The Butterfly Effect

The rest of that afternoon was spent trying to convince everyone to go. Samone had decided she wasn’t going to fight it before he even got to the part of telling everyone else. Lydia saw the opportunity for an adventure and was all for it. Dimas, initially, was a bit hesitant until he saw how determined Imre was to go. Kiah had apparently stayed up late drinking the night before and had yet to completely sober up (it was ultimately decided that she’d just go anyway and get no say in the matter).

After that, he told Mathieu about their plans and they left the next morning.

“It’s not too far from here,” Imre assured them. “Just a little longer.”

“Remind me again why this matters?” Kiah was never one to hold back thoughts, at least not completely. There was something in her tone that hinted she knew more about this than she was letting on, and she very well could’ve. “If you had to do that much to find out where this place is, shouldn’t that tell you nothing’s gonna be here?”

“I don’t know what I think is there but I know there has to be something,” he responded absently. “It’s hard to explain. There’s not just going to be nothing there. Trust me.”

They must’ve thought he couldn’t hear the hushed conversation that followed, despite how close together they were.

“Kiah, quit complaining,” Samone hissed. “Believe it or not, that’s the look of someone actually interested in something.”

“Really? ‘Cause that looks like someone slowly dying on the inside.” Kiah paused. “Make that someone who’s already dead.”

“There’s something else running through his head besides the other stuff,” Lydia mumbled. “That’s a good thing.”

It took Dimas a while to contribute anything. “I’m not sure if this is what we’re really here for, but it’s doing what Minne wanted it to.”

Once they all said their piece, there was nothing left to discuss on the matter. A kind of eerie silence fell over them, adding to the chilly familiarity of the place they soon entered.

Nothing would have alerted the average passerby that something was there if it weren’t for the trees; the pines had yet to retake the path, at least not completely. All of it told of a place that once was but was no more. Even the calls of the birds seemed hurried, as if they wanted nothing more than to get away from here. Riding into the village was no different.

The streets that undoubtedly saw festivals of all sorts have long since reached their peak. All that remained was the vague remains of banners, though even those had worn away with time. If the houses hadn’t already fallen down, then they’ve gone into such disrepair that they were about to. It felt like a ghost town, but it only made him remember that it was.

As they walked through, only one house appeared to be used recently. In fact, it seemed the smell of tea lingered around it; it stood out as one of the only smells there. None of them seemed particularly happy when that was the one he stopped at.

After he dismounted, he just stared at it for a moment. There was something familiar about it, between the flowers planted in the front and the open door revealing a small bit of the inside. It brought an odd string of thoughts to his mind. He’d once walked through that door, but not as himself. Yet, there was nothing about him that would have suggested that, having no spirit and little will to debate alternate explanations of such knowledge.

“This is how we all get murdered by Skiá,” Kiah grumbled. She went on to a more mocking tone as she dismounted, adding, “Sure, let’s go to the only building that’s not completely run down! We might not have brought gifts for the owner, but I’m sure they won’t mind! Maybe they’ll be fine with tearing us to pieces instead.”

“You’re in an awfully foul mood this morning,” Imre noted absently. “Annoyed that you still had to get up early when you’re hungover?”

“Normally you give yourself anxiety over a possibly dangerous situation and back out. But now, when there’s a pretty probable chance of bad things happening, you’re in your own little world that doesn’t seem to care.” Kiah maintained a blunt approach to all of it. “Making sure you don’t get yourself killed is a lot harder than you might think it is.”

Samone was the next to dismount. “What did we talk about not complaining..?” she mumbled to Kiah, though the warning that might’ve hid behind it was ignored.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kiah said sarcastically. “I’ll just forget the fact I’m surrounded by important people that might risk my job if they die. Let’s see, I have the Seothian prince—the only one I’m really supposed to be babysitting—the Qizarn prince with political value I can’t even begin to describe, the Court Magister who is conveniently also heir to a crap ton of land and more titles within the court, and the noble with the absolute worst luck ever. Surely, nothing can ever go wrong!”

“Can you please be quieter? I can’t concentrate while you’re bickering.” Imre wasn’t exactly listening for a response out of them. He ran his hand along the doorframe, slowly beginning to step into the house. The thought of the owner never even crossed his mind, somehow knowing that whoever once lived here wasn’t going to be returning for a while yet.

