The Butterfly Effect

The gods often seemed to enjoy things like testing how far a mortal could bend before breaking completely. She considered everything up to her current state—bloody, barely conscious, and fully aware of the power that wanted to consume her very being—as proof of that. After all, things had started out so simple, all those years ago…

“Can you tell us another story, Ms. Eme?” one of the children asked eagerly.

One of the others nodded. “I wanna hear another one, too!”

Several others joined in with their agreement.

Eme let out a soft laugh at their enthusiasm, but she still shook her head. “I don’t think we have another time for a story. Your parents are probably going to be ready to pick you up soon.” She stood up from her chair, beginning to put the book away. “Besides, I can’t stay very long after service today. I’ve got a bit of studying I’ve got to do.”

“What’re you studying for?” another child asked. “My big brother’s studying, too. He’s got these big tests! Do you have big tests, too, Ms. Eme?”

“No, not quite,” she responded thoughtfully. “I’m researching something on my own. It’s about magic.”

That was all she had to tell them; they were young enough that they had yet to grasp a lot of the more specific details, so she didn’t need to share them. That was one of the many things she liked about children—she could tell them a half-truth, and they wouldn’t think anything else of it.

“Can you all help me clean up a little?” she then asked. “We want this place to be nice and tidy by the time your parents come to pick you up.”

Most of them nodded and said, “Yes, Ms. Eme!”

So, by the time some of the parents started to come down, pretty much everything in the little room was cleaned up. Eme talked with some of the parents as they went to get their children, and stayed until every last one of them were gone. Then she gave the room one last glance and, seeing it all in order, left and locked the door behind her.

It seemed to be perfect timing, too, because the pastor was just coming down.

“Looking to use the library again?” he prompted. “I’d really like to advise you against your usual practices there, but I believe that’s a battle I’ve lost long ago…”

“You don’t have to worry.” She knew it wasn’t really an assurance, not to someone who practically had every verse to the contrary memorized. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Maybe he was going to try to argue with her, but he ultimately sighed and shook his head. “I just hope you’ll listen to Sachiel when they try to warn you, child. You’re too young to dabble in Darkness’s magic and lose yourself to it.” Still, he stepped out of the way, and took out another set of keys from his coat. “I’m going to be telling the nuns to lock the doors an hour after sundown, so if you don’t want to get locked in again, you’ll keep track of the time. Oh, and there’s someone else who’s been pestering me about access to that part of the library. I can’t stop you from using it but, please, try to keep others out of it…”

“I will.”

Possibly. She wasn’t against letting someone else learn the kinds of things she was, if they could prove to her it was for the same reasons. But that wasn’t any kind of thing to tell the already-worried priest, so she kept that part to herself.

Since everyone else was leaving the church at that point, the most people Eme had to talk to on her way to the library was anyone who wanted to greet her. Nearly all of them didn’t even know why she was making her way to the library. They probably thought she was looking for more ways to refine her Life magic… and in a sense, they’d be right. It’s just that she felt that, in order to truly master Life magic, she had to master the other half of Daphni’s gift… Death magic.

Nearly as soon as she entered the library, she heard a voice from beside her remark, “Ah, are you the young lady I’m not supposed to be bothering? Might I… bother you anyway?”

A young man, maybe only a year or two older than her, walked up to her. He had a kind smile and she knew for a fact he wasn’t from around here—she would’ve definitely remembered someone who looked like him. Despite the mismatched clothes and messy hair, there was something… knowledgeable about him, like the air the elders often carried.

The idea only excited her, though. Someone with the knowledge of the elders, yet one who was interested in the same things she was? Nearly everyone, no matter what they knew, discouraged the use of Mávri Mageía… had she found a kindred spirit?

She had to stop herself from wondering too much, though, and instead asked, “So, you’re the one who was bothering the priest earlier? Can I get a name..?”

“Oh, right, those would be rather important.” He gave her a little bow. “I’m Leander Tomai, a visitor to this quiet little town as I continue my search for knowledge. And you, miss?”

“Eme Takemra. I was born and raised here in Yllvamel.”

“Well, no wonder the priest trusts you, then! Though I have to wonder what led you to do the kind of research you’re doing, when I presume you were raised in an area that didn’t take kindly to the craft…”

She made the decision to start going towards the part of the library she often worked in—the little room that the key was meant for. It wouldn’t hurt to let him know where it was, though she had yet to decide if she’d let him join her. “It’s just something of a curiosity of mine. I think there’s a lot that we don’t allow ourselves to know, because we’re afraid it’ll hurt us—even if it can have ultimately helpful applications. I want to know and understand those things, because I think it’ll help me master the skills I need to truly make a difference.”

“My reason seems a little shallow now,” he remarked with a chuckle. “All I want to do is prove the world wrong.”

“Oh, really?” She had a grin, though. She had a feeling that he was really going to change something—even if it wasn’t quite in the way that he imagined. In a way, looking back… it was in ways neither of them, at that point, would’ve even thought about. “Prove them wrong about what? And how?”

There was a spark in his eyes when she asked that, as if he’d been waiting years to hear it. But before he got too far ahead of himself, he took a deep breath and coolly explained, “Everything about Mávri Mageía. I mean, no one can deny the bad things it can do. But I think people discredit the good, too. And I’ll make the world see that, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Congratulations, you passed the test.” Eme gestured for him to follow her. “I’m going to show you into that room… as long as you promise not to tell the priest I let you in, alright?”

He seemed surprised for a moment, then nodded. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

They didn’t just do research while they were there, of course; apparently it had been quite a while since either of them had a partner to work with. Even when the day was done, Leander decided to keep coming to Yllvamel to do his research. First, the only thing they shared were their theories—the things they’ve read, some of the ways they’ve begun to apply it to their lives. Next, they were talking about pieces of their pasts and some of the things that lead to their research. Then a few weeks had passed and they didn’t even need to mention their research before they were talking about their families, their homes… and if they might like to share some qualities of them. Sometimes they wouldn’t even do research, instead opting for brunches or quiet nights alone. It wasn’t too long before Leander had moved to Yllvamel for good, with a promise to take care of her and the child she soon bore.

But nothing lasts forever, and there was always a reason the elders warned of Mávri Mageía. It was a careful tightrope, but one Eme had thought they both mastered. She should’ve remembered that no mortal was perfect, none able to manage the balancing act only gods could pull off.

Because before he even got to see their child, Leander lost his balance and fell off. And it took seconds for the murky waters below to consume him, to the point where only Vriuh’s soft embrace could save him.