[Despite the fact that she has been here less than two months and still doesn’t know anyone especially well, rescuing missing companions is Lilias’s first thought when the looming castle comes into view through the fading mist. The gathering of the people makes their complicity obvious; it’s a damning change, considering the residents’ apparent ignorance about the whereabouts of the missing until now. To her disappointment—though not her surprise, really—it seems virtually the whole village is in on the act.
Still, she tries to argue her way through instead of forcing anything. Easier to retreat and then sneak past than to force her way through a gathering mob. She’s just begun to move away from the crowd, having failed to browbeat the men and women before her into letting her pass, when she notes Silco trying to shove his way through, attracting the ire of a farmer and the clinging objection of a local child.
She sees the farmer heft his scythe, and realizes things are about to escalate steeply.]
Sleep.
[From half a dozen paces away, her hand lifted in an unconscious gesture toward the man, she brings the smothering weight of slumber upon him. The farmer and his scythe both wobble and then crumple to the ground, completely senseless.
A few of the people blocking the road turn to her, hefting various farming tools with grim intent. The atmosphere becomes, if anything, more threatening than before.]
1
Still, she tries to argue her way through instead of forcing anything. Easier to retreat and then sneak past than to force her way through a gathering mob. She’s just begun to move away from the crowd, having failed to browbeat the men and women before her into letting her pass, when she notes Silco trying to shove his way through, attracting the ire of a farmer and the clinging objection of a local child.
She sees the farmer heft his scythe, and realizes things are about to escalate steeply.]
Sleep.
[From half a dozen paces away, her hand lifted in an unconscious gesture toward the man, she brings the smothering weight of slumber upon him. The farmer and his scythe both wobble and then crumple to the ground, completely senseless.
A few of the people blocking the road turn to her, hefting various farming tools with grim intent. The atmosphere becomes, if anything, more threatening than before.]
… Shit.