The Butterfly Effect

{-Demery-}

They left early the next morning, with Demery having surprisingly mixed feelings about only the three of them going. They were just going to tell the others what happened when they got back; no need for them all to go out there. On one hand, they really didn’t need the others—this didn’t involve Olle or Evelina. On the other hand, Aither might’ve been able to explain things better than the now-nervous-rambling Tandi.

“I apologize in advance,” she mumbled. She must’ve said that alone at least a dozen times since they left. “I can’t be certain of how they’ll react to seeing you. I don’t believe they’re going to be happy—Master Tyrus barely liked me going to help you at all—but I don’t think they’re going to be extremely disappointed, either. They haven’t seen you in a long time, after all, and your grandparents hardly write to them about your wellbeing…”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Koyana said, either as affirmation for herself or reassurance for Tandi. He couldn’t quite tell. “The important part is that we’re finally going to be able to talk with them. Right, Demery?”

“I’ve already heard their excuses from Tandi,” he grumbled. “Hearing them from their own mouths isn’t going to make it sound any nicer.”

Tandi was quiet for a moment before thinking of something else. “Do try not to touch anything while you’re there. There’s a lot of things there that Master Tyrus is very particular about. And don’t try to ask too many questions to the servants—they’re not going to be able to understand the extent of the situation. Actually, it might be best to avoid them entirely… I can’t quite be sure of how they’re going to react to the two of you, either. It’s been a long time but there’s still plenty of mixed feelings on the matter. I apologize, too, for if they say anything rude to you. I assure you, they didn’t mean to offend you.”

Koyana casually remarked, “I don’t think we would’ve blamed them for not understanding anyway.”

“Ah! I nearly forgot, how familiar are the two of you with local customs? Do you have any nobles living near your town that you might’ve visited?” Tandi looked at them, though she seemed to realize that they didn’t exactly know what she was talking about. “When you’re visiting a noble—especially one of great wealth or influence within the church—you must make sure you act with utmost courtesy. Remember to refer to them by their titles, or whatever name they might prefer. Don’t speak unless spoken to, as you’re largely unfamiliar with each other. Follow Master Tyrus’s lead, but not too closely, and be able to realize when he’s doing something he wants you to imitate…”

“We’re their kids,” Koyana pointed out. “Should all of that really matter..?”

Demery shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t see us as their children, with what other information we know about them. They’ll probably try to pretend like we don’t exist at all.”

“You should try to follow them,” Tandi repeated after a moment, perhaps to keep them off that particular subject. “At least until Master Tyrus says it’s no longer necessary.”

It was only after they passed through the town and followed a winding road to an impressive-looking estate that she finally stopped mumbling things. Judging by her expression, though, it was in favor of determining how to explain herself. Demery truly wondered if he was supposed to be looking forward to a meeting with their parents, if this was how one of their servants acted when there might be trouble.

The extravagance of the place didn’t help the fact at all. To Demery, the whole thing reminded him of the story of Mylian… the king that, in his greed, wished for golden touch, and learned what it cost him after his daughter forever stayed a statue of gold. It felt like a call to Darkness saying, “Hey, look at me! I’m foolish and rich! Certainly I’m above even gods!”

The halls were large and spacious, lined with paintings or carvings that clearly possessed a fair bit of value. Servants could be heard darting about, but only a few of them could be seen. There was a certain air about the place that made the truth loud and clear—whoever owned this place was much wealthier than most and wanted everyone to know it.

And that certainly never ended well.

Tandi stopped every now and again to mumble reassurances to the others, but she didn’t let anything distract her for too long. It looked like she was highly respected among them; she hardly had to say anything to quell their questions or concerns.

She stopped at a grand set of doors and knocked, which seemed to echo throughout the whole halls. She seemed to instinctively stand straighter before announcing, “Apologies for the interruption, Master, but I’ve returned.”

A pause, then, “Enter.”

Tandi gently pushed the doors open then gestured for Demery and Koyana to follow her inside. Once they were in, she closed the doors behind her again.

