The Butterfly Effect

{-Beika-}

She hated everything about this. She had no idea what was going on, and she had a feeling that she wasn’t going to get any answers if she tried. But even without a proper explanation, she still did as she was told. Honestly? She was a little scared to argue too long about it…

When Beika and Titham were both finished, they walked back downstairs to be guided to the kitchen. Serafina showed them all out through the back door, giving both of her children a quick hug and a promise to be safe. They mumbled the words back, as well as a promise to see each other again, though maybe that part wasn’t so certain.

“You don’t have to worry,” Enebish repeated once they were in the streets of Ilystalos. There weren’t many people here; barely anyone took these backroads. “We’re just going to go on a short trip, alright? And it doesn’t have to be in silence. Imena and I can tell a story while we’re walking, too.”

“I don’t know if it’s the kind of story they could handle,” Imena remarked. “They’ve already got enough to try to figure out.”

“But it’s a story they should know. Keeping these things a secret for too long isn’t going to make anything better—it’s just going to make things harder, when there’s no avoiding it.” They paused. “What Mom and King Imre have to sort out is kind of a good example…”

“And if you think mortals are having a hard time, then consider what Day is doing. A light is dying right in front of her and the most any of us can do is hope it sorts itself out.”

Titham cleared his throat and said, “I, uh… have no idea what you’re talking about, but… it sounds bad. So I’m sorry that you’re going through that…”

Imena seemed surprised to hear it, but she quickly shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, I shouldn’t be talking about that kind of stuff now anyway. Enebish, come on—let’s start that story. You’re right, there’s no point in holding back now.”

Enebish nodded, and looked between Beika and Titham. “I just want you to listen for a little bit, alright? It might be a little confusing at first, but be sure to pay attention. It might not seem like it right now, but it’s going to be important.” They both nodded, albeit a bit hesitant, and Enebish continued. “We’re kind of all here because of something done a while ago—a trip someone made from her hometown here to Ilystalos. Do you have any idea of who that person was..?”

They both shook her head, but Beika felt like they had a guess. They just didn’t want to say anything out loud, in case it ended up being true.

“A woman had just left her mountain home to live with some relatives,” Enebish began after a moment. “It was by chance that she realized… there was a lot more going on in the world than what she’d acknowledged. Before that, she’d believed in the semblance of peace the kingdom had. But… she saw for herself that it wasn’t quite what she thought it was.”

Imena, even if she hesitated, soon joined in as well. “She found out about an organization that was trying to disrupt the peace, to sow chaos. She didn’t know or understand exactly why they were doing it, but she knew it would hurt more people than just their targets. So, she set out to do what she could to stop them.”

Beika held on to the hope that it would continue to be a happy story—one of good triumphing over evil. The way Enebish’s frown deepened, though, told her she was probably going to be disappointed.

“She was determined to do whatever she could to learn more. She intercepted their communications, learned the codes they used to talk without seeming suspicious. Everything she could use as evidence against them, she tried sending to the king—but none of it quite made its way there. Eventually, she got comfortable with all of the things they did in order to stay unnoticed. She recognized their patterns, even able to blend right into one of them. And that’s when she learned about it… the Homunculus Project.”

“At the surface, it doesn’t seem to matter much for Seothia,” Imena said. “In fact, the organization itself likened the idea to a show of national pride. The homunculi… they’re meant to be supersoldiers, in a way. But not against the shadows—the Skiá might be ravaging everything they come across, but that isn’t a part of the organization’s goal. Their goal, and what the homunculi were supposed to do… was remove magic users from Seothia. And once they started… well, why stop, when they could just wipe the whole continent of magic?”

It almost seemed like Enebish was trying to make this “mysterious” person’s actions sound more admirable, but their hesitance made the attempt futile. “She tried to do everything she could in order to stop them. She’d raid their bases, take what she thought would hinder them, then make sure they couldn’t recover it. She kept track of the important people in the project, and did whatever she needed to in order to stop them. To her, the ends—making sure the project could never be completed—justified the means. Maybe she really did believe that what she was doing was for the better… or maybe she acknowledged that she was just fighting violence with violence. Either way, she didn’t stop until her job was done.”

