The Butterfly Effect

It was slightly more startling than usual to suddenly hear voices. They weren’t anything familiar, though, thankfully; they weren’t even comprehensible for a little while. She took the growing clearness to mean that they were getting closer to where they needed to be.

“I wonder what he thinks of me… we’ve been friends for so long…”

“That’s it, I’ll go and have a long conversation with her! Except, she moved to another town a couple of days ago, and it sounds like everything’s going to get tighter again…”

“Am I doing the right thing by being here? I just want to keep others from going through the pain that I did. But in order to do that, I’m doing exactly that to other people…”

“Did I leave the fire going when I left? I guess I should backtrack and make sure, just to be safe…”

“I should be back before sundown. Hopefully I can get to her by then…”

There were less distinct voices among these, too, yet still nothing that resembled something familiar. Even if they all belonged to strangers, the four weren’t apathetic towards their woes. These were people just as much as they were, struggling to make it through the day in a world that was constantly against them. If there’d been a way to determine the owners of these voices, they would’ve sought them out and offered help where they could. Lydia learned at least one thing in her many years of adventuring: they needed to stick together, no matter who “they” were, if they were going to have any hope of all seeing the end.

Eventually, they came to a place where all of the voices became another part of the background noise. A giant tree was in front of them, a vague kind of mystical glow in the center of it that suggested that it was more than average.

“What do you think we do now?” Henry asked, walking around the base of the tree. “I don’t see anything that obviously screams ‘this is your next clue.’”

Tim poked the part of the wood where it glowed the most. “I have a feeling we need to get in there somehow. There are very few things in this world that glow that aren’t mystically related to something else.”

“There’s an opening over here,” Tavin observed. He gestured to a spot closer to the roots, where there was a gap between the tree and the ground. “It’s a bit too rectangular to be something natural.”

Lydia walked over and, just so see what might happen, took a near-empty book out of her satchel and placed it in the gap. It just barely fit and, after making sure it had gone as far in as it possibly could, took it back out again. Nothing had happened to it and nothing about the tree seemed to have changed.

She then proceeded to do what she immediately prefaced with “Boys, never try to do this.” and simply stuck her hand in. Feeling around still didn’t give her any more of an idea of how it was supposed to help, though. She stood back up. “It didn’t feel like there was anything there at all—just completely smooth. Tim, is there something from the other artifacts we have that might be able to fit in there?”

He shook his head. “They’re all a lot smaller than that, even if they were combined. Unless there’s something we’re missing, that must not be what we’re supposed to use.”

“Can you step back for a minute? I’m going to see if there’s anything else I can do,” Lydia said. When Tim nodded and went to stand beside his twin, she came up to the tree and pulled a dagger out.

“Is that really a smart idea?” Tavin questioned.

She shrugged. “I’ve done way more questionable things than stab a glowing tree. It’ll be fine.” Perhaps this kind of recklessness was what she resorted to instead of panic, since they weren’t finding anything. Then again, this was usually normal for her if she was alone or with her siblings. But she was sure that she’d be able to take any possible consequences and found no point in worrying about it.

Nothing changed or threatened her, so she continued. The dagger had been enchanted to cut through anything; it wasn’t difficult to carve something around the glowing part. That, and it got a lot easier once she realized there was already a path through it. It wasn’t able to be taken out so, instead, she pushed it.

The tree stopped glowing, though that wasn’t all that happened. The same glow was now inside of the gap. Lydia once again bent down and felt something there now, pulling it out to reveal what had caused the glowing: a heart-shaped stone, realistic enough to make her wonder if it had been crafted at all. The voices got quieter and less distinct before disappearing altogether.

“Do you think this is our clue?” Henry asked.

“I don’t know what it’ll be if it wasn’t,” Lydia remarked. “Let’s head back to Mei’s manor, we can figure out what it’s supposed to help us do when we get there.” She put the stone in her satchel and began to lead the way… until she stopped soon after.

She felt the weight of the blankets on her, the heat from being under them for so long, the dried tears and the near overwhelming need to shed more. Knowing what would soon happen, she decided, “Actually, let’s look around a little more. It’ll be better to make sure we’ve done everything we can here so we don’t have to come back later.”

It fooled none of them, she knew that. Yet there was nothing more she could do. The world went black around her and she truly was back in her bedroom. She knew there had to be more for the clasp to show her. Or at least, she hoped there was as she prayed she wasn’t interrupted. This gave her the panic that had been absent before, trying to get it to bring her back while desperately hoping to tune out the conversation happening outside her door.

“Has she even left to eat..? Are you sure she’s feeling alright?” Elena was as worried as always. Still she proved to have no idea what was truly going on.

“She’s completely fine. She just needs some time for herself,” Lewis responded confidently.

“You’ve been saying that all day. Don’t you think this is getting a little bit out of hand?”

“No.”

“The sun’s already setting. If she doesn’t leave soon, then it’s not going to be safe enough to make the trip there.”

“I’m sure she’s aware of that.”

“We should do something—”

There was a shuffling noise, like Lewis stepping in front of the door. “She needs this. Don’t bother her.”

“Then can you at least explain why Imre keeps trying to send letters that you’re not responding to?”

“I’d think that part would be obvious. They’re both waiting for her.”

“If they’re waiting for her, shouldn’t we make sure she actually gets there?”

“It’ll be better if we just let her do this. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

“You’re not going to be able to understand it.”

“Is there any way I can?”

“I hope not.”

That was enough to tell Elena what it was about. They were both silent for a while until there was noise of one of them walking away.

“Whatever you’re doing, Lydia, you better hurry up. It’s not as easy as it may seem to keep covering for you…” Then Lewis left too.

Lydia wiped the tears away and went back to focusing on the clasp. Slowly the fantasy came back to her, bringing a sense of relief to know that she hadn’t lost it completely.

Throughout that whole conversation, if any time had passed here, she’d simply just stood there. The boys were just coming back from giving the area a more thorough look.

“There’s nothing else here,” Tim announced.

Henry nodded. “I didn’t even see anything that might tell us something about what the clue’s supposed to do.”

Mostly to assure herself that she was here now and wasn’t going to leave again, she nodded. “Now we can head back to Mei. If we can’t figure anything out while we’re with her, we’ll return home and see if Dad can help.”

She took to following the rest of them on their way back. They really were reaching the end now. The clasp wouldn’t be able to let her hold on for much longer; she needed to say it soon, before she was right back to having no way of saying it at all…

She could’ve sworn, as a part of a mumble coming from her satchel, she heard her own voice. “If only we could’ve really spent all this time together… if only this had all been real…”