Butterflies (Bardic)

By: Almadia Posted on: September 02, 2011

"The butterflies!" shouted the jester, his eyes wild and his voice shrill with hysteria, "The butterflies are watching! They're all over! There's no hiding from them..." His words trailed off as he staggered away from the entrance to the Pixie Village, his eyes darting back and forth. A common red admiral butterfly fluttered its wings, landing delicately on one of the small trees that lined the path. The jester froze, eyeing the butterfly warily.

The butterfly fluttered its wings again, flying in the general direction of the jester, who shrieked in terror and threw his arms up to protect himself. He peered out between his arms, searching for the tiny winged terror, until the silence was broken by a soft but cynical voice. “It’s...It’s a butterfly,” the voice said. “If it’s that scary, can’t you just squish it?”

“There are more,” the jester whispered, his voice mixed with both fear and awe, “There are always more...”

“They’re butterflies,” the voice said, its owner emerging from between the trees where she’d been resting. Her face was concealed behind a mask, like that of a porcelain doll, which looked a bit out of place alongside her crimson Ceylon robes and the pack slung across her shoulder. “Really, how bad can they be? They don’t even have stingers or mandibles or...Anything. Are they going to flutter you to death?”

“They have eyes!” the jester exclaimed, “And the antennae, what cannot be seen, they can feel!”

“So they’re very well-informed,” the woman said, gently placing an arm around his shoulders and leading him down the path, “I don’t see how that makes them particularly harmful, though.”

“No, you don’t understand, they’re just the beginning! The man! The tall man in the dark cloak!” the jester said.

“Oh, that man,” the woman said, rolling her eyes slightly, “Tall in a dark cloak, very distinctive.”

The jester ignored her, rambling on, “He knows, he plots and he schemes and he knows my name!”

“Speaking of which,” the woman said, “I’m Everra, you are?”

“They told him,” the jester said, ignoring her still, “They told him everything! Now nowhere is safe! I have to get out, I have to get away from the butterflies! Find some damp cave where their wings won’t flap...” He made no attempt to break free from Everra’s arms, though.

“The butterflies aren’t going anywhere,” Everra said, “They just...Fly in circles and get caught. You’re safe, I promise.”

“Caught, yes, caught, and then brought to...To...” the jester gaped, and then whispered in breathless terror “Vellis.”

“I thought we might end up here,” Everra said, “He’s just...” she looked over at the kindly old butterfly collector, who was even now speaking with some enthusiasm to a young novice around Everra’s same age about catching the butterflies. Everra had caught a few herself a few hours ago. Vellis didn’t strike her as being a member of a sinister continent-spanning conspiracy that relied on creatures whose total size was smaller than a troll’s brain for intelligence. “He’s fine. Really.”

“He speaks to the butterflies. He answers directly to the tall man. He can summon meteors from the sky to slay any fool enough to oppose him directly!” the jester said.

Everra looked back at him. “Right,” she said, leading him on again towards the archway out of Minia, “Let’s just keep walking, just like we belong, and he probably won’t even notice us. Alright?”

“Yes, yes,” the jester said as the two of them walked out of Minia, Everra hoping she could drop him off at the Crystal Leaf and get back to her business in Minia without too much delay, “We’ll just walk right past,” the jester continued mumbling, “That’s just crazy enough to work!”

As the two of them slowly walked down the highway and out of sight, a young troll novice snagged a nearby red admiral in his net. He’d just come back from the Ember Tower with a glitterlight when he’d seen the more common butterfly, and decided to catch one more before turning in his net for the day. Vellis, as always, was full of gratitude and appreciation, eagerly exchanging a handful of gold for the butterflies.

Glancing around to see that the only other adventurers in the area were a trio having a conversation and not likely to come looking for nets anytime soon, Vellis turned back towards his hidden grove to release the butterflies into his vast collection. A swirling, pulsing display of color spiraled through the shafts of light that broke through the canopy above as the new butterflies joined those who’d been there for months or even years. All of them found their way back out eventually, but Vellis’ affection kept them long.

One of the red admirals, by far the most common of the bunch, landed on Vellis’ shoulder. Vellis smiled as its antennae twitched in his ear, giving him a slight tickle. Then he reached out and cupped a glitterlight in his hand. Bringing it close to his mouth, he whispered “the jester knows,” and then released it to carry the message to their dark master.