The Evening Tide

by Jeremy Forsyth

  As for me, my boredom had begun to work me up into an explosion of frustration and it was all I could do not to scream and raise my fists up in the air.

  “Mother, I ---

  “Where would Asharal be, now that he has returned to Wind Glade?” she had asked me, turning on me an enquiring gaze, a slight touch of scrutiny and accusation in her eyes.

  “How am I supposed to know?” I demanded.

  “Do you know if he has anything to do with these Wind rumours?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly, though deep down, like Papa, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was. He was the only one on the island who would oppose the Winds. He was the only one on the island who wasn’t a coward.

  The more I thought about it, the more probable it seemed that Asharal was involved. What else could explain Asharal’s absence and how adamant he remained about only visiting me during the evening? What else could explain his desire not to have our growing affection for each other become public knowledge?

  At first I had thought it was simply because he was a private elf. But then later I had begun to wonder if his reticence was because he wasn’t entirely sure about me, that perhaps he was ashamed of me. But then, in light of the other night upon the road and how reassuring he had been on the way home, I had begun to consider that if indeed Asharal was involved with whatever it was going on at Wind Tower, perhaps his resolve to keep our relationship a secret was to protect me? Perhaps in case his efforts against the ruling family of our island failed, he thought I would be in danger?

  “Please can I go and visit Papa, Mother?” I had asked her whilst she paced the length of our hut.

  “No,” she said promptly, still caught up in her own intense contemplations.

  “I will not put myself at risk again, I promise.”

  “No,” was her reply.

  Hopeless, I stormed out of the hut. Standing under the consistently dainty rain, a recurring trait of our current season, I looked for something to do that would prevent me from going completely mad. I remained out there brooding at the trees before me but eventually I returned inside when the cold became too much. My mother wasn’t pleased at my sodden state. She approached me and used her apron to dry my wet head.

  “What if Asharal had to come by, and see you like this?” she said.

  Her voice made it clear she was trying to apologies for her curtness towards me earlier, before I fled her presence.

  “I thought you believed that inner beauty was better than outer beauty?”

  “But you have both,” she replied, still fussing over getting my hair dry. “Regardless, a lady must always strive to look her best for the one she loves.”

  I cast my head down at that piece of truth. “I do love him.”

  “After being saved by him, I could hardly blame you for that.” She stopped at last and held me at arm’s length. “But, my sweet Rose, to run out like you did. To put yourself at risk like that…” She shook her head in a firm, decisive manner, a frown now underwriting her expression. “I do not care how beautiful the elf is, nor how impressive and enchanting.” Mother was listing the words I frequently used to describe Asharal. “One cannot lose one’s common sense. One cannot forsake wisdom and prudence. In love or not, it is just not acceptable.” I saw tears appear in her eyes again. “Think what might have become of you if Asharal had arrived but a moment too late. Think what damage would have been inflicted upon your body and your soul.” She covered her mouth with her hand at the unimaginable, and I took a step forward to embrace her.

  “I know you do not approve of Asharal, Mother. But if you could only see how all he wants is to see the Sun rise.”

  “Don’t we all,” Mother sighed.

  I released her and for a moment the two of us stared into each other’s eyes. Her eyes were glassy and red from tears, mine were glimmering in hope for what the future now held whilst Asharal remained the orchestrator of it.

  “But I fear, sweet Rose, that while Asharal desires the Sun to rise, he has set himself to rise above the Sun in the meantime. He places himself above us all. Can’t you see? Have you not yet asked him why he will not enter our home?”

  “He entered it when he brought me back,” I reminded her.

  “Under the circumstances, anyone would have. Can you recall how quickly he left?”

