The Butterfly Effect

He didn’t tell any of them the exact details of what happened. None of them even knew that he left that night, let alone what he did. It seemed the only thing he needed to tell them was “There’s actually something else I want to see before we head back.” They unquestionably followed him to the center of town, where an age-old weeping willow was still thriving.

This was another spot where the sense of being here before overwhelmed him. He thought of how children would dare to see who could climb the highest; their laughter that brought about contagious happiness. The town was once alive here, and the tree bore witness to all of its going-ons. If only it would be more fond of sharing its secrets. How many stories would it be able to tell? What kinds of things did it overhear in its uncountable days of being here?

There were five branches that hung lower than the rest. These were what Imre pointed to as he gave his instructions. “Samone, you’re the one over there. Lydia, you’re right beside her. Dimas, you’re on her other side. Kiah, stand by Lydia. I’ll be in the one spot that’s left.” He assumed that, looking from the air, their position would have resembled a star.

It was clear from their expressions that this, at least, was familiar to them. He could definitely feel it; something in the back of his head telling him what to do. Not from one person to another as advice, but as if he’d done it all before. Who that person was or where it came from, though, was completely lost on him.

“Look up at the stars and think about what they represent,” Imre mumbled. He walked up to the tree and placed his hand on it. “The Bear watches from its place in the sky all year. Some kind of reminder, perhaps, of a higher power observing every action of mortals.”

Dimas was the next to follow. “With the Rabbit comes the promise of spring. It brings hope that there might be something better just around the bend.”

Kiah imitated their movements. “The Eagle rises with the summer sun. However many dangers it brings with it, it’ll always rise above mortal problems.”

Lydia was more than a little excited to come up too. “As the leaves change, so do the stars to reveal the Cat. It guides the way as creatures migrate to warmer places before the first snow.”

Samone took a couple of minutes to do anything at all. Finally, she joined the rest of them by the tree. “The Fox reveals itself in the coldest months of the year. It warns of what secrets might be lurking in the New Year.”

It was like a spark after that. Imre had never seen “street magic,” as the children of Fleyw Bresh called it, aside from a few displays by Dimas and Samone when they were younger. That, though, had consisted of short bursts of an element or small illusionary objects.

None of that could compare to the light show now.

All manner of colors burst from the tree, strips of the light breaking off and chasing each other through the village. Many of them disappeared only to return a few moments later, dancing through the sky and weaving between objects. Everything came alive when they passed through, and soon the entire place felt vibrant again.

Maybe a bit more vibrant than it should be: were it not for the cold breeze, he would’ve assumed they were further south. By now in every other mountainous town, more of a chill would’ve sunk in and all the spring blooms would go into hiding again. But that didn’t seem to stop these flowers, bursting into color just to defy nature.

“It’s like they’re congratulating us for something,” Lydia remarked. Having experienced the ends of many ruins with her father, she was likely the best person to say anything. “I wonder how long it’s going to last… and what we did to trigger it. All we did was stand here and talk.”

“I’m not really sure of what we did, but I know it was something important.” Imre knew how it must’ve sounded; the one that had insisted on going here, staying the night, then doing this didn’t even know exactly why. There was nothing to really defend his reasoning, aside from the obvious excuse he could say if they ever asked. Not like they would question it out loud.

“I get this is pretty and everything, but I’d really rather not stay long,” Kiah decided. She was the first to actually step away from the tree, wandering back to the streets. “Who knows what kind of mess we’ll get ourselves into.”

“I think you should be more worried about the mess we just got ourselves in,” Dimas corrected thoughtfully. “Nothing more is going to happen. If there was something to set off, we would’ve just done it.”

“Then let’s hope we didn’t wake a demon,” Kiah sighed. “I can figure out what Minne knows about it when we get back home.”

…

Everyone else decided they had better things to do when they returned to Mathieu’s estate. Kiah disappeared into town with Lydia soon following her, though undoubtedly to different places. Samone stayed inside for a little while before escaping to the most out-of-the-way part of the estate. Dimas went to his room to write to his sister. That left Imre alone to explain everything to do with their little trip.

