The Butterfly Effect

by taconinja

First published

Two people share a singular dream of strange, fanciful creatures in another world. As the mystery deepens, will they find the dreamworld is actually real?

Flora has always been haunted by a dream of another world with magical creatures. Living alone and as isolated as possible in the English countryside, she has found a measure of peace, but the discovery that a young man from the nearby manor shares her dream may force her to confront the mysterious voice that has always guided her. As their relationship deepens, will they find love or are they doomed from the start?

Chapter 1

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He tells her she must wait... an enemy... fragments... friends... his laugh chills... love... small shards of memory... companions... she must be vigilant for the sign... there is a key... she will know...

James awoke in a cold sweat. The chill air from the open window flowed over him, although he barely registered the sensation. He tried to hold on to the dream—or nightmare, more accurately—but much like the heroine in the dream who was attempting to resist—something—doing so was like trying to hold onto a fistful of sand. He looked out the window at the full moon, still high in the night sky.

Walking over to the windows, James surveyed the manor grounds. The moon provided the only light, as all the servants were fast asleep at this hour. He knew that sleep would not come for him again this night. Pausing for only a moment more, he made his decision. A ride would clear his head. Hopefully, Clover wouldn’t mind the late hour, and he would stick to the road. He wasn’t fool enough to think the moors safe at this hour no matter how many days he had spent roaming them as a child. Thoughts of childhood prompted a quick flick of James’ eyes to the darkened corner of the room near the door. He shook himself and quickly removed his dressing gown and slipped into his smallclothes. After that, it wasn’t long before he was fully dressed.

This was frivolous, he knew. Even the road might present dangers to his horse at this hour. One stumble and a broken leg would... he stopped the thought. There had been enough death hanging over this home of late. His mother would be furious at him if he she even suspected him putting his father’s recent passing in the same breath as an injury to a horse, but...

“Clover at least has some small amount of affection for me,” he spoke aloud to break the suffocating silence enveloping his room. Even the wind from the open windows had stilled. It wasn’t as if anyone was about to hear him, and the servants for the most part were either strangers to him, or remembered him as a lad before he had been sent to London by his parents to learn the family shipping trade. His father had told him it would give him more backbone, which one supposed was necessary to manage Summerset manor as well as the family’s various interests. Shaking his head to clear these dark thoughts before his mood deteriorated even further, James lit a candle and strode to the door, and with only a moment’s hesitation, picked up his father’s riding crop... his “special” inheritance... from the darkened corner. With a sigh he left his room, made a quick stop in the kitchen for a few carrots, and made his way to the stable.

Once he arrived at the stable, Clover looked up at him and gave a friendly snort. James smiled back at her and unlatched the stall. James gave her a carrot and fondly stroked her mane. He had purchased the mare last year in London. A gentleman such as himself could always afford a carriage or a cab, but he had spotted her after an acquaintance had finally managed to drag him to the races. James hated the track. The treatment of the animals was nothing short of barbaric. He still wasn’t sure as to why he had finally relented, but relent he had, and as it turned out, he would be glad of his change of heart. Within five minutes of arriving at the track, James had seen Clover, who was obviously of far too gentle a temperament for racing. He had intervened just before her angry trainer had begun whipping the poor animal. She was completely overwhelmed by the situation and had frozen—it should have been obvious to any fool that she was unfit for racing. James was thankful the Summerset name carried a great deal of weight or he would have faced a serious charge for boxing the brutish trainer across the ear. In the end, he had agreed to pay a fine of sorts in the purchase of the mare, whose name he then learned was Clover.

That incident had also engendered a rather terse letter from his father, wondering if he should buy every horse in England so as to prevent his softhearted son from causing further embarrassment. James had not even bothered with a reply, and a few short months later his father, Edward, the Lord Summerset, had been thrown from his horse after striking it once too often with the very same riding crop now stuffed into James’ pocket. Edward’s back was broken, and he died shortly thereafter. James’s mother had assured him that his father had passed quickly and without further pain, which James knew as a falsehood the moment he read the letter. Upon his arrival, Old Tom, the family’s gardener, had greeted him with the riding crop. According to Tom, his father’s last order was that James be given the crop as a reminder that leniency was not to be entertained.

That brought a wry, sad smile to James’ face as he checked the saddle one final time to be sure it was secured properly. He and Clover departed the manor grounds, and on a whim James took the forest path that would lead him by the seacoast. Perhaps the rhythms of the waves crashing against the rocks would soothe his mind. Nothing else had done so, truth be told. In the weeks since his return, James had every night dreamed the same fragments of... something... he couldn’t even truly describe to himself, nor did he dare attempt to do so with Mother or any other living soul. He feared that madness might be taking him. If only he could snatch one of those slivers of dreamstuff and examine it. All he could ever remember upon waking were the same words and a few images of beasts from fanciful tales—dragons, and pegasi, and unicorns and a palette of bright, vivid colors that put his world of London and Summerset Manor to drab contrast. Madness.

With James lost in thought, horse and rider walked silently and with no great pace through the forest with only the bright moon to guide them. Nearing the forest’s edge, James heard the sound of the sea ahead. Some feeling arose deep within him, giving him a sense of peace, as if this, finally, was the decision he should have made weeks ago. A flash of brightness and movement to his right somewhere deep in the forest broke his reverie. He quickly turned in the saddle trying to get a better look. Clover’s ears perked. She could sense his rising unease. Again a flash of movement, this time to his left but still just out of true sight. And again, this time behind him. James felt panic rising in his throat. He was doing little to settle Clover, either. Another flash of movement as something he could not make out sped in front of him, crossing the path from one patch of forest to the other. Clover bucked and James, distracted by whatever was stalking him, fell from the saddle. He wondered if he was to meet his father’s fate as he fell, but the forest path was kinder to him than that. Winded, he lay for several seconds, barely aware that Clover was running ahead in fear.

His dread dissolved as if it had never come in the first place. James could sense somehow that whatever had accosted him had receded to somewhere within the dark forest. Standing gingerly, he realized that tomorrow would be difficult and sore. Still despite everything, his foremost thought was for Clover. He began making his way along the path. Hopefully, she had not run very far. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had gotten her hurt in this confounded darkness.

“Better safe than sorry, though,” he muttered to the darkness as he pulled the riding crop from his coat. It likely wouldn’t do him much in the way of stopping someone, but it wouldn’t hurt his chances.

As he rounded a bend leading out of the forest to the cliffs overlooking the shoreline, James saw a light in the distance from a cottage. Perhaps Clover had woken some poor farmer from sleep. James picked up his pace slightly despite growing discomfort in his left knee. Approaching the small home, he saw Clover standing in front of it being tended by a woman, presumably the goodwife of the cottage. She had not noticed his approach or was choosing to ignore James as she whispered to Clover and stroked her mane. Clover was by nature a docile creature, but she had been quite spooked in the forest. To see her this calm this quickly was nothing short of amazing. Whoever the woman was, she was by all evidence surprisingly effective, as Clover looked none the worse for wear now.

Between the moonlight and the glow coming from the open door of the house, James could now quite clearly make out his mysterious savior. She was tall and lithe, with flowing hair the color of the setting sun, a mixture of gold and red crafting an almost strawberry effect. She was smiling sweetly at Clover and humming to the mare and occasionally whispering soft words James could not make out. She wore a light yellow dress that both complimented her fair complexion and her beautiful hair. She was the loveliest girl James had ever encountered. He was transfixed, moving no closer and fearful of even breathing lest he disturb her.

