Of Gods and Butterflies
By Carcassi
Prologue
Part One
A long time ago, in a kingdom so ancient even its name has been forgotten, there lived a poor but honest shepherd named Gabriel, a widower, and his two infant daughters, Chloe and Lana. The pastures where he grazed his sheep, near the king's great city of Metropolis, were so rich and plentiful that, though money was scarce, the shepherd managed to keep his little family comfortable.
But one fateful day a curse fell upon the kingdom, raining fire from the sky, despoiling the crops, burning the grasslands, and impoverishing the people. Even King Leo the Crafty had not gone unscathed; his only son Prince Alexander bore the mark of the curse on his hairless brow—no doubt a punishment from the gods, some whispered, for his father's many transgressions. When strange monsters began to attack villages and threaten unsuspecting travelers, even the most skeptical of the king's subjects began to wonder if the kingdom could long survive.
The fire took many of Gabriel's sheep and the king's tax collectors thinned the herd further, leaving his family with enough only for the barest necessities. To make things more difficult, the dwindling supply of free grazing land forced the family to wander further out into the countryside each year.
But even though life had become a struggle, Gabriel felt blessed by his family, and especially took pleasure in his younger child, Chloe, whose curiosity and eagerness to learn were matched only by her sun-filled smile and kind disposition. While her sister spent her days combing her raven-dark hair and observing her beauty in a looking glass, Chloe helped her father tend his few remaining sheep and clambered over barren slopes in search of fresh pasture and new adventure.
The rough outdoor life she led suited her; it reddened her cheeks and brightened her eyes until they resembled the sunlit green of a spring glade. She preferred simple brown homespun skirts to colored woolens, and gladly left to her sister most of their late mother's few pieces of jewelry, except for one: A slender golden bracelet set with small butterflies, which she wore at all times, in memory of her mother.
Over the years both girls grew in grace and loveliness, until at last the day came when Lana, who was Chloe's elder by a year, turned sixteen and asked her father if they might move closer to the king's city. "No one ever comes here," she complained, sweeping her lustrous hair from her shoulder, "How will I find a good husband?"
Gabriel's heart sank at her words, for he dreaded losing his two most precious treasures to any other man. Yet, even worse was the thought that no eligible suitor might be found for them, poor and dowerless as they were. However, he said nothing of this to Lana, managing a reassuring smile and a quick pat on her hand.
"I'd like to see Metropolis, too, Father," Chloe said as she tied bread, cheese and fruit into a bundle for her and her father's lunch in the fields that day. "But not because I need a husband. In a big city like that, I could find out if the strange stories travelers have told us are true. I might even learn how to lift the curse."
Gabriel sighed. "Very well, children. I promise you that one day, as soon as I can find work, we'll go back to Metropolis."
Lana laughed prettily at her sister. "Imagine not wanting a husband! I don't know why you care so much about those silly tales. What good will they ever do you?"
Taking no notice of her sister's indulgent laughter, Chloe slung the bundle over her shoulder and headed outdoors with her father, wishing with all her heart that her dream might come true one day.
Part Two
While her father tended the flock, Chloe went exploring as usual, eager to be out in the early May sunshine. Binding her skirts up above her knee so that her sandaled feet could stride freely, she crossed unfamiliar fields, until at last she discovered a narrow trail that led into a densely wooded thicket.
No sooner had she set foot under the eaves of the forest than a faint moaning reached her ears, which seemed to come from somewhere nearby. Afraid of robbers, Chloe hastily seized a fallen tree branch to use as a weapon, but when it was clear she was not being pursued, her curiosity overcame her fear. Holding the bough in both hands like a club, she ventured forward.
Another low groan sounded, and something moved in the shadows at the base of a huge oak tree. She held her breath and crept closer to get a better view.
Sprawled in the underbrush was a dark-haired boy about her own age, grimacing as if in pain. Near his head were scattered several chunks of rock, glittering with a green light that was far too bright to be natural.