“So you’re, uh, not completely ticked off at me, right?” Mathieu took a sip from his wine glass. “I didn’t think you could actually get mad at anybody. Minne didn’t make it sound like you did, anyway.”

“It depends on how much crap I’m going to put up with,” Imre replied rather casually. “Being my mother, she’s figured out when that’s most likely to happen and forgets it actually happens at all.”

“Mothers do tend to see nothing but their precious, innocent little child,” Mathieu agreed. “It’s just a bit alarming when you’re minding your own business until the prince is about ready to punch you for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s especially alarming knowing that, while Samone’s probably stronger than you, you’d effortlessly beat me up.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “I really don’t want to know what Kiah’s playful shoves feel like. She might be short but I have no doubts she could win against all of us if she wanted to.”

Imre gave a nod and small smile to the thought.

“Well, I’m sure Minne will be glad to see you again,” Mathieu remarked. “You got out and about, which must’ve been what she wanted.”

“I have a feeling the reunion’s going to be bittersweet,” Imre mumbled. “I doubt we only figured out what she wanted us to. I might have more questions than she’ll be willing to give answers to…”

“Minne? Really? She’ll answer any question you ask her! I daresay she’d talk about stuff that isn’t even related to it!” Mathieu took another sip, then sat the empty glass on the table beside him.

“You know I’m there for dinner almost every night,” Imre muttered. “Amorous bantering aside, the two hold rather interesting conversations on occasion. They hardly pay attention to the fact that I’m there, while still acknowledging the presences of Samone and, when they’re there, Lydia, Kiah, and Dimas. I’ve heard conversations that I’m sure weren’t meant to be talked about right in front of me. But never in all those conversations was the idea of Mother’s family expanded on besides ‘the youngest of five in a small mountain village.’”

“There probably just wasn’t a reason—“

“The conversations purposely moved away from the topic. It was never because she started getting visibly anxious about the matter; none of us are that bad at hiding our true emotions. Only hearing it once or twice, one could easily assume it naturally swayed away from it. But I’ve heard enough to know better. It always turns out that way. There’s a mutual understanding between the two of them, but they don’t let it go any further than that. Quite frankly the only thing anyone’s ever mentioned before now is that wood carving Takane made. That’s only because I happened to be around a few servants while they were talking about it, not because I was told. Up until that point I didn’t even realize it was a gift meant for me.”

Mathieu had nothing left to say; it seemed he’d already exhausted his ideas, and he wasn’t willing to fight for what he already had. Acknowledging defeat, he shrugged. “I can’t claim to have the answers you want. My father looks over this territory, not me. I could’ve gone my whole life without realizing we once looked over that village, if he hadn’t told me the king’s request.”

“I’m assuming I don’t need to remind you how unprepared that makes you sound as the heir?” Imre meant it in an honest way; call it his way of giving off-handed advice, understanding everything that would need to go into governing a territory.

“Can you blame me?” Mathieu sighed. “Do you know how hard it is to find anyone who has the faintest idea of what Idale is, let alone where it used to be? It’s been some thirty years since anyone’s really lived there. Lyron was born there, that much is true, but his family moved out when he was seven. Ferrel and Xuan just barely knew what it was. I’m honestly glad you didn’t ask for stories about Minne. None of them would’ve been able to say any more than ‘a mysterious, but always happy girl with red hair.’ Turns out both her guardian and brother were very keen on making sure no one knew she existed.”

“Then I suppose no one’s told you why it became abandoned?”

Mathieu shook his head. “All I know is that there was a mass migration of sorts. Something happened and everyone either disappeared or moved away. After so many years of being considered a ghost town, it’s not worth counting as a village we controlled. It got taken off of our maps and was soon forgotten completely.”

Understanding that he’d already revealed every detail he had, Imre got up. “Thank you for your time. We’ll probably be leaving tomorrow morning, as long as everyone’s ready for it. Is there anything else left for us before then?”

“No, you’ve already gone above and beyond what was expected. Have a safe trip back to the castle. Skiá are awfully fond of these paths at night.”