The Butterfly Effect

Ilystalos was a Seothian village that rested right on the border between the two kingdoms—it was relatively new, compared to the other towns in the area. Its purpose was more as an experiment; to see if it really was possible for the people from both kingdoms to get along. There were other “melting pots” scattered across the kingdoms—places where people from all different paths of life could come together and coexist—but never one meant to transcend a kingdom’s borders. And since its founding, it continued to provide some rather positive results.

It was also the closest town to the Lake, meaning that it probably would’ve been their first stop even if Zokel hadn’t told them to go there. But since it had been by the Fos’s will, all they heard about for the whole time it took them to get there was about how awesome their adventure was going to be. It turns out none of them were mean enough to tell Lydia to shut up.

The town itself was clearly benefiting from the peace talks. Nobles sent their children here while they worked; with noble children came their spending fund, which was likely more than any of these people had seen in their entire life. It was already a village that depended on travelers passing through, but Samone had a feeling that most of their money came from the nobles.

They weren’t greeted by anyone upon arriving, not like she’d particularly expected it. With all the other guests here, they likely blended in so well no one noticed them. Unlike some of the other nobles there, they made no point in flaunting their status.

“It hasn’t changed since we were first here, has it?” Dimas gently nudged Imre, who’d previously been too lost in thought to notice their surroundings. “You didn’t want to be here in the slightest at first. After a while you warmed up to us a little, though.”

“Zofie didn’t seem to do the same,” Imre remarked. “I suppose she lets her guard down around me now, but it’s not like we see each other often enough for her to be completely comfortable.” He glanced at Kiah. “Weren’t you here before too?”

“To be a profitable mercenary, sometimes you have to travel across borders,” the goblin said with a nod. “I stopped here a lot of times. Haven’t been here since the commission that brought me to the king, though.”

“I came here with Dad when I was five,” Lydia offered thoughtfully, if not just to be a part of the conversation. “It was the first real time we went out together. I wouldn’t call it a full-blown adventure now, but I sure did think it was back then.”

Immediately Samone realized what they were saying. “You’ve all been here?”

“You haven’t?” Lydia bounced around in front of the group, even laughing a little. “I mean, come on! It’s so close to the camp that it’s practically impossible not to stop by. I would’ve thought you’d come for the Qizarn stuff they have here.”

“I never thought of leaving the peace talks,” Samone defended. “Unlike the rest of you, I actually have a real place in them. I need to be there. I don’t have the time for messing around.”

“You do have time for smoking, though,” Kiah corrected off-handedly. Her tone got more mocking as she continued, “Wonder how long it’s gonna be before you start taking after dear old dad. Your heart might just fail you before his does.”

“This is also coming from a woman who’s sense of duty is the only thing keeping her from being a drunkard,” was Samone’s quick retort. “If you didn’t have a family then you’d probably be living on the streets, using whatever funds you come across for your next drink. With you around I can’t say I have a very good influence.”

Imre sighed. “Samone, Kiah, please stop arguing. You can save it for after we’ve figured this whole thing out about the Minotaur.” Both of them relented at his suggestion. There really was nothing binding them together but the prince.

Lydia, realizing something else had to be put in the silence, started a more casual conversation about the shops. It wasn’t every day that one would see wares from both kingdoms, after all; being so close to the border did have its perks.

Samone was able to break away from them pretty quickly. As they’d all started debating where to start, she offered to look around the southern part of the village alone. Imre had agreed, assigning similar roles to the others (him and Kiah staying together), and designated a rendezvous point for them to return to in a couple of hours. It was a perfect way to get some time by herself and effectively move their mission along.

She wandered around long enough to make it look like she was actually doing something. Then, she found a little alley to hide away in. It was perfectly located so that she could still see most of what was going on in the street, which made her feel like she was still working.

An unfortunately familiar voice was in the crowd. And sadly, its owner appeared soon enough amidst all the people on the streets. She wished she’d been imagining things before she knew for certain it was Zokel, acting conspicuously like someone who wasn’t human. At the very least, he was acting a lot calmer and quieter than most that looked his age.

