The Butterfly Effect

They left the next morning. They already looked like a traveling caravan; there were several wagons, and altogether there were probably about seventy men. Lucas, Clari, Sidyn, and Missa were each on their own horses in the front. While the others might have been boasting about something completely random and singing old songs to pass the time, they had a much quieter, more serious conversation going.

“I really don’t intend on getting caught there, you know,” Lucas remarked.

“It’s still better to have a plan,” Sidyn pointed out. “Or at least some kind of alibi. Who knows how well they know all of the residents and if they can spot strangers. If we can think of a reasonable excuse to be there, then we have a better chance of being able to get out of whatever mess we’re in.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“If we’re together, just leave it to me or Missa—maybe even Clari. We’ll all make a much better merchant impression than you will. If you’re on your own… you might be screwed. But you’ve got enough charasma that you should be able to think of something on the spot. The important part is that, wherever you are, you can get back out again. Hopefully we’ll be able to find Pastor Takedon before we’re caught for anything. If we do, then there’s a chance we can lose the soldiers in the crowd and hide there. But we’ll have to make sure they don’t see us.”

“And if we don’t find him?”

“Then we’re going to have to hope that we can get out of the village without giving away the entire rebellion forces.”

It was the only thing they said on the topic until they got there. About a day away from the town, the forces split up into smaller groups; Sidyn mumbled how it wasn’t a good idea from an army point of view, but it was what made them the least obvious to anyone who might be on the lookout for large groups. One of the men took a wagon and continued on the plan that Nixon had mentioned to them.

Lucas waved goodbye to the man once the four of them were inside. They started their careful stalk through the streets, keeping their heads down and only following the rest of the crowd.

“It’s around time for service,” Missa remarked quietly. “We’ll blend in easier if we head to the church with the rest of them. There’s a chance Pastor Takedon will be there, too, since he’s, you know… the pastor.” She took the lead and walked confidently until soldiers started to come into sight.

There were a few soldiers scattered around the streets and the crowds, but most of them seemed to be more interested in something else. It was different around some bigger buildings, but none had as many soldiers in front of it as the church did. At least a dozen of them were scanning the crowd from the outside, and twice as many were stationed at various places inside. For once, Lucas actually felt intimidated around them, a fear creeping in that they were all staring at him.

“They call this room the sanctuary,” Missa whispered when they entered a large room with several rows of chairs and a podium. “The sermon is spoken here. This is a place of utmost respect, so you all have to act your best—or else you’re going to have to be worrying about more than just what the soldiers think of you.”

“So, you’re going to have to tell me what my best is supposed to be here,” Lucas remarked, looking around. “Because it definitely doesn’t look like the usual Alyselin best.”

Everyone (well, aside from the soldiers) were dressed so nicely and held themselves with a certain level of elegance. It was nothing like the cheap cloaks the four of them wore and the way he knew they looked like they had no idea what they were doing here. They didn’t belong here.

Missa moaned. “Just follow my lead and be absolutely silent. We can’t expose ourselves to these people when you all can’t follow along with the simplest of hymns.”

“Can’t we just find Takedon?” He wasn’t interested in whatever Qizarn sermons looked like. They were allowed to do whatever they needed to assure themselves about the troubles of the world; that didn’t mean he cared to be a part of that understanding.

“He’s the pastor here,” she said. “More likely than not, he’s going to be preaching. There’s not enough time to catch him before service. Besides, it would be less conspicuous if we came to him afterward. Then we can mention a few bits from it and everyone else will think we came to discuss how we felt we could improve from it.”

Lucas sighed. “I guess we’re doing this. Where’s the best place to draw the least amount of attention to ourselves?”

…

It was, honestly, super hard for him to follow along. There was something about some guy and how he showed obedience; then the rest detailed how another guy showed disobedience. But somehow that disobedience was donning wax and feather wings in order to help cure his village of a plague. The speaker mentioned that he flew too high and too fast so his wings melted and he drowned, and phoenixes were created as little parts of his soul. He assumed the point of all of it is to be like the first person or face the consequences of the second, but to someone who didn’t understand where any of these references were coming from, it was hard to tell.

There was a brief moment of silence where he looked around at all of the bowed heads and closed eyes and wondered what he was supposed to be doing. Missa eventually peeked and jabbed him with her elbow before continuing, prompting him to follow the rest of them.

Finally, the pastor spoke again. “May Orestis’s light shine on all of us in the days to come.”

Lucas slowly opened his eyes until he knew that everyone else had done the same. When the chatter from the beginning had returned and people began to leave, Missa wordlessly left and walked up to the podium. The other three quickly followed her.

“That was truly inspirational,” she commented to the speaker. “Really makes you think.”

“Ah, well, I only speak what I believe Orestis wants us to hear.” He obviously wasn’t used to such blatant praise. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Is this your first service here?”

