Butterfly Dreams

“Once upon a time, I, Chuang Chou, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chou. Soon I awakened, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man. Between a man and a butterfly there is necessarily a distinction.” - Master Zhuang, Chinese philosopher, one translation

**********

Baron von Aquamarin woke up slowly, happily. It was a lovely dream, filled with colors and adventures and tantalizing scents. Almost as if he'd been pulled into a paradise for a little while before being released to inhabit his body again.

He wanted to stretch, but he knew he'd have to wake up a little more first. He sighed, cracked one eye open.

His quilt was covered with butterflies. As were the bed curtains.

He sighed and gently eased one arm free from the covers, yanked on the bell pull which also had its share of the fragile-winged creatures. They flapped for a few moments but didn't move. And soon servants appeared, to open the window and open the curtains and carefully shoo them out to the flower-covered pocket garden below in the cool air, or catch them on silk handkerchiefs and release them outside on a balcony covered in pots of flowers.

His head manservant was also his cousin and a fellow head miner, and they were very close. “Looks like you should have had my shift last night instead, Aleru. I didn't sleep well at all, and so no new crystals for the morning shift to discover.”

“Well, let's see if I can earn my title today. Eric, may I have an extra handkerchief?” And off the Baron went, collecting double handfuls while the servants were still struggling with just a few. His cousin held out the cleaned but well-used mine clothes, and Aleru slipped into them with years of practice under his belt. He didn't jostle the handkerchief or its fragile cargo, though he could hear tiny susurrations of movement from within. Eric was only a few steps behind him with a breakfast roll in each hand.

When they reached the plaza where the miners gathered for breaks, the atmosphere was glum. They were eating breakfast, but didn't look happy about it. That changed when Aleru and Eric strode in, with Aleru holding his precious cargo. They all quickly finished their food, neatly stacked the dirty dishes, and eagerly picked up their pickaxes.

The entrance didn't lead down a tunnel, or into a hole in the ground. Instead, there were pack mules, and the entrance led to – a mountain range.

The “summer palace” was carved into the side of the mountain.

It was exactly where the original self-titled Aquamarin found the first crystals. With such a convenient man-made cave, why not turn it into something more comfortable while finding more gems behind flakes of the mother mountain from which it was born?

But while it was easy for a while to tap till one finds a hollow, and chisel away to expose the crystals lining the cavity, the quick finds seemed to have played out on this trail. It was time to search for a new location. These were vast, open areas, sparse in growth and landmarks. The Baron was the best “finder,” and the miners who joined him had various levels of the ability as well.

Gates and locks? In these mountains? Where they would find the bones of unlucky prospectors all the time? The blinding white of the shale-like shearing slabs would easily pulp the unwary. Or at the very least, give them disorienting blinding headaches.

Any who thought they could steal from the “mines” just made things easier – the Baron didn't have to pay for funerals. They would take any bones they could easily access to a common pit at the town at the beginning of the flatlands, but he would not waste time or manpower for the ones they could see (or assume were) at the bottom of fresh scree falls.

These men were more than just miners, they were his family. Men, women – all cousins or uncles or somehow related. Even if they weren't, they quickly married in. If you had even a touch of Aquamarin's House gift, you were welcome to try your hand in mining, even possibly become the next Baron. But recently the gift seemed to settle on the workers back in town or city, those with more than a knack of polishing, slabbing, cutting, setting.

The expedition slowed, stopped at the last “platform” carved into this mountainside. This pocket had been just light blues and clears, not the deep more-than-sky-at-midday blue the oceans displayed, now just a smudge of color on the horizon.

He really thought his cousin-servant had more of the gift, and would have shown his mettle last night. He thought Eric would become the next Baron. Now what?

With these thoughts, he stood at the edge of the platform, and opened the handkerchief.

The butterflies flapped a few times in the sun, and immediately took off...

For the other side of the valley.

Everyone sighed, and turned the mules around for the long trek down. Eric snorted while Aleru shook his head. “At least it looks easy to get to when we get down there. I'll stop at the palace and collect everyone. We can set up in town instead.”

“Sounds good.” Aleru squatted, waiting for the rest to wind down the narrow trail. He'd be the last one out, as was fitting as the Baron.