There was a brief silence, one that Beika felt suffocated under.

“This woman,” Titham said, slowly. She tried to give him a pleading glance—she didn’t want to hear him say it—but he still continued. “She was… Mom, wasn’t she?”

Enebish gave a solemn nod.

“But Mom would never do that!” Beika tried. She’d do anything it took for them to admit that they were wrong—that it really wasn’t about Serafina. “She doesn’t want to hurt anyone! She said she’d been hurt by the rumors of the people in her hometown, she never would’ve wanted to prove them right. I don’t—no, I won’t—believe it…”

“It’s truth, though,” Imena said far too casually. “You’re living in the consequences of it right now.”

Enebish nudged her, though, to get a mumbled half-apology. When they actually spoke, they were addressing Beika and Titham. “I know it’s scary—to be told someone you cared about has lied to you. But there’s always more to the situation than what an outsider knows. My… mom works with that organization. Do you know how I felt when I learned that?”

They both looked at her, perhaps not calmed but certainly hushed.

“I was upset. I thought that she was doing all of it—that she was hurting people—willingly. And I couldn’t believe that my mom would’ve done that. So I went to her, and got her to tell me the story. And it… was a lot more complicated than her knowing, and willingly doing it.” They paused for a moment. “She learned the hard way several years ago what happened when someone stood against them. My mom knew she couldn’t fight, because she had a family she had to protect. So she listened, and did what they told her to.”

Titham might’ve looked a bit more accepting of the truth, but Beika refused to do the same.

“Then why isn’t Mom the one telling us this?” she asked. “Why does it have to come from strangers?”

“Some people… can’t help but run from the past,” Enebish said carefully. “They try to dance around their problems, and keep telling themselves that they’ll talk about it in a little bit. Then it… becomes too late to do anything. I’ve got a little bit of experience with that, too, actually. Do… you know about Prince Natheniel?”

“I don’t see what the hell he has to do with this.”

“I can’t say too much about it here, but… he’s special, more than just as a prince. He has the power to change things for the better… and he ran away, because his family took too long to explain it to him. In a way… you also have the power to change everything. Imena and I are here so that you’re able to understand what you’re a part of… so you can know, and not be afraid of what it means.”

Beika furiously shook her head. “What are you even talking about? I’m not anything. None of us are. We were just a regular family, doing what we always did. And then you showed up. I don’t care what you think you’re doing, because obviously you don’t see anything past that. If you didn’t come, things would still be like they used to. We wouldn’t be out here—we’d be at the inn, I’d be serving patrons, Titham would be performing, and we’d have everything we wanted. There’s nothing wrong with me, or Mom. It’s all just you.”

Enebish tried to put a hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s—”

“I don’t need your fake reassurances!” Beika swatted their hand away. “I’m not just going to go along with this. You were the one that said I should hear it from Mom, right? Well I’m going to do just that. I’m going to go back to the inn, and keep living my life. Everything was perfect until you came. So do me a favor and don’t try to come back.” She turned to Titham, who looked more confused than anything. “Come on, we’re going back. I still remember the way.”

“But Mom said that we should stay with the two of them,” he pointed out nervously. “She said it would help us stay safe…”

“All that does is prove that something else is going on.”

“Maybe it was something she wanted us to stay out of..?”

“Well, then she should’ve told us everything from the beginning, instead of relying on these two to do it.” Beika wasn’t going to change her mind. “I’m going back and hearing the story from Mom with or without you. So go ahead and stay with these two if you want to, but I’m not. I know trouble when I see it.”

Titham opened his mouth to argue a little more, but he closed it soon after—when she made a clear motion that proved she wasn’t kidding. He nodded and followed her.

She didn’t care if Enebish and Imena followed them. Quite frankly, she acknowledged they would, but she wished they wouldn’t. So long as they didn’t stop her again, though, she could pretend like they weren’t there…