Chapter 34 - The Director

The night was long and the work was hard. Holly learned running back and forth in the same spot for hours could work up a significant sweat. She regretted abandoning her spare clothes in Ralevi. Also not buying new clothes before all the physical activity she was doing tonight.

Her jacket was tied around her waist as she continued moving supplies around the booth.

“Yes chef!” she shouted when Solana barked an order.

Wait… why the hell did she do that?

She wasn’t Solana’s Resonator. Holly could literally just walk away and there was nothing the Maestro could do to stop her.

But… she felt bad.

There was something about the trio that was bothering her. A nagging curiosity that refused to let her leave them alone. They were very small things that poked and prodded at her, pestering the little zalavan.

Something was wrong with them – not like they were bad people… just something. It wasn’t so obvious that she could just come out and say it.

What was it?

Even if knowledge was no longer her strong stave, it was still quite potent, and refused to let her have peace until she figured it out.

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“Good work everyone!” Solana cheered as they closed up shop.

The crowds had finally thinned out and only a few stragglers remained behind, but even they were heading off for the night.

Holly let out a big sigh, plopping to the ground where she was. It had been a very long night – all three of her fellow stallmates were coated in a thick sweat just like she was, but they cleaned up their traveling kitchen and remained in high spirits.

Solana stopped what she was doing and knelt next to the plant. From the bag at her waist, she drew a big wad of paper cash. Holly was too tired to address the Maestro, so she just watched the woman count off a stack of bills.

“Here you go,” Solana said with a smile, offering the money to the plant.
“How much?” Holly replied.

“There are four of us and we made sixteen hundred tonight, so your share is four hundred.”

Wait, that didn’t seem right.

“Why?” asked Holly.
“Huh?” Solana tilted her head, frowning. “What do you mean dear?”
“I didn’t do that much. Why are you giving me so much? Don’t you have supply costs?”

Solana chuckled. “Oh no dear, the MA Office pays us to be here. Having good food vendors incentivizes hunters to come out here, even if they have to pay for it,” she explained.

It was another thing Riterran society did to make sure Scherzando were dealt with before they became a problem, before they grew.

“Okay, but why do I get such a big cut?” Holly questioned.

Again, Solana wore her confusion openly. “Well, if you split sixteen into four even parts, that is four.”

“I know how to do math. Why do I get an equal share? I’m not your Resonator. You barely know me. We met this morning.” Holly couldn’t help the mounting frustration – this didn’t make sense, it was too suspicious, Maestros weren’t this generous.

Solana could only return suspicion with concern; she looked down at the still-offered money with dejection. “I just want to pay you your share,” she repeated.

Holly ruffled her grass in frustration – she hated circular conversations like this.

“Keep your money,” she snapped before getting up and leaving.

The nature element tuned out the protests she left behind, their pleas fell on deaf ears. She wasn’t about to let herself get attached, not again, not so soon.

She blocked out everything, everyone; she wasn’t going to hear it.

Unfortunately, she did hear… him.

“There you are, our little flower pot.”

Her heart froze. The way the voice clawed into her brain like a worm instantly extinguished her fiery rage and instead put her on full alert.

Before her stood a man underneath the light of a street lamp. He was in a full business suit, hair neat and tidy, shoes shined to a mirror-like finish. He held himself in high regard, radiating a sense of self-importance that was difficult to ignore.

“Flowerpot?” Holly breathed, glaring down this strange human. It hit her. “You’re Mr. Noel!” she fired off her accusation.

The man chuckled. “No, I am one of the Rene Group’s directors – here to pick up our lost package.” He pointed square at the zalavan. “Come with me, or else.”

“Tch, or else what?” Holly wasn’t scared – she had ultimate magic on her side. What could a mere Maestro do in the face of such power?

The man chuckled. “I was hoping you’d resist. After all, I went through the effort of bringing this all the way here.” He lifted a tuner, one lacking color.