She must have sensed his presence, for suddenly her eyes grew wide and she ducked behind Clover with a gasp. James could feel the color rising in his cheeks. He had been most inconsiderate approaching so quietly.

“My apologies, good woman!” he exclaimed somewhat louder than he intended. Moderating his tone, James continued as she showed no signs of coming from behind his horse. “I fell from my horse back in the wood. I must thank you for calming her. She must have been very upset.”

The young woman still did not appear.

He waited for several moments before trying again. “May I... May I approach? I fear I’ve gone and hurt myself in the fall.”

With those words, he saw her peek from behind Clover, eyeing him with some suspicion.

“I do not blame you for your caution. I can promise you I intend no harm.”

She looked at him fearfully for a moment and then looked at Clover as if to confirm his tale. Clover snorted and shook her head almost as if conversing with the girl. The girl turned her gaze back to James and nodded. As he limped forward, her eyes narrowed while observing him. Tracing her gaze, he recalled that he was still holding his father’s crop.

“Oh my apologies again! Something in the forest spooked both Clover and myself. I’m not sure how much protection this might provide, but I thought it better than bare hands. My name is James. I’m... I’m the lord of Summerset Manor.”

For the first time, the mysterious girl spoke. Her voice was soft, diaphanous. “The... the forest?” She quickly glanced in that direction scanning the darkness. She turned back to James and at this point she was close enough to confirm his initial evaluation. She was a picture of loveliness. James found himself quite unable to turn from her striking green-blue eyes. He realized she was speaking to him again. “... please?”



“I’m sorry,” he responded. “I... I must not have fully regained my faculties as of yet. I did not quite hear you.”



“Will you... come inside, please? I... I can offer you some tea?” She gave a small trembling smile to him, although she seemed as if she would bolt if James moved too suddenly.

“Of course. Is Clover unharmed? I’m afraid I must check her over before I can worry about myself.”

That generated a truly warm smile. “Clover’s fine. I wouldn’t leave her if she weren’t.” She led Clover to the house and tied the bridle quickly to a post. She worriedly glanced back at the forest. “Please?”

James nodded his assent and limped after her. He paused at the front door before entering, receiving a querying look. He didn’t feel right bringing the riding crop into her home. She had watched it with such concern. He dropped it on the ground outside the door and saw her smile again. He entered and asked, “Should I shut the door, Miss?”

She nodded and turned away. “Would... w-would you like some tea?”

James shut the door replying, “That would be nice, yes.” He wasn’t sure if he should sit or if taking that liberty might frighten her, so he continued to stand just inside the closed door. It was a lovely cottage. Very comfortable, if slightly sparse. He saw nothing to indicate that anyone other than his shy hostess lived here.

After a few moments, she noticed he hadn’t moved from the doorway. “Oh! I-I’m sorry! Please come in. Make yourself at home.”



He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she had already turned back to the stove and kettle. James removed his coat, hanging it on the door, and lowered himself, wincing, into a chair at the small table.

She had noticed his difficulty and was already at his knee by the time he managed to seat himself. He was surprised. She was so fearful, but her concern over his injury was obvious. This thought must have occurred to her as well because she froze with her hands mere inches from his knee.

“I-I-I’m so sorry,” she said quietly.

“It’s quite alright. Have you tended to injured knees before?”

She nodded and mumbled, “Some animals, yes.” She looked up at him. Yes, her eyes were the most hypnotic color he had ever looked upon. They were the ocean come to life.

“I’m sure that if you are able to assist Clover so easily, I have nothing to fear.”

She blushed scarlet and looked back at his knee. She gently ran her hands across it and flexed it slightly. The pain was significant but bearable.

“It’s not broken, but you need to keep it elevated.”

He nodded as she raised the leg and sat it on another chair.

“You won’t be able to ride, so I’ll go fetch someone,” she continued as she stood and grabbed a shawl.

“Milady, you can’t!”

She jumped at his words.

“I apologize for raising my voice,” he explained, “but I must insist! It’s three miles to the village proper in the one direction and over a mile through the forest in which I and my horse were spooked by some manner of creature, likely a bear or a wolf, before you would reach the manor.”

She began to protest, but he overrode her. “No, I must insist. I will walk back to my home if I must but I will not put you out into the night on my account.” James began to stand. He could not fathom waiting there while she went out in the middle of the night.

“Sit.”

James instinctively sat back down at the command. He turned towards her in surprise at such a forceful command and found himself trapped in her gaze once more. Gone was the timid girl. Here before him stood a woman who would brook no argument. He remained seated. It was all he could do to respond. “Please? I beg you do not go on my account.”

Her stern look faded to concern and she frowned worriedly at his knee. “Very well. Y-you can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

James couldn’t countenance putting her out in such a way. “My good lady, please. I’m already intruding in your home. I’m sure that I could sit with Clover until the dawn. I’m certain I’ll feel much better after some rest.”

She stared blankly at him and he could feel the color returning once again to his cheeks.

“You will take the bed,” she said. “And I will take the floor.”

James could do nothing but relent. “May I at least know your name? I’m afraid you have me at a slight disadvantage.” He gave her what he desperately hoped was his most reassuring smile, causing her to blush as well.

“Flora,” she said so quietly he had to struggle to hear her.

“That’s quite a lovely name, Flora. Thank you for your kindness.”

The kettle began to whistle and Flora attended the tea. His knee seemed to bother him less due to her instruction and her kindness, and he was glad for the warm fire. “I am sorry that Clover woke you.”

“Oh no,” Flora said shaking her head. “I was already awake.” She sat across from him at the table in the last remaining chair unoccupied either by James or his injured leg. She poured the tea.

“Ah, I see.” He was surprised at her being awake at this time and had no immediate rejoinder.

“Why were you... riding... at this hour?” She asked and then began blushing furiously as if she had overstepped. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t...” she trailed off into such timid quietness that James could not follow her words.

“No,” he reassured her. “No apologies are necessary. It’s a quite sensible question, and one I should have asked myself rather sternly before haring off into the forest.” He paused, unsure as to how he should proceed. “I don’t wish to burden you, though.”



“Burden?”

“I mean... I mean... I’m not quite sure how to put it, but very well.” He frowned for a moment, considering where to start. “I have nightmares. I have since I returned here after my father’s untimely passing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. And you... ride.” She paused, stumbling over the word. If James didn’t know better, he would think riding a horse might be a completely alien act to her the way she said it. “You ride to clear your head?”

He nodded. “Tonight I did. Usually I just brood like a proper nobleman.”

She laughed. Her laugh surpassed even the beauty of her eyes. “Do you have a tutor for that? For brooding?” she teased.

“No, but someone should offer the service. I’m sure they would make a small fortune in a short time.” It was nice to laugh about the nightmares. He realized that she wasn’t looking at him as if he were weak or a disappointment, and it struck him that she had purposely steered the conversation to put him at ease. He did not have the words to convey his gratitude accurately, so he marked the kindness in his mental journal, vowing to repay her. “It’s less frightening really and more... anxiety. Yes, that’s the word. Anxiety.” Sensing that she was aware he was simply looking for words to express himself and waiting patiently, he continued. “I’m experiencing the world in my nightmare through someone else’s thoughts. Some catastrophe looms and I... at least whomever the ‘I’ is in this case... am trying to stop it.”



