Ragnis asked a couple other questions. Whenever she took too long or hesitated to answer one, he’d just ask another, completely unrelated one. Eventually he must’ve realized exactly what she wouldn’t answer, because he stopped asking anything specific about before her arrival to Yllvamel; instead, he chose perhaps the safest options anyone could, like favorite color or her preferences of pets.
Lynette didn’t really notice when her guard dropped. They just spent so much of the day talking, walking through town, introducing her to any of the other townspeople she hadn’t met yet. She started to think that, maybe… this really could be a good thing. That she could put everything else behind her.
Apparently, she must’ve forgotten what happened in stories when its protagonists started to believe that.
“Hello, you! Yes, the one with that annoying child! Tell me, have you seen my star?” That was a voice she’d been hoping she’d never have to hear again. The moment she saw him—right in front of them, though he didn’t notice them yet—she instinctively hid behind Regind.
“I—I’m not sure what you mean, sir,” the woman he was talking to responded hesitantly.
“My star! The one that’s too good for this pathetic little town! Don’t dare lie to me. That bitch may have run but she should know better than to think she can hide from me.”
Lynette had the sinking feeling that she didn’t know the way back to Nana and Papa’s enough in order to hide there. That, and the other three, completely unaware of everything she was feeling, still started to slowly approach the person.
“Don’t talk with him,” she warned, quietly, and was honestly surprised to see that they heard her.
Regind looked back, confused, but in a way Lynette twisted it to be accusing. “Do you know him?”
The director practically answered that question for her. “I know she’s here somewhere! Even you should be able to sense the raw talent and natural beauty she possesses! A kind that belongs on a stage, making money, gaining the adoring love of hundreds.”
The poor woman looked no less confused.
“Really? For possessing a goddess of the arts, you’re awfully blind to the one in front of you! Answer me: where is Lynette Avery?”
“Is… he talking about you?” Loraena asked, glancing at Lynette too.
Lynette had no reason to believe, not really, that they were any more than harmless questions—the kinds that wouldn’t matter, possibly even just a few minutes from now. But she told herself that they were more than that. She’d lied and now these still mostly-acquaintances were going to know the truth. They were already associating him with her—who’s to say they didn’t decide she was exactly the same?
Unfortunately, she had no time to try to explain herself. The director noticed the four of them, then smiled the moment he caught sight of Lynette. He practically shoved aside anyone that stood in the way between him and her, though Regind and Ragnis kept him from getting any closer than that.
“Lyn,” the director sighed. “Who do you think you’re fooling? You know that you’re better than this! Fame and fortune await you but you’re lingering in this backwater Qizarn town. You should be grateful that I was able to track you down and bring you back to where you belong!” You failed to realize I have more money AND blackmail at my disposal to get people to talk, was what he practically meant.
“I’m not going with you,” Lynette said so much more confidently than she felt. “I left, and that’s the end of it. You can’t do anything else.”
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It seemed that everyone was watching; they slowed their pace as they walked by, peering out windows to get a better look. There was something more mixed in with the curiosity—they were carefully observing, waiting for if they would need to do something. Whatever that something was.
The director pushed Regind out of the way—getting a very clear reaction out of the crowd—and took Lynette’s hand. He tried pulling her away but, somehow, she didn’t move. “That’s one hell of a way to treat the man who made you, isn’t it? This little game of yours is over. It’s time to bring you back to where you’re supposed to be.”
“Can’t you see she doesn’t want to go with you?” All the friendliness that had once been in Ragnis’s voice was almost gone now, replaced by some kind of determined, cold tone. “I’ll be honest, I have no idea what’s going on. But I can tell that you’re not accepting her very clear ‘no’ as an answer. And, frankly, if you think we’re going to go along with that, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“You look, sound, and act like an asshole,” Loraena mumbled. “You don’t want to know what I won’t regret doing to someone like that.”
The director laughed. “Oh no, whatever the hell you’re supposed to be!” he cried mockingly. “I’m nearly terrified out of my wits!”
“I think you should leave,” Regind said, moving to stand right next to Lynette. “You’re just drawing more unwanted attention to yourself.”
“Who’s going to make me? I’ve dealt with far worse than a couple of kids like you.” He took one step closer to Lynette, but that was where he stopped.
“You asked for it.” Loraena muttered something else, too—something that matched whatever language she had sung in. Whatever it was, it sounded like a curse. Behind that confident stare she gave the director, there was a hint of panic, like she was afraid of going too far.
His smile turned to a frown; one of annoyance at first, then twisting into one more befitting of fear. He looked between each of the four and to everyone watching the crowd. “What the hell is wrong with you? What are you doing to me?”
“Sirens lure people out with their songs. But do you know what makes them so enchanting? The fact that, in the end, it’s all just an illusion.” Loraena took a deep breath and whispered one final word of the spell. “Now I advise you to get going before things get any worse for you.”
At first, he still didn’t look like he was going to go. Then, as his eyes darted to each part of their surroundings, something else took over; a kind of instinct of sorts, in which he could only give them dark glares and declare, “Damn you! I’ll be back for my star, mark my words!” before running off. No one said a word, but it felt like the whole of the town was cheering.
Lynette waited a moment to start asking the several questions she now had. “What did you do?”
“Sirens are naturally very talented in Illusion magic,” Loraena explained hesitantly. Any former confidence she’d had was gone now, replaced with a nervous tone that screamed something closer to I just murdered a man. “I just… showed him some of his fears. He’ll probably have nightmares for a couple of days. If not… a couple of weeks… I—I don’t like doing it. It can do some… pretty bad things… that I don’t want to accidentally do out of habit.”
“Don’t worry about that bastard. He deserves everything that might happen to him.” Lynette paused. “But I… don’t get why you did it. I’m a stranger to you—I’ve literally only known two of you for a couple of hours. It probably would’ve saved you a lot of trouble to just listened to him…”
Ragnis, despite all the seriousness in her tone, chuckled. “If there’s one thing you should know about the people here in Yllvamel, it’s that we stick together. You were one of us from the moment Nana and Papa Ransu decided to let you stay with them.”
Regind nodded and smiled. “Do you really think the rest of us would be here if we only listened to rude people?” She paused and, a bit more hesitant, added, “But I am kinda curious about what he was talking about—if you’re alright with telling us. I know your past really seems to be a sensitive topic for you, but I think I can speak for all of us when I say I don’t want it to be like that. You’ve seen already that we aren’t going to abandon you, no matter what you say. Burdens… are a little lighter when you share them with others, you know?”
“I don’t know…” Lynette had seen for herself that what Regind said was true. Years in her lifestyle couldn’t be erased by one good deed, however. “I-it isn’t really a good story, or a particularly exciting one. It’s not even that important…”
“You don’t need to tell everyone if you don’t want to,” Regind pointed out. “I’m not asking you to shout it out from the roof. I just want you to know that you can talk to us—and it doesn’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want it to.”
“A-alright. I suppose I owe you something anyway, for getting rid of him. But can we head back to the house? I know everyone’s gone back to their business but I still don’t want to say it too openly…”