Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms

“Sorry I’m late,” Vell said. “Had to deal with a dolphin.”

“Is that what you call it?” Adele signed. She then made a quick, suggestive jerking motion with her right hand, causing the translation spell that turned her sign language into words to spit out “error”.

“You know, I heard that some joke just earlier today,” Vell said. Harley had been unable to resist the innuendo, as usual. “Anyway. I hope you two didn’t get too far in without me.”

“It’s fine,” Ngose said. “We’re currently occupied solving the unsolvable.”

Adele and Ngose cracked open their books and showed Vell where they had left off. Vell had a lot of experience trying to solve the unsolvable, so he offered his expertise on their shared classwork for “Aesthetics and Magic”. Regarded as little more than a filler class by most, the course did have a few practical applications for someone who was trying to uncover the mysteries of a rune on his back. Understanding how magic and art overlapped might help Vell understand the construction of his strange resurrection rune.

It might have, at least, except Vell had already studied everything this course had to teach him. It worked out in Ngose and Adele’s favor, though, since they could pick his brain for their own benefit. They had noticed his sky-high grades in the class and shanghaied him into a study group. They always paid for the snacks, of course, so it was an equitable arrangement.

“So what’s the unsolvable problem today, then?”

“The Butterfly of Fate,” Ngose said. He turned his textbook around and displayed the relevant page. Several portraits and carvings of historical figures gazed back at Vell. Adele pointed to each one in turn, pointing out a recurring motif. Each of the pieces of art featured a bright purple butterfly.

“All of these pieces of art depict an incredibly important figure, or moment, in history, and each of them also features this mysterious butterfly,” Ngose explained. “It’s rare, but it occurs across history, and in cultures that had no recorded contact, like the Pueblo and the Han Dynasty Chinese.”

“And the biggest mystery is, the butterfly doesn’t exist,” Adele signed. “There’s no record of a butterfly with those specific markings ever existing.”

“The leading theory is it’s some sort of subconscious magical iconography,” Ngose explained. “But nobody really understands what it’s supposed to represent. People have been trying to figure it out for decades.”

Vell took a second glance at the art spread out before him.

“Well, I don’t want to rain on the parade of ‘decades’ of research, but that butterfly does exist.”

Ngose stared at Vell for a few seconds. Adele adjusted the settings on the speech-to-text device that fed into her glasses.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” She signed.

“This butterfly is all over the place. I’ve seen it a lot,” Vell said.

“When?” Ngose demanded.

“I don’t know, a lot,” Vell said. “Like, back home in Texas, a couple times on vacation, hell, I’ve seen it on this island more than once.”

Ngose looked down at the various depictions of the butterfly, then back up at Vell.

“Vell, I mean, are you sure? People have been looking for this butterfly for-”

Adele tapped him on the shoulder and then pointed in Vell’s direction. They both froze while Vell stared at them expectantly.

“Vell. Don’t move,” Ngose said.

“Okay,” Vell said. The last time he’d disobeyed a request to stay still, he’d lost an arm. “Just, uh, tell me if it’s a dolphin, alright? I know it sounds weird, but it’s really important that I know if there’s a dolphin sneaking up on me right now.”

Ngose and Adele remained silent. Luckily for them all, the animal drifting up behind Vell was not a dolphin. A single purple butterfly fluttered to Vell’s shoulder and briefly alighted on the shoulder strap of his book bag. It waved iridescent wings in the sunlight, displaying it’s fractal-patterned wings for all to see -all but Vell, who had his eyes locked on his study buddies.

“Seriously guys, what’s up?”

Adele and Ngose shushed him and then pulled out their phones. They made slow, deliberate motions so as not to scare off the mystery butterfly. A single photograph could help solve a mystery decades in the making.

“Vell, are you here?” Lee said. The sound of her voice as she rounded the corner made the butterfly take flight. Adele grabbed her phone, stood up, and made a mad dash to capture a single snapshot of the butterfly -and ran into Lee coming the other way. The two tumbled to the ground while the butterfly flew out of sight, and Ngose sighed heavily.

Adele tried to reclaim some of her dignity by standing up and helping Lee to her feet.

“Sorry,” she signed repeatedly. She stopped signing, and her hands started to twitch, as Lee stood and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Adele tried not to stare too hard at the pretty girl, and failed. Luckily for her, Lee was too clueless to notice.

“Oh no, that’s quite alright, dear,” Lee said with a smile that made Adele’s knees shake. “I am no stranger to taking a tumble, and frankly, it’s nice that it was someone else’s fault for once.”

Vell stepped up and brushed a bit of dirt off both their shoulders.

“Hey Lee. Uh, right, Lee, this is Adele, that’s Ngose, you two have probably heard me mention Lee more than once.”

“Only good things, I hope,” Lee said.

“Only very good things,” Adele signed. “Nice to finally meet you, Lee.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Lee said. “Now, it’s too late to hope I’m not interrupting something, but I do need to borrow Vell for a moment.”

“Is it dolphin-related?” Vell asked.

“Not quite, Michaela got her hands on Harley and now we need to liberate her,” Lee said. “Would your friends like to come?”

Vell gestured to them, extending the invitation. Ngose shook his head.

“We better finish up,” he said. “The unsolved mystery remains unsolved, I guess.”

His sullen sigh reminded Adele of the opportunity they had missed, and her enthusiasm to get to know Lee dulled as well. She bid farewell to Lee and Vell as they ventured forth to save Harley from her erstwhile suitor, and Adele returned to sitting by Ngose’s side, examining the drawings of the butterfly that had so narrowly eluded their grasp.

Ngose in particular focused on the depiction of the butterfly at historic moments. Fateful choices, battles, and figures that had changed the course of history seemed to be the object of the butterfly’s attention. By all appearances, that impossible butterfly was now following Vell.

“So...we need to either hang out with Vell a lot more, or a lot less,” Ngose said. Adele turned her head and watched Vell walk away with Lee.

“I’m going to say a lot more,” she signed.