Flora sat her tea down. “Go on, please,” she requested while folding her hands as if to keep them still.

James obliged. “As I said, some catastrophe approaches. Some enemy... I’m sure this sounds quite silly... but it’s very real in my dream at least.”

“Is there... anything else? Anything at all?”

James looked up. He felt she might somehow be familiar with his nightmare, although he was not sure how that could be possible. He resumed watching his cooling tea while continuing his explanation. “Yes, there is more. I see images... creatures really. Creatures from ancient myths inhabit my nightmares. Bellerophon’s pegasus for one, and perhaps a unicorn. This must sound quite mad...”

“No,” she responded, her voice much stronger than it had been. James looked at Flora again. She looked back at him with determination. “You don’t sound mad at all. I... you just sound as if you’ve had a nightmare. They’re not supposed to make sense.”

James smiled at her kindness. “Thank you.”

Shortly thereafter, Flora helped him to the bed and propped up his knee, and in the warmth of her home, he found his mind far more at ease, and he quickly fell into a deep sleep.



—————

Flora waited to make sure that her guest’s sleep was sound and that the fire had died down. She still had three hours before dawn risked waking James, if she were quiet enough while slipping out the door. He had her nightmare.

For as long as she could remember, all the way into her childhood, she had only the one dream. Her mother had thought perhaps evil spirits had possessed her, but Mother had always been superstitious. Father, on the other hand, doted on Flora and refused to entertain the idea. Yet she had learned a valuable lesson from her mother’s suspicion and worry. Some facts, such as her nightmare and... other abilities needed to be kept to herself, as there was no telling how people would react. And now, after so long, to find someone else who shared her nightmare. She was at a loss. She hadn’t told anyone but her parents and a few others when she was a small child. There was no possibility he had known prior and was practicing some sort of deceit. No, but she had a way to confirm his character at least...

Moving quickly and silently, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and slipped out the door sparing a final glance to make sure she hadn’t disturbed James’ rest. She brought no candle with her. Flora had no need of candles as her eyesight generally sufficed in all but the darkest circumstances. Outside, she looked at Clover. The mare was calm in her presence, as all wildlife tended to be unless it was in some sort of distress.

Approaching the horse she whispered, “He says he has nightmares. Has he told you of them?”

No. He has not.

That was what she heard and knew to be true, although Clover had only offered a small shake of her head and an equally small whinny. This was Flora’s most precious and most secret gift. She had only ever told Father, and once she convinced him of its truth, he had forbidden her from ever telling anyone. This had proven wise, she thought, as Flora had witnessed how others shunned those with differences.

He is sad, though, and angry.

“He lost his father recently.”

This made no impression on Clover, as horse emotion was far different from human emotion. Flora glanced at the discarded riding crop. This would tell her all she needed to make her decision as to how much James could truly be trusted.

“Is he kind? Does he use the crop on you?”

No, he rescued me from the whip. He loves me. I love him. He is kind.

Flora smiled at that. Good, she thought. He could be trusted. “Did you see something in the forest?”

No, but I felt it. It felt other.

“Other?”

Clover was at a loss to explain. It frightened me. It frightened him.

Flora could see Clover’s distress. She moved closer and stroked her mane.

I failed him. I was frightened. I fled.

“No, Clover. You came to me. I helped him. You did not fail.”

I did. I failed. He would not leave me. He would defend me.

“Shh... I’m going to the forest.” She felt Clover tense. “Nothing will happen to me. Will you watch him? If you feel you failed, this is your chance to make amends.”

Yes. I will not run this time. I will stay. I will defend him. Do not go.

“I’ll be fine, and I won’t be long. I have friends who will accompany me.” She pointed up at several ravens sitting on the roof of her cottage watching in silence.

Clover was not convinced. Stay. He will defend you. I smelled his difference when he spoke to you.

Flora blushed at this. Now was not the time to debate mating rituals with a horse.

I smell your difference now too. You will defend him.

Flora felt heat in her face and held fast to Clover as she was momentarily lightheaded.

She smiled and kissed the bridge of Clover’s nose. “Humans don’t work that way, silly. Horses do.”

Then humans are the silly ones. Stay with him. Defend each other. Make foals with each other.

“Well... I... let’s just stick to the task at hand. I’m going to the forest. Watch him, Clover.”

Yes.

“Thank you,” she replied as she quickly moved down the dirt path. The ravens followed overhead. Occasionally one would land on her shoulder for a moment and stare at her and ask why she would be going into the forest. She saw a fox peer from its burrow curiously. She smiled at the fox, remembering delivering its pups this past spring. Soon, the edge of the forest loomed. Her ravens slipped among the branches watching her and watching the dark forest. A large Tawny Owl landed on a branch nearby.

“Hello, Mr. Owl. Have you seen anything odd?”

A horse. A man riding the horse. Something else. Something different.

“Did you see it clearly?”

No.

Suddenly the owl and the ravens scattered.

It was here.

“What do you want? How can I help?” she queried the darkness.

She saw a flash of something among the trees, but could not make out the shape before it faded into darkness. A voice responded. She could not tell if the voice was masculine or feminine.

Wait. Watch. Be vigilant. See the sign. Find the key.

“I know. You’ve told me that for years. The dreams show me that every night. Why is James involved? What is he to you? To me?”

Wait. Watch. Be vigilant. See the sign. Find the key.

Flora felt frustration rise. “This is new! Tell me what you want! How do I know James isn’t the sign?”

Wait. Watch. Be vigilant. See the sign. Find the key.

And then she could sense that whatever entity was there simply... wasn’t any longer. With a sigh, she made her way home.

She felt too frustrated to sleep and besides, she should watch over James. As she passed Clover, she gave the mare a reassuring pat. Inside, James was still asleep, thankfully. It was very sweet and very noble of him to wish to protect her, but quite honestly she was far more able to protect him in this matter than the opposite. As dawn broke, he was sleeping too peacefully for her to disturb him, so she gathered her things and slipped outside again to feed her friends. She had noticed that James had several carrots in his pocket, presumably for Clover, which brought a smile to her face. She took those along with her outside and spent a few minutes feeding them to the horse while reassuring her that James was doing well, and that they had not come to a conclusion as to the matter of foals.

She was almost done with feeding when she heard a carriage in the distance. Surmising that someone from the manor was coming for James, she spread the last of her birdfeed from her apron and waited patiently at the step. Whoever approached would doubtlessly not miss Clover.

As the carriage drew closer, Flora could clearly see two men riding in it. One, to her relief, was Tom, the gardener at the manor. She had helped Tom with a sick calf recently. He was a good man—gruff but good. Flora also recognized the other man, but she did not feel the same kind affection towards him. His name was Caleb, and she knew him from the nearby village. He had made a rude, half-drunken advance towards her one morning as she had come to town to buy some cloth as well as help a woman with an injured goat. She had been horrified not only by the crude and inappropriate words but by the astounding fact that a man would allow himself to be inebriated so openly, especially as it had not even reached midday. She had reacted without thinking when he laid his hand upon her arm and had given him a resounding slap more in hope that he would come to some sober sense rather than to cause harm. Ever since the incident, Caleb had been at the forefront of a small group of villagers who distrusted Flora, as she favored the company of animals to that of people and lived in isolation near the forest and coastal cliffs.

