In Waves

Eyes fixed on the shimmer of pale light over the surf. It sparkled, like stars pinned upon the crests so that sky and sea seemed as one. Waves glimmered against charcoal sand, speckled with fluorescent blue. This was her favorite season: the summertime, when the lunalgea settled into the reef and danced upon the mineral-rich sand. He had loved it, too…

Nuala sighed, sandy fingers tucking a silvery blond tress behind a pointed ear before leaning back into the shoreline. It’d been hours since the sun had set, and she wondered if he would truly abandon their promise; after all, she had been warned humans weren’t to be trusted. No, they were destructive creatures that crawled across their borders like parasites, snuffing out any sense of life until the very land they inhabited began to wither.

Yet, he had been different; kind words and gentle gestures had drawn her to him as she watched him free a leopardfox from a hunter’s snare. The beast had taken to him quite quickly after he was freed and had alerted to her nearby presence. Unlike most of the humans she had encountered, he did not make stern threats or reach for his weapon – or even seem afraid. Instead, a soft gaze entranced her from her perch upon an elder sycamore, and he’d encouraged her to come down. His name was Adven, he’d said, the son of a rather wealthy lord in the nearby settlement.

Adven…son of Lord Nilson Ryder of the Proudtalon settlement. Though her instincts pleaded with her to flee upon learning his identity, what she had witnessed fascinated her. Nuala had never seen a human show mercy to one of her own, much less a trapped wild animal. Tension had grown in the passing weeks between her village of Lyfhil as the Proudtalon settlement encroached ever closer to the valley. Yet…it hadn’t come between them. Instead, they had only seemed to grow closer as the summer days had passed.

Those days had been a haze to Nuala, passing in a whirl of hidden picnics in the wildflower meadow surrounded in the shrouds of the woodlands…moonlit strolls along the black-sand beach of the Starlight Sea. They had met in secret, stealing glances and sharing moments until they became braver. He’d shown her the cove where the humans stored the boats that brought them to the elven lands, now rotting with decay and neglect. She’d shown him the ruins of Nor’tessa, which had once been the market house of Lyfhil before the humans had come.

Nuala cringed to herself as the moment her father had seen her in the Nor’tessa ruins with him replayed in her brain. Rock shattered as his magic tore into a nearby pillar, spraying the human with sandstone brine and gravel. She pleaded with her wild-eyed father to simply get to know him; he struck again and scorned her in their native tongue. And, as Adven fled with fear, her father condemned her actions; after all – the human illnesses are what drove Nor’tessa to ruin. He had then secluded her to the village boundary.

“I’m sorry you waited so long.” Nuala jolted from the cool shoreline, and her eyes met his. Bright cerulean pierced her, like the breathtaking hue of the Starlight Sea, and for a fleeting moment, she found herself lost in them, drowning somewhere in the rolling waves.

“It was worth it,” she replied, and the brunet sat cross-legged beside her. Sand immediately clung to dark brown trousers, and he leaned back on his hands. He wore a simple linen shirt with a travel belt hoisted around his waist. Adven smiled his crooked smile at her and brushed a finger across his rounded nose.

“There’s a sailboat by the pier.” His voice was soothing against the lull and drone of the waves as they wore against the beach, leaving tracks of starlight in their wake. “But…I don’t think we should leave.”

“Why? My father will not allow me to set foot outside Lyfhil, and he nearly killed you as soon as he set eyes upon you,” Nuala said tersely. “If we have a hope of being together, there is no choice: we must leave here.”

“I know,” Adven responded, leaning forward. He brushed dark sand from his hands, and left shimmering flecks across his pants. Fingers delved into his weathered leather satchel, and he thrust a small, crumpled piece of parchment towards her. “But…I found this in my father’s study.” Brows furrowed as she tested him for a moment, but slender fingers unfurled the parchment, and eyes tore across the page.

“This…did you tell him…?” she stammered as she read the page again.

“No, he must have found out,” Adven answered. His hand grasped hers, supple and tender against callous and weathered skin, and irises of topaz met his gaze. “But if what this says is true…we can’t…we can’t just leave.”

“You do not know if it is true!” Nuala snapped back.

“And if it is?” he retorted sharply.

“My father will not trust the words of humans,” she said bluntly. “You endured his wrath yourself. Even if this message is true, my father would never allow –”

“But mine will!” he interrupted gleefully. “Please – will you go with me to see him?” Eyes of warm amber studied the freckled brunet as waves washed near their feet, leaving trails of luminescent blue in its wake as it receded back to whence it came.

“What if it is a mistake to trust him?” Nuala queried quietly, the words trembling as they fell from her lips like snowfall in the winter. “What if he is manipulating you again?”

“Then we’ll take that sailboat to the ends of the ocean,” Adven smiled, and soft lips pressed against her forehead as her eyes sank closed.