  Of course I could. I had felt hollow when he had. Afterwards, I had also been slightly bitter and resentful, for I had seen how unsettled Asharal had been to remain under our roof for the short time that he had. He had become quiet and reserved, stiff and uncomfortable, and under the circumstances, as Mother put it, Papa was too concerned with having me back to react to Asharal’s demeanour. But I doubted Papa would have reacted at all, even if I hadn’t snuck out. Instead, Papa would have kept quiet and harboured additional disdain for Asharal. Unless one was part of the Wind family, one didn’t just simply offer Asharal a reproach. Not because he was well-respected on the island, or because he was a skilful warrior, but rather it was something to do with the way he carried himself. It was also his eyes – those piercingly pale eyes.

  When one was around him, Asharal both inspired and discouraged. He made you want to be better than you were. He also made you realise your own inferiority to him. Most resented him, though they still feared and respected him. The rest aspired to win his favour. They followed him and praised him.

  Papa was not part of the latter. He didn’t like feeling as if he was not in charge under his own roof or over his own family. When Asharal arrived even Mother began to change, and I suspected that was what irritated Papa the most. Though Mother would take her stance alongside Papa, like me, she couldn’t keep her eyes off Asharal. She couldn’t help but feel the pull of his allure. But whilst I embraced it, Mother was wary of it.

  Mother and I sat by the window, the patters of rainfall a soothing sound, calming us.

  “I do not want to discourage you, sweet Rose,” she said, adding, “I just want to protect you. I want you to be happy. I want you to fall in love with someone who doesn’t make you feel ashamed of where you come from or who your parents are.”

  I frowned. “I am not ashamed of you!”

  My mother laid a tender hand upon my knee. “When you’re around him, I see how desperate you are to please him, to keep him. But my dear, it should be him seeking your favour. Until he does, you will spend your entire life wearing yourself out, trying to live up to his standards, trying to be worthy. And yet, you fail to realise that you are worthy. You are good enough.”

  I cast my head down, not knowing how to respond. It was hard to formulate a reply because Mother was right. I just couldn’t help myself. I wanted Asharal with all my being. I never wanted to lose him. I wanted to be the one he picked. I loved being the dawn in his eyes. I wanted him to feel the sun rise whenever he looked at me. The fear that came when I considered that one day he wouldn’t, shook me.

  “There is no one like him on the island, Mother.”

  “You are right. Asharal is one of a kind. But that doesn’t mean he is the only one of a kind. Does he let you in?”

  I looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Does he share his dreams with you, his desires and thoughts? Does he allow himself to be vulnerable?”

  I cast my head down again. “He has had to harden himself, Mother. He has had to work hard to get to where he is. When Hurricane Terror took his parents, it was up to him to look after his brother and sister.”

  “Do you know this because he told you, or because of what the people say at the market?”

  I thought of a way to defend him, to justify his stern and implacable exterior. “He told me that my face to him was like the dawn and that by it, he was awakened from the darkness of this world.”

  Mother was clearly surprised by that. Her expression softened and she smiled. “That is sweet.”

  “You don’t know him like I do, Mother,” I told her, feeling like I had found my feet on the topic. “He isn’t l
ike Papa for sure. He isn’t as open, nor does he find it as easy to be so tender, yet tender he remains. Time will reveal that. And both you and Papa will see.”

  She gave me a sad smile, and I saw in her eyes that she had decided to trust me, to trust my words.

  “Very well, beloved.”

  That night we sat around our small table, eating some of Papa’s catch for the day, when there came a knock. Instinctively, I knew who it was, and I jumped up from my seat before anyone could tell me otherwise. Though Papa protested, I ran quickly to the door and when I opened it, Asharal was standing there bathed in moonlight. He stood erect, all dignity and pride.

  My erratic excitement was immediately reined in when our eyes locked. “Hello,” I said, eyes never leaving his, my voice soft and guilty for allowing a sliver of exhilaration to seep out slightly. When I saw the slight curve form at his mouth I abandoned all restraint. I leaped forward and jumped into his arms, and was received stiffly – as by one who hadn’t expected such informality.