“Hullo, Lass!” Tom called to her.

Caleb did not smile. His eyes were small and hard. He spat on the ground and eyed Tom sideways.

Flora tried and failed to return the greeting. Caleb’s glare unnerved her.

“I see the young master’s horse,” Tom continued. “He’s stopped here I take it?”

The other man chuckled rudely. “Would hope not. She’s an odd one and no good folk would associate with her.”

Tom stared at Caleb, his face reddening in anger and embarrassment. “There’s no call for that, Caleb.”

Caleb sneered at Tom. “We all know she’s strange, Tom. Living out here with no human companionship. And the way she speaks to animals as if they would respond! It’s not natural for—”

Caleb was interrupted by a strong voice coming from the door of Flora’s cottage. “You’ll do well to keep a civil tongue in your head!”

Flora turned to see James standing in the doorframe, a picture of fury.

“As you’ve called an innocent girl’s reputation into question, I’ll have you know that Clover bucked me last night and I’ve injured my knee.” He limped towards the carriage. “What’s your name, Sir?”

Caleb had the sense to lower his head but he still cast a resentful glare at James. “Caleb, Sir.”

James stopped in front of the carriage standing beside Flora. “Well, Caleb, if you ever slight Miss Flora’s character again, I’ll have you whipped and run out of the county.”



Flora blinked in surprise. “N-no, I d-don’t want...”

James took note of her quiet protest and made an effort to be calmer. “Be thankful, Caleb, that my father isn’t still lord of the manor. He would have you thrown from these cliffs for your trouble.” He turned to Flora. “Milady, your kindness has been poorly repaid. I apologize. There is no excuse, but I beg you accept my apology.”

Flora nodded meekly. She only wanted to end the confrontation. Her heart beat so quickly she felt it might burst. However, she did notice that Caleb’s glare was even darker while James was turned towards her.

Tom had noticed as well. “Off the carriage with ye. The young master is in no shape to ride.”

Caleb indignantly replied, “And what should I do then?”

“Walk,” Tom told him with finality. “Ye won’t be riding the young master’s horse. Tie it to the carriage and ye walk with us. I best not see ye lagging either or there’ll be words later.”

Sullenly, Caleb jumped off the horse. Tom made to come down as well, but James waved him off.

“No need, Tom, but you have my thanks.” James hoisted himself into the spare carriage seat, with some pain, Flora noted.

“P-please...” She paused to calm herself enough to proceed. “Please let me know if your knee still hurts. I’ll fetch the doctor from town myself. I sh-should have gone last night as it stands.”

James smiled down at her. “Your concern is enough. I’ll be fine I assure you, but if it would ease your conscience, I’ll send word as to this small injury if it worsens.”

She nodded and gave him her best, bravest smile.

Tom checked to see if Caleb had tethered Clover to the carriage, and seeing that he had done so, turned their small party back towards the forest. Caleb spared one last angry glance for her as they moved around the bend and out of sight.

—————

For the better part of the ride back, James concentrated on keeping his aching leg still and was thankful for the silence. The rude servant walking behind the carriage had raised an anger in him he hadn’t felt since the day he rescued Clover. Only the sounds of the forest and the carriage rolling along the path broke the stillness.

Tom looked over with a bit of hesitation and quietly asked, “Are ye okay, sir, or shall I have someone fetch the doctor from the village?”

James grimaced slightly but shook his head. “No, Tom, but I will let you know if it worsens. I think Miss Flora would have my head if I let this knee get out of hand.” He tempered the comment with a smile.

“Aye, sir. I’ve seen her in temper when a lad was mistreating a stray hound. Most time I would bet on a sick kitten in a scrap with her, but she was something fierce that day, I tell ye.”

“I can imagine. I wanted to walk myself home last night so as to not give any appearance of impropriety, but she would have none of it.”

Tom chuckled at that, but soon grew quiet. James could sense he wanted to say more.

“Tom, I’ve known you all my life. You’ve never treated me or anyone else with anything but respect. Speak your mind, man.”

The older man sighed and worked up his courage. “What intentions towards the lass do ye have, sir? She’s gentle and fragile and kinder than anyone has a right to be.”

James was surprised and somewhat hurt by the implication. It must have registered for Tom was quick to continue.

“I don’t question yer heart, young sir. I know ye to be as kind as she is, and generous too... but I saw the way the lass looked at ye. I don’t think it would take much for hurt to find her. I only... as a favor, sir... I only ask that if ye have no intentions, she should know before she lets herself get carried away.”

James took a moment to consider Tom’s words.

Tom coughed. “I apologize, milord. I’ve overstepped, and I apologize to ye. If ye wish it, I’ll pack my things and be gone before the sun sets.”

“Pack?”

“Aye sir. I realize you have a different way than yer father, but I have no business questioning ye. I can only apologize and resign.”

“You’ll do no such thing! I need honest men around me.” James glanced back at the sullen servant walking behind them. “Not mannerless churls.”

Tom shook his head. “Aye, useless that one is and several more. Yer father... I should say no more.”



“Tom, please. Again speak your mind.”

“As ye wish, sir. Yer father, rest his soul, was less interested in his later years in the integrity of a man he hired than he was the expense.”

“What absurdity! I’ve been through the accounts. Not to sound the braggart, but we’re in fine shape.”

“I would not know, sir. I only know that a fair few of the servants... Well, let’s just say I keep a close eye on yer property of nights.”

“And for that I thank you. I’ll also ask you to begin hiring some more respectful and trustworthy men. I trust your judgment. We’ll sort this out quickly enough. I can’t tolerate this man’s behavior, though. He had no right to accost Miss Flora so. I’ll pay him his wages and send him on his way once we’ve reached the manor.”

Tom nodded. “Aye, it’ll be for the best I think.”

“As for my intentions toward Flora... I admit she’s very lovely. I—and this will sound foolish—but I find her company to be something I never knew I searched for until I found it even though I’ve known her a scant few hours. I hope to further—but respectfully—acquaint myself. I can not speak to intentions past that for I feel it would be improper to speculate more.”

“Aye lovely she is, and she has a soothing manner. Thank ye, sir, for being patient with me. I feel protective of her even though I have little right.”

“You know her well?”

Tom shrugged. “As well as any I suppose. She rarely ventures to the village and keeps to herself. When a villager has a sick cow or such, they will give her a small amount to care for the creature even though she tries never to take their coin.”

A thought occurred to James. “She lives on our land, Tom. How does she pay her rent without regular trade?”

“I wouldn’t be knowing the details of that, sir. I do occasionally ask her to attend to one of yer animals, though.”

James caught on quickly. “I imagine it’s such a small cottage that perhaps it’s been overlooked the past few years. I also imagine that a small detail such as this will slip my mind as well in a short while.”

“If the young master says so.” Tom smiled and fell silent the rest of the way to the manor.

