The Butterfly Effect

Servants, likely having witnessed the transformation, rushed into the garden. Eldrianna was nowhere to be seen, as expected of someone like her; she’d done what she had come here to do, so there’d been no reason for her to stay.

The Minotaur, for a moment, must not have realized what had happened. But what was once confusion quickly turned to frustration, and it looked at all of its minuscule watchers and even swatted them aside. Whether it was aware that the slightest of gestures was likely powerful enough to harm them, though, was something that couldn’t be determined. Its roar alone seemed to be enough to shake the ground.

It continued on with this frenzy, likely trying to make sense of what had just happened to it. There was, if not rough and barely comprehensible, a rumble from the beast that vaguely resembled “Why..?” as its gaze darted between each aspect of its surroundings.

Almost as soon as it was said, the doors to the garden burst open to reveal Anysia. Seeing what her father had become, she spared no time in fluttering up to it in order to make eye contact. Whatever she might have hoped to see in her father’s eyes, however, was gone, leaving her nothing to do but stare.

“Anysia…” the beast rumbled, for a moment showing some kind of love. But it wasn’t something that lasted long; it grabbed her, though careful not to hurt her, and seemed to give its new form of a smile. “They won’t hurt you… I won’t let them…”

Then the entire scene disappeared, though it wasn’t the end for the whole display. Dimas could hear shouts and roars from another part of the cave, which they all walked towards with a certain mix of fascination and fear.

Goblins and fairies alike were running about, more than a few of them preparing for a capture as the Minotaur got closer. It still held on to Anysia, who looked more resigned to her fate than before, in the same kind of gentle touch that betrayed the way it stomped through town.

It wasn’t hard to tell what their intent was; they wanted to capture it, hide it away somewhere where it couldn’t hurt them. Even someone who didn’t know how the story went along would be able to tell that much. That’s exactly what they did, though it did put up a bit of a fight in the process.

Everything afterward came in parts; they could see how a particular human—Peiros, summoned from the coast of Fleyw Bresh—was called and started working on the Minotaur’s containment. They even tried to save Anysia, though it was ultimately in vain when it proved that it wasn’t going to let go of its daughter.

The amount of time that passed within that memory was uncertain, but it was clearly something. All of the earth that had been wrenched open by the fairies and resealed to trap it was beginning to be taken over by nature once more. Were it not for the cave entrance and the unnerving amount of guards watching over it, one would simply believe that nothing had ever happened.

Possibly the most attention-catching part was the man the guards were trying to keep away.

“I told you the king sent me to slay the Minotaur!” the young fairy protested. The guards still did not budge. “I lost the letter on the way here! Daphni was not happy during my trip, so the waters were turbulent and full of unspeakable horrors. You must believe me!”

“I am legally bound to not believe you unless you have documentation, sir,” one of the guards sighed. “Head back home before you get hurt.”

Somehow, when Dimas imagined how the hero faced many trials on his way to the Minotaur, something like this was not one of them. Why would he, being led to believe that it was all a risky adventure? It wasn’t like it sounded exciting to know that the hero… had lost the thing that he needed. The reality of a situation always was duller than fiction, of course, even if much of what seemed to be fiction was fact.

“No, look—I have Peiros’s five appointed guardians with me!” The fairy gestured to his five companions, who collectively wore an unamused frown. “They came with me in order to open the Labyrinth so I can go in! Aevus, back me up here.”

“Unfortunately, we are with this young one,” another fairy, the oldest out of all of them, sighed. “Everything he said is true. You might recognize me as Aevus, descendant of Lord Cyclos. I have no reason to lie to you.”

The guard hesitated for a moment before finally seeming to resign. “I will at least need your name for the records.”

“Call me Theseus,” the hero responded triumphantly. “You may have heard of some of my many endeavors—“

“I have never heard that name before in all my time here,” the guard remarked.

The hero, flustered, defended, “My mighty works are still in the making! One day you’re going to hear my name across the nations! Wouldn’t you rather have a spot in my legends as the one who let me in instead of turning me away?”

Aevus didn’t seem any more amused than the guard did, but said, “Just go with it. He’s always like this and, worst yet, there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

The guard stepped aside. “Then I suppose I’ll let you in. May Danai’s light bless you in that cursed cave… I daresay you’re going to need more than just heavenly protection, Theseus.”

