Looks like there were quite a few secrets being hidden in the headman's estate…
Rather than mulling over all the things that weren't quite adding up, Arin decided it was better to spend the remaining few hours of nighttime making sense of more urgent matters. For starters…
'Contact master,' he said to the younger tower magician. 'Ask him what he knows of distortions, and whether he believes eliminating the source would free the affected people, or destroy them along with it.'
If it was the former, the matter would be concluded with the death of Elara. If it was the latter, the former solution would also kill everyone else in Silvershade. Either way, it wouldn't be easy. Still, it was better if they could know for sure.
Siel nodded. 'I don't have a contact glass, but I'm certain I remember seeing one in sir Grif's office within the dream world. I'll make use of that.'
'I was also thinking we ought to reexamine both his records and his personal effects in detail,' said Arin. 'Now that we are in the real world, we should be able to find some real information, unaffected by the false reality the distortion had wanted us all to believe in.'
'Let us go there together.'
…
Upon entering the headman's study, Siel made his way straight to the large desk at the back. Sure enough, there sat a small, round mirror beside an inkpot. Arin remembered having seen its surface glowing when he'd first entered sir Grif's office within the dream.
So that was called a contact glass, huh?
Even as Arin made his way to the other side of the desk, where a stack of documents sat neatly in a pile, he kept a discrete eye on what Siel was doing with the tool.
The boy wiped some dust off the mirror's surface with the ends of his oversized sleeves, and then picked it up and started tracing a small pattern upon the glass.
'…just have to enter the correct mark…' he was mumbling.
…so, like dialing a phone number?
'…and, done!'
The mirror in the younger magician's hands glowed with a soft light that flashed on and off, in almost the same rhythm as the beeping one would hear while waiting for their call to be answered. Arin was almost expecting to hear a ring tone, when the flashing stopped and a deep, magnetic voice sounded from the tool.
'Still alive, little Siel?'
And immediately, Arin had to hold himself back from aggressively rolling his eyes.
Siel, of course, didn't look even slightly offended by the tower master's words.
'We both are, master!' he exclaimed. He even held up the mirror to ensure that Arin – who was still standing on the other side of the desk – would be visible. Arin kept his eyes fixed on the papers before him, avoiding looking at the white-haired man reflected on the mirror's surface.
It finally made sense to Arin why most of this world's lifestyle and technology seemed vaguely similar to what he'd known from the medieval period of various civilizations in his own world. After all, who needed an industrial revolution, or to usher in a new era of technology and science, when magic seemed to serve all related purposes?
'Airplane? No thanks, we have flying, shapeshifting horses. Lightbulbs? We'll just have someone with a fire talent snap their fingers. Mobile phones? We have mirrors with an inbuilt videoconferencing function.'
Necessity, the mother of invention, had clearly not been invited to the party.
'We're facing a distortion,' started Siel.
'Mm-hmm…' the white-haired man sounded distinctly unimpressed at the reality of his students dealing with a practically mythical, highly deadly phenomenon.
The wide-eyed boy didn't dilly-dally. 'Would the people who have been drawn into a deep sleep by the distortion awaken safely once the source is destroyed?'
'No. They will die,' responded the man simply.
'How can you be so sure of that?' asked Arin, unable to hold himself back.
'I've made a guess,' the man answered in an infuriatingly flippant voice. 'All known distortions… in public record, at least… have resulted in hundreds, if not thousands of deaths. That leads me to believe that if the people have become part of the distortion, they will die with the distortion.'
After a moment, he added, 'Of course, you'll only know for certain once you do destroy the source.'
Sure, yeah. Might as well test it out with all the thousands of lives in Silvershade on the line. Thanks a lot, dude!
Still, Arin was somewhat glad he'd voiced his random guess to Siel earlier. He couldn't imagine a world where the two of them had finally steeled themselves to kill a teenager (or, more realistically, called upon whatever 'officials' Siel had mentioned, and had them do the killing instead) with the intention of saving everyone else, only to have everyone else die as well.
Siel was biting his lip. 'Then… what can we – '
'If something has worked for you, little Siel, there is no reason it will not also work for others,' said the white-haired man.
Arin furrowed his brows at his words, 'How -? Hold on, do you already know what we've been through here?'
'No, Rin,' said the man. 'You'll be surprised to find I have things to do other than spying on my disciples' performance on a simple assignment. Which reminds me, I'm rather busy working on something precisely at this very moment.'
'Take care of your junior brother. Now, if you'll excuse me…'
The mirror in Siel's hand flashed again with a bright light that wiped away the tower master's visage. Then, the light started to slowly fade away, leaving just a soft glow upon its surface.
'Speaking with master is ever so enlightening,' said Siel in an awed voice, carefully placing the mirror back down onto the desk.
And, yet again, Arin had to keep himself from rolling his eyes.