“No color?” Holly furrowed her brow. The director didn’t move, his smile eerie, calm, too calm. She slowly untied her jacket and put it on properly. He allowed it, still with that creepy grin on his smug face.

Holly slowly pushed her hand into her bag of seeds, her eyes darting back and forth – where was his Resonator?

She wished she hadn’t thought of that. From behind the man walked a Resonator. He was quite large, a little lanky, somewhere between Rob and Lee’s musculature. Strange tree branch-like horns crowed the Resonator with long furred ears poking out from either side of its head. The Resonator’s hair was messy, wild, and untamed. The clothes it wore were tattered, though it wore no shoes – it was like it had never changed.

It wasn’t the wild nature of the Resonator that stuck in Holly’s soul. It was the pitch-black eyes that shone like marbles under the limited light. The way the Resonator stared, it felt like she was being run through by a sword.

Everything in her was screaming to run. This THING wasn’t right.

“Wh-what did you do?” Holly pointed at the director.

“I did nothing flowerpot.” His grin was wide, arrogant. “Of course, you wouldn’t recognize what this is – the only Resonator truly worthy of the moniker ‘mirage’ – a cryptid.”

Her mind returned nothing. What in the world was a cryptid? She had never even heard that word before.

This Resonator was unsettling and horrifying, and yet it had been bound to a tuner. How was a force of nature like this subjugated so easily?

“Not Deer,” spoke the director. The creature stirred. “Lanciafiamme, Forte.”

The battle began in an instant. Rather than forming fire in its hands other Resonators did when they cast magic, the Not Deer opened its mouth and a stream of fire was expelled like a hose.

“MOVE!” Holly screamed at herself. Her eyes glowed bright blue as she dove out of the way. She had to fight back. Water magic graced her fingertips “Precipitazioni Frontali, Accelerando!” With her free hand, she shot a blue orb into the sky and clouds began to gather.

“Lanciafiamme, Forte,” the director repeated his previous order. The Not Deer heeded the command lurching back before thrusting his head forward, unleashing another spray of deadly flames.

Holly didn’t need to dodge this attempt as a rainstorm started, snuffing out the expelled flames before they could reach her. Now she could begin her counterattack. “Idrante, Fortissimo!” Where fire had once danced through the air, water now charged back its opposite.

“Corrente Elettrica, Fortissimo.”

Idrante evaporated as lightning licked away the water element spell, and traced back to its caster. Holly flew back from the force of the blow, eyes wide as electricity coursed through her body. Since when could other Resonators switch elements?

“Quite potent indeed,” she heard the man’s smug appraisal of the situation. No, she was just caught off guard.

She’d catch him off-guard with ultimate magic. One apple seed was all she needed, and he gave her plenty of time to draw it as he slowly approached.

Sure, this was probably going to end lethally, but there was something fundamentally wrong with that cryptid thing. She felt no remorse for what she was about to do.

It approached first; unbothered, unfazed. It towered over the fallen plant, staring with its pitch-black eyes.

Holly thrust a hand up. “Scintilla di Civiltà, Ultrissimo!” she cried. The apple seed bestowed her with a mighty gift in her unworthy hands. She pledged herself to conquer the foe who stood before her – with the power she now possessed.

Flames tore from the nature element’s hand, hot searing flames that could melt entire civilizations, and the Not Deer was caught up in its wrath point blank. Holly spent every drop of ultimate rhythm the apple seed gave her.

And in the end…

The Not Deer stood, as if tousled by a stiff breeze.

Her head began to spin. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. This was a waking nightmare. “H-how…? That spell destroys anything made by civilization…” Holly uttered.

“Cryptids aren’t wrought by civilization – they are birthed from rumor and myth,” the director spoke. “Though I would appreciate it if you stop wasting those apple seeds. They’re quite precious.”

She felt faint. This was too much. This was all too much. Who had she made an enemy of? To wield this kind of unnatural power.

Her mind raced. Her vision clouded. She couldn’t take it anymore. Just as it all went black, she heard one final shout.

“Saldatura ad Arco, Legato!”