*********

The butterflies were still sitting on a specific section of rock that looked like all the others. Even tapping it didn't produce any hollow tones, but the movement made Aleru more than a little sick.

Eric caught him when he staggered. “What's wrong, cousin?”

“I.. I don't know. It feels wrong, somehow.”

“Hmm.” Eric firmly tugged him away from the wall, placed his own hand on it. The butterflies took off for the town. “Oh, wow, this feels... warm, inviting. Beckoning. Right here. Maks, can I borrow your pick? Thanks, coz.” Tap tap tap, tap tap thunk clink. He pulled at a flake, and when he showed it to the others, it was a perfect gemmy blue aquamarine sitting in a raft of shiny scalloped muscovite.

The only difference was this crystal had a large black crystal stabbed through it like a dagger.

Half the miners recoiled, but the other half moved forward, murmuring in pleasure. Aleru watched in jealousy and horror as some retreated with him, but others pushed forward to touch both crystals and their balanced symmetry. Eric smiled proudly – till he caught Aleru's face, and his smile vanished. “Cousin, are you all right?”

Aleru blacked out.

***********

He woke to a divided household.

He had a raging headache, his poor very-pregnant wife was trying to keep people out of his bedroom, he could hear the arguments in the hall as it seemed everyone was trying to get in – to check on him, to scream at him, to attack him. It was insanity.

Luckily, there was always a secret way out. He and his lady, Bianca, took the staircase behind the secret door, leading to the garden. He didn't see all the butterflies that arrowed out of the room into the fresh clear air.

He sat on a bench in an alcove to collect his scattered thoughts. Bianca filled him in as much as she could: he was brought back to the city unconscious, Eric brought back his amazing treasure, and the rumors started flying. Sides were taken, accusations made. Eric was trying to take over, Aleru was poisoned, no stabbed, Aleru was too sick to maintain the Barony. Even the servants were divided, and most of it started when Eric put that dratted evil thing on display-

A gentle chuckling invaded her panicked babblings. Aleru reached for a knife he wasn't wearing, but relaxed when the gardener appeared. Even Bianca couldn't stay upset for long.

The gardener was old. His eyes were hidden behind wrinkles and smile lines. He took care of the garden here at the palace, and his apprentices tended the gardens in towns and palaces throughout their barony. They turned parks and walkways and plazas into flower paradises, dripping and cascading and foaming over every surface.

The butterflies that came with the dawn loved them.

He sat on the pacing stones in front of the bench, and butterflies flitted over and landed on him. He didn't even flinch. “So much agitation is not good for digestion, my lord. Especially for one who has awaked from disturbing dreams to waking disturbance. And no food for days.” He handed over a small sack attached to his belt, with cold meat pasties.

Aleru devoured the food, much to Bianca's chagrin. “Ai, I should have thought to do that,” she lamented.

The gardener shrugged. “You had many things to think about, with the turmoil in the building. And you are pregnant, balance is always a touch imbalanced when you are thinking and living for two persons, not just one.”

Again, Aleru was intrigued by the gardener. He always used large words, as if he devoured a library in his youth. “I don't understand. The aqua vein ran out on one mountain, the butterflies led us to another mountain, just like you suggested to me all those years ago. They went straight to a spot, we got there, I hated the feel, Eric loved it! And then he pulled out, that... that...”

“A twinned crystal? But different, so different, that you felt imbalanced?”

Aleru was stunned. “How did you know?”

“You know, youngling, you were taught ages ago that your affinity to aquamarine rules your heart and mind. You were also taught that other minerals and gems can be found with your preferred rapport. Muscovite crystals, topazes, even clear albaite, all in the feldspar mother rock. So there's another – and those whose attraction has been close, but not quite, has been cleaved. But the minerals grow together, love each other, even as they take different paths. The divergence has just begun. But the paths do not have to war with each other.”

Bianca caught on. Her eyes were huge with wonder and a hearty dose of fear. “Are you saying there's a new House, forming right here?”

“The black gem is new. What is it? What can it do? What will you allow to happen?”

“Poor Eric.” Aleru stood, though a bit wobbly. Adrenaline can only do so much. “He must be so torn. Where is he?”

