The Butterfly Effect

He had, admittedly, never left Alyselin on his own before. He’d gone out of town with his father or with the rest of his siblings, but he’d never been the one to handle the map. So suffice to say he didn’t get too far before Sidyn and Clari caught up to him and he was grateful when Sidyn took up guiding them.

They got to the village a day later. Sidyn maintained the lead and weaved through the crowd, occasionally checking to make sure the other two were still following him.

“Keep your head down,” he muttered over his shoulder. “As you can probably tell, there’s a lot of unsavory people around here. You’ll be fine as long as you stick with me and don’t draw any attention to yourselves.”

“Can you at least tell me what we’re doing now that we’re here?” Lucas prompted.

“We’re meeting a representative,” Sidyn replied simply. “If she thinks you’re what we need, then she’ll show us to the others.”

“If she doesn’t?”

“Then we’re going to have to hope she doesn’t sell us out to the soldiers and we’ll have to find someone else to help us.”

He didn’t sound reassuring and he wasn’t trying to be. If there was one thing that Sidyn was always good at, it was getting right to the point. He seemed to have little consideration about what everyone wanted or sometimes even needed to hear. Perhaps that was part of the reason he came to Lucas—who was known for talking his way in and out of all sorts of things—instead of leading the rebellion himself. He was, at least, the kind of person who would only get someone else to do it for him if he had no other option.

It got harder to follow Sidyn as the crowd started to get thicker. They weren’t all just walking, either; they were gathered around to watch something. Lucas had grown to associate these kinds of gatherings with bad things. In Alyselin, if so many people gathered together and the soldiers didn’t intervene, it was usually because of a new decree from the king or, even worse (though he only remembered seeing one), a public execution. And Sidyn was leading them right into the source of it.

Lucas was not any more worried or relieved to see a phoenix fly out of the crowd. Especially not when he watched as it twirled in the air, let out a victorious cry, then turn to ashes.

Clari seemed to feel the same. “What’s a phoenix doing here? They don’t usually come this close to people, do they..?”

“It’s not real,” Sidyn explained, “it’s magic.” He pushed through the rest of the crowd and gestured to the young woman in the center. “Lucas, Clari, this is Missa. She’s the person we’ve got to impress.”

“That is the person who’s going to show us to the group that’ll help us?” Lucas kept staring, wondering if perhaps there was someone else that Sidyn was talking about instead. “She’s younger than all of us!”

Besides only looking eighteen or so, she was also very obvious. She kept creating illusionary objects and showing them to the crowd. Her dress stood out and marked her as someone from a relatively wealthy family, and nothing hid her blonde hair. Even Lucas knew the importance of blending in with a crowd when he was doing anything that could very well get him executed.

Sidyn completely ignored him and walked up to her. After he mumbled something to her, she waved the crowd goodbye and uttered a farewell Lucas couldn’t understand. She walked off, but Sidyn went back to the other two.

“We’re going to meet her in her house,” he explained, then turned around and gestured for them to follow him.

“Just to make sure, she does speak our language, right?” Lucas asked as they walked.

“She’s Seothian, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sidyn replied.

“Seothians don’t have magic,” Clari pointed out slowly. “Can she really have magic and not be a child of Fleyw Bresh?”

Sidyn answered as if it was common sense. “We all have some kind of magic in us. The amount that we’re naturally able to wield depends on factors like our lineage and birthplace, but, besides that, Seothians can be just as powerful as a child of Fleyw Bresh. Missa is from a rich family further north. I don’t believe she has any relation to the children of Fleyw Bresh at all.”

“If she has no connection to the Fleyw Bresh, then why does she speak their language?” Lucas was aware that it wasn’t so much as the language of the Fleyw Bresh as it was the language of their previous rulers; most of them (or at least the few that he and his family have met) seemed to have been raised to speak the same language as the Seothians.

Sidyn shrugged as he stopped at one of the houses. “That’s something you’re going to have to ask her.” He knocked on the door three times and someone completely different opened the door.

That person and Sidyn had some unintelligible conversation before they let the three of them in.

