The Butterfly Effect

He’d just been passing by when he saw Lydia opening the door to Imre’s office. Natheniel had, for a moment, considered telling her that the king didn’t want any visitors right now, but he decided just to let it play out.

“I’ve got some really good news!” she announced before she was even two steps into the room. Natheniel stopped by the door to listen, figuring that no one would be passing by this hallway for a while.

“You found a solution to the whole Skiá issue?” Imre guessed dryly, sounding distracted.

“I wish, just because it would get you out of this boring office. But it’s still good!” She paused, and it sounded like she probably took the paper out of his hand. “Ellie just sent me a letter saying that we’re actually going to be able to meet up this year!”

“Enn, you really shouldn’t…”

“Come on! It’s been over ten years since we’ve all been able to get together. This should be a good thing, not an I’m-going-to-ruin-everything thing.”

“Can you look at the paper you took from me? How, in any way, do you think that encouraging groups under these circumstances is a good idea?”

It sounded like Lydia snorted. “You’re overthinking it. These reports don’t even go into that much detail, see? It could be a couple of wolves for all you know.”

“You’re missing the point here. This isn’t the right time for this. They’re attracted to large crowds because large crowds mean there’s more to eat; a gathering as big as that would be a feast for them.” His level tone broke only for a moment when he hopelessly mumbled, “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“We’ll all be fine. If it’ll help any, I’m not going to be bringing Tavin with me. For one, I might get ever so slightly drunk while I’m there and he’s too young to have to deal with that. Second, he’s not close to any of them and would just be my shadow all evening. Lastly, he’d generally not be comfortable there and I’m sure he’d rather be here reading.”

That seemed to end the conversation, though not because it satisfied Imre to hear it. There was something more that he was worried about, and Natheniel wished he could’ve asked about it and been given any sort of real answer…

…

It had been a day since Lydia announced her news to Imre, and had declared it at dinner that evening to the rest of the council. No one seemed to share or voice the same concerns as Imre, maybe out of ignorance of the matter, and they all went about the rest of their day as if nothing was different. Natheniel had wandered into the garden to pass the time.

He’d simply picked up a stick and started swinging it around. Ihu was perched on the tree beside him; they always stayed by him, so he wasn’t worried that they’d fly away. He’d be more worried if they got lost—it wouldn’t be the first time that someone mistook them for a bird that should be outside, or looked over them completely due to their small size.

Natheniel only realized other people were in the garden when he heard his name. They were unaware of him, since he learned a few years later that they would never talk about such things if they knew he was present.

“He isn’t being thrown out there,” Imre reinstated firmly. “He isn’t even thirteen yet. There’s still a lot he needs to learn…”

“Age isn’t a factor,” Kiah remarked bluntly. “We’ve been losing people all over the kingdom to the Skiá. The kid’s our one chance at saving everything—with him, everything can be over before anyone else needs to get hurt. Isn’t that the whole reason he’s here?”

“He’s still my son—”

“You’re risking everything else to keep him here. Shouldn’t we actually make the risk worth taking?”

“Kiah, please. Imre has a point here; he’s not going to be ready to stand against them.” Samone had to be the calmest of the three, simply stating what she clearly believed to be the truth. “I’ll be the first to say it, I’m impressed by how far he’s come along in the past few years, but he’s not ready for this.”

“You’re not getting Natheniel. You’re going to have to figure out how to hold out a little longer.” It sounded like Imre was beginning to walk away, but something must have stopped him; Natheniel wasn’t confident enough to move to a position where he could see them, knowing that they’d likely be able to see him too.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t supply an extra pair of hands,” Samone added thoughtfully. “If you had someone to handle part of the backend work, then more of your soldiers can work on actually defending. Tavin would be a nice fit for a role like that; in a few more years he’d know enough to teach half the classes at Missa-Sidyn, and he already spends a lot of time organizing the library. As long as it’s a gradual change, I’m sure he'll adjust to the job well.”

“Here I thought you’d stick with Imre through and through on this.” Kiah sounded impressed, and he could imagine her smirking. “You’re even helping me out.”

Imre sighed. “Lydia wouldn’t mind it, but still…” The fact that it sounded like he was agreeing with the idea made Natheniel furious.

Even Zofie would admit that he was improving! Kiah said that he could save them! So why didn’t they want him out there? He would be able to hold his own in a fight; he could blast a bad guy away with his magic, cut down anyone who got too close with his sword. He was strong enough to do it! Being able to help his guardians and make them happy was what he wanted most, but he couldn’t do that if they never gave him the chance. And who was the one to get that chance instead of him? Tavin, the one who seemed so talentless that his only redeeming quality was his smarts and his ability to dodge everything! Why did it feel like there was some unspoken rule that meant he got to get everything that Natheniel wanted, as if everyone’s goal was to spite him?

He was forced out of his thoughts when he saw Ihu fly past him. The bird, as if only now seeing the familiar faces nearby and deciding to greet them, flew in the direction of the adults and let out a happy little chirp.

“Is Natheniel around here somewhere, then?” Imre sounded concerned, almost. “Ihu wouldn’t be here by themself, and they wouldn’t just fly out of an open window either…”

To keep himself from getting caught, Natheniel carefully went a little further into the garden. It must’ve worked, because they just gave the obvious areas a quick glance without really making it look like it mattered if he was there or not. When they left and took Ihu inside, he followed after a minute. He slipped into the servant’s hallways to get into his room first, safely getting there before any of them came.

When he heard the birdsong, he opened his door and whistled; Ihu flew to his shoulder, and he explained to Samone—who’d been the one to find him and bring his bird back, it seems—that he’d forgotten to call then when he left earlier that morning, so they must’ve stayed in the garden until then. She may not have believed it, but she didn’t question him further.

“Don’t do that again!” Natheniel hissed after he’d shut his door again. Ihu gave a single tweet that seemed more defiant than remorseful. “That’s it, you’re not getting anything for dessert.” He almost regretted it, with the sad look they were giving him.

He let them off on their perch and went over to his bed. “What part of that… do you think they didn’t want me to hear?” It was a quiet question, but he always felt better saying those kinds of things out loud. For some reason it just made him feel like something was listening, whether that “something” was Ihu or even his own shadow. “Besides the fact that they’re gonna let Tavin do what Imre won’t let me do.”

Instinctively, he touched his feather necklace. The gift seemed to be a reminder of their love for him. There was something about it that felt comforting, like it kept the darkness away. But it wasn’t something that he was believing in right now. He could never understand what they truly wanted for him. How could he, when they never made any mention of it and seemed to allow the same things to other people?

What compelled him to solemnly take it off was something he didn’t think to justify. He just thought, “What if I didn’t have to follow all their orders?” It was arguably the most dangerous thought he’d ever have.

Natheniel didn’t come down for dinner, instead feigning sleep; his feather necklace was hidden away in a box under his bed, safe from anyone noticing it. By the time he heard Lydia’s voice across the hall announcing her departure to her son, he was already almost asleep. There was some sort of commotion that happened a little while later, but he truly fell asleep without even questioning what was causing all the fuss.