Dropping her makeshift club, Chloe ran forward and knelt beside the boy, eyeing him with a mixture of concern and wonder. Very seldom had she met any boys, and never one as handsome as this. Although he wore a plain peasant's tunic like her father's, his features, even twisted in agony, were that of a young god. Only the sickly green cast to his skin looked out of place.
The boy's lips moved, forcing her to lean closer to listen. "The rocks make me sick," he whispered, "Please help me."
Chloe watched in horror as a grotesque spiderweb of dark lines appeared on his arms. More lines crawled up his neck, and he moaned again, this time in a weaker voice. Jumping to her feet, she heaved all the stones as far away as she could and saw, in amazed relief, that the evil pallor was already receding.
"How do you feel?" she asked anxiously.
The youth lay motionless for a moment, chest heaving as he gulped in air, while a healthy flush slowly returned to his cheeks. Finally, apparently completely recovered, he sat up and smiled, meeting her gaze for the first time.
She was amazed to see that his eyes matched the rocks in both color and intensity. In the warm spring sunshine, they were as sparkling, and as hypnotic, as a deep lake on a quiet day. Chloe felt as if she could spend the rest of the morning staring into them.
The boy seemed to feel the same way; he studied her with such frank admiration that she looked away in embarrassment. "Much better, thanks to you."
A tingle went up her bare arms at the warmth in his tone. "What were those rocks?" she asked him, seizing the chance to satisfy her curiosity. "They look like the ones that people say fell from the sky, but I've never seen them glow like that before."
The boy's face closed off so quickly that Chloe was certain that this was a question he would rather not discuss. "My parents always told me to stay away from them. I should have been more careful." He ended the subject with a shrug, and smiled at her again. "My name is Kent."
She returned the smile, putting aside her questions for the moment. "My name is Chloe, daughter of Gabriel, the shepherd."
"Pleased to meet you." A gentle hand reached out to brush a curl from her brow, causing her to jerk back with a startled gasp. The youth tilted his head as if puzzled. "Don't be afraid," he said, withdrawing his hand at once. "I only wondered why your hair is cut short like a boy's." He paused. "It looks beautiful in the sunlight, like spun gold."
"I like short hair," she replied curtly, shocked that this boy's touch should make the blood rush to her cheeks. Eying him warily, she asked, "What are you doing out here? I haven't seen any homes nearby."
His eyes lost their sparkle, and his face darkened. "My adoptive parents were farmers near here, but they are both gone now," he murmured sadly. "The farm was taken to pay the king's taxes." Looking away, his voice lowered almost to a whisper. "My true father has spoken to me. He told me what…..I mean, who, I really am, and he wants me to come live with him. That's where I was going when……"
He waved towards the trail, which, Chloe saw, was blocked by a massive tree trunk a few yards further along. The trunk was split cleanly in two, as if it had been hit by lightning.
"….I tripped," he finished.
As Chloe blinked at the shattered tree, he added, quickly, "Over a root."
Chloe wondered how the boy had landed so far away from the tree, but his tale had touched her so deeply that she chose not to press the point. "I hope you don't have far to go," she told him. "The woods at night can be dangerous. There could be outlaws living here. Or even monsters, if you believe the stories."
"Monsters?" The question came sharp and swift. "What monsters?"
His abrupt change in tone took her by surprise. "I thought everyone in the kingdom had heard about the monsters," she replied, peering at him uncertainly. "Some say they were once ordinary people, who were cursed the day the fire fell from the sky."
The boy, she noticed, winced and dropped his head when she mentioned the fire, as if she'd brought up a particularly painful memory, even though Kent couldn't have been much more than a toddler, like herself, when it happened. That was odd, too.
"I don't talk much to strangers," he said, frowning darkly. "My true father tells me that huma…..that is, other people….can't be trusted. Not even my adoptive parents told me the truth."
"But the more people you talk to, the more you learn," Chloe countered, reasonably. "And the more we know, the better we can fight this curse."
When he looked up, Chloe was startled to see something glistening in his eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. "I wish it were that easy."
Chloe frowned, puzzled. "I never said finding out the truth was easy," she told him. "But it's important."
