The road stretching from Agnor, the holy capital of Luthien, to the border with the kingdom of Valloren. Along this path, said to have been laid in the footsteps of the god himself, two horses galloped tirelessly.
Clop-clop-clop—
The party was small. Yet the riders were anything but unimpressive.
Archbishop of Repose Masiu Beltirein. And the man who had not yet received the name of the god of light, but whom people already rightfully called “Magnificence.” Dominic Wolf.
Holding the reins loosely, Masiu glanced at Dominic riding beside him. It was the gaze of a master admiring a work of art into which he had poured years of painstaking labor.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Archbishop?”
“I was admiring the form of Magnificence.”
“I have not become it yet...”
A short objection. But there was neither humility nor impatience in those words. Only a calm tone stating a fact.
The Pope had been absent for a long time. Because of that, Dominic had still not been granted the name and authority of the god of light, “Luthien.” Yet the mastery he had achieved without divine power had long since surpassed the other Magnificences.
In this, his first official appearance, the heretics of Valloren would be forced to fall to their knees before him in agony. Spreading into a smile, Masiu spoke.
“We will stay the night in the nearest village today.”
“...Isn’t our schedule tight?”
“It seems the matter on Remesia’s side will require a little more time. And besides... there is someone we need to meet.”
At those words, Dominic tilted his head in confusion.
“Someone we need to meet?”
“You will be glad to see them.”
The village they arrived at was small. But as befitted Luthien territory, a church stood unchanging at its very center. It was a sanctuary of familiar architecture, where the names of Luthien and his six brothers were worshipped.
Rustle—
The two headed there without hesitation. Only when they stood before the church doors did Dominic realize who the “person” Masiu had spoken of was.
“...Director Audrey.”
An elderly gray-haired nun. A gentle smile rested in her deep wrinkles.
“I am no longer the director, yet you still call me that.”
She bowed respectfully and continued.
“That I should be granted the honor of receiving the Archbishop and the candidate for Magnificence is truly the Lord’s profound providence. Please, come inside.”
The three settled in comfortably, and a long conversation began. Naturally, it drifted toward the past that bound them together.
“Audrey House.” The moment that name was spoken, Audrey lowered her eyes for an instant.
“What a blessing. That the candidate for Magnificence grew up with such unshakable faith and dignity. If that chaos had lasted just a little longer... such grace would not have been granted to us.”
“That day.” At those words, the smile on Masiu’s face froze.
“That day, you say...”
Masiu continued quietly.
“If you mean the incident when that filthy apostate... that heretic serving as a spy for the Ravens dared step into Audrey House, then on a joyful day like today, it is hardly worth raising the subject again.”
His tone was gentle. But every word carried a clearly drawn line. It sounded like a declaration: that day was already a settled past, and there was no reason to stir it up again.
Dominic’s brows twitched almost imperceptibly. A tiny display of emotion no one would have noticed.
In truth, Dominic too felt uneasy when remembering “that day.” An unpleasant sensation, as if something were squeezing his chest. Disgust and aversion reflexively flared up, difficult to explain.
...But. At the very bottom of those feelings lurked a strange sense of alienness. As if beneath emotions imposed from somewhere outside, memories and feelings that should have been there were weakly resisting...
“...Raymond, was it?”
One name surfaced, and that was all. Only a few years had passed, yet what he had said, the expression on his face—everything was veiled in haze, as if lost in fog. And at the exact moment Dominic tried to seize that memory and revive it...
“Magnificence, have some more wine.”
Masiu calmly offered, lifting his glass. Red wine swirled in the bottle. A delicate sweet-sour aroma spread through the air, while snow quietly fell outside the window.
A devoted mentor. And Sister Audrey, who had cared for him since childhood.
In this peaceful moment beside them, there was no reason to dig up memories of the man who had burned Audrey House, tried to abduct the candidates for Magnificence, and in the end met his death. Dominic decided not to think about it anymore. Looking at him, Masiu smiled radiantly.
“Let unnecessary memories settle at the bottom of the glass... Let us enjoy this night of grace together.”
***
The boy before him, unable to hide his anxiety after not receiving an answer, looked up at Gunther.
“Why are you silent? Didn’t we finish talking this through? You didn’t change your mind at the last second, did you? You saw what kind of place this is!”
Meanwhile, Gunther’s head was full of questions. Why, in this illusory space, was the center of the story not Remesia, but Dominic’s history? Was Remesia connected to this “escape”? Or was this part of a test prepared by the orphanage to identify dissidents?
“......”
No matter what, continuing to stay silent would be strange. Gunther looked straight into Dominic’s blue eyes and spoke in a deliberately cold voice.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Escape... Is this some kind of joke?”
“No...!”
“Don’t do anything foolish and return to the dormitory.”
A strange nuance slipped into that line. It sounded like a complete denial of Dominic’s words, yet at the same time like a warning from a conspirator urging him not to act rashly.
Gunther trusted him. The Dominic he knew should catch that subtle undertone.
And indeed, Dominic’s expression wavered for a moment. A brief shadow of disappointment flashed across it. However, he did not argue, only nodded and stepped back.
“We’ll talk... later.”
Finally alone, Gunther headed straight for the staff quarters.
“Dominic was abducted several years ago... Has he really been pretending to be brainwashed all this time, waiting for a chance to escape?”
Nothing could be stated with certainty yet. The priority was to learn more about “Raymond.” Gunther yanked open the door to his room.
Inside, belongings lay neatly arranged as if they had just been brought in. All of them belonged to Raymond. Without delay, Gunther began searching through them.
