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(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 75: A Song of Butterflies
🕑 Added 2025-09-25 14:00:15 +0000 UTCChapter 75: A Song of Butterflies
123 AC, Naath
Instead of the volcanic island, she saw sand that was whiter than she ever thought possible and an ocean as blue as a sapphire before her. Baela realised that she was gaping when she turned towards the sorcerer who was grinning smugly at her, “Welcome, Baela Targaryen, to the island of Naath.”
Baela Targaryen looked around her, simply marvelling at the sight around her. The sea was almost motionless, the breeze soft and warm, carrying the faint scent of flowers she didn’t recognise. Behind her, she could see a small forest of tall trees and bushes. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before.
She thought back on what Lord Harry called this place. Naath. It was familiar, but she could not place it. It did sound Essosi, though. The only place that sounded similar was Qarth, and her father deeply disliked that place, calling it a haven of cowardly copper-counters and mind-addled priests with delusions of grandeur and sorcery.
Her confusion must have shown on her face, as the sorcerer grinned slightly, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that your father did not share one of Valyria’s greatest failings.”
“How so?” Baela asked, intrigued.
“Well, this island is between the Valyrian Peninsula and the Summer Isles, in the middle of the Summer Sea. And yet, Valyria never managed to conquer it.”
Baela wasn’t the best when it came to maps, but even she knew that a trip to the Summer Isles would take weeks, at the very least, by ship. Magic or not, putting Moondancer to sleep or not, she had never heard of anything like that before, even in the old legends from the Age of Heroes. “How did we get here? How is this possible?”
“There is more to the world than most would ever imagine. One need only look and understand.”
“Somehow, I don’t think that this is it,” Baela replied dryly, “Or else the Maesters would have conquered the world.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong. Very few Maesters truly observe the world around them, most choosing the company of dusty old books over anything,” the man replied, making Baela release a giggle, “Fewer try to understand the world, and I can think of none that have ever doubted the Citadel’s knowledge, in both matters of science and of magic. The Citadel might wield a lot of power, but inflexible men who do not doubt their own findings would never be able to understand the world they live in truly.”
Baela would admit that this confused her slightly, but she didn’t particularly care. Instead, she focused on the island around her, “Can you tell me more about this place?”
The man nodded with a kind smile, “Of course. The Valyrians tried to conquer this place three times, so much so that they built a fort much like the one on Dragonstone, but they never managed to stay more than a year at a time. No one had, not even the Old Empire of Ghis before them, or expeditions from Volantis after the Doom.”
“How? Are the people here great warriors?” the young girl asked.
Only for Lord Harry to snicker in amusement, “Quite the opposite, truly. The Naathi never fight, so much so that they are called the Peaceful People. Some think that they take vows of pacifism, pledging never to hurt another being. They don’t even eat flesh, only fruit from this island.”
That didn’t make any sense. If they did not fight, then how did the people of Naath stop the Dragonlords or the Ghiscari Empire?
When she voiced her confusion, the sorcerer’s grin widened, “They call it the butterfly fever, a disease transmitted by the local butterflies. Anyone who stays here for too long would die a very slow and painful death, and yet the locals are completely immune to the disease. Quite a shield, huh? Every single occupying force just eventually died from the disease. Even Old Valyria, which had conquered most of Essos, wasn’t about to do the same to a small island so close to their home. Still, don’t worry about falling ill, as long as I’m here, you’ll be safe. And even if I wasn’t, staying on the island for a few hours wouldn’t cause you any harm.”
“That’s very strange,” she replied without meaning to, only to blush at her misstep.
“It is. That was very insightful of you, Baela. After all, a disease shouldn’t have some kind of timer to catch it. Not unless it was some kind of environmental factor, like radiation. The disease seems almost designed to stop invaders. Very curious, don’t you think?”
Baela nodded, despite only just thinking that it was odd that people would use a disease as a shield. She turned towards the sorcerer and asked, “Why did you bring me here?”
“Why? To teach you a lesson, of course,” Lord Harry answered without missing a beat, “I told you that I have been where you are, felt what you do feel.”
Baela grimaced, and she could feel her anger rise within her, “And you thought that going to a pretty beach would somehow stop the nightmares, as if by some magic, that it would somehow make up for the fact that I almost burned you and your wife, alongside your home.”
“My dear, I have seen war on a scale you can’t believe and done things that you wouldn’t even grasp their consequences. But this is not about me, but about you, and we both know that the issue was never the nightmares, Baela. And it is not the beach or the view that made me bring you to this place. It’s the people.”
Before Baela could voice her confusion or even ask one of the many questions on her mind, she noticed that she had been walking alongside the sorcerer, and he had led her to what seemed to be a settlement of people.