The gardener spoke first. “In the room with his treasure, guarding it from those who would like to destroy it.”

Aleru extended his other senses, feeling the sense of very right and very wrong. “In the assembly hall.” he looked down at himself. “Well, this will be interesting, since I'm only wearing a sleeping tunic that's barely long enough. Bianca, love, stay here. This should not turn ugly, but I don't want to take the chance. Tempers will be running high.”

Bianca gave the gardener a strange look, but he just smiled in return as she nodded. Aleru patted her shoulder, and left to do his job.

From the garden, there were many ways to approach the assembly hall, but Aleru was the Baron von Aquamarin. What were the crystal properties? Calming, soothing, designed to inspire truth and trust. He breathed a small prayer, and strode right for the main doors. He didn't see the butterfly pop into existence above him, and waft about in a ray of sunlight.

The mob of palace inhabitants was large, argumentative, and scared. He could smell the waves of uncertainty rippling off people, dividing their loyalties. He invoked his inner talents, drawing on the power of the gems in the treasury. They responded, humming in a harmonic far above human hearing. He sent out power in a wave of intent, flowing in all directions.

People stopped mid-syllable. Shaking fists stopped, dropped. And they all turned to him.

He strode forward through the anteroom, and they parted. Aleru reached the locked doors of the assembly hall, placed his palm on the handle. He could feel the possessive fear oozing through the keyhole. “Eric, cousin, it's me. Please open up.”

“I won't let you destroy it.” The words were muffled but defiant.

“I don't want to, cousin. I want to congratulate the new Baron of whatever-it-is, twin to my own House.”

Everyone gasped. Realization began to dawn on faces, followed by chagrin.

The click was loud in the near-silence. One door opened, and Eric appeared, white and trembling. He was only wearing a pair of old trews.

What a pair we must look, Aleru thought, and reached out to gently take him in a much-needed hug. Eric sobbed and clung as tight as any lover. The crowd rustled in their embarrassment.

“Come, everyone.” Aleru beckoned the crown inside with one hand while wrapping Eric's shoulders with the other. They walked down the aisle, leaning on each other, while the crows sheepishly followed them.

Word had spread. By the time they reached the chairs at the other end, everyone in the palace had come, including Bianca and the gardener. Many brought food, and a communal meal sprang up, with servants running for more till all had eaten. And even in town the call had been felt, and most of the townspeople appeared. The hall held them all.

Servants offered Eric and Aleru clothing but they only chose plain tunics and trews, wrapped with battered leather belts and turbans – the uniform of the miners. When they ascended the steps of the platform together, all eyes were on them.

The beautiful mineral specimen sat on a little table in front of the chairs, lit by a bright sunbeam. Butterflies landed on it, gently waving their wings in the light.

Aleru moved to stand on the side where his crystal rose, while Eric stopped on the side where the black crystal lifted itself like a striated column. Each reached out to touch the top of their own. From here, staring through the aquamarine towards his black, it seemed like it was drinking in the light, but it didn't make him sick to look at anymore. Uneasy, yes, but not debilitating. “Eric von Aquamarin, as much as it pains me to say this, it seems that you are no longer of my House, and no longer subject to my rule.”

Eric flinched, just a little.

“But, in the same breath, I salute you as the primogenitur of a new House, born from our blood, and living with us. As this crystal lives in harmony and balance, so we must as well. Our people have chosen, where their affinities and loyalties lie, and no one can say that this is treasonous. It is where our hearts lie, and we follow. Do you know what this new gem is called?”

The crystals chimed, and everyone could hear them. Eric swallowed. “It is a tourmaline, the black variety. Overseas it is called 'schorl.' It is good for protection, and grounding excess energy.”

Well, that explains why I passed out. “And by what name shall this new House be called?”

They could hear it, resonating from somewhere within. “House Taurmalin-Aswad.”

“Then Eric, you are my peer. I salute you, Eric Taurmalin-Aswad.” Aleru bowed, and everyone of both Houses bowed with him.

There was chiming, coming from seemingly nowhere. Moths appeared, circling in the light above the crystals. The butterflies joined them, dancing, till they settled – the moths on Eric, the butterflies on Aleru.