The steady, solemn gaze he turned on her was a little unnerving, but she met it unwaveringly. At last, he gave her a thoughtful nod. "My father would agree with that, I think."
Kent sprang to his feet so quickly that she scarcely saw him move. Extending a hand, he pulled her up with surprising ease, and her eyes wandered admiringly over the golden skin of his bare legs and up the length of a well-muscled tunic-clad torso. Kent was at least half a head taller than she, even though they seemed to be about the same age.
She felt her cheeks burning as she lifted her face to meet his gaze. She'd never noticed a boy in quite this way before. Her feelings confused and frightened her, but they were also, strangely, very pleasurable.
A pair of very large, very sad eyes blinked down at her. "I'd better be on my way," he said with a touch of regret in his voice.
"Stay the night with us," Chloe offered impulsively, reluctant to say goodbye so soon. "You'd travel better with a good night's rest."
Before she had time to worry about how Gabriel might react if she brought home a strange boy to sleep over, Kent was already shaking his head. "You don't know what you're asking."
She squared her shoulders and tried to look older than her fifteen years. "Of course I do."
He searched her face. "What if I told you I was a monster?"
For a moment she stood motionless under that intense emerald gaze, thinking of the mysterious glowing rocks and wondering, a little fearfully, why his eyes resembled them so much. Still, she kept her chin lifted, and her voice steady. "Are you going to attack me?"
His eyes widened in obvious horror. "Of course not!"
She exhaled in barely-concealed relief. "Then," she observed tartly, "you're not a monster. It's what you do that matters, not what you are."
The delighted grin that spread across his face at her words dazzled her with its brilliance. "I like you, Chloe-daughter-of-Gabriel. I wish I had met you sooner."
Kent sighed. "But my father is expecting me." His grave expression, as he looked down at her, added years to his age. "Please be careful of these monsters. They sound dangerous."
His concern seemed so sincere that she smiled. "My father says the monsters should be afraid of me," she said lightly, "If they exist."
"I think they do," he told her softly. His mouth quirked upward. "Although your father might be right. If I were a monster, I'd be afraid of you—and your quest for the truth."
Chloe told herself that it was silly to think of any boy as "fascinating." That mooning over boys was what Lana did, not her. But staring up at Kent's earnest face, she felt sure that she would never meet anyone else with eyes quite so deep, or a smile quite so captivating. Or a mystery quite so irresistible.
She watched as slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned to leave. At the last minute, almost without thinking, she reached out to touch his arm. "Wait!"
At once he stopped, looking around at her expectantly.
"Will I ever see you again?" she asked, her throat tightening. It was, she told herself, no doubt because she felt sorry for him. After all, he was alone and motherless.
His head tilted slightly at her question, eyes crinkling thoughtfully. "I don't know. I suppose I could ask my father. It would be nice to see you again." He smiled, so obviously pleased at the thought that Chloe felt another blush creep up her cheeks.
"Aren't you even bringing anything from your farm?" she demanded, quick to change the subject. Her gaze took in his outfit, which was far too skimpy to hold any baggage. Or to hide the shapely lines of his body. Chloe felt her blush deepen, and quickly forced her eyes upward.
Kent shrugged. "My father says I don't need anything from my old life."
Chloe's heart broke a little. The thought of Kent leaving his home without so much as a trinket from his mother was too much. Didn't Kent's father want him to remember the people who'd loved him and cared for him?
She knew her family would never understand what she was about to do, but she knew she had to do it. "Take this," she told him, fumbling with the catch of her butterfly bracelet. "In memory of me, and of your old home." She lifted his large palm and dropped the slender chain into its hollow.
Kent stared at her. "I can't take that. It's gold, it must be very valuable."
"Then you'll definitely remember me, won't you?" Chloe grinned, and leaned closer to give him a quick kiss.
The look of dumbfounded amazement on his face was, surprisingly, not silly at all. Grin fading, she met his gaze solemnly. "Now that we have that over," she whispered, "we can be friends."
Kent held her eyes for a long moment. "I'll never forget you." He took a few steps down the path, and paused, turning his head for one last look. "I promise."