They looked quite pretty, with dusky skin and hazel eyes, and wore some beautiful silk garments. She noticed that a few of the children also had colourful flower necklaces around their necks. The adults saw them and quickly moved the children away, wary of the strangers in their home.
Lord Harry walked forward and spoke to one of them, a thin but healthy man around her father’s age, obviously some kind of leader, in a strange language, which the Naathi man replied in, his eyes widening for a few seconds.
They spoke to one another for a few minutes before the man grinned widely and yelled something to the crowd around them. They cheered back immediately and smiled at them invitingly.
Feelingly slightly intimidated by the strange people, Baela walked towards Lord Harry’s back. She noticed that the man was speaking to a young girl her age, and he put his hand near her ear, revealing a breathtakingly beautiful butterfly, seemingly entirely made by some kind of pink gem that Baela had never seen before.
The girl gasped in shock as she palmed her gift, before hugging the sorcerer, while yelling something, and running back to the rest of the camp, palming it as if it was worth more than everything she ever owned, which it likely was.
Baela turned towards the sorcerer accusingly, “You never gave us gifts like that!”
Lord Harry snorted and looked at her hand, only for the girl to follow his gaze and freeze in shock. On her hand was a beautiful bracelet seemingly made from the same gemstone, glistening in the setting sun.
She turned to say something, but her voice failed her. Instead, the man’s smile turned smug at her reaction, and he spoke up, “That should help you deal with the language barrier. Now, why don’t you speak with them?”
He pushed her forward, despite her protest, and she noticed it was towards the same girl who had the butterfly on her hand. The girl had a bright smile on her face and seemed to babble away, “It’s so beautiful, isn’t it? I’ve never seen a pink gem before. Do you know where he found them? Oh, I’ve never met Outsiders before. Mother and Father make me hide in the cave whenever an Outsider ship gets close. They said that they take us far away and put us in chains. Have you come to do that too?”
Baela froze, not because of the girl’s words, but the fact that she could understand them. Was that what the sorcerer had meant when he said that he would deal with the language barrier? Of course, that was when she registered the girl’s last words and felt outraged at the fact that the girl thought that she was a slaver of all things, “What? Of course not!” Then a thought came to her, “Wait! I thought that the butterflies stopped people from coming here.”
“Oh, the Lord’s butterflies protect us, but the other Outsiders learned that they could not fall ill if they left quickly. It’s how they got my cousin Nahala. It’s good that you’re not taking us away, but why are you here?”
Baela didn’t know how to answer this question. Why were they in Naath? The island was beautiful, and the people looked very kind. This strange girl, whose name she still didn’t know, was very friendly and nice.
But she had asked a question that Baela had been trying to answer since she was taken to Naath. Given the way that she was staring expectantly at Baela, she had to respond somehow, “I don’t know. He said that he wanted to show me something. I think it was because I was sad, and he thought that this would cheer me up.”
The girl nodded imperiously, “I get sad sometimes, too. Playing helps. And our meal songs are the best. As an expert, I will do my best to cheer you up. My name is Elyra. What’s your name?”
Baela stood there, frozen at the girl’s seriousness, “Baela. You don’t have to…”
The girl didn’t seem to care about her response, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards a group of girls, who eyed her with interest. Baela turned helplessly towards Lord Harry, who looked amused and continued his conversation with a few of the adults.
Baela would not forget this betrayal.
After some time, she would admit that she had enjoyed herself. Lord Harry’s description of these people was accurate. They truly were kind and peaceful. The other girls accepted her presence immediately, as if she had always been there. They ran around camp, played a game where they had to find a blue butterfly, which was harder than she thought, despite the seemingly unlimited number of the creatures.
They played with throwing some odd, hairy, brown ball at a tree, and ate the white stuff inside when it broke, which tasted quite refreshing. They sang songs about nature and the sea around them, playing with a wooden flute that released soft hoots with every blow.
By the time she had finished eating the nuts and fruits they gave her, she had almost forgotten about what she had felt before, with her guilt being replaced by the wonder that such a place existed in the first place.
Alas, all good things came to an end eventually, as Lord Harry gently grabbed her and slowly led her back to the beach they came from. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, he spoke up, “So, what did you think of Naath?”
“It’s nice. The island is beautiful. The people are kind. It’s almost like a paradise.”
“Is it?” he asked with a glint in his eyes.
Baela thought back, and a small detail came back to her, “Elyra mentioned in passing that there were slaver ships that attacked here sometimes.”
“That’s true. They’ve cleverly learned that if they don’t stay too long on the island, they won’t suffer from the Butterfly Fever. A big risk, of course, but a Naathi slave is worth much more than a regular one.”
“Why is that?”
Lord Harry hummed, “They’re clever and have a gift with languages, one might even call them blessed. There’s also the fact that even when they’re enslaved, they still follow their vows of pacifism, so the chance of a violent rebellion is far less than that of ordinary slaves, especially the intelligent ones.”