This must’ve been their “humble” living room; though there wasn’t a lot of furniture, it didn’t hold back on any of the grandeur of the halls. A grand painting—of a scene from a story that stated that wealth could not buy a comfortable afterlife—hung right in front of them with a sofa on either side. There was a large bookcase on one wall and a door to what looked to be the gardens on the other. A piano and harp were tucked away in a corner, and Demery guessed there was enough room between the door and sofas that rather elaborate dances could be performed.

A man and his wife—who Demery already denied to acknowledge as his parents—were sitting at one of the sofas. Their expressions didn’t change when they saw exactly who had followed behind Tandi.

“Why are they with you?” the man asked. He sounded more like she’d returned with a wild animal than with his children.

She bowed. “I informed you of the Fos that came to me. He had asked us to find the box you had given to Jimar. He explained what it meant and requested that I take these two back with me when I return to you.” Even when she was standing straight again, her eyes still stayed on the floor. “He told us that… you have been living in a world of fear, and it’s time that you stop. I don’t dare question the words of one of Danai’s messengers, so I brought them with me.”

Demery had to wonder if they’d had listened to her at all, if she hadn’t explicitly mentioned Aither.

“I presume this Fos told you that facing each other is the only way to be brought out of this ‘fear,’” the man remarked.

“More or less,” she responded quietly, and with an overabundance of caution.

He got up and wandered to the bookshelf. “I suppose you know the extent of it already—Danai is careful in her work. I see no point in telling you again. But, I suppose, if that’s what she intended, then that’s what I should do.”

He only gave them a glance of acknowledgement before picking out a book. “That unspeakable woman cursed our bloodlines. Look at Feldr—they’ve found the Saint’s Curse in their blood, and it seems their bodies naturally try to defy the gift of magic Orestis gave to the Fleyw Bresh. We’ve tried in all our years together to come up with a solution, so that no more of us might suffer. And I finally found something that worked: completely separating us. After letting the two of you stay in ignorance, and cutting off ties with Feldr, we’ve felt the most peace we have in decades.”

“With all due respect, my lord,” Tandi said nervously, “the Tyrus household has been in decline. Your means of wealth leaves with those who find there’s no reason to stay…”

A sharp glare kept her from saying anything else.

“So that’s it?” Demery asked. A kind of bitterness had been festering inside him for this moment alone, it seemed. “I can’t tell, are you trying to explain yourself, or hoping we’ll leave you alone after that damn excuse?”

Koyana looked at the woman with a mix of hope and dread. “Do you have anything to say..?”

“Maybe I had my reservations, once, when I knew that neither I nor any of our servants could watch over you,” the woman replied slowly, carefully, but there was no hint of regret. “I have since lost them, though. You were safer in a place where our troubles couldn’t reach you.”

“The same place that almost had to get the church involved more than once,” Demery pointed out. “What kind of protection is that?”

They both gave an indifferent shrug.

“You could stay with us, if you’d rather,” the man remarked as if he was talking merely about business. “Since you’ve wasted all our sacrifices up to this point, might as well come back. We could make up for lost time.”

“Is that how you see us? Wasting your sacrifice? A sacrifice Aither practically said you didn’t even need to make?”

Tandi shuffled and, quietly, explained, “Aither is the name of the Fos, Master.”

That made both of them still and exchange a nervous glance. But no one liked hearing that they’d done something in vain.

“You could stay here,” the man repeated. “We could provide almost anything you desire.”

The woman nodded. “Just say the word and someone could get it for you. You’re, er, friends with the descendants of Feldr now, yes? We could do some things for them, too.”

It would almost sound like begging, if any related emotion wasn’t lacking from their tone. Demery didn’t want to be the one who had to say it—and surprisingly, he didn’t have to be.

“You’re exactly like Demery said you were,” Koyana mumbled. “You don’t really care about us at all anymore, do you..?”

Silence, then the man said, “I think we’re done here. Tandi, bring them back. I don’t know what the Fos hoped to achieve but I don’t believe it’s going to happen here.” After she nodded and turned to open the doors again, he added, “But both of you, remember—there’s no escaping a truth once you know it.”

“I think you should be telling yourself that,” Demery remarked right before he walked out.