The Butterfly Effect

Melai never rejoined the other phoenixes, instead opting to stay beside them for the rest of the night. It encouraged them to get going early the next morning and started a song to keep them all awake; the other phoenixes, by the time it had finished building up to the song itself, joined it.

“Today we have a tale,

Similar to what you may know,

But still we will start slow.

This is a reality, but not yours;

All just a simple illusion of hers,

Trying to grasp it, with no avail.

It is something we all understand—

To lose a love, someone dear—

Yet none can conquer the fear.

While they are regretting

They are forgetting,

Of those that reach for their hand.

She fled the reality before her

To find a false paradise;

A place that comes with the price

Of almost losing the light

That gives her the might

To continue things as they were.

She brought them all together,

Two that weren’t and one that was,

With the simple cause

Of having them all close,

As that was what she wanted the most.

But at what cost, I wonder?”

Melai flew around the four of them. It continued the story through a different form, though the phoenixes still kept the tune. “It is something mortals are aware of, is it not? The desperation of a person, the lengths one may go to… It is a road to tread carefully, for there is much to recover yet even more to lose; let us all hope, for the sake of those trapped with Usiu and the lost in the living realm, that this will turn out well.

“As you can imagine, this place is born of denial; a soul wandering through their depression; bargaining their way through both what needed to happen and what will come; here, anger rises; but will there be a hope of acceptance?”

Lydia was inexplicably relieved to hear what Henry’s guess was towards its meaning.

“Are you talking about the person who set all of this up?” he guessed. “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time someone made something out of grief—or even a memorial.”

“I suppose you could say that,” Melai mused. “She did play a part in creating it.”

Then her heart dropped when she heard Tavin’s question. “What about the ‘false reality’ and being an illusion?”

“You are experiencing things that are not meant to be. Consider it like a dream—pulling from distant memories and aspirations, it is created into something that, at times, can appear more real than the present. But that does not mean it is something to overlook, for it may hold some much-needed answers…” Melai decided to leave it off with a simple, “Who knew that it was possible to defy Vaso’s foresight?”

“Vaso’s foresight…” Lydia repeated. She tried to look for the phoenix again, but it had already disappeared with the rest of its kin. Still, she mumbled, “Are you talking about the Caverns..?”

“Once you finished defeating the Minotaur, you all went to a pool that kinda told your futures, didn’t you?” Tim recalled. “What did it say, again..?”

Henry whacked him. “How could you forget? It was random stuff about being in the darkness and whether or not they stepped into the light, then even more random stuff. It’ll be impossible to tell what story went with who until half of them are dead.”

“The last child never quite left the darkness to begin with. They loved the vigor of it all, which ultimately led to their demise. Though they did countless good acts in their time, the only thing they were remembered for decades later was the tragedy surrounding it.” She shrugged. “I can’t say much for anyone else, but that definitely sounds like me. I wouldn’t be surprised if I die doing stuff like this—honestly there’s times when I’m surprised I haven’t died already.”

“Then what about only being remembered by the tragedy?” Henry wondered. “Is that supposed to be about how you die..?”

It took a little while for Tavin to say anything, even then it was more of a mumble. “Does… anyone else feel like we’re not supposed to be here together? Like we were never supposed to get this far..?”

“Now I think you’re just overthinking it,” Tim remarked. “All of this has to be real.”

“I’m not saying that it’s not real. It just doesn’t feel right. It feels like that tragedy should’ve already happened, like… I’m the only one that should be here.”

Lydia felt it too; the sense that things were a bit too perfect. But she wasn’t going to show that to them. She ruffled Tavin’s hair as she assured him, “You’re never going to be alone.”

The twins both gave their own gestures and mumbles of agreement. His smile, however weak it was, showed his appreciation.

She chose to hopefully change the subject so that none of them had to think about it any more. “I think we’re pretty close to where all the phoenixes start burning out.” She looked up at them and, noting their dulling colors and a few faltering in their flight, nodded. “Definitely closer.”

Henry paused before searching the group. “Melai? Can you come down here?” He waited until it dropped down to continue his inquiry. “Why do the phoenixes migrate?”

“If I knew, I would tell you,” Melai responded thoughtfully. “None of us know why Elle set us on this path. Perhaps we are like that woman, trying to recover something dear to us; what that something is, however, evades all of us. The Phoenix King never flew over these lands. Yet still we travel.”

“What do you think it is?” Tim asked, simply to add to the conversation.

“I cannot begin to imagine…”

“Then what do you want it to be?”

“Eternity,” it sighed wistfully. “Even if it was not with Vriuh. I would be content with staying as ashes and never rising again. Though I would miss the mortals like you. Somehow it makes our fate a bit more bearable.”

He smiled. “There’s something I want to show you when we’re done for the day. I think you’ll like it.”

As much as Melai tried (and ultimately failed) to discreetly ask throughout the rest of the day—and Henry eventually joining in—Tim didn’t budge at all. The most he ever revealed was that it was something he’d brought with him and was excited to put to use. Knowing him, that solved absolutely nothing; Lydia had seen the variety of stuff he’d brought along with them. By the time they stopped for the night, she’d also grown curious about whatever he was so excited to share.

Tim dug through his bag and, eventually, pulled out a snow globe to show to them. He carefully set it in front of Melai before saying, “This was something Uncle Witless found and may or may not have gotten scammed by on a trip for the army. The seller promised him that it would show whoever looked into it their true desire. Long story short, it didn’t, so he gave it to me instead so I could mess around with it. I found out that it was still enchanted, just not in the way that the seller said it was—it can show a person’s desire, but only one, and it has to be strong. I honestly don’t remember why I brought it with me, but I thought you might like to see it.”

Melai circled around it before returning to its spot. “Are you a child of Fleyw Bresh, by chance? How could you have figured that out without ever using it?”

“Far from it. I’m just curious and need something to do in my spare time.” Proudly, he continued, “Messing with artifacts is kinda like a hobby of mine.”

“That and proceeding to blow stuff up with them,” Henry added. “Which is all fine and well until Grandmom blames me for it.”

Tavin, with complete nonchalance, commented, “To be fair, it’s not like it’s unwarranted suspicion… But Tim’s still done worse.”

“H-Hey, remember who’s the oldest!”

Henry smirked. “By three minutes.”

Melai blinked. “If I may interrupt your mortal banter, I would like to know more about how this artifact of yours works.”

Tim nodded. “I’m pretty sure all you’ve got to do is think about what you want to see. Maybe touch it.”

Cautiously, it lifted its wings around the globe and pressed its head to the glass. It mumbled some incomprehensible thing as the other phoenixes gathered around to watch as well. The four of them stepped back to give the others more room and waited to see if it would work.

When Melai first pulled back, there wasn’t anything different. Some of the phoenixes turned back then, believing what they had been hoping for wasn’t going to appear. Yet Melai continued to watch it until it changed. The scene it soon presented was enough to draw sympathy out of everyone.

Even if Lydia didn’t recognize all of them, she knew who the characters were. This was a reunion in death; Vriuh’s goblin-like figure overlooking Ekambar and his family. It was the moment all of these phoenixes dreamed for, when their creator’s soul would be able to come together and become whole again. She liked to believe that, one day, the phoenixes will see that goal… that finally their suffering would come to an end.

“Thank you,” Melai finally whispered after simply staring at the picture. “I believe… that this is something we will all remember for the rest of our cycles. Until at last we are able to experience it for ourselves…”