“Mortona seld friadae,” she muttered apprehensively in her native tongue; she gave a soft sigh before looking back to those oceanic eyes before her. “…Let us hear what he has to say,” she resolved. He stood, offering her a gloved hand, and helping her to her feet. Gauzy pink fabric floated in the sea breeze as she followed close behind him, flecks of charcoal sand glittering as it fell from her dress.

Adven led her back to the edge of the sand dunes and up the path to the nearby woods. Nuala’s heart leapt as they slid passed the border of Proudtalon, a puzzled guard nodding hesitantly at the pair as they moved into the settlement. Excitedly, he half-dragged her along behind him, down a stone-cobbled path flanked with kempt log houses on either side. It was late; the occasional torchlight spilled onto the road and led them to the heart of the settlement. A stone archway rose over the end of the cobbled path, carved with the name “Ryder” at its crest. Past it, moonlight illuminated the dirt roadway as it reached towards a large estate. Cows and sheep snoozed in the pastures on either side of the path, huddled beneath patches of limber pines, and she let her eyes find the estate as they approached it.

Like those they’d passed before, the house was built of logged timber. However, it dwarfed the others they had passed, nearly as tall as the elder oak at its front. Log columns held up a rooftop over the front, adorned with torches on either side, framing the polished wooden door that led to the inside of the massive estate. Lord Nilson Ryder had clearly spared no expense in building his estate to demonstrate his authority.

It flickered over her mind again: humans cannot be trusted.

What if this was a setup? Had she been naïve to believe this human could care for her as she did for him? Her father had suggested it as a ruse to seek acceptance by the elves for the culturing of their land, the encroachment on their own homes – or, at worse, a ploy to capture her for ransom and leverage. Nuala had told her father he was mistaken, that Adven did care for her…but now, approaching the wealthiest lord of the human settlement…

“Adven – wait,” Nuala insisted, and he paused at her behest.

“What is it?” he queried, brows furrowed and lips taut.

“My father said…” her voice trailed as her eyes fell to her feet. “I do not even want to say it…”

“Nuala…you can say anything to me,” Adven responded, soft hands clasping hers reassuringly. Finally, her gaze lifted from the dirt path before them, and eyes of golden sun met those of the human.

“He said that…you are only using me, that your love is false, and you wish to use me to get to Lyfhil.” His gaze didn’t waver, though something she couldn’t quite place flickered through his expression as she spoke. “I want to trust you…but my father’s words…”

“Your father doesn’t trust humans,” he responded softly. Fingers, coarse with use, tucked a silken tress behind her ear and gently cupped her cheek. It was warm against her skin, and she placed her own delicate palm atop his own. “If you want to leave and not look back, I won’t stop you. But Nuala…I hope you won’t.”

Nuala closed her eyes tightly as she imagined what might be.

Eyes opened; she considered the brunet, the gentleness of his touch upon placid moonlit skin; those eyes beseeched her, pleaded with her, and she gave a soft nod. Thin, rigid lips slid into a warm smile, and irises came alive with the nearby torchlight. Again, he took her hand and led her to the doorway.

Many trees had been felled to build the estate, and their husks were ornately carved with a vine motif above the frame. Wordlessly, he pulled the brass handle, and the door gave a soft clatter as he closed it behind them. Nuala had thought the outside was opulent, but the interior was absolutely lavish. As they stepped into the grand foyer, warm torchlight illuminated the intricate details of the vine motif that twisted and turned across the walls and up the sweeping staircase. The house may have been grandiose for Nuala's taste, but there was no denying the craftsmanship and attention to detail that had gone into every corner. Wordlessly, he led her through the halls, their footsteps echoing softly on the stone floors.

Upstairs, they entered a room where the night light cast a blue glow on the polished wood panels and the soft fabrics of the furnishings. Adven lit the fireplace across the room, and Nuala ran her hand along the back of a velvet sofa, its deep purple hue a rich contrast to the golden hues of the room. The house may have been built on the backs of felled trees, but it now stood as a testament to the beauty that could be created from them.

Through a set of glass doors, a balcony offered a view of the estate's sprawling grounds, bathed in pearly moonlight. Nuala imagined the trees that once stood here, their branches reaching for the sky. Now, only the faintest hint of the land’s former life remained in the carefully manicured.

“Wait here,” Adven said. “I’ll fetch my father.”

“Adven…” she managed hoarsely, clearing her throat delicately against the dry air of the manor. “You are sure about this?”

“…I am,” he answered her, and she smiled softly back at him. He beamed brightly, turning as he rushed through the parlor doorway and back down the hallway. She tentatively explored her surroundings – the books in his native tongue, words she couldn’t quite make out; she could speak the human tongue well, but she was not as keen on the written word – though she had fared well, all things considered. There were trinkets and small sculptures of creatures – some she recognized and others she had never seen.

It wasn’t long before she heard the scuffle of footsteps from down the hall and the heel-toe of boots following quickly behind. Adven reentered the parlor followed by a tall, regal looking human. His chest was puffed out and his arms were thick like tree branches. Dark eyes were nearly hidden beneath thick auburn eyebrows, and a matching mustache bristled as he cleared his throat.

