The Butterfly Effect

Missa guided them through the streets to a much larger building that resembled a church. Despite seeming like an obvious meeting point, every single one of the guards completely overlooked it. In fact, Lucas couldn’t help but feel that the guards here were more careless than they were in Alyselin—even when, by all practical means, they should be more strict. This was a village that was presumably full of the children of Fleyw Bresh, after all. All they had to be worried about in Alyselin was him, the only one to openly admit that something was wrong.

She threw the doors open and announced something to everyone there. Whatever it was, half of them went back to whatever they were doing and the other half started scrambling around the room. She gestured them all inside and closed the doors behind them, then waited for everything to settle down again.

A tall, older man walked up to the four of them. He muttered something to Missa and she said something back, the only parts Lucas was able to catch being his, Clari’s, and Sidyn’s names. The man smiled when she finished. “You’re the one Sidyn promised to get! You look to be a fine fellow. Come along, we don’t have all day! It’ll only be so long before the soldiers realize this isn’t a normal celebration!” He turned around and began walking away.

Missa filled in the gaps as they followed him. “He’s Father Nixon. He pretty much handles everything here when it comes to facing the king, but up until recently he hasn’t been interested in actually fighting anyone. Sidyn was able to talk him into that part!”

Sidyn shrugged. “It wasn’t hard after he could see all the facts for himself. This village hardly interacts with the outside world. They aren’t quite as aware of everything that’s happening around them, but after they understand it for themselves, they’re willing to take part in making a difference.”

“Just the right time, too,” Missa remarked. “I’ve been wanting to beat up those smug soldiers for a while now. They keep interrupting my fun with all of their nonsense.”

“It doesn’t seem like everyone’s that willing, though.” Lucas looked around at the other people gathered here, particularly the ones that glanced back at him with a kind of uncertainty. They didn’t think that this was the right course of action, he could tell. They thought it wouldn’t work.

Nixon was the first to say something. “They’re just wary, you see. Amitael is drawn to unrest, the call of clashing sides… Vaso warns us against awakening him. He brings the most unruly of trials and the bloodiest of battles with him, being the patron of war.”

“So you have a god of war but he’s not on your side?” Honestly, Lucas couldn’t figure out how that made sense. Didn’t they create those gods to give them peace? What peace came from a god who didn’t seem to back them during hardships?

Nixon shook his head and motioned for them all to go into another room. It was large and round with a long table in the center. The walls were decorated with innumerable painted figures, some even resembling (what Lucas assumed to be) goblins and fairies. Nixon walked along the wall, stopping to look at and name the bigger figures on it.

“Orestis is our Creator. Danai is the Light, and Eldrianna is the Darkness. Faidon, Daphni, Vaso, and Elle represent Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind. Vriuh watches over the dead, with the help of the Strings of Elements, Spirit, and Life. Amitael is not a god but an angel. Standing beside him in this position are Micah, Talmi, Coretha, Sachiel, Usiu, and several others. They don’t chose a side at all, working only to further Orestis’s plan for the world. Their treatment will not change if a person belongs to Qizar, Fleyw Bresh, or even Seothia. We are not gauged by our natural magical abilities or our lineage. According to our Commandments, we are all equal in Orestis’s eyes as long as we follow the instructions and path that He laid out for us.”

“With all due respect, Nixon,” Sidyn sighed, “we’re not here to be converted. We’re here to talk about the rebellion.”

Nixon chuckled. “Of course! Call it the priest in me. If Orestis wills me to speak, who am I to deny it? Though I daresay you Seothians could do some good to have some kind of heavenly guidance!” He sat down at the table and the rest of them followed. “Now, Lucas, I’m trusting Sidyn and Missa’s judgment about you. I’m assuming you’re going to use our men and resources well. Soon we may even be able to supply you with more, if you can prove to the rest of the village that you’re the one who will save us.”

Lucas nodded, to show his understanding. The full weight of it had yet to click—that this wasn’t another one of his personal disagreeances. He wasn’t alone anymore, but rather leading others… and that meant shouldering the blame for whatever ended up happening, too.

“We have about sixty men who are willing to fight for you at the moment,” Nixon continued. “That should be enough for the time being. There are about two hundred other men and women who are waiting to see how this all plays out first. Obviously that number itself is not enough to get you anywhere, so I have been sending letters to a pastor friend of mine, Takedon. He’s currently staying in a larger town near the edge of Tramos. It’s a mostly Seothian-born population, but with the arrival of the Commandments they have started to be persecuted. Over time they’ve grown ever more prepared to take a stand, though I have been able to tell him to talk them out of it until a proper leader has arrived. Now that you’re here, you should head over to that town and show them that it’s time to stand up for what they believe in.”