Lucas thought of one more important question as they all sat down in what looked to be the dining room. “You know their language?”

“I traveled to Fleyw Bresh. They’re much more willing to talk and help someone who can hold a casual conversation.” Sidyn acted as if it was nothing special at all. “They keep it up for formality’s sake. You won’t have to worry, they’ll all speak our language when you’re talking to them.”

They waited long enough for Lucas to take in the oddities of the room around them. None of the decorations were familiar to him; they were either all written in a language he couldn’t read, quoted something he’d never heard of, or simply made no sense to him. He didn’t know much about the Fleyw Bresh, aside from the fact that they were a religious, tradition-following people who usually had no interest in fighting at all. Through stories he’d learned how they find fire redemptive, and how they believe the phoenix is a boy who could never be redeemed enough. He knew they had gods, but he couldn’t recall any of their names. Some of those names, he realized, must have been on the walls around him; Orestis, Danai, Eldrianna… but some were just as simple as Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind as if they had no other name.

The young woman from the crowd came out from another room, taking a seat opposite to all of them. “You said you’d only be bringing back one possible leader, Sidyn,” she remarked, tilting her head. “Which one is it, and why’s the other here?”

“It’s best to start with proper introductions,” Sidyn decided. “Missa, this is Lucas and Clari. Lucas is the leader, Clari is just his fiancée who chose to come with us. Lucas and Clari, this is Missa. She’s the representative of that group I told you about.”

Missa squinted at both of them. “That still doesn’t solve much. Remember the part where he told you that this wasn’t something to be introducing to a lot of people? I don’t think he’s gonna be happy to know that you brought along two people and one of them isn’t even gonna be important.”

“Call her an extra recruit,” Sidyn said. “She isn’t going to be leading anyone, sure, but she’ll definitely be useful somehow.” He leaned a bit closer to Lucas and muttered, “This is the part where you talk about the things that make your fiancée worth keeping around.”

Lucas let out an audible “oh” before actually starting. “Clari’s a great cook. Before I met her, she made most of the baked goods provided in a royal ball. She’d definitely be able to help cook for a large group.”

“I don’t know how to fight,” Clari mumbled, ignoring his glare. “I won’t slow you down, though. I have experience keeping up the pace with whoever I’m traveling with, and like Luke said I have a reputation as a baker.”

“Has the king seen you? Would he be able to recognize you if you happened to come across him?” Missa seemed to have some kind of interest now; whether that was a good thing or not was a completely different question.

Clari shook her head. “If he does, it’s as Ms. Oberon or ‘the one who cooked that one time.’ Either way I have no negative reputation among them.”

“Is… that important? Having a good reputation with the king..?” Lucas asked hesitantly. “Because I’m kinda known around my town as the troublemaker. I was about to be arrested for breaking too many offenses when Sidyn came and talked me into coming here.”

Missa blinked and mumbled something incomprehensible. “Sidyn, are you stupid? We’re trying to kill the king here, not get caught as soon as we step into the capital!”

“I know he looks immature and foolish—“

“Hey, I’m right here!”

“—but he’s the best person I can think of for the job. There may be better fighters or a few a bit more obscure, but none are as good of a leader as he is. He’s been doing the same thing for as long as I’ve known him. A part of what you’re looking for is someone who isn’t going to change sides when it proves difficult. I have full confidence that Lucas won’t turn on those ideals now.” The only thing keeping Sidyn from sounding completely emotionless was the hint of confidence in his tone.

Missa thought about it for a moment. “I guess that either makes him really brave or incredibly stupid.” She turned to someone else in the room and said something Lucas couldn’t understand. It sounded like a command of some sort. She held her hand out to him and said triumphantly, “Welcome to the rebellion, Lucas!”

Once they shook hands, the person that had greeted Sidyn came out and gestured for them to follow. Missa did the same, taking the lead as they walked back into the streets.

“There’s just one last thing we need to do,” she explained. “We need to meet with my boss. He’ll get you caught up on everything we know and what we do after this.”