“Father, this is Nuala of Lyfhil,” Adven introduced proudly, and Nuala gave a customary headbow. “Nuala, this is my father, Lord Nilson Ryder of Proudtalon.”

“Athaleede ce maletheaeid,” Nuala greeted in her native tongue, then translated, “it is my honor to meet you.”

“Yes, yes…” Lord Ryder replied haughtily and with little regard for the greeting. “Out with it boy, why have you brought this elf here to see me?” Nuala recoiled, glancing over to Adven.

“S-she is the daughter of the High Elf,” Adven added nervously; his father’s mustache upturned in a smile at that.

“Good, good…” he said. “Well, show her to her guest room for the night, and we’ll talk more about her arrangements in the morning.”

“Arrangements?” Nuala repeated. “Forgive me, but I had not intended to stay the night.”

“Nonsense!” Lord Ryder bolstered. “After all, it would be rude to refuse such an accommodation, right m’boy?”

“Right,” Adven agreed. “This way, Nuala.” He offered his hand to her, and she hesitantly took it; when she didn’t follow right away, he gave a soft tug to unanchor her and she followed, bewildered.

“Adven, I do not understand – what is happening?” she demanded sharply as they reached the guest room; like the rest of the house, the door was ornately crafted with vine motifs and spared no extravagance in detail. Silently, he opened the door and flung her inside. Nuala gasped as she stumbled into the dark room, moonlight painting the furnishings in velvet blue as she managed to catch herself on a banister of the bedframe. Torchlight spilled in orange from the hallway like fire, silhouetting him as he stood over her.

“This will be your home now,” Adven growled, his voice unlike anything she’d heard before; it was darker, twisted and hungry, and she saw a devious grin prickle at his lips. “But don’t worry, you won’t always be alone.” Fingers started to unbuckle his belt, and it slithered like a snake from his belt loops. “After all, we need a little security that your father won’t us his magic to just kill us.”

“Adven!” Tears swelled in her eyes as she pulled herself upright against the banister. “I do not understand! Everything you said…?!” Pain struck across her cheek, and she found herself against the cold stone of the floor. Heat burned against her face where his hand had struck, and the tears streamed down her face. Shaking hands pushed her up from the floor and the flicker of torchlight caught her eye; a leopardfox pelt draped the sitting chair beside the bed, and she gasped. Trembling, she turned. He stood over her, his shirt unbuttoned, chest exposed. She had dreamt of this moment – their mating, their love making…but this…not like this…

“Nuala?”

Eyes snapped open; she considered the brunet, the gentleness of his touch upon placid moonlit skin. Nuala stepped back, stepped away from the warmly lit carvings of the door before her, of intricate vines etched deep into the flickering shadow as the world around her refocused. She felt a tear across her cheek, and she brushed it away. It had been a vision – a premonition? Nuala blinked back the vision – or was it a premonition? - of Adven standing over her in the torchlight of the Ryder manor, the grin that made her skin crawl…

“I…I am sorry,” she said finally. “This summer…has been wonderful. But…but I cannot.” Without awaiting his response, she turned on her heel and ran. Feet carried her quickly and gracefully back down the cobbled path, through the woods, down to the beach where waves of florescent blue still washed over rocks and sand. Stumbling, she followed the beach to the black stone cliffs and back up the mount, through the trees and through the mossy gates of Lyfhil.

She slowed, breath ragged, struggling to steady herself as she gulped in the cool air. Nuala trembled as she allowed herself to sink against the stones along the pathway, and the memory of the chilled stone floor of the manor crept into her mind. She shook herself free, and finally allowed herself to rest.

Dawn had broken in the sky when she rose again, the rose hues of morning chewing away at the nighttime indigo so that everything was a warmer shade of grey. When finally, she pulled herself from the rock bed and climbed her way to her father’s keep, she found him sitting beneath the shade of a large elder tree. She readied herself for rage, but when her amber eyes met his, her father’s gaze was soft with relief.

“I feared you would not return.” Her father spoke their native tongue, and she smiled; it was good to hear after a night of speaking the human language.

“I am home, Father,” she answered. “I am sorry I have worried you.”

“I saw you leave the beach with the human.” Her heart dropped. So, he had known all this time that she was still spending time with Adven? Nuala sat across her father cross-legged beneath the elder tree.

Nuala swallowed; it was fear that had driven her choice, fear of the unknown of what could happen to her, to her father – her home. In fact, the vision she had seen…it might not have even been remotely true. It could have been entirely false. It might have been her father’s warning, his cautioning and all his fears come to life inside her.

Yet that moment…Adven towering over her, that sinister expression, the lust in his eyes… She felt her breath quicken and her eyes burn. That vision gripped her, held a grip on her heart, held something in her that she hadn’t known existed.

And now…she’d never know what was left behind on the summer breeze and luminescent ocean waves.