  “Sweet Dawn,” Asharal whispered. His voice was soft, but he sounded glad about my lack of protocol.

  Asharal didn’t need to let go for me to know that the time to exercise restraint had returned, for I could feel it exude from him.

  I took a step back. “Would you like to come inside?” I asked. I saw his hesitation but I did well not to show how it annoyed me.

  He cleared his throat and took a step inside. He had to duck beneath the small frame of our only door and when he was inside he straightened again, filling our small hut with his arresting presence. He was a beautiful sculpture of incredible authority.

  “Good evening,” he greeted my parents, solemnly.

  “Evening,” replied Papa, who had turned in his seat to look upon his new guest.

  “Evening, Asharal,” said my mother, more sweetly.

  Asharal took a step closer. I watched from behind him as he faced my parents. Both hands were now behind his back. “Might your daughter walk with me outside amidst the trees?” he requested formally.

  Papa hesitated, but before he could offer his reply, my mother gave us her permission. “Of course, Asharal.” She smiled at him.

  Immediately, Asharal bowed his head and swirled. He strode right past me and once more, ducked beneath our doorframes. I followed him hurriedly and when the two of us were outside, the closeness of the hut was left behind. I felt a sense of freedom, and realised that only out in the world could Asharal’s intense presence be endured. Inside, one could barely breathe amidst his intensity and grandeur.

  Coming to the stones that Papa had laid out, Asharal turned his head to me and did something he had not done before. He raised his elbow slightly, his hands remaining at his side; a gesture I pounced on. I slid my arm through his, smiling like a fool, and together we made for the dark woods.

  “I am leaving, again,” he said when we were beneath the covering of the trees.

  I stopped immediately. “Why? Where are you going?”

  “Back home,” he said, without looking at me. When eventually he did, my throat went dry and my heart filled with grief. “My sister awaits and I need to remove her.”

  “Remove her?”

  “Yes. She is not safe.” He straightened. “You are the only elvess in my life who is safe.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “How am I safe? Of whom do I need to be wary?” As if I needed to ask.

  “None knows of my visits here, besides your parents, who I trust have held their tongues?”

  “They have.” Papa especially. He didn’t want the Winds knowing how close his only child was to the great family’s notorious rival.

  I took a step closer so that I was just an inch away from his chest. I looked up at him and quivered. “What is going on? Why do you have to leave?”

  “I will return,” he assured me. “But before I do, my sister needs to be taken somewhere else.”

  “And your brother?”

  “He stays with me. He and I have tasks to complete.”

  It was unlike him to indulge me in such a fashion. Something was going on. It was almost as if he was nervous.

  “What is happening?” I asked, my voice a tremor. I was suddenly afraid.

  “Nothing that won’t be explained in the coming days.”

  Asharal took my hand and guided it back through the loop of his arm, then quietly led the way deeper into the woods, beneath the dark trees. When we came to a stop, the woods echoed the sounds of croaking frogs and the calmness of the tiny brooks that flowed below our position. It was so peaceful and quiet, but Asharal’s words were still resonating with me. I wanted to know if he had anything to do with the rumours circulating in Wind Glade, regarding the trouble at Wind Tower, but one look at him warned me to hold my tongue. For once I listened. He was leaving again and I didn’t want to ruin this evening. I wanted this evening to be perfect.

  “Mother was happy to see you,” I said, recalling the change in her when Asharal had entered our home.

  “I saw that,” he said, in a voice that made me think he wasn’t fussed about it. “What are your dreams, Dawn?” he asked suddenly, his gaze stretching out down the length of the forest. When I didn’t respond, slightly dazed by how perfectly refined his face was against the moonlight, he turned and looked at me, and again I was caught off guard by his stare.

  “I --- I ----

  He looked away from me. “The Sun will rise soon. Would you like to be there with me when it does?”

  I didn’t understand his meaning. All I really took in was him asking me if I wanted to be with him.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I never want to leave your side.”

