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    The Evening Tide
    The Evening Tide
    The Evening Tide
    Ebook112 pages2 hours

    The Evening Tide

    By Jeremy Forsyth

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    About this ebook

    The Sun Elves yearn for the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy that has foretold their rise amidst moon and stars. Among them there is one who will wait no longer for such a prophecy to come to pass. Asharal seeks to dethrone the ruling family, the Winds, who have just done the impossible: they have discovered immortality.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJeremy Forsyth
    Release dateMay 12, 2017
    ISBN9781370498017
    The Evening Tide
    Author

    Jeremy Forsyth

    Jeremy Forsyth is the author of The Sun, Moon, Sand, and Star series, which include The Evening Tide, The Broken Rose, The Missing, The Raven Heiress, and The Little Fairleaf. To get his books cheaper than you would on Amazon, simply visit www.jeremyforsyth.co.za now! But if you want the books but don't want to spend, check out Jeremy Forsyth's current promotions and giveaways: The Sun, Moon, Sand, and Star Giveaway: https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/1126895-the-sun-moon-sand-and-star-series-giveaway Otherwise, you can find him on social media: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Jeremy-Forsyth-103933844788832 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jays_andrew/?hl=en

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    • 5/5
      Surprisingly good!!! I have lots off fun reading it and I'm eager for more.

    Book preview

    The Evening Tide - Jeremy Forsyth

    Chapter 1

    The Lover

    They're saying it will be the day of eternity, a day to remember. They're saying that, at long last, the Winds of Wind Tower have done it, have achieved what rumour had only teased would be possible. They're saying that the Winds will cause the Sun to hang high and suspended throughout the ages, with a brilliance that will never falter.

    The sun in my eyes rises now from the voice of this Crier, sweet Pebble, Papa said to me, his kind eyes lowering, before looking forward again towards that same Crier and his yellow scroll.

    Papa’s enthusiasm was as apparent as the dirt beneath my fingernails, and I desperately wanted to share in his happiness. But I couldn’t, not while the ‘sun in my eyes’ rose behind me, closer to home and not here in the glade’s damp square.

    Long live the Son of the Father, the Crier went, for he gets the first taste of immortality, of everlasting life!

    A loud cheer went up from some of the people standing in the square, those who appeared unconcerned about the light rain spitting down from the gloomy sky. Somewhere in the world, thunder rumbled, and the winds around the glades were stirring.

    After leaving the square, Papa let go of my hand, sensing that it was safe, remembering that, for a lady to enter a public setting without being claimed by her father or spouse, was to invite calamity upon her virtue. It was a sad arrangement of the island if I had to think about it, but it was something that had always been, so I never allowed it to bother me.

    I listened with strained concentration while Papa expressed his excitement. My distraction came from thinking about the elf who I would see once Papa and I returned home, the elf who would be waiting for me in the woods, as he always did. He was all I thought of these days.

    The Father of the Sun has used his spells to grant us all immortality, sweet Pebble! Papa celebrated. Death, as of now, will become a fading memory - a dream one eventually forgets as the days pass. Blessed be the Winds of Wind Tower! Blessed are those who will cause the Sun to outshine all!

    The Sun, as Papa said, was our civilization. We were the Sun Elves, and according to an ancient prophecy, our people were destined to one day rise high amidst the moon and stars - whatever that meant. It was a prophecy our people have held fast to for so many years that it was no wonder the majority of the Sun Elves resented the Winds, cursing them in their cups.

    The Winds were the ruling family on this rugged island of ours, and for years, the Sun Elves believed that the Winds would be the ones who would fulfill the prophecy - but for years, it appeared as if the Winds had failed, until now.

    Wait until your mother hears, Papa exclaimed.

    Mother. I loved her so much. She saw the ruling family in a similar light as most of our people, and would continuously argue with Papa over their dubious rectitude.

    He is a false Father! Mother had once called the ruler of the Sun, his title being the Father of the Sun.

    Hush, beloved, Papa had rebuked. Give him time. The Father of the Sun seeks to rid our island of death! What ruler in this entire world can say that?

    While he seeks to rid our island of death, death takes those on our island! The Sun is a race of poverty! The people are hungry and uneducated! The Winds have made us a disgrace upon the earth!

    The Winds are trying to make us great!

    The Winds are trying to make themselves great!

    I hated it when my parents fought - it was hardly ever, to be fair, and it only ever happened when they discussed the Winds of Wind Tower. A part of me was pleased to hear that the Father of the Sun had finally succeeded, had found a way to achieve immortality for his people, for now, Mother would see that Papa was right; now, they would not fight.

    Can I tell Mother once we arrive home? I asked.

    Of course, sweet Pebble, Papa said, fondly.

    I smiled, but when the path passed beneath the archway of the glades, my smile quickly disappeared. Two rough-looking elves were making their way in our direction, one of them being lean and scruffy, the other short and stocky. Both elves looked miserable and dirty, with long, matted hair.

    I saw that I had caught their attention, and so I quickly took Papa’s hand again and, almost instantly, the interest I had inspired in the two elves diminished, and they passed us without a second glance.

    Our hut rose from the banks of the gushing river, and was surrounded by a fortification of rocks, which I had always seen as our protective wall, even though they only shielded our home from the riverside and not the trees Papa and I had just passed under.

    Mother came out our hut, was wearing her apron, and carrying a cooking pot, which she was now drying. Her honey-colored hair was tied up in a thick knot above her head, and her smile was like the dawn upon the horizon: it was full of radiant color and warmth.

    I embraced her with all my devotion, and though she reciprocated, Mother was in a hurry, desiring Papa and me to get inside, seeing as the winds were picking up and the rain would pour fiercely, seemingly at any time.

    Wait till you hear what news we have, Mother, I told her.

    She glanced at Papa but then smiled at me, giving me her full attention. Tell me, sweet, Rose.

    The Father of the Sun has discovered immortality!

    I could see that Mother had not expected that; her expression changed to one of surprise and feigned joy. Unlike Papa, she would not get her hopes up just yet.

    How do you know this, sweet Rose?

    There was a Crier in the glade’s square today, answered Papa.

    Mother looked up at him, and I saw the distrust in her dark eyes. And your business there? she asked. How did that go?

    Do you see my catch with me? Papa asked her, a smile riding his tone.

    I couldn’t help but reveal all. Papa sold all of it! And the Winds have done it! They have achieved immortality!

    Has the Father drunk from the waters? asked Mother.

    It is said that the Son of the Father is to be the first to taste the Eternal Pool, referring to the Father's son and heir.

    My mother shook her head in disapproval and scoffed. Of course! If the Father conjured up the wrong spell, then nature forbid that he risks his own person!

    Beloved, be still, said Papa tenderly. Let us see what will come from these new developments. He moved to embrace her, and when their lips collided, my mother’s smile beamed from ear to ear.

    Afterward, Papa turned towards the front door and removed his hood while my mother set her sights on me again.

    You have a visitor, sweet Rose, she told me.

    At the announcement, a palpable silence gripped our hut. I could hear nothing but the churning waters outside, as well as the wind chimes at our window, and then the vague sound of brooding thunder in some faraway place of the world.

    Who is it? I asked, unable to keep the smile from my face, for I knew who it was. I saw it in my mother’s eyes; she was not pleased, was almost sad, and concerned.

    Let us talk awhile first before you set off to meet him.

    Why does he not meet her here? asked Papa, his tone hard and distrustful.

    I looked at him. He likes the trees, trying to offer a suitable explanation, knowing

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