Theseus let his companions gather around the entrance and open it before waving goodbye to them. None of them had any interest in joining him—in fact, they looked more like they were preparing for a funeral—and simply watched him off. There wasn’t the slightest bit of fear in his eyes as the memory continued to follow him, the display slowly changing to match his new surroundings.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a voice mumbled at last. “Father doesn’t take well to visitors… you’ve probably heard why they have guards out there now.”

He jumped, lighting a spark in his hand and hovering it in the direction of the voice. “Who’s there?”

Slowly, the person revealed herself; it was Anysia, practically stalking out from one of the cave’s corridors. “I’m the one person he can’t see you with,” she responded, tilting her head curiously. “If Father finds out you’re talking to me, he’ll surely kill you. Even more so than he would’ve already done if you just wandered here on your own.”

“So you’re Princess Anysia.” He tried to get closer to her, but she only stepped back. “I’m Theseus, and my goal in being here is to slay the Minotaur and save you—and everyone else who might wander into its grasp. You needn’t fear about my wellbeing; I’ve fought off worse beasts than this thing, in the name of love and glory, over the course of ten years. Either it will fall or I will finally meet my heroic demise! The Sovereign-King has high hopes in me, I shall have you know.”

She couldn’t have hidden her interest. “You wish to kill my father?”

“The beast has no place among us on the fair islands of Qizar. If not kill, then send it fleeing to the human lands, where it can become their problem to deal with.”

“Will you save me in the same way you would redeem him, running one of Faidon’s blades through him?”

“Only a fool would think to do it! Even Darkness knew better than to blame the daughter for her father’s mistakes.”

“Would you allow me a life outside, then, where I might be able to bask in Orestis and Danai’s light? I’ve longed for the sun for as long as I’ve been forced into this place!”

“You can have all of that and more. Have you ever wanted to see the world beyond King Theran’s territory? I could show you those places—all the island nations of Qizar! Even the fair provinces in Fleyw Bresh, if you wish it. All you have to do is help me.” Theseus held out a hand, his gaze both hopeful and almost demanding, until Anysia hesitantly took it.

“Father lost all his magic in his transformation,” she remarked, seemingly to herself, “so I was the one who built upon Master Peiros’s original creation. I know the maze well because I made it. All I ask in return is that you bring me to the outside, and have no one look at me like I’m the same thing my father is.”

Without any more words as a warning, she held his hand a little tighter and quickly guided him through the corridors. The memory, now, had changed to use the real surroundings, meaning that the group had to follow after the fairies.

Dimas wondered for a brief, awful moment if this was really only leading them to their deaths; if the Minotaur, by giving them something to distract them, hoped to guide them all the way to it without ever realizing it. He might’ve said something about his fears if they didn’t stop right at the entrance of a large room.

Even though they hadn’t been far behind the fairies, they appeared near the end of a fight. Anysia had taken to a corner, far from all of the action. As a bold contrast, Theseus was holding nothing back in his fight against the Minotaur, even if it was much bigger and undoubtedly stronger than him. It definitely wasn’t an easy battle—honestly Dimas was glad that he didn’t have to watch all of it—but he was winning, pressing his sword against its throat.

“You… can’t kill me,” the Minotaur rumbled with such confidence that it clearly didn’t think it was losing.

“I would think again,” Theseus said casually. The blade was close enough that it drew a few droplets of blood, heralding the things to come. “You see, during one of my ventures to the islands near the Fleyw Bresh provinces, I found a curious little stone. I was able to offer it to Faidon and he made me a powerful weapon… it might be small in human terms, but it’s just as good, if not better. I haven’t come across something it didn’t cut, and I’ve cut down far more intimidating foes than you.”

Dimas knew exactly what happened next and promptly looked away before he could witness it. Legends had long said how Theseus, using bits of magic to both preserve and transport it, showed the Sovereign King the Minotaur’s head. If there was one thing Dimas hated it was excessive gore and he had no interest in watching what he assumed would be just like that.

All of the figures faded from the room, but the remnants of the memory still remained to tell yet another story.