get if this feels like I’m putting you on the spot…”
Regind seemed surprised at first, but not opposed to the idea. “No, it’s alright. With the way this morning went I probably owe you some kind of explanation anyway. I’m pretty sure you’ve figured out by now that alchemy was only half my reason for moving here. The other half is, well… my parents. I don’t think they’re bad, not really—I think they do care, just… on the well-intentioned extremist kind of side. They had plans for me and coming out wasn’t one of them. They’re not… too interested in making that change of detail. So I’ve been staying with Nana and Papa, even if my parents still want me to come over and ‘talk’ with them about it…”
“Thank you, and… I’m glad that you’re here. I… meant what I said earlier, about liking you as you are. No amount of new information changes that, you know.”
Regind blushed. “Yeah. H-hey, I know we’re kinda busy right now, but once we help Astyu… would you like to go out? O-on a walk! Or a trip out of town. Without the others. Just the two of us.”
“Like… a date?”
“I—I mean, if you’re alright with calling it that, I wouldn’t mind if—“
Lynette’s first answer came as a kiss on the cheek. “I’d love that.”