Chapter 2

Chapter Two.

A butterfly's wings brings gentle breeze to some and calamity for others.

Elena and Alterna returned to their place, with the blond child in her arms. 

She stood in her cabin, the warm glow of amber light flickering from the hearth, casting shadows that danced along the walls. 

The scent of burning wood mingled with the myriad of aromatic herbs drying from the rafters above—a heady mix of rosemary, sage, and thyme that often filled her with a sense of comfort. 

Yet today, an unsettling turmoil churned within her, threatening to unravel the peace she had fought so hard to protect.

Her cabin was a small structure nestled at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a place unknown and unfamiliar for the people outside, also away from the other residents of the forest.

Rough-hewn wooden beams framed the walls, and the slanted roof was covered in dark shingles, each tile imperfect yet snug against the elements. The space was cluttered, not unlike her mind, with potion bottles lined up on shelves, their colorful contents shimmering under the soft glow of lantern light. A large wooden table took center stage, strewn with half-finished brews, crumpled notes, and jars of various dried plants.

Today, however, the table was clear of any task except for the handful of supplies she had set aside for the child. 

The boy lay unconscious on a makeshift cot in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, his small, battered frame barely stirring. The sight of him, marred by injuries and torn clothing, unleashed a torrent of conflicting emotions within her.

"How did he get in here?" Elena could help but asked herself.

The Forest isn't friendly to humans, especially to the people of the empire. Many had attempted to get inside, trying to find some secret treasures as they call it. Many legends and stories have circulated in the land and because of this people got greedy.

Many attempted, yet, no one has ever returned.

Elena who was looking at the window, watching Alterna do her work could not help to scrunch her face.

"What an irresponsible man," she muttered under her breath, her voice low yet laced with venom. 

She was talking about Kael's guardian. The black sword of the empire, the commander of the Night Hawk. 

Lucien D'Aurelle.

The man she despises. 

Her enemy.

He had failed to protect Kael, and she doubted Lucien, that cold-hearted man he is, knows where his disciple has gone missing.

Elena's hands gripped the edge of the table as she leaned over the dimly lit surface, her gaze distant. 

"So much for a hero," she said as she looked towards the child who's sleeping heavily.

The boy's presence ignited a mixture of pity and frustration. She could drive him away—send him back to Lucien—yet she felt a stirring within her, an innate drive to safeguard him, even if Kael had ultimately been destined to become a figure of destruction. That fate felt unbearably heavy on her shoulders.

"Or maybe I should have let the forest consume him," she scoffed, though the words tasted bitter on her tongue. It would have been easier, after all, to remove the threat before he blossomed into someone capable of such lasting devastation. 

"But I'm not cold-hearted like the rest." It was an accusation she often hurled at herself. 

Elena laughed at her words.

The cabin was silent save for the crackling of the fire, yet her thoughts were anything but still. Propping her elbows on the table, she began studying her tinctures and extracts, organizing them based on their properties. 

"What is it you're hiding, little boy?" she mused, casting a glance back at Kael, still lost in his own unconscious world. 

How could a child like him survive in the depths of the Forbidden Forest? The wilderness bristled with cunning beasts, ancient magic, and far darker entities lurking behind the foliage. 

As she worked, her mind wandered. She had chosen to retreat to this place—a sanctuary she had crafted through much effort. 

It was so different now, compared to when she had occupied it in her past life. The once-pristine space she had filled with collections of rare emeralds and exotic timepieces was now overwhelmed with the fragrances of potions and remnants of survival. 

The change felt almost symbolic—reflective of the slow awakening of her own heart.

"How did I not know?" Elena questioned aloud, unfurling a dried leaf of Yarrow and holding it up to the firelight. 

"How could I, a resident of the forest, remain ignorant of a boy wandering alone outside the boundaries of safety?" 

She had resided within the forest long before, a part of its untamed magic, yet detached from its social fabric. 

Had knowledge of Kael's presence eluded her because she had been too absorbed in her own world? So consumed with her pain, bitterness, and indifferentness? 

She tapped her fingers impatiently against the table, letting out an exasperated grunt. 

