Spectres at the Feast

Death Comes with Dawn

Winner of the #PictureisWorth1000Words Contest

~*~*~*~

Wind whipped through Miriam's long, dark tresses, the strands flying in Tristan's face, surrounding him in the fragrant scent of cherry blossoms. Racing over the loamy earth, their feet pounded in unison. Dew clung to the hem of her dress, weighing her down, and she could feel the weakness seeping into her bones, but she pressed on.

"Hurry, Tristan!" Miriam cried. "We only have a little time left!" In vain, she listened for the Dawn Chorus to begin.

Sparing a backward glance, she missed the tree root in front of her. Falling forward, she slammed into the ground, her gown now stained and dirty, with twigs and bits of pine needles stuck to it. Cursing, she pounded her hands against the earth, struggling to rise, her chest heaving, and her breath labored. Tristan's strong arms lifted her, cradling her body against his, as his legs pumped steadily beneath them, resuming their circadian race.

"We will make it, my love. Do not fret. There is still time." Tristan panted, putting on a fresh burst of speed, weaving in and out of the densely forested terrain with sure-footed confidence.

"There is never enough time," she whispered wistfully. "I hate this half-life we must live." Her slender fingers threaded into his sun-kissed waves, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

"It is the life we are given, Miriam." Eyes of greenest jade bored into soft brown ones meaningfully.

"You shouldn't give up so much for me," she lamented. "You could have a full life- one without this shadow hanging over you."

"Miriam," he dared not stop, but his footfalls slowed for a moment, "Life without you would be no life at all. A half-life is better than nothing."

"But-"

"No more of this!" he did stop then, but noticing the lightening of the sky from deep indigo to hazy blue, he continued their trek. "I almost lost you forever. This is a small price to pay for the gift of your life. I would live a quarter-life to feel your lips on mine, to caress your skin, and breathe your scent each night."

~*~*~

Born the same day, in the same village, to different families, on the Spring Equinox, they were bound to one another from the moment they took their first breaths. Friendship turned to love, and love to passion. When they wed, the village showered them in cherry blossoms, and the priest blessed their union with a thousand blessings. They lived in utter bliss. Two hearts, beating the same beat; two breaths, breathing in time to one another.

But then, Miriam took ill. Shivering with fever, delirious, pale, and wasting away- she was only moments from death. Tristan was mad with grief, and despairing of a miracle. In one last desperate act, he ascended the Sacred Mountain seeking the Ancient One, rumored to live above the clouds.

It was an arduous journey, and he nearly fell to his death numerous times. Gasping for breath, bruised, bleeding, and with one last burst of energy, he had fallen over the Ancient's threshold. Refusing help for himself, he begged for a cure for his love- some way to save her life. The Ancient had gazed at him regretfully, looking almost as though he would turn him away empty-handed.

But then, something sparked in the unfathomable depths of his grey eyes.

"Children born the same day, the same moment, breathing their first breath as one, and during the Spring Equinox, no less," he had mused, one finger twirling the end of his wispy, silver beard. "You have one chance! It is slim, but if you hurry, it may just work."

"I'll do anything!" Tristan had rasped, his throat raw from his climb, and the thin atmosphere surrounding them.

"It is not the cure you are seeking," the Ancient had warned, "but you may find it better than the alternative."

~*~*~

Now, Tristan reflected, as he raced much the same race as he had that first night, it was better than the alternative.

"Almost there, my love," he murmured, noting the translucent pallor of her skin, the way her eyelashes fluttered with exhaustion, and most of all, how her breath had grown so weak, it was barely a whisper against his neck.

"I fear we will not make it this time, Tristan," she moaned.

"We are nearly there; we will make it." As soon as he said the words, the jewel-toned lake came into view, the snow-capped mountain standing as a sentinel above it. Sensing the forest coming to life, preparing for the morning, he put on speed, flying down the hillside to the water's edge.

Gently, placing her on her feet, he supported her slight frame in his strong embrace. "We are here, Miriam, love. Just as I promised."

Her slender hands rested against his chest, the thrumming of his racing heart matching her own. "You were right, as always, my love," she whispered.

The dawn was creeping closer and closer, fingers of pale light streaking across the sky, and the lovers' time was nearly spent. Bending down, Tristan captured Miriam's lips in a kiss so sweet and so soft, that she released a sigh of pure rapture.

"You were right a second time, this night, my love."

"I do love to hear you say that, but what do you mean, sweet one?"

"Our half-life is more than most people can hope for in a lifetime."

Her weakening body sagged against him, and he glanced upward, noting the dawn creeping ever nearer. He tenderly lowered her into the blessed waters of the lake, which gained its properties from the Sacred Mountain beyond, as he had, every night for the last ten years. They spared each other one last caress before she sank beneath the surface, her flesh melting away beneath the waves.

"I shall return this evening, and for as long as our love keeps bringing you back to me," Tristan vowed, as the first notes of the Dawn Chorus floated down the mountain, and over the water, on the crisp morning air.