  He considered me solemnly. When he turned to gaze out into the world again, I saw him loose a conclusive breath. “Then I would expect you to exercise more patience in waiting for me. I expect you to conduct yourself formally in the coming days.” He looked at me sternly. “I expect you to keep yourself away from harm.”

  “I will,” I said. I will. I will. I will.

  Chapter 6

  I could sense my lady’s exhaustion. I had her firm in my grasp, not wanting to part from her. Since discovering my brother further back, we had not stopped running in all haste and urgency, for I needed to come to the Father of the Sun’s aid. I needed to stand with him.

  “I do look forward to seeing you fight side-by-side with the Father of the Sun,” said Verid.

  The tremor in his voice was unmistakable, his attempt to mask how desperately afraid he had become, was futile and pathetic. “The Son of the Father would have been better off if both you and he had stood together,” Verid rambled on.

  Verid was the Father of the Sun’s seer. His was a highly favoured position here at Wind Tower, and he was the favourite of the Father himself, who believed Verid’s prophecies were valuable beyond measure. This was despite the fact that all Verid saw in his visions were moons. Always moons.

  When Verid first began his service here, apparently claiming how the Father of the Sun would fulfil the prophecy that foretold the great rise of our civilisation, he had foretold as well that the Father of the Sun would exalt his heir above himself, so that one day, many would praise him over and above the Father himself.

  So far, none of that had come true. The Father of the Sun hadn’t fulfilled the prophecy. Nor, had he ever exalted his heir…

  That had been the only time Verid spoke of Suns. Since then, it was only moons he prophesied about, beginning with a moon he saw that hung over a white city – a city which he had said was grander than Wind Tower. Verid spoke of a moon scaling a great tower that reached the clouds. He spoke of a moon that was disfigured, then he spoke of a red moon, before telling us of a moon that was darker than the night.

  Verid’s most recent vision of a moon was the reason why he was currently fretting like a frightened child. Not too long ago, he had seen that a moon would fall on the head of Asharal’s brother.

  “Surely if things go awry with Evenings, we could s
peak with them in an orderly fashion?” said the deluded prophet. “Surely we could come to terms with Asharal and his brother that wouldn’t lead to bloodshed.”

  I regarded him with my most intent gaze. Part of me wanted to obliterate him right there and then. The other part of me was too focused on drawing the courage I needed to face Asharal and avenge my brother.

  “I doubt it, Verid,” I said. “You know Asharal as well as I do. He will not be lenient towards one who prophesied the death of his brother.”

  “Yes, yes, but do see what is true. I saw what I saw. A moon will indeed fall on Sharal’s head. Does death not come to us all?”

  I gave the prophet a pained look and he realised my meaning, adding, “Yes, yes, except you. I speak of those who have not yet tasted the immortal waters of the Eternal Pool: death surely does seek us. Surely Asharal can see that I took no pleasure in what I saw? But the fact remains, it is what I saw.”

  I remained doubtful of Verid’s words. Rather, I imagined he took great pleasure in prophesying death on Asharal’s brother. The Seer had always gloated over those he saw as being beneath him.

  “I am sure he will be open to hearing your explanation, Verid.”

  “Do you believe so?” the prophet gushed, foolishly. “Truly? Do you truly think Asharal would let me live?”

  That was when I lost my patience. I stopped and grabbed the coward, shoving him hard against the wall.

  “If I really believed that, I would kill you myself instead!”

  Suddenly, my lady came close. “My Son, please. You must let me lea---

  “Move!” I said to Verid, forcing him to go on ahead of us. “Find the Father of the Sun. Tell him I am coming!”

  When Verid was gone, I looked into the eyes of my lady, and for a moment, all fear had been cast out. But time was fleeting. I needed to make her see why, just now, we had to part ways.

  “My lady. Head through this door here. Climb the steps until you reach the top. You will be safe there, in my private chambers.”