“Ah, excuse me, ma’am, but do you know where the bakery is here?” Maybe he wasn’t here for Samone. If he was, he was going about doing it rather casually.

“It’s right over there,” the elderly woman responded. “The sign says ‘Wakey Bakey,’ if you can read. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.” He began to walk in that direction, until he happened to glance to his side. Of course he saw Samone, so after making sure no one was particularly paying attention to him, he wandered over to her. “I was wondering where you were.”

“You mean you can’t magically track me?” She wanted him to know that she didn’t really want him here. “You’ve been able to find me before without any problems.”

“Both of those times I knew your general location,” he pointed out. “You were always at that camp, which was small enough that I could easily track your location. I was… a little preoccupied when you left, so I wasn’t able to follow you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Was this same preoccupation something to do with the bakery, or was that just your way of knowing the layout of the place? Do Fos even need to eat?”

“I don’t see how the first part is any of your concern,” Zokel dismissed. “But no, we don’t need to eat. At least not in the way mortals use the term. It’s more related to how the Skiá feed off of people’s nightmares, though to a much more humane degree.” Skiá, after all, were known for how they drained their victims; it was what made Myaló, otherwise just seen as a recurring nightmare, so dangerous. If given the option, they could consume every drop of energy from a person and leave them for dead. It made sense that Fos would have a similar but not as brutal way of living.

He quickly remembered that it had nothing to do with why he was here. “You’re getting me off-track. I know you have a normal life you’d like to go back to and I, too, have friends I want to see. So I’m just going to ask this bluntly. What did you feel when you came here?”

Samone found herself getting defensive. How come he couldn’t figure out where she was because he got “preoccupied,” but he apparently knew what they’d been talking about? Was there this script he was going off of that matched what was going on? Realizing she would get no answer out of him, she mumbled, “Nothing.”

It wasn’t a lie, nor something to cover up a truth she’d rather keep secret. It was her being honest. She saw no point in lying about it, especially not when that would only drag all of this out.

His next question didn’t make her any less tense. “Do you think that you should’ve?”

“Yes.” There was little consideration put behind the words. She’d noticed it from the moment they finished talking about it. It had felt like there was a certain kind of pattern that she wasn’t a part of. They all had some sort of attachment to this place, something that had meant a lot to them. But she wasn’t like that.

She hadn’t been lying when she said she’d needed to be at the peace talks. After all, she was the Court Magister, and soon to be the Head of Public Affairs once Kesem relinquished the position. It was important that she understood everything that was going on between the two kingdoms. Being the youngest one there, her opinion didn’t matter as much as the others’; that, though, would probably also change in a few years.

But it wasn’t just her duty to the king, as it also came down to more personal matters. She’d never been outside of Seothia—she was certain she’d never even been past the border, even when she was so close to it. It wasn’t like she had no desire to. In fact, she’d shown interest in it when Dimas had offered they all come to Qizar for the lantern festival. When bringing it up with Kesem, both him and Iris were firmly against the idea. She never knew exactly why they were so protective over where she went, but she assumed it was part of the reason she never went to Ilystalos before now.

“Well, what if I said that you did?”

“Then I’d think you’re insane,” she replied casually. “Because if I don’t know about it, how are you supposed to know?”

Zokel seemed to take a sort of amusement out of that. “Oh, if only you knew all the things that the gods know. There are so many things that you mortals think that only you know—or things that you think because you don’t know, it doesn’t exist. You’re all so ignorant in that matter, it’s almost enough to draw out a bit of sympathy.”

“Are you supposed to be here to help me or set me on edge?”

“Nothing like someone incredibly annoying to put your brain to work,” he responded jokingly. “But in all seriousness, I’m trying to help you. The wrong Fos was just assigned to the wrong person. If only I’d been able to stay with Calli’s son…” He paused. “I know you probably won’t believe me; very few mortals do. But I need you to think a little deeper. Try finding a part of yourself that has been here before. Remember what you learned about the Fox you came before you. Think long and hard and you’ll finally find some sort of answer.”