The Butterfly Effect

“Here we are… Adidell’s main Palus base.” Leon nervously looked around him before handing them a piece of paper. “This is the map of the base, so long as they haven’t changed it in the years since I’ve been there. They should be keeping Nadia here, and what you’ll need to get her is—”

“Need I remind you this isn’t the first time I’ve done this,” Imena remarked. “And as long as I’m here, you don’t need to worry about either of us. I know where I’m going—all of your bases look the same.”

“Is no one else going to mention that this is supposed to be a temple for spirits..?” Enebish questioned, another sense of dread coming over them.

“The more you’ll learn about Adidell, the more you’ll realize that they enjoy hiding in plain sight,” Leon replied simply. “Surprisingly, the best way to stay hidden is to be open.”

“Well, it’s not really the main part of the temple anyway,” Imena pointed out, taking the paper from Enebish just to make sure. “They go in and out from here, which most normal people wouldn’t have a need to. Not like there’s really a need to worship animals anyway…”

That earned her a glare from both the other two, but she chose to ignore it. “Let’s get going. There’s no time to lose.”

Enebish nodded, though looked back at Leon. “Are you going to come?”

He shook his head. “I’m risking it so much already just by standing this close to it. If they saw me, then there’s barely any hope for any of us.”

“We’re going to find Nadia,” they assured him. “We’re going to bring her back safe and sound. I’m sure there’s something we can do at the end of this to make sure it never happens again, without bringing the rest of Adidell into this.”

He managed a small smile. “I hope you’re right.”

“That is, of course, assuming she’s still alright by the time we get to her,” Imena interjected. “There really is no time to lose. The longer we stay here, the more time they have with her, and the worse things are going to get.”

Now Enebish went to follow her after one last look at Leon.

They entered the temple to be greeted by dim lights, mumbled prayers, and the smell of incense. As they walked around the shrines, Imena continued to make it clear that she wasn’t impressed or humbled by any of it.

“You could probably show a little more respect,” Enebish mumbled. “You might not like it but this is important for a lot of people around here.”

“You don’t understand what a Fos is, do you?” Their silence drew a sigh out of her. “I serve the Qizarn gods—the only gods that actually exist. Animals don’t go to Vriuh’s domain. They can’t become spirits, not even as protectors. You’re all wasting your time here. With the lack of light from mortals… no wonder you’re trying in vain to hold off the shadows. All the lights that went out because Day thought there was something worth redeeming in you…”

“When you say ‘went out’...”

“I mean they died,” she shot back. “Except they don’t find their way to Vriuh like mortals do. When our lights go out, that’s it. There’s nothing left of us after darkness fills in our place. Nothing can replenish the light, yet you mortals are so interested in wasting it all anyway.”

She glanced around before pushing aside the curtain in the back of the room. “Now come on. This is where we need to be so stay quiet and follow my lead.”

Enebish nodded, making sure the cloak was up and fitted properly. Even if they couldn’t recognize their leader’s adopted child, they’d recognize that they weren’t a part of their ranks. Or at least, that’s what Leon told them. Imena had a similar cloak but she moved with the amount of confidence that suggested she thought it really made her stand out any less.

They walked along the hallway casually, moving past all the other doors and archways in favor of going in a straight line. When the dim lighting in front of them turned more into a glow and their silent footsteps were accompanied by buzzing voices, someone else noticed them.

He was tall and rather intimidating. “This section’s closed right now, kids. Go back to your parents before they start worrying about where you are.”

Imena wasn’t scared. She pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to him. “It seems you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I am no mere child—Ms. Shui asked me to come here specifically.”

“Shui’s in Rymbai territory,” he said slowly. “She has been since her kids went missing.”

“Yes, a shame of what happened to them,” she responded. Enebish couldn’t tell if it was getting out of control or exactly what she’d planned. “But is it really that hard to believe that Ms. Shui would ask someone to see what’s going on at the other bases? She heard what you acquired. I’m here to check on your progress in her place.”

“You think I’m some kind of idiot?” he growled, now giving the paper she handed him a look. “We haven’t used entry cards like this in decades. Tell me… what’s Shui’s first name?”

Now Imena had a mildly-panicked expression. Enebish, in their attempt to help, tried to think of something. They’d heard that name before. Someone in Rymbai territory, but coming from the Sands of Tratae, who had kids… one name came to mind, even if they weren’t exactly sure where they heard it from.

“Mei Shui,” they blurted before giving it a second thought.

For a chilling moment, he was silent. Then he burst into laughter. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Come in, come in! Let me just call Eliz over here to show you what we have.” He walked away and, soon, a soft sound of clicks and pauses could be heard.

Enebish beamed. “I did it!” they proclaimed as loud as they dared. “I got us in!”

“You got us caught,” Imena hissed.

“You weren’t far from it either with your outdated information.”

“Excuse me if you mortals told stories about me that threatened my well-being!” She sighed and desperately glanced around. “There’s still some time. Let’s get in and hide somewhere safe. It’s going to be a little more challenging, but it doesn’t need to be impossible.”

Their moment of pride ruined, they could do nothing but follow her. They avoided attracting anyone’s attention by staying out of sight; just as they got to somewhere she mumbled would be safe, an ear-piercing sound began, followed by several more instances of clicks and pauses.

“What is that?” They’d read all kinds of mystery novels in all types of settings. One thing none of them mentioned, for all the images they created, was such noise.

Imena put a finger to her lip. She poked her head around the corner to make sure no one was nearby before quietly answering, “It’s their code. Something they created so they didn’t have to rely on magic.”

“Isn’t magic helpful, though? Aren’t they using it in Qizar to help harvest food year round and stuff..?”

“Magic has a cost. Right now, when they require actual people to do the work, it could kill them. The people here know that and the influence of Mávri Mageía on people. They know what the children of Fleyw Bresh are capable of but they can never understand it. They’re afraid of it… and mortals tend to do desperate things when they’re afraid of something.”

“That still doesn’t make it right to hurt people,” they muttered.

“I never said it did. In fact, I agree with you. But in the age where the kingdoms are getting closer, where there’s a possibility that they could blend and be one as Orestis planned it… there are two options. They could embrace each other and their differences, or they could tear each other apart by their own fear and lack of understanding.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring..?”

“If you continue to learn more about the world, you’ll quickly find that there’s little hope left for mortals to cling to. That's a fact.” She froze when a shadow told of a nearby searcher.

Enebish, playing scenarios on their head rather than staying still, slowly and quietly got up. They etched closer into the darkness, hoping that it might mask them from whoever was looking for them. As the shadow got closer and Imena still had yet to move—barely seeming capable of a steady breath—they took the risk and grabbed her.

Something fell over in the process but, after a moment of waiting with baited breath, the clicking and pausing started again. Whatever it said, the shadow quickly faded to go fulfill its request.

It took Imena another moment to dare to say anything. “Thank you…”

“Well, you said it yourself,” they said. “I don’t really know exactly what you’re doing, but… it seems pretty important. We can’t let more lights go out.”