The Butterfly Effect

A single puff of smoke rose as she sighed. She drew the pipe back to her mouth again, exhaling more smoke a couple moments later. The chilly breeze blew it away before it could reach the upper floor’s windows, meaning no one would realize she was out here. All the better for her, who didn’t want to be disturbed in the first place.

Samone’s balcony was in the perfect location. It was high enough that she could look over the streets of Levi Asari, but not too high as to make everything mere specks. She’d never been particularly fond of it when she was younger—having a fear of heights she had since outgrown—but times like this made her glad she’d been given this room. She could do what she wanted to do in plain sight without ever being questioned.

But her alone time tonight was cut short. She knew someone was coming because of the sliding door opening behind her; she let her arm rest, though really made no attempt at hiding the pipe.

“You’re too young to be doing that.” Kesem came to stand beside her.

She made a point to look away from him. “You’re too old to go anywhere without Iris. Quite frankly it’s a wonder you didn’t fall on your way here from your room.” There was no form of concern in her tone; she was well aware of the amount of disrespect she was showing and she had no intention to change it.

“You’d do best to remember who your elder is,” he chided with a sigh. “I know the day that you take up all my duties among the council is coming quickly, but I’m still older. All I want to do is keep you safe.”

“Like your efforts are ever going to amount to anything. I can manage myself better than you can. You should at least be able to admit that much.”

“You should know that it’s not safe out here by yourself. You might just be on your balcony, and you’re close enough to alert the guards… but that hardly matters in times like this.”

She actually gave a name to his concerns without much thought. “Things lurk in the shadows that no sane person can even consider messing with. Things more capable of killing you than any other creature in the world, possibly with the exception of the gods.” She gestured to the streets below them. “Do you think it stops them? They have no choice but to risk it on the streets. There may be walls surrounding this city, but shadows don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. They strive in darkness. They find their ways into the light, because as long as there’s light, there’s shadows. The only place that’s inside that’s anything different than outside is a warm bed to get murdered in.”

“If you have the luxury of having little to fear, why are you trying to take that away? As long as you listen to what you’re being told, you don’t have to worry about what might happen. But it feels like you’re trying to get into trouble.” After saying it, he must’ve realized that his efforts were going to be in vain. He patted her shoulder before heading to leave. “Please get some sleep soon. We’re heading out tomorrow for the border. I know you don’t sleep well when we travel.”

A moment later, he was gone. Samone was left alone with only her thoughts and the chilly, nighttime air. The only thing she needed was a little more time of self-reflection. She used her magic to spark the contents of the pipe once more, bringing it up to her lips.

“I wonder what stupid thing they’re going to argue over this time,” she mused to herself. “Nothing ever gets done during those things…”

She knew that they were going to the border for the “peace talks.” They were meetings between Seothian and Qizarn royalty (along with their advisors or council and, for the past few years, family) at a place near the Límni ton Agíon Dakryon. It served only one purpose: to see if the two kingdoms could look past their rather bloody history and come to a state for them to be allies on a larger-than-individual scale.

It hardly even did the job of being a productive waste of time.

Seothia had quite a few things to offer; it was a land overflowing with natural resources, after all. But they were never willing to give up enough—she couldn’t blame them, reluctant to do it herself—to please Qizar. Seothians didn’t conform to any sort of religion, save for the obsession of spirits and the people who had more than one of them. Loyalty was territorial, with little common folk seeing a purpose in fighting in the royal (in comparison to a local) army. Their economy forced a distinct line between the common people and nobles, with the former serving the latter to just barely make ends meet. That wasn’t mentioning the rumors of those that wanted to relive the time before the Saint-King or the Skiá; it hardly helped matters when it seemed like they were on the road to hell.

Qizar had a strong front in the beginning. Queen Odelle was smart, easy to get along with, and very steadfast in her beliefs. Under her leadership, it probably would’ve only taken a few more years before the two kingdoms finally came to an agreement. But then she died. Then Zofie had to take up the throne. There couldn’t have been more of a difference between the two. She was an easily-distracted, paranoid ball of powerful magic on a good day, not to mention she hardly made a good example of punctuality. As much as they tried to shame Seothia’s discord, it didn’t really seem like they were doing any better themselves.

Samone, were she to be completely honest, didn’t expect it to get settled any time while she was alive. Though she could at least say there was a chance in Imre and Dimas, she didn’t put too much faith in the idea that they’d get over the rush of it and decide they wanted to just be friends. In her opinion, they shouldn’t be betting on something like that anyway—something as possibly fickle as love shouldn’t be left to decide the relationship between kingdoms.

Not like her opinion would ever matter under Casper’s judgment. Then again, he barely listened to any member of the council. Not like he really had a council to listen to in the first place.

A perfectly valid reason for being hesitant to work with Seothia: out of the ten seats reserved for the council, only three were being occupied. Those three were for the Royal Treasury (Raisul, though his performance was… questionable), Court Magister (Samone’s first role in the court, something she’d attained earlier this year), and the Head of Public Affairs (basically “everything else the council doesn’t have because there’s not enough people,” something Kesem was currently doing but would soon be handed over to Samone as well). Not even the other overseers showed up unless it was incredibly important; all they did was argue when they were all together. When only that many people were trying to deal with the entire kingdom’s problems, there was only so much they could do. There was a reason the Saint-King set up that system, and a reason that, before now, that number more or less remained the same.

She didn’t keep track of how long she was out there, too satisfied with the calm and thoughtful mood the moment put her in. A songbird soon joined her, though; she didn’t know what type it was, all she knew was that it was rather calm. Not even the normal city birds ever got this close to anyone unless they had food.

It seemed like it was trying to hold a conversation of sorts. It acted like she could understand its mix of tweets and gestures and got annoyed when she didn’t.

“Interspecies communication doesn’t exist,” she remarked as if it understood her. She tried shooing it away. “Go back to whatever tree you came from.”

The bird, though, had no interest in going away. It tweeted once more, as stubborn as a bird could get, and plopped down on the railing. Clearly, it had no intention of leaving.

“I don’t have anything for you,” Samone pointed out sharply. She gently waved the pipe around and added, “I doubt you want this.”

To answer this, it gave her a rather disgusted glare. Apparently even birds disapproved of what she did in her spare time.

“Go away, then.” She tried to motion it to get up, yet it didn’t even try to move. “You must have somewhere else you should be. Whatever you want, it’s not with me.”

“Even the wise chose to remain ignorant to the facts.” Hearing another voice startled her—moreover, it was the voice of a child. She looked around the balcony and glanced back to her room, but she saw nothing. “You’re not going to find anyone. I’m not that kind of presence. But no need to worry, I’m not going to hurt you. Call me your guide for this trip. It’s going to be a long one.”

As if finally realizing the natural order of things, the bird hurriedly flew away. Though she waited, she didn’t hear the voice again.

A bit uneasy, she stepped away from the balcony. “I… suppose it’s time to get some sleep. I’ve been out here for a while.” She gave herself a small nod and she proceeded to go to her room.

She was probably just tired. Or at the very least, there was some perfectly reasonable explanation for what she heard. Nothing was wrong. Everything was fine. There was truth to Kesem’s words anyway; it took four days to get to the border, and she never slept well in carriages. She didn’t want to be overly irritable at the peace talks before they even started.

Samone cleaned her pipe, changed into her nightgown, and got in bed. As she began to doze off—that odd point between being awake and asleep—she thought she saw someone else in the room. It looked a bit like a fairy, small enough for her to hold if she wanted to. Who this mysterious person was—if they really existed at all in the first place—was something she was too sleepy to care for. With little regard for it, she was asleep in a couple of minutes.