Sidyn must’ve preferred getting straight to the point and asked, “Are you Pastor Takedon?”

Understanding flashed through the speaker’s face and he nodded. “So you’re here for penance?” he continued rather loudly, giving a nervous glance at the soldiers. “Let me show you to my office! It’ll be nice and quiet, just us, the gods, and your sins…”

Takedon gestured for them to follow him into a much smaller room. He locked the door behind him, but remained quiet. “Nixon sent you, right?”

Lucas nodded. “He said that your town was willing to fight, and I’m the person he trusted with doing it.”

“That’s wonderful news! Aside from the fact that some of the townspeople have already started…” Takedon quickly trailed off. “See, a couple of days ago, a small group went to one of the barracks and tried killing the soldiers. They succeeded in one or two of them, but they were ultimately captured. The soldiers are on even higher alert than usual since the incident, and we hardly have anything to fight back with. They took nearly everything that could be used against them, and only a handful of us can use magic. From the looks of it you don’t even have anything to defend yourself with, let alone save the rest of us…”

“But would you say there’s still some fighting spirit left in them?” Lucas asked. He wasn’t willing to accept this as a defeat just yet.

“There’s plenty,” Takedon responded. “I daresay there might even be more than before. It seems everything the soldiers do to try to knock them down only ends up riling them up more. But all we have are words, and as powerful as I believe they can be, they can’t help us here…”

Lucas smirked. “Are you sure about that? You’re looking at the guy who accidentally sent a bunch of villagers out with torches and pitchforks! Imagine what I can do when I actually try!”

Clari sighed at the fact and Sidyn mumbled something that sounded like “Good sentiment, bad example.” Takedon and Missa both looked like they didn’t know if they wanted to be impressed or slightly concerned. Either way, Lucas took it all to mean that they were willing to hear more about his idea.

“Is there any place where a bunch of people are going to be there at once? Do you have a town square or something?”

“The best place for that would be here but I’m sure most of them have left by now… they might find peace in the Commandments but they don’t tend to stay any longer than they have to. They’re afraid of what could happen to them if they do.”

“What about the area with the most open space? Somewhere where a lot of people can gather together and listen to what I have to say.”

Takedon stayed quiet for a little while before finally nodding. “I think I know a good spot. But you’re going to have to be careful. The gods don’t watch over those who foolishly rush ahead of themselves.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Lucas assured him—and everyone else, really—as he got up and led them all back out of his office. “This is gonna be a piece of cake.”

Takedon showed them to a wide, open area. At one point in time, it probably would’ve been a perfect marketplace; there was easily enough room for dozens of stalls and there were already plenty of stores. But in the closed-off state the village was in now, it housed only the few merchants that could get past and what little local businesses that could survive. Most importantly, however, was that there were enough people for his plan to work.

Lucas turned to the others. “The four of you should get to the edge of town and leave if you can. I’m going to be making some noise and it’s best if you all are as far away from any possible action as you can be. Be ready to take the men stationed outside and leave.”

“I’m trusting that this is going to be a good idea,” Clari mumbled. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

Then he turned back around and strode right into the center of the plaza. He gave them a minute to get going before he started his rally cry.

“How long has this town been under the watchful eye of the soldiers? How long have they ruined the livelihood of all of those who were there first? How long has the line been drawn between this town and the outside world, the oppressors keeping you from even so much as stepping outside and out of their supervision?”

It was already gathering a mixed crowd. Some of the people who had been there before were now paying attention to him, and a good handful of those people were soldiers. He didn’t back down, though, and he knew this was not the time to be afraid.

“You’ve been looking for a way out. You’ve been hoping that you’ll be able to escape from this, or that someone else will come and help you. Well, good news! That day’s right here. I know things are looking bad for you. There’s soldiers wherever you look, more than ready to beat you down at the slightest of misdemeanors. They took away everything you thought you could fight with, they’re trying to crush your spirits so you finally obey the king's orders. Are you going to let them try to take control of you like that?”

There was a moment when it was silent. Finally, someone stepped out of the crowd to shout, “No!”

“Exactly! You might not have swords or magic, but that doesn’t mean you’re defenseless. Don’t let them discourage you with their armor and weapons. If there’s one thing they’re not prepared for, it’s a town willing to stand up for what they believe in and give it their all! So grab your brooms, your stools, even those old sheets! Use your fists! Show them that you are not going to let them beat you down anymore!”

A victorious cry sounded from all around him and he knew his job was done. As much as the soldiers tried, there was nothing they could do to stop the people now. Lucas proudly watched his work unfold until a hand pulled him away from the action.

“Hey!”

“Shhh,” the young woman hissed. “You shouldn’t stay here. I don’t know who you are, but you bring hope with you. Keep it alive by letting us handle the rest. It won’t do well for you to die or get captured in the very same fight you convinced us all to join.”