The Butterfly Effect

{-Demery-}

It was, obviously, a small town—small enough that he was surprised they had their own church, instead of sharing one with a bigger town nearby. Despite clearly being strangers in such a place, no one seemed to spare them a second glance… though there were a few confused looks at Tandi, which she invariably reacted to with a bit of nervous laughter.

“Have you been here before?” Koyana asked brightly. Then after a moment, she added, “Is that a question you’re alright with answering..?”

Tandi nodded. “Jimar and I would often travel here when we were younger. But, by the time he’d left, I had been entrusted with enough work that I could no longer spare the time. I suppose these people likely think they recognize me, but dare not say a word.”

“You said that you two were old friends,” Olle recalled, curious yet careful. “How long did you know each other before he left?”

She was just quiet for a little while, so Demery assumed she wasn’t going to say anything. Then, slowly, she began, “Jimar’s parents have always been close friends with my master. When they found themselves in a situation where the church alone could no longer provide for them, they turned to him. He gave them work as servants so that they could live a peaceful life. I met Jimar when we were young. His parents had taken him along on a business trip of sorts into Solaris’s capital, where he found me…” She paused, like she was debating if she really wanted to admit it. “He found me lurking the alleyways, pickpocketing whatever seemingly-rich person might come my way.”

She sighed. “I was the youngest of a kind old woman’s adopted children. In the only city built next to the biggest oasis in the desert, we got lost among the numbers. The church provided us with a place to stay and enough food to sustain us, of course, but anything else we had to find a way to get on our own. None of us could find work within the city. Solaris nobles don’t often hire servants unless the person was indebted to them personally. It was by luck that Jimar found me and understood the situation enough to tell his parents. Then, within a year, I was serving the Tyrus family.” She grew a small smile. “All of my siblings are doing well now. Many of them have families. Though I wish I could spare the time to see them, I’m grateful I was able to contribute something…”

She stopped when they reached the entrance of the town’s church. “I’m certain that this is where all of Jimar’s letters come from. Someone there might be able to recognize me, even after all these years. I should be able to ask them, just to make sure, and possibly see if they know when he’ll return if he’s not here.”

Then, just as she went to open the door, they burst open on their own. A few nuns came out to usher the six of them inside with hardly any time to really process what was happening. Once they were inside, all but one of the nuns rushed off out of sight again.

“Good afternoon, travelers! We aren’t often blessed with so many visitors at once. Please, be our guests—we like to make sure everyone feels at home here. Need something to drink, or a snack, perhaps? Just say the word and we’ll make sure you’ve got it.” The nun gave them a wide smile.

All of it was supposed to be welcoming, but Demery found something uncomfortable about the whole thing. There was something inherently strange about being waited on like this—or even the thought of it.

The nun didn’t seem fazed at all when none of them replied to her. “Too much? Orestis teaches that we should treat all guests with hospitality. We don’t come across many guests, so we don't get to show our hospitality very often! Don’t be shy now.”

“We came here for someone,” Aither explained. “Does someone named Jimar come here often?”

The nun looked at Tandi. “I thought there was something familiar about you! You’re Jimar’s little friend, aren’t you? Well, I suppose you aren’t so little now… Still! Finally starting to wonder what he’s been up to?” She didn’t wait for—or, maybe, she never intended to get—an answer before continuing. “Yes, Jimar’s more or less been living in the town for the past fifteen or so years. He comes by the church to borrow our doves.”

Demery quickly decided he didn’t want to deal with all of this any more than he had to. “Has he been here recently?”

“He left town a few weeks ago,” the nun replied, shaking her head. “But, if you’re looking for him, I’ve got good news for you! He sent us a letter a few days ago to say he was on his way back. We have a few things he needs to pick up, and we won’t mind letting you stay here until you get to see him. Just let me know if you need anything before then.”

It took a moment but, after glancing at Evelina, Olle quickly asked, “Is there somewhere private the two of us can go?”

The nun nodded. “Right over there, on the door to the left. It’s usually the pastor’s office, but he’s not here, and I’m sure he won’t mind. I’ll ask one of the sisters to follow you, in case you need anything.”

“Thank you, but I’d rather you tell them to give us some time alone.” Olle then grabbed Evelina’s hand and guided her off to the room. Another clergy member followed after them.

Demery already had a feeling something was going to end up going wrong here.

With the cousins out of sight, the nun turned her attention to Aither. “Now, I’ve dedicated my entire life to the practice of Light magic. I can sense a kind of… presence about you. If you don’t mind me asking, you’re a Messenger of Danai, aren’t you?”

“We usually go by Fos…” he mumbled and, too late, must’ve realized what he said.

It took a second for all of the previous nuns to re-emerge, surrounding him and asking questions about Danai and the gods. He looked trapped and overwhelmed, yet somehow started telling them the same kind of half-truths he’d told the four of them.

Tandi looked around before motioning to a few chairs in the corner. “I suppose, since all the others are busy, we can sit there… and I can share with you the answers to one of your earlier questions.”

Koyana went and sat down so quickly she almost fell off the chair again. Her eagerness didn’t seem to dwindle even as both Tandi and Demery took their time.

After Tandi sat down, she went into a few moments of deep thought; probably trying to determine what the best way to explain it. He almost considered telling her that it didn’t matter what kind of fancy words she used to describe it—he knew it wouldn’t help to make the truth any better. Something like that might temporarily fool Koyana, but he always saw right through those things immediately.

“You asked me why your parents had chosen to put you in the care of your grandparents,” Tandi said, slowly. “I admit that I don’t believe I know all of the story, but I’m willing to tell you a bit of what I do know. I think… the time is quickly approaching when you’ll need to be reunited, and some kind of knowledge of the events might be beneficial.”

She glanced around and, perhaps satisfied that no one else was going to listen, continued. “It was what sparked the controversy among Master Tyrus’s servants. He truly believed that it could be used to prevent what he had previously thought inevitable. He wanted to give the two of you a brighter future, one where perhaps your blood wouldn’t matter. But many of the servants never knew the full story—honestly, I don’t think any of us do, though the fragments make a lot of progress in understanding. From their view of the outside, they thought he’d gone mad… anyone might guess it, when they realized that he was giving up his own children for some far-fetched hope. A lot of them left after he made the offer of forgiving any possible debts they had under him. They seemed to look at him and somehow know that he’d thoughtlessly given you up, that he hadn’t considered the possible consequences for his actions. But I swear to you, I have never seen a man more lost in thought, and perplexed, as I had as I watched him make the decision. It was what he perceived as the best option, when it came to something they wished would never happen yet fervently prepared for the moment when it did.”

Demery largely ignored Koyana’s more hopeful glance at him. He knew exactly what she wanted him to admit. He refused to say it. “So, you’ve told us that he cared. That doesn’t really say anything about why.”

“The exact truth in the matter is one that I’m not certain of myself,” Tandi said. “What I do know, however, I can share with all of you. The blood of Feldr holds a place among it all, so it would be best to have them here when I tell you.”