—————

Flora finished her chores, but thoughts of James distracted her. She shook her head, hoping to clear it. There was no point. He was handsome and tall and had dark eyes—something that she had to admit at least to herself was a particular weakness for her—but he was also the lord of the manor and would surely have no interest in someone as plain as herself. Humming to herself, she fed the birds last spreading some seed she had gathered from thistle in the moors.

As she returned home, she noticed James’ crop still beside the door. Letting out a sigh, she considered her options. She was torn by the prospect of seeing James again versus having to endure the stares of all the other people she would inevitably be forced to interact with if she returned the crop herself. Flora compromised with herself. She would wait a day or two to see if he returned for it. If not, she would take it to the manor herself. He hadn’t seemed attached to it truthfully, but she couldn’t bring herself to throw it into the ocean. Hesitantly, she picked it up as if it were a live viper and sat it on a shelf above her stove.

The day passed quickly and Flora tried to spare as little thought as possible to the riding crop. There were animals to feed, and there were always hurt animals in need. She busied herself most of the day before retiring home to make some small amount of sewing repairs to her dresses as her rustic lifestyle imposed certain hardships on her clothing. She dined on porridge, trying to put off sleep as long as possible. Still, as she stared at James’ crop on the shelf, she was possessed by a morbid curiosity. Would the dream still be there? Taking several deep breaths to steady herself, she prepared for bed and drifted into sleep.

He tells her she must wait... an enemy... fragments... friends... his laugh chills... love... small shards of memory... companions... she must be vigilant for the sign... there is a key... she will know...

Flora jerked awake with a small cry. She rubbed her eyes to remove the last vestiges of sleep. No escape, she thought. She could hear whispering outside her door. She worried James had suffered the same dream again as she had. He must be connected to this. Flora determined that she would visit him tomorrow and investigate this odd circumstance. The sheer number of people she would encounter terrified her, but this couldn’t be helped. She needed to be brave for herself and for James. He had only recently begun having the dream while she had endured it her entire life. She worried that perhaps she really was cursed as her mother had feared.

Another noise came from outside. It was the sound of wood clattering to the ground. Someone or something had knocked over her workbench.

“Who is it?” she called in vain. She had never known the voice to clumsily knock over furniture.

The voice returned. Stay wary...

The wind died completely, yet Flora knew that whatever strange being was haunting her had not faded.

She grabbed the poker from beside the stove and warily approached the door. As quietly as possible, she edged the door open to find Caleb rummaging.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked before she thought better of confronting him.

Caleb whirled and she could see how unsteady he was. The very act of rising up almost sent him to the ground in a clatter. Flora could smell the alcohol on him. His hard eyes still terrified Flora. She gripped the poker hoping it would deter the drunkard.

“Where is it?” Caleb asked.

Flora held her ground. “Wh-wh-where is wh-what?”

“Your money, you stupid girl! You never come to the village and spend more than a pittance! Is it in the house or did you hide it out here? Tell me!”

“I-in the house!” she responded. “Take it! It’s in a jar on the table. Please just take it and leave!” As terrified as she was, she still hoped that Caleb would just take the money and leave without trying to harm her or injuring himself in his drunken stupor.

“You cost me my job, girl! You owe me for that and for your high and mighty ways when you’re just as lowborn as I am!” He staggered towards the door.

Flora backed away, intent on letting him take what he could find and leave.

Caleb paused in the open doorway and turned his head to stare at her. “You’ll just call to the manor in the morning and have the master of the house brand me a thief when I’m the wronged party!”

Flora shook her head but could not find words to attempt to dissuade Caleb. She continued to back away as he now staggered towards her.

“Maybe...” he paused and then squinted his eyes in thought. “Maybe I’ll just toss you over the side. It’ll be days before anyone even passes by here. The sea will do the work by then.”

“People will wonder where I’ve gone,” Flora responded her voice barely above a whisper.

Caleb spat. “We all know something’s wrong with you! No one would question you just up and running off one night.”

He made a grab at her and she threw the poker at him and turned to run, but her foot caught in the ground and she stumbled.

The poker had struck him in the arms as he raised them to shield his face. With a curse, he shook his arms and advanced on Flora.

Just then, a low growl stopped him in his tracks. Flora looked up and saw three wolves approaching. She recognized them, having conversed with the small pack several times to convince them not to prey on the local farms, as there would have been retaliation from the farmers.

Run or be our meat! That was what they were saying although there was no way that Caleb could understand more than the naked hostility the bared fangs portrayed.

“No!” Flora shouted. “Don’t hurt him! I don’t want anyone hurt!”

The pack halted.

Caleb grabbed the poker from the ground and shouted at Flora. “Now I know you’re dark and tainted! You command wild beasts and they obey you!”

Flora shook her head, hoping to refute Caleb, but he continued to advance on her. The wolves looked at her, wanting permission to attack. She would not give it. She would not be responsible for any creature’s or any person’s death.

Flora saw a flicker of movement and something she could not see grabbed Caleb’s legs spilling him forward. The wolves’ ears were flattened in a mixture of panic, fear, and rage. Something in the darkness was pulling at Caleb, who had dug his fingers into the dirt hanging on for all he was worth.

He turned his head up to Flora where she lay several feet away. “Help me,” he whispered. Fear had sobered him. Flora lunged forward to take his hand and pull him away from the darkness. She was too late. Caleb’s grip faltered and with half a scream he slid backwards into nothingness. Flora scrambled after him but after a yard, there was no trace. No track where he was pulled. Nothing. He had disappeared into nothing.

Flora turned to see the wolves crouched low and angry. She heard a whisper on the wind.

Soon... see the sign... find the key... soon... very soon...

The voice disappeared and Flora heard a horse approaching. The wolves scattered into the darkness. She did not have the strength to even stand. To her relief, James came riding on Clover around the bend. She tried to tell him what had transpired but words still escaped her. She shuddered in his grasp. He hugged her tighter and made shushing noises.

“I heard a voice as I sat in my study. It said, ‘She is in danger.’ I recognized it from my nightmare. It was the voice telling someone that she must wait.” He wiped tears from her cheeks. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “Th-the...”

“Shh... whatever it is has gone, Flora. I won’t let it harm you.”

Flora gripped James tightly and looked determinedly into his eyes. “The voice took him.”

James was thunderstruck. “Him?”

“Caleb! He wanted to rob me and...” she broke down terrified at whatever dark fate had taken the man.

Flora continued, “I’m sorry, James. I’m so sorry! I should have told you. I was afraid.”

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Afraid of what, Flora? Told me what?”

“I... please don’t hate me...”

“I could never hate you.” He stroked her hair to calm her.

“The voice. I know the voice!”

James could not comprehend how Flora might have familiarity with some bit of nightmare. “Flora... Flora, start from the beginning. I don’t understand.”

She nodded and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I have the same dream as you.”

“... How?”

“I don’t know, James. I’ve dreamed it all my life. Always the same dream. I never dream anything else.” Her tears returned stronger than ever. “I know I should have told you, but I was so afraid you would think I was behind your dreams.”

“Milady, I’ve never been one to believe in spirits, but this is... this is beyond doubt some sort of haunting. I could not blame you for being afflicted so.”

“

Thank you,” she exclaimed as she hugged him tightly.

He turned her chin up gently and looked her in the eyes. “If anything, dear Flora, I’m glad that I’m not simply going mad.” He kissed her gently. She felt her heart race in a far different manner than it had beforehand.