Even as an outsider, she should have heard whispers of his plight. Children rarely wandered into the woods unscathed; they needed guidance, safety—the very things that had been ripped away from Kael. 

She rummaged through her apothecary shelves before pulling out a small glass vial filled with a rich green liquid. 

This was the Poultice of Healing—an ancient remedy she had painstakingly perfected through years of research. 

"You should thank whatever god you believe in, little child," Elena spoke to herself as she shook the bottle.

"You're in good hands, Kael. I won't let you slip away." She poured a few drops into the palm of her hand, warmed it gently with her fingers, and moved closer to the child.

As she observed Kael's sleeping form again, a flood of memories washed over her—bitter reflections of the colder, resentful Elena of the past. 

She had once scoffed at human frailty, too consumed by her own grievances to recognize their struggles. "That part of me didn't care if your kind fell into the shadows," she whispered, feeling the heaviness in her chest grow. 

"But look where it has landed us both now."

She took a deep breath, letting the tension slip from her shoulders, and realized that a shift had begun within her. 

Maybe this regression—this second chance—is something she didn't even expect. She thought she would fail or at least she would pay for the price of the forbidden magic by her life.

That's what every book she had read would say the consequence would be.

The forest around her could speak, bursting with tales of loss and longing. Those stories clung to the trees, lingered in the mist that veiled the dawn. 

The whispers of the woods beckoned her, urging her to listen—yet it was beyond that. It was the realization that she had resisted, stood firm against the idea of change, believing that her icy demeanor insulated her from hurt.

"Some witches would call this the 'butterfly effect,'" she murmured, contemplating the lessons threaded through the chaos of time. Yet she hadn't believed it before—thought it some fanciful notion only the naive would entertain. A slight smile tugged at her mouth, the irony not lost on her now. 

Was this magic transforming her, showing her that every choice, every flicker of emotion, rippled across time and space?

Elena began preparing a potion to deepen Kael's slumber, old recipes rearing themselves in her mind, the steps familiar but different. If she were to change the narrative of his existence, she needed him alive—an ally rather than an adversary. The weight of responsibility pressed against her; the magic of the forest buzzed around her, reminding her of the fragility they both occupied in the web of fate.

Grabbing a small cauldron, she set it over the embers of the fireplace, adding water and several splashes of crushed nightshade, known for its soothing properties. 

The ancient alchemy sang to her as she combined the ingredients, joy sparking in her veins at the rhythm of creation. The air thickened with the heady scent, invoking visions of the possible futures that lay before her.

It's been a while, she didn't know that she would miss this labor. It was one of the things she hated to do in the past.

"Once you're awake, I shall look into you ," she vowed softly, stirring the potion slowly. "If your master cannot monitor you then I will, so brace yourself" Elena muttered with a grin on her face.

'I will show your master who's the better guardian between us.'

'I will crush him.'

She closed her eyes momentarily and thought of the truth she had learned throughout her battles.

Knowledge unburdened by despair could spark hope as easily as magic could emerge from pain. Perhaps it wasn't only about Kael's potential; it was about giving him, and herself, the chance to obscure the shadows with light, to demand a future of their choosing.

Once the potion boiled gently, she poured it into a small glass vial, sealing it tightly. She knew its efficacy would ease Kael's pain and keep him strong until he could begin to heal. "You'll need strength, little one," she whispered, biting back frustration, for she had once been blind to all of this—the perils of being merely human in a magical world. 

But now, having glimpsed the enormity of the forest's depth and its legacy, she didn't intend to allow the past to repeat itself. And so, she began to formulate the plan that would steer them both away from that darkened path: she'd keep him here—safeguard him until he was strong enough to face the world outside.

That was the plan…

The bubbling cauldron was now bereft of sound, and the small cabin fell steeped in tranquility, woven together with the promise of a different future.

So much had changed, but in keeping him close to her, she dared to dream of wholeness, reclaiming not just his destiny but her own, memorializing each spark of light against the inevitable darkness that lay beyond their ephemeral safety.

As the deep forest swallowed the last light of the day, shadows stretched tall against the walls of her cabin, but those shadows lingered unwillingly against the warmth spread through the air. The forbidden magic whispered promises of enchantment entwined with survival.

A butterfly is bound to cause calamities.