There was not much. They could be checked in an instant. Several changes of clothes. An old Bible. And a stack of neatly folded letters.
From the pattern on the Bible’s cover, Gunther understood that Raymond was a priest of the Cult of Healing.
At that moment, one phrase came to mind.
“It’s me. The letter.”
Gunther’s gaze involuntarily fell on the stack of letters. Dominic, while inside Audrey House, should hardly have been able to write to anyone. Then why had he mentioned “the letter”?
Gunther picked up the stack and began flipping through them one by one. One in particular caught his attention.
To Raymond.
It has grown much colder lately. I hope you are doing well. The library is being renewed now thanks to your donation.
For the past few days I have been busy sorting the archive. There turned out to be more materials than I expected, and the classification is in complete disorder, so it will take time. The old documents are very dusty, so I am trying to be careful not to get dirty in the process.
Ah, yes. I hope you found the book you asked about last time. The cover looks intact, but the pages are so fragile they tear easily, so be extremely careful. Keep that in mind while reading or moving it.
Take care of your health, Raymond. I will contact you again soon.
At first glance, it was an ordinary friendly letter. But to Gunther, trained in Night Raven’s cipher system, everything was crystal clear. Every word was veiled, hinting at the real state of affairs inside Audrey House.
But more important than that was the handwriting. The barely shifted spacing between the lines, the pressure on certain words. Even the direction of the tails on the letters.
Gunther quietly folded the letter.
“Raymond is a Night Raven spy?”
Audrey House was a facility only a select few inside the Theocracy had access to. If he had been assigned here as an inspector-instructor, that meant he was an elite priest who had passed countless examinations. For someone who had seemed a faithful servant of Luthien to the marrow of his bones to be a spy...
“...Hm.”
Of course, he had suspicions. He knew Night Raven spies operated actively within the Theocracy. But their identities were shrouded in secrecy, since they were directed personally by Grand Crow.
At the root of this lay Grand Crow’s unique ability—the power to communicate by appearing in others’ dreams. It became clear why Dominic had been given the code word “letter.”
But in truth, these internal intrigues were not what mattered. Gunther shook his head in confusion.
“This is... strange. Something is clearly wrong here.”
At first, he had thought this was the same as Bellamor Estate. An illusory space. A stage recreating memories. At Bellamor, all events revolved solely around Marien. Choices, development, consequences—everything had been built along a single axis.
But here it was different. Remesia was pushed into the background, while spies, Grand Crow, internal affairs... elements that should not have intertwined were spilling together in disorder.
“In that case, this is not simply an arbitrarily created illusion, but...”
Reaching that thought, Gunther came to an abrupt halt.
“......”
A very strange feeling overtook him. As if something clicked inside his head. The exact sensation that always struck him whenever he stumbled upon a hidden truth.
Of course, the hypothesis that had come to mind was insane. Something like that should have been impossible.
But the more he thought, the clearer his intuition became. Sharp. Frighteningly clear.
Rustle—
Gunther moved forward as if bewitched. Right now, there was something he had to confirm.
Tap-tap—
The path to the director’s office. The dormitory entered his field of view. In the recreation area, children laughed and played around.
Remesia, as if sensing Masiu’s gaze, was reading the Bible with unusual diligence. In a corner of the garden, Yuria sat curled up, but the moment she saw Gunther, she sprang to her feet. It was obvious from her expression that she was desperate to talk.
Everything was far too vivid.
Gunther passed all of these decorations and burst into the director’s office. The gray-haired nun, interrupted in the middle of tea, raised her head in confusion.
“Teacher Raymond? What happened? Good heavens, you’re drenched in sweat... Are you alright?”
“I think I dropped something important on the way.”
Fortunately, Sister Audrey seemed not to suspect anything. Likely because Gunther’s face was pale as a sheet.
“May I step out for a while?”
“Oh, of course. I’ll have them saddle a horse for you.”
Gunther did not hesitate. He mounted immediately and left the orphanage. The sun was already tilting toward sunset, and dusk slid diagonally across the ground.
“Hyah!”
He sharply spurred the horse. The animal, breathing heavily, picked up speed. The shadows of buildings stretched long and quickly disappeared behind him.
First, a small forest flashed by. Fallen leaves scattered beneath the hooves. As soon as the forest ended, a wide field spread out. The grass rippled in waves, and wind rushed over it.
Thirty minutes passed. The scenery did not break.
A hill appeared, then beyond it stretched a dirt road, which in turn changed into a stone highway. Only the sound beneath the hooves changed. The path was still open “farther ahead.”
The sun fully set. The air turned cold, and clothes soaked with sweat clung unpleasantly to his body. But the end never came.
Forest, fields, roads—everything flowed smoothly into one another without the slightest hitch. It was far too unlike Bellamor Estate, where only the space around the mansion had been realized.
Neighhh!
Gunther pulled on the reins. Because at last, he understood. A nervous laugh escaped his chest. His gaze slowly swept across the endless surroundings.
“This place... this is...”
The sense of absurdity and the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) attempt to find a logical explanation vanished. In their place remained only one feeling.
Shock. And with it, a seeping, undeniable awe.
“...This is the past.”
Not an unfinished memory, but the past itself, reopened by the Tablets. Gunther realized that from this moment onward, any intervention by him could completely rewrite the present and the future.
.
.
.
[The status window message is updating]
[Your Tablets and traits are entering resonance.]
[“Overwrite” status detected for past records.]
[The title of the hidden stage is manifesting: “■■■”]
.
.
.
[...Entering hidden stage: “Butterfly Effect”.]