James insisted over her protests that she was coming to the manor. He deposited her on Clover, made sure her cottage door was secured, and led them through the forest and to the manor. He woke one of the servants to prepare a guest room for her and impressed on the maid that she should not speak to anyone regarding this until he had explained the situation. Flora did not have the strength to resist and was soon sleeping on a bed so soft it defied her imagination. Her last recollection was James speaking to the maid as the door closed.

In the morning, Flora awoke with the dawn. The room was even grander in the light. It was unnerving. She prepared to leave as quietly as possible when the same maid from the night before poked her head through the door with a smile.

“Master James said he would be along shortly, I told him though that he could wait in the parlor and you would attend him as it was rude to accost a guest before giving her time to properly prepare to receive a visitor.”

Flora was surprised at the level of friendliness as she was a stranger who had arrived in odd circumstances to say the least.

“B-but I’m the visitor!” Flora protested.

The maid firmly guided her to a seat in front of a mirror as tall as Flora. “Nonsense, you’re a guest.” The woman grabbed a brush and set to work on Flora’s hair. “Not too many tangles. That’s good.”


No one had brushed Flora’s hair since she was a child at her mother’s knee, and she wasn’t quite sure how she had been so quickly and so thoroughly maneuvered.

There was a slight hitch in the maid’s brushing as she began speaking again. “Master James told me what happened. Fortunate that lout bragged in the tavern beforehand as to his plans!”

“Tavern?” Flora echoed.

“Poor creature,” the maid responded setting the brush aside and moving over to the wardrobe. She picked through it as she continued. “Did Master James even explain?” The maid didn’t even glance away from the dresses as she continued. “A townsman overheard Caleb bragging he was going to have his revenge on you as he blamed you—quite wrongly I must say—for his loss of employment. It’s his own fault he’s a miserable fool.”

Flora was far more confused by the maid searching through the dresses than she was by the story James had obviously created to explain why he had brought her to his home in the middle of the night. “Why—I mean—what are you doing?”

The maid turned to Flora holding a lace dress that was a beautiful shade of ivory. It was exquisite and far too refined for Flora. “Well, Dear, you can’t go around in your shift and no self-respecting lady should wear the same dress she arrived in the night prior, and you’re close enough in height to the master’s mother.”

Flora felt the first telltale tingling of panic. “I’m not a lady. I’m just... Flora.”

“You’re anything but plain, Child. And according to Tom—and don’t you worry as I’ve already told him if he values his tongue he’ll stop wagging it about like the gossip he is—anyway, according to Tom, Master James is quite taken with you.”

Flora stared into the mirror turning a shade of crimson she hadn’t thought possible.

The maid chuckled as she finished shaking out the dress. “And I’ve forgotten my manners. I’m Clara. Now Miss Flora, let’s get you ready. I daresay you'll dazzle him. Now you’re young, so I’ll just be blunt. Use that to your advantage because once you let a man think he has the advantage, there’s no telling what fool idea he’ll come to.”

Flora smiled shyly. “I-I don’t think...”

Clara shushed her. “Yes, yes. You’re modest. That’s a good quality. Now let me dress you and you’ll see.”

And Flora did see. Rather, she saw that a beautiful dress could make a plain girl look less plain. Clara disagreed, using words such as “stunning” and “beautiful.” In short order, the maid whom Flora considered to be more a force of nature than a flesh and blood person had the dress on and had braided Flora’s hair loosely all the while muttering that she wished she had more time to properly do her hair up. After finishing, she surprised Flora by insisting that they wait at least ten more minutes before coming down to the parlor.

“Always make a man think it takes longer than it does, then you can impress the man when you need to prepare quickly,” the older woman explained.

Soon enough they made their way to the parlor.

Once she was seated in the seat next to James, Clara bid Flora and James goodbye, and another maid brought tea before shutting the door behind her leaving James and Flora in privacy.

Flora decided to take the initiative, for she could not in good conscience let James be in the dark any longer than he had been. “I wish to be completely honest, James. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the voice and the nightmare... and there’s something else.”


“Something else?”

She nodded. “Yes, my gift.”

James smiled down at her. “I think everything about you is a gift.” He reddened and cleared his throat. “I realize I’m being forward. I hope I haven’t caused offense.”

Flora smiled back at him. She took a sip of tea. “No, no offense taken, but I want to be open with you. I... I can speak to creatures, and they can speak to me.”

“Two days ago, I would have worried you were some sort of charlatan or a madwoman needing to be locked away. Today, I have no trouble believing at all.” He paused considering his cup of tea. “I wanted to see you,” he continued setting his cup down. “I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances than last night, though.”

She wanted to be honest with him despite any fear. It was then she realized she didn’t feel fear talking to him or at the very forward and inappropriate idea of being held by him. Flora basked in the feeling. “I’m glad. I desired to see you as well.”

“You say you speak to creatures?”

Flora nodded and gave him a small, shy smile. “Yes.”

“I’m not quite sure what to say.”

Flora stood and walked to the window spotting a sparrow in the tree just outside. She opened the window wide and smiled at the bird. It immediately flew to her hand and landed in her palm. Flora returned to her seat.

“Would you like to see?” she asked half hoping and half feeling a braggart.

James nodded.

Flora looked at the sparrow. “Mr. Sparrow, will you fly in a circle counter-clockwise three times and then land on James’ shoulder?”

The bird tweeted once at her and then did as she asked.

Flora smiled again and held her hand out. She walked the sparrow back to the window telling it that she would bring it a nice treat later as thanks. She then returned to her seat waiting on James to speak.

He did after a short while. “Did you talk to Clover? Is that how you calmed her?”

Flora laughed and replied, “Yes. She was very scared but I’m glad I could help.” Her smile faded. “She felt that she failed you by running.”

“Can you tell her I don’t feel that way the next time you see her?”

She reached over to him and laid her hand on his arm. “Silly, she’s a horse. She’s already let go of that.”

“Horses are wise then.”

“Very.” She laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I... I’m not sure I should say,” she said feeling the heat rising in her cheeks.

James winked at her and asked, “I thought we were being open?”

“True. Clover is much more interested in why we haven’t produced a foal.”

James turned the same shade of scarlet she had earlier experienced.

Flora giggled. “I’m sorry.”

He cleared his throat. “Ahem... no. She’s a very direct creature, isn’t she?”

“Very.”

Flora smiled and after a few minutes of warm silence said, “I should return home to check on my friends.”

James stood and offered her his hand. Flora gladly took it and stood. “May I call upon you soon? Hopefully in more... relaxed circumstances?”

Flora buried her head into his chest. “Of course! I would be honored.”

He smiled and said, “I will have the carriage prepared and drive you home.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine walking,” Flora protested.

He insisted on walking with her. “I daren’t let you go alone at the very least. From the way Clara looked this morning, she might cause a revolt among the staff if I mistreat you in that fashion.”

“James, are you sure it’s wise for you to return alone through the forest?”

“I think if the spirit wanted me gone, it’s had at least two opportunities and has passed. If anything, I think it has some purpose for me yet; otherwise, why am I sharing your dream?”

Flora considered this. “Clover isn’t the only one who is wise and clever.” She blinked. That... felt familiar somehow, but it was like a memory that was just slightly out of reach.

