The Lost: Part 19

The wind howled outside the tower and here and there found entrance through cracks to chase itself about the room. Occasionally it ruffled the clothes or fair hair of the lone occupant, but Ashevathallion of Clan Silver Rose had endured worse than a cold draft and he sat unmoved. He stared for long silent hours at the fire dwindling in the small hearth before him, lost in his memories and his thoughts. At last he rose with a sigh moving over to throw open the wooden shutters of the lone window of his apartment gazed out on snow covered Camelot.

Off in the distance the ocean glowed silver in the moonlight. He closed his eyes and fell easily into the light trance that was needed, aided by the very room itself. This had been the residence of Lady Xanthia for a time before her marriage to Blackhawke and the energies left behind by her workings now aided in his. He sent His mind out swiftly and surely, and directly to where he sensed the presence of his brother Yarrow.

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This had not been the easiest of crossings Yarrow had ever made to the hidden Isle, which in some elven dialects was called Tol Dolen. The Autumn was giving Way to Winter and the seas were not going along gently with the change of seasons. Duir had shut himself up in the cabin to ride out the storm, but Yarrow stayed on deck, hand gripping lines for support as he roared with laughter at every toss and dip of the water. He'd long ago discarded his soaked tunic and was now seriously considering doing the same with boots and breeches, the better to meet the elements head-on. He wound a rope about his forearm, and was about to remove his boot when some spray burst over the ship's rail. Instead of whirling away on the wind, the veil of water coalesced and glowed, and then a figure appeared upon it.

"Ashe! Brother! Come, ride the waves with me!" Yarrow held out his free hand towards the image; Ashe appeared to be gazing at him from a narrow window. "Say yes, my brother! It will be like the old days!"

"Yarrow, the old days are gone, you saw to that. Brother, I beg you, return the girls to Ian of your own choice. It is the only way we can be what we once were to each other. Please, do this thing!"

"Always, Ian. What of me? What of Rowan?"

"Rowan is dead, Yarrow. This will not change that, and I know she would not approve. Will you meet her in the Summer Lands with the knowledge of what you have done on your soul?"

Yarrow howled with rage. Behind him the crew who witnessed saw only that he seemed to be talking to himself, and made gestures to ward off evil. He would have been greatly amused by that if he had seen it, but instead he glared at the image of his far off brother. "He killed her! Him and that dog of a father! I told you that if Rowan bore that man a child naught good would come of it. And you would not listen to me!"

"You always loved Rowan too much, and yet not enough to do the right thing."

"It was you, wasn't it? It was you who kept Ian from mentioning I had his daughters to our father when he visited, wasn't it?"

Ashe nodded. "To my shame, brother, to my shame. I knew what would come of it. Evaynan would banish you, and it would have broken his heart. I hoped I could convince you make peace with Ian, and return the girls, Yarrow. You still have time to do the right thing."

"Never!"

His twin shook his head sadly. "I give you this final chance, Yarrow. You have until MidWinter. After that, I will go to Father and tell him what I know. That's nearly two moons. More than that, I cannot or will not do."

"Fine! You do what you must, brother, and so will I." He made an angry gesture and the veil of water dissolved into mist.

In the tower room back at Camelot, Ashe turned back to stare at the fire and grieve for the past.

On the deck of the wildly plunging ship, his twin shouted angrily into the storm and wiped the moisture away from his eyes.

It was not seawater, but it still tasted bitter.