Siydn dug through his bag and pulled out his map. “Do you know where it is?”

“It isn’t anywhere you’ve been before,” Nixon mused as he moved the map closer to him and looked it over. “They’ve been under heavy occupation for quite a while. The only thing that keeps my letters going through is the fact that they look like Seothia’s hawks.”

“If they’re that closed off, how are we even supposed to get in?” Lucas asked. “Unless they’re all amazing warriors, they’re not going to be able to fight that many soldiers. For one, they’d be outnumbered. I doubt they’ve been preparing to fight for any more than a couple of years, and that’s not enough experience compared to the soldiers. They’ll just get slaughtered and, boom, rebellion’s done.”

Sidyn looked impressed. “Look at you, you might have actually started to use your brain since I left.”

Lucas glared at him in response.

“You can bring some of our men, but you shouldn’t bring any more than one or two with you,” Nixon replied, moving things along. “Takedon said that they do let certain things in; merchants are one of them, as long as they do their business and then leave. I can show you to someone who can help you get in, but he’ll need to leave just like any other merchant after he brings you in.”

“Then how are we getting out?”

“That’s something you’re going to have to decide when you get there. I know they have some way of doing it, because several of the children from that town have been brought here in case something bad ever happened there. But I know no more than that. Takedon has always been careful about what he sends to me in case a soldier sees it. He can’t write in the Old Tongue—the guards there immediately assume they’re plotting something, unlike here—so the only thing he can do is be careful and pray no one else reads it.”

“This really doesn’t sound like a good idea…” Clari mumbled with a frown. “If we get stuck there, then we’re going to get caught. Luke is never subtle. Honestly despite all the soldiers he’d probably still do the same things he always does…”

“Your lack of faith in me is astonishing,” Lucas remarked, pretending to sound hurt. Truthfully, he knew better than to deny it under most circumstances. “You know I’m only going to do that when I’m the only one that’s going to get in trouble for it. With all of you there—being the hope of almost an entire nation, even if it isn’t my own—I’ll be sure to be careful.”

“No matter what, I’m confident that you have Orestis on your side,” Nixon said. “He never wants to see His children suffer. Surely this is the right course of action.” Finally, he went back to the map and pointed to a spot near the edge of the Tramos mountains. “I believe this is around where Takedon says it is. I’ve never been there myself so I can’t say for certain, but you’ll definitely know it when you see it.”

Sidyn took the map again and looked it over. “Thank you for your help. We’ll leave as soon as—”

“Oh, please, stay the night,” Nixon interrupted. “You know they say monsters are starting to appear around here. There’s not much light left in the day. Leave tomorrow morning, when you can spend the most amount of time in Danai’s light.”

“It won’t hurt,” Lucas decided, even though the others seemed to think differently. “I mean, it’s not like we look like we’re trying to sell anything here. I know the soldiers back at Alyselin always got suspicious of people who came and went within hours.”

Missa shrugged and got up. “It does make sense. These guys don’t interfere with our lives too much but they’re certainly nosy. You three can stay with me, then we’re all together and ready to go in the morning.”

That seemed to be the end of it. They left and followed Missa back to her house, explaining something to the person who had originally greeted them while they all sat down. She eventually joined them, taking up an entire couch for herself.

“So! We’re all working together from now on,” she said. “Figured we might as well pretend like we’re gonna get to know each other, right? It seems like the three of you all knew each other for a while.”

“I’ve actually known Sidyn for a few days…” Clari mumbled. “Before that I didn’t even know he existed.”

Missa pointed at Lucas and Sidyn. “The two of you have at least known each other, then?”

“We grew up together,” Lucas replied. He paused. “But if you’re asking us questions, can I ask you one?”

“Go ahead. I—probably—won’t mind.”

“Why do you know the language of the Fleyw Bresh?”

“We call it the Old Tongue here—or everywhere, really. That’s the proper term for it. It’s the language of their goblin and fairy rulers, who were much nicer than Seothia’s being right now. Most of them use it nowadays to keep private matters private. The guards get suspicious if we say too much outside, but they’re completely fine with us using it in our homes. I knew some of it before I came here because my family practices magic, even though we were further north. I actually learned it here because I realized it makes me look more like one of them.”

Clari, eventually, asked a question of her own. “How are you able to do magic without the guards punishing you?”

“We’ve never had a reputation of making trouble, unlike some of the other magical villages around here. They’re kinda lax on the whole no-magic thing unless it seems like we’re going to start getting violent with it. Street magic hardly qualifies for anything that could hurt someone.”