“Is something the matter, Flora?”

“Nothing, James. I don’t think it’s anything. Just something tugging at my memory, but it’s gone if it ever existed in the first place.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” she said with a smile.

James and Flora made their way out of the manor house and walked arm in arm to her home. She tried in vain to think on what had sparked some half-memory? Was it Clover? Wise, clever Clover? It mattered little she imagined, so she put it out of her mind and began checking on her friends.

The next few days moved quickly by and turned into quickly moving weeks where Flora had scant time for reflection. James visited her often and they had both quickly agreed that the emotion of that first two days had perhaps moved things more quickly than either of them felt comfortable. It wasn’t to say that either regretted meeting the other in such fashion or revealing the depth of their feelings. Both simply valued the other’s reputation too much to risk an incident that would give the village gossips any cause to create scandal.

Still, it was obvious to all that the two were quite taken with each other. The greatest test had come three weeks into the blossoming relationship with an unannounced visit from James’ mother for afternoon tea. The initial stages of the discussion were rather tense, and Flora felt a great deal of fear as it was quite possible that James would not wish to continue if his mother did not approve. However—and Flora was not quite sure how—she had charmed the Lady Summerset who was quite impressed by Flora’s classical education most especially her fluency in French, Latin, and Greek. Flora had never been gladder to be the child of two schoolteachers than she was in that moment. Lady Summerset had given her approval to the nascent relationship and declared privately to Flora that with James’ business sense and her gentle nature and educational legacy, she was eager to see the match completed. This left Flora quite stunned, but quite happy.

The dreams did continue for both, but they took solace in each other and resolved to face whatever came side by side. Flora had never felt this connected to another person. As the days lengthened and spring gave way to summer, Flora asked James to a picnic. She wanted to enjoy the warm sun and couldn’t imagine a better person with whom to share the experience.

She spread the blanket and motioned James to sit beside her. He was looking out over the field of wild heather. The sun was still low in the sky, but Flora could tell that it would be hot later. “I’m glad we decided on an early lunch, James,” she remarked as he sat beside her.

“If it means more time with you, my love, I am glad to have lunch as early as you like.”

Flora blushed. “Thank you. I’m glad of your company as well.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, Flora,” James began looking much more serious than the moment before. “If... hmm... I should do this properly...” He maneuvered until he was on one knee.

Flora’s breath caught. Could he mean to...

“Flora, would you do me the honor of being my wife?” His face was a picture of nervous excitement.

She did not leave him in suspense. Flora wrapped her arms around him and kissed him passionately. “Yes,” she whispered into his ear. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” She couldn’t contain her joy. All her dreams were coming true.

Standing, she danced through the heather watching as some gorgeous yellow and purple butterflies began circling her. The butterflies began to increase in number, and Flora stopped puzzled. There must be hundreds of them, she remarked to herself.

James joined her amongst the heather. “I’ve never seen the like. Have you, Flora?”

“No,” she responded. This seemed so... familiar. “Butterflies...” She knew this. How did she know this?

As if a bolt of lightning had struck her, Flora realized this was the sign. “James, this is what the voice told me to watch. This is the sign.” Something tugged at her memory and for a reason she couldn’t fathom, she felt as if a ball of ice had settled in her stomach.

“Flora? Are you alright, my dear?” James asked worriedly.

“I don’t know.”

As she said this, the butterfly swarm flew off deeper into the field but only a short distance as if waiting for her to follow. With a look at James who nodded in return, they held hands and walked after the butterflies. When they approached the butterflies, the swarm fluttered away deeper into the fields. When they stopped, so did the swarm. After a few minutes, the butterflies settled in a rocky area devoid of vegetation. Flora and James moved into the outcropping as well. In the center floating several inches above a flat rock, a crystal butterfly as big as Flora’s hand hovered spinning slowly. As it turned, the light reflected through it yellow and pink.

“Amazing,” James whispered.

Flora nodded. “The key.”

The same eerie flicker of movement they had both now experienced several times twitched at the edge of their vision. This time, however, the flicker coalesced into a strange creature, seemingly part serpent and part horse. It smiled at them, but Flora felt no warmth in its dull yellow eyes.

“Discord,” she said.

“Oh, it’s so good to be recognized at last, Fluttershy... or do you prefer Flora these days?”

James looked at Flora, confused.

She remembered. Discord had broken free once more. Twilight had gathered her and the others. They had confronted the creature together determined not to let him manipulate them again. After that, everything became a haze.

“Piecing it together, my dear?”

She nodded.

“I think James does deserve an explanation, though, wouldn’t you say?”

She nodded once more. “James, this is Discord. He is a draconequus—a creature of strife and chaos.”



James blinked stunned into silence.

“All true, my good fellow. All true.” Discord began lazily circling the pair.

They made no move, quite aware he had them at a disadvantage. Flora’s eyes flicked to the crystal butterfly.

Discord noticed. “One moment, my dear, before you hastily snatch up the key. Will you hear me out?”

She had little choice, so she humored Discord.

“James, Dear Fluttershy or the woman you know as Flora and I come from another land. Another world, really.”

“Another world?”


“Mm-hmm,” Discord responded as his snakelike body undulated, now above the key. “She and her friends once defeated me and sealed me in stone. Which, by the by, is a fate far worse than it sounds, for a being of intrinsic freedom such as myself.” He laughed at some private joke. “Allow me to revise that statement. They did not actually defeat me, although they certainly did seal me back into stone.”


Flora frowned. “W-we did d-d-defeat you!” she said her voice faltering far more than she cared for.

“D-d-d-d-d-d-id you?” The spirit mocked her. “Come now, Fluttershy! Screw your courage to the sticking place! How do you expect to protect James if you can barely utter a sentence? Hmm?” It entwined around the pair. They blanched, feeling its musty, decayed breath on them. “No, my dear, I... cheated. Unfortunately, even something as outside the rules as myself must obey the rules I myself set forth in a contest, and so I lost at that very moment and the fate of the contest was sealed as I soon was myself.”

Flora tried to figure out precisely what he was getting at.

“Don’t worry for it was easy to miss. It was a small thing. My task was to tempt or trick you and your pastel pony playmates into abandoning the garden maze.”

And she understood. “Oh.”

Discord smiled once more returning to his place over the butterfly key. “Yes. That simple utterance encapsulates the entire concept quite nicely. Fascinating how such a small sound can mean... so much.” He twisted in and around himself lost in thought for several moments before continuing. “Were you tempted?”

“No.”

“Were you tricked?”

“No.”

“And I in my frustration took what I wanted and used brute force to manipulate you instead of finding a better way. Sometimes I possess even less patience than that rainbow-maned one. What is her name?” He pondered that for a second. “Bah!” he declared. “None of them are important! Not even the smug, know-it-all Twilight Sparkle.”

James looked at Flora. “I don’t understand, Flora.”

She gripped his hand. “I’ll explain it as soon as this is over. Do you trust me?”

He smiled down at her trying to be brave and she loved him all the more for it. “Of course, my love. Always.”

Discord chuckled. “Well, that is one option I admit. You can explain it to him later. That is one end to this little reunion.”

“W-what do you mean, Discord? Where are my friends?”