He started ignoring everything the others said and did after he knew Dimas and Lydia dismounted. By then, he’d already completely wandered in and was taking in the unsettlingly-familiar room.

It was, without a doubt, everything the residents would’ve needed it to be. The fireplace was the most prominent thing there, likely being used for both cooking and heat; it seemed as if tea had just been put on, contributing a bit to show that it was still used. What little was left of the furniture couldn’t begin to explain the positions they had once been in, some being the target of thieves and others simply prey to time. But aside from that, the general state of the cottage meant that someone still cared to protect it from all of those things.

Now, who was that person? That part didn’t matter. Somehow he knew that, whoever it was, they wouldn’t mind if he looked around a little. In fact, they’d probably intended for him to. It would make sense, given how certain parts even looked dusted.

Imre went straight to the slightly-falling-apart dining table, intrigued by the little notebook that sat there. He would’ve questioned the conspicuousness of it, but at that point, his mind was getting a little foggy. It felt more like instinct rather than reason, replacing his normal overthinking with something that… didn’t really think at all. It had slowly developed into this state of half-awareness over the course of their trip here, nothing quite clicking like it was supposed to.

The notebook was open, showing one of the last entries. A bit of it was scribbled out, leaving a good portion of the beginning illegible, but everything else was fine.

‘There’s really no bounds for Kiraat’s inability to mind his own business! He’s being irrational. At least, I think he is. He… is, isn’t he? I shouldn’t second-guess myself. I’ve gone too far to back out now. I don’t want to see that “told you so, Calli” look. So smug, like he wants to let me know I’m the runt. I’m surprised no one’s punched him yet, if I’m being honest.

That’s not the point. What matters is that I’m going to be leaving soon, whether he wants me to or not. He’s been hovering over me for years, and this is no different… It kinda makes me wonder what it’ll be like without him. Quieter, probably. I’m waiting for the day I’m not allowed to talk to him at all… He’s played a pretty big role in what happened to them.

We’re the only ones left in Idale. And soon, he’s going to be alone here, overwhelmed by the times that once were…’

None of the others had gotten close enough to read it. They probably wouldn’t have cared for its contents anyway.

His mind still felt a bit hazy, but he knew what he needed to do. Imre walked over to another door, observing everything about it before opening it. It revealed one of the bedrooms, housing a single mat with enough space for two more.

“Samone.” There was a kind of distance in his voice as he wandered inside the small room. “How much Truth magic do you know, again..?”

“If you’d listened to me at all over the past six months then you’d know,” was the near-venomous retort. Maybe she was feeling the same kind of thing he was and mistook it for danger. “There’s the True Colors for Fos, Skiá, Ilethera, and a little bit of spirits, deciphering and counteracting siren’s song, reversing the effects of Illusion magic—“

“Do you know how to get objects to show a bit of the past, and do they need to be something of intense sentimental value?” He turned around to see her unamused expression, but he made no sign of regretting his question.

“Depends on how far back you plan on going,” Samone replied. “If it’s within the last forty years or so then all I’d need is a spot where something happened. Any longer than that and I’ll need a specific object that held significant importance to the event or person.”

“Would this room do?” He gestured her a little closer to look at it. “It’s probably only going to be twenty or so years. Maybe thirty.”

“Are you going to tell me why?” She walked past him to observe the area, already proving that she would at least try to do it.

“I need to see something.” That was all the answer he could give her. He didn’t even know any more of the answer himself, that single want was the only thing he had to go off of. “Just show something that happened in this house. Something with the five of them…”

“I need something a little more specific, Nokae,” she remarked. “If I simply go by whatever this house has witnessed then we’d be here for days—it might even be years if you don’t specify a person or date. ‘The five of them’ means nothing. It could mean the five of us, five bandits that raided the place, five Skiá that wandered around town, five past residents, or literally five of anything else.”

“Calli, then. Something with Calli…”

Kiah perked up at the name, but that didn’t mean she liked to hear it. She stayed quiet for a moment, then carefully said, “He means Callisto Huzaifa. She lived here up until seventeen-ish years ago.”

“I’m not going to question how you know that,” Samone decided. “It should work for a name and time. Now all you have to do is be quiet so then I can concentrate.”