“That’s horrible,” Baela exclaimed.
“It is. Slavery is a horrible practice, one that, unfortunately, has many ties to much of Essos’s economy. Thankfully, the Naathi have adapted well to these attacks, moving back into the caves, forcing any slaver to spend more time looking for them. Very few of them are ever caught, usually children who do not know any better.”
The thought of her new friends being taken by some greedy slavers from Essos made her blood boil, “It’s not right! They’re not hurting anyone!”
“It isn’t. Slavery, in general, isn’t right. But how would you stop it, if you could?”
Baela froze at that, trying to think of an answer, only to come up with nothing.
Lord Harry took her silence as not being able to give him a proper answer and said with a gentle voice, “The only time that slavery could have realistically been abolished was after the Doom of Old Valyria. Valyrian society leaned very heavily on the practice, and any rebellion would have ended with dragon fire. After Valyria fell, there might have been a chance that a slave rebellion could succeed in the chaos that followed. It certainly wouldn’t have been bloodier than the wars that followed during the Century of Blood. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen, and now too much depends on the slave trade. I think one would need to conquer most of Essos to stop the practica permanently, shedding enough blood to fill an ocean to wipe out the likely resistance that would follow.”
“Really? Wouldn’t there be any other way?”
“Kid, if one day, some Dragonrider flew up to Slaver’s Bay, conquered it, and announced that slavery was illegal, it still wouldn’t work. Aside from the economic concerns, you would ask them to change a central part of their society, and in all my years, I have found that one of the hardest things to change is human nature. One day, I hoped that people would grow and understand that slavery is horrific, that they’d slowly veer away from it, but I can’t foresee it happening without it being a very bloody affair indeed.”
Baela deflated slightly at his answer. She hadn’t truly thought of it when she lived in Pentos. Her father had told her that there were no official slaves in Pentos, but that most servants were slaves in everything but name. She didn’t know the specifics, only that it had to do with owing gold that they would never repay in their lifetime.
She hadn’t thought much of it, but the idea of people trying to enslave her new friends did not sit well with her. She hadn’t spent much time with them, but she knew that these kind people, who did not even have weapons, did not deserve to be taken from their home, put in chains, and sold to serve some Essosi Magister.
Just as the fire in her gut, her rage, started to appear, Baela immediately stiffened and put it away, refusing to lose control once more.
Lord Harry gave her an understanding look and changed the subject completely, “But we’re not here to talk about such a gloomy topic, are we? I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you finally understand why I have brought you here, to Naath?”
Baela grimaced before replying, “The Naathi showed me kindness. Despite my being of Valyrian descent and my ancestors trying to invade their island, they opened their home to me. They live simple lives, without worries, without war. It’s beautiful.”
She looked at the sorcerer and noticed that he hadn’t given her his usual approving look. Instead, he shook his head, “That’s not quite it, I’m afraid.”
Baela grimaced, “Then what is it?”
“Tell me, kiddo, did the locals tell you about their religion?”
The young Targaryen suppressed her irritation at the man refusing to answer her question, and given the amused glint in his eyes, he knew that. Instead of showing her anger, Baela decided to answer the question, her fists clenched, “They mentioned some Lord, or something. I didn’t really ask.”
“They have a single one true god, the Lord of Harmony, a god whose divine butterflies protect this island from all those who mean it and its people harm.”
“What does that have to do with why you brought me here?”
The sorcerer’s mile widened, “Quite a lot.”
“Or you could just tell me directly,” Baela practically growled.
“Perhaps,” he simply replied, refusing to elaborate further.
“Why won’t you just tell me?” She asked in an intimidating tone, which she tried to mirror from her father, only for the man to find it more amusing. She had even stomped her foot to show how serious she was.
“I think it’s funnier that way,” Lord Harry replied, and Baela gaped at him, feeling utterly speechless.
Before she could make her rage known, he raised his hands, “I think that this way is better for you. Tell you what, let’s go on a small walk a bit deeper in the island, and I’ll tell you about my reasons when we get back. What do you think?”
The young girl huffed, but then nodded in agreement, “Where are we going?”
“We’ve been on this island for some time. It’s only right that we greet its Lord and protector, don’t you think?”
Wait, what? Did she misunderstand things, or did the man seriously say that they were going to meet a god?
AN: It’s always fun to write about a new place. I’m pretty excited about the next chapter. I know I took some creative liberties about Naath, but I tried to stick with the wiki when I could. There weren’t exactly a lot of details about the island in the books, at least as far as I could find. As usual, I don’t mind rewriting this depending on your feedback, so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
Marius Petrauskas
nice
TypistTyphon
Good chapter!