“Oh... much the same way as I did with you, I deposited them in the world of their dreams... although you’re the only one that ended up here and human. Such a strange creature is a human.” He eyed James. “So like your ponykind in certain ways but so, so different in others.” Discord made a gesture and four orbs floated in front of Flora. One was pink, one was orange, one was white, and one seemed to flicker between purple and a shade of blue that matched the sky on a clear summer’s day.

“Just windows, Dear Fluttershy. Just windows,” Discord explained. “They are if I may say so rather happy in that little world. Their own slices of heaven is a nice way to put it even though it might appear otherwise to an outsider, I made sure that each would have the life that would give them the most satisfaction possible.”

Flora gathered her wits and her courage. The hook was here somewhere in Discord’s words. Why give them happiness? “What do you want, Discord?”

“Oh. That.” He lazily floated to tease out the moment. “I want to hurt you.” In a flash, he was hovering right in front of Flora’s face. She refused to run or cower. Too much was on the line. “Excellent! I always knew you had courage. Oh, and don’t try your stare. That can’t work on a mind as slippery as mine.” He grinned at her.

James had had enough. “You won’t hurt her, Beast, if I have anything to say!”

That amused Discord greatly. “I like him, Fluttershy. I’m glad I picked him. He’s perfect for you! Which I suppose is entirely the point.”

Flora could sense the moment approached, and with dread she asked the question she knew in her heart that Discord wanted to hear. “How are you going to hurt me, Discord? Are you going to try to take this away from me? I’ll find a way to fight you!”

Discord’s laughter rang out echoing all around them. His laughter was brief, and his face became serious. “I know. I’m very aware of what you and your little pony friends are capable of when facing opposition.”

“Then what?”

“A choice is all. You, Fluttershy, have everything you could ever want. So do your friends. I don’t believe you even mind having to adopt a different form for this world, do you?”

Flora shook her head. “No, I’m still me in my heart.”



“Flora,” James asked. “Have you known this the whole time?”

“No, James! Please believe me. I’ve lived an entire life here.” She turned to Discord. “Are all my memories false?”

“No. There is a sublime beauty in patience. Believe me, it wasn’t easy for a being such as myself to exercise it, but the only false memories belong to your ‘parents’ in that your mother was barren and never realized that she became pregnant through a spark of magic when I installed your soul in her womb. The rest... happened as it happened.”

She was glad of this. She may have lived two lives, but she was glad that neither was false. “What is this choice you offer?”

Discord closed his eyes in pleasure. This was the moment he relished. “I realized as I was locked back into the cold, lifeless form of a statue... that I utterly despise you. You shrugged my temptations and insinuations off as if they were nothing and you don’t even have the excuse of arrogance like your compatriots. No... you’re simply... pure.” He uttered the last word as if it was something he had to wretch up from the depths. “So it is you I especially want to hurt, but not to kill you or anything so... common. No. You deserve to be... ruined.”

Flora remained silent and kept her grip on James’ hand both for courage and to prevent him from doing something foolish and noble.

Discord seemed to tire of flying and reclined among the rocks idly looking at the crystal butterfly. “So you have a choice. Right now, I rule Equestria. The populace is rather miserable. They will continue to suffer, but you and your friends know true happiness. You have found that rarest of gifts... true love.” All traces of amusement fled from his face. Flora felt that for perhaps the first time ever, she saw the true Discord. He looked exhausted and bitter.

“So choose. Save Equestria and give up your love forever, or stay here and your friends will stay where they are and Equestria remains mine. As I said, no opposition. Nothing so direct. You get to pick which outcome. The one and only caveat is that you and only you, Fluttershy, will remember, out of all your friends and acquaintances or anypony else really. They’ll simply go back to their lives moments after our little scuffle. You however will always know that you’ve given up the one chance of love you’ll ever have. Trust me that this is a singular moment of honesty, because...” he paused for effect. “The truth hurts.”

She would have to give up everything and take her friends away from their happiness too. “I’ll find a way back here.”

“No, you already know that isn’t true. You’ll never get back. Only I know the path. Only a being such as myself can breach the barrier between the worlds.”

The words struck a chord in her. Flora could feel the magic binding the words into fate. She looked at James. He cupped her cheek and kissed her gently knowing it was the last time. “I’m afraid there isn’t much choice is there, Flora?”

“No, James, there isn’t. So many ponies are hurting because of Discord. Could we be truly happy in the face of that?”

“Ponies?” he asked.

She nodded. “It’s... complicated.”

“So it would seem.”

Discord had tired of the moment and was idly examining his left claw flexing the talons. “The offer isn’t going to last much longer.”

James looked at Discord with disgust. “I don’t understand. How will this get you what you want? How will this hurt Flora?” He frowned at this as the thought of her in pain struck at his soul.

“She’s pure. She loves. She is kindness incarnate.”

“Yes?” James answered confused.

Flora already knew the next part, so she offered no protest. She simply held James knowing they had little time left.

Discord laughed once more at his own cleverness. “I will have taught her an invaluable lesson. Hatred. Fluttershy the kind, loving, gentle, timid creature that takes care of squirrels and bunnies and all the other oh-so-cutesy creatures... will hate me absolutely and entirely and without reserve. She will know pain and hatred and rage.”

He gestured over the crystal butterfly beckoning Flora to take it. “I win.”

“Yes, you do, Discord,” Flora answered. She turned to James one final time. “I love you.”

He kissed her again. “And I love you. At least... at least we will remember each other.”

“Yes,” she said although she knew that would only sharpen the pain.

“Don’t worry,” Discord interrupted. “I’ve peeked into the future. James will find a wife out of duty and have children to carry on his name. He’ll never love her, though. A shame.” The creature made a tsking noise and waited for Flora’s response.

Quickly, she walked over to touch the butterfly.

She paused as Discord cleared his throat.

"One final thing. It's a very small item which might be of no interest to you; however, I feel I must…" He drifted into a false silence.

Flora was very aware the creature simply wanted to toy with her a moment longer. "Well?" she asked. She was at her wit's end by this point and that paired with her impending loss steeled her resolve.

"I'm afraid you must suffer in silence. I'll go back into my statue and be a good, quiet boy. That is I will until you tell anypony anything of what's transpired. If you do, I'm free and this little sacrifice will be meaningless."

Without another word, Flora touched the crystal, and with a single brief flash of light, she and Discord disappeared, leaving a desolate James to his fate.

Flora felt herself become Fluttershy once more. She felt the warm, English summer air fade and the cool autumn Equestrian air of Canterlot envelope her. She and her friends and the princesses stood at the entrance of the garden maze in front of a statue of a draconequus.

Twilight Sparkle spoke first. “What happened? One second we’re preparing to use the Elements of Harmony... and the next, Discord is already a statue?”

The others voiced their puzzlement as well and several minutes of discussion ensued before they decided that Discord had somehow been defeated and they would continue to investigate in the morning. Fluttershy remained silent and no one noticed, which wasn't surprising to her. She had spent so much of her life trying to fade into the background, that unless she willfully inserted herself into the conversation, nopony ever seemed to notice. She held her nerve until she was alone in her room as the princesses had kindly set aside guest quarters for each of the Elements. Only then when she was sure that everypony had left for their own rooms and wouldn't disturb her did she allow herself to lie on her bed crying as quietly as she could. She had known happiness for a brief time.

She knew that she would never know that love again.