Dark to light. Not opposites, but two sides of the same object.

Aleru reached for his cousin with his free hand, and clasped his cousin's hand. Eric's face reflected his relief, his joy, and his wonder. “I thought I lost everything,” he muttered, but with all the cheering, only Aleru heard it.

“No, cousin. I just needed to recover from the shock, I think. It felt like betrayal at first, but once the gardener showed me that it was the formation of a new House out of mine, it made everything clear.” He glanced at the opaque schorl. “Uh, no offence.”

“The gardener?”

***********

Aleru sat in the garden, relaxing, watching the butterflies flutter about. The riot of colors stood out amidst the shiny white walls of feldspar, the matrix of the mother mountains.

A few moths still clung to Eric's hair, but they left and joined the butterflies when Eric sat down.

“Ah, finding restoration of spirit, with a restoration of the balance?”

Eric jumped a little, but Aleru nodded and smiled. “Eric, meet the gardener. No, I do not know his name, for all I know he is immortal and has always been here. He takes care of the gardens here, as his acolytes tend the gardens throughout omy - er, our - lands. He is my confidante, my guide, and my sanity. And I'm pretty sure my confessional priest, though he'd never say that out loud.”

“Other places and times name my role as shaman to my tribe. And perhaps I was, in the long ago, when these lands were smaller and we did not know of the treasures beneath our feet. I have been born, live, die, and am born anew, and I tend the garden and all its denizens, including the humans that visit their ancestors and dreams. The butterflies help me remember.”

That got Eric's interest. “The... butterflies?”

The gardener lifted his hand, and butterflies swirled from the flowers to land all over his arm. “These are your dreams made manifest in this world. Not just of the head of House, but he produces the most. It is tied into the gifts of the House, and as you've observed, can be used to locate new gems. But it does not work for you, and it has made you sad and anxious.”

Aleru reached out to touch Eric's shoulder when he slumped. “I tried, but nothing, no matter how many wonderful dreams I had,” he whispered.

“Ah. Because, balance.” The gardener lifted his other hand, and moths swirled out of nowhere to land on it, his arm, his chest. “Look for the moths, young baron. In many ways you are the opposite of young Aleru here. Not in opposition, but in partnership. One a creature of the night, one of the daylight. Moths are the manifestation of your dreams, as the butterflies are the souls of those who have gone. It is reversed for Aleru. You will find the best gems by working together, encouraging each other, fostering cooperation with each other's households. Teaming with each other's miners. Living in combined spaces. Sharing.”

Aleru's lips twitched at that. “I'm not sharing my wife, gardener,” he said, but with amusement to take the sting out of it.

The gardener chuckled. “Ah, but when Bianca delivers that healthy child she is now birthing, perhaps you should ask her about her childhood friend?” He pointed to one moth flapping, with vivid colors on the underwings. “I believe she would like living here, perhaps become very good friends with a certain young, newly minted baron.”

As they both gaped at his words, the butterflies and moths fluttered away, swirling back to the flowers. One very large moth came over, landed on the gardener's hand. “Ah, it is time. Watch, Aleru, and learn.”

It was a beautiful specimen, cream and reddish-brown and black and fawn, swirls and spots and speckles. For a few minutes, the moth quivered, occasionally shivering violently. Suddenly, it jumped into the air and – POP – it vanished.

Both barons startled, and the gardener smiled. “Congratulations, Aleru, you are a father. Go, both of you, greet your newest youngling with much joy and happiness. Your future awaits.”

The men scrambled off, and the gardener chuckled to himself. He knew they caught only portions of what he said, what he implied. But they were young, and new to their lives and duties. They were listening, at least. They would come to the garden often, to watch the flutters. And learn.

As you say, they are young. But they are growing well, tended by our gardener. We are pleased with our tribe, grown strong and healthy.

Only the gardener could hear them, as his apprentices in towns and villages heard their own. As the barons and the others with the ability could hear their respective gems. Souls, dreams, and daydreams whirled around him, reacting to the celebrations spreading from the palace to the city.

A new Baron, and a new baby. A division that does not divide, but heals the hurts simmering under the surface.

It was a good day.