Epilogue - A Year and a Day
By James Attwood
It was the coldest winter they’d had for a while, huddled in the living room, sipping their evening drinks by the hearth. Zoe’s white eyes glinted with the orange flames, adopting the warmth of wherever she looked in this festively lit house. It reminded her of when they’d all come back last year, crammed into this room to share fond memories with one another. Of course, the Elderkins numbered fewer these days, just her and her own sat in this rustic abode. It wasn’t those she’d lost that made her company feel lacking however, not quite, but Maeve’s absence of course, an ever-empty spot in their family of late. The days had become easier, the mood not so miserable as the year that had passed them by, but today wasn’t any other day. It was the day. She heard the front door close, and the usual chaos ensue.
“Gelert! Hey Gelert come back here!” Fred chased after the puppy that bounded through the living room, traipsing all sorts of muck in its wake. He finally got a hold of the little terror, bundled in the towel he was waving, but not before the carpet was sodden and filthy.
“Every time mister, don’t take his lead off until he’s decent.” Raymond tutted, helping the boy with the energetic pup. He’d been ready to settle in for the night, adding, “You can clean this mess up.”
“Aw come on, I took him for a walk didn’t I.” He protested, wrangling the dog still.
“Hope honey!” Zoe shouted through to the kitchen, “Fred’s got his hands full so you can do the dishes tonight alright.”
“Aw what…” A similar moan came from the other room, but they knew she’d reluctantly see to it.
Fred walked through to fetch a cloth to see to the many paw prints but was most puzzled to find his sister on her hands and knees beneath the kitchen table. Crouching down to spy on her, he saw exactly what she was up to, negotiating with a familiar bwbach.
“Hey, that’s cheating.” He remarked with a humph.
“Shhh! They’ll hear you.” She shushed her brother, her fuzzy friend lifting its cream drenched snout from the bowl. No sooner had it slurped up its payment did it rush to the sink to begin scrubbing at the pans. She smiled, pleased with her antics, “See, he’s a good boy.”
Back by the fire Raymond settled back down by his wife, relaxed, and contented despite the significance of this day.
“She still thinks we haven’t noticed she smuggled that two-foot hamster back last time we went through?”
“Let her have her fun, no harm letting the non-magical stuff back through according to Ceridwen…” Zoe said idly, face turned to the warmth of the fire, her mind clearly somewhere else.
“We’ve got a nice fire; the kids are doing the chores for us and not a single mythical hero has bothered us all year.” Raymond could sense she was on edge, after all they’d been waiting for this all year. “Let’s enjoy this for now, whilst we’re waiting.”
“I know…” she struggled to smile; the significance of the hour having made her prior worries fresh once more, “...it’s just hard you know, now that were so close...what if she doesn’t…”
“Don’t worry, she’s coming back.” He got up to throw another log on the crackling fire and passed her the chocolate she’d let go cold, “She promised.”
“You’re right.” Zoe snuggled next to her husband as he sat back down, “She’ll be here.”
As the evening set in the house fell silent. Raymond had fallen asleep before the dying fire, Hope snoring in his arms. Fred was curled up on the rug, puppy nestled beside him. Yet Zoe endeavoured to stay awake, chin resting on her arm, watching out the window. It was dark, so dark, that all that pierced the blackness were specs of snow gliding to the floor before a looming shadow that obscured the sea. It was the oak’s bulk before the star glistened sky. Zoe could see none of this in reality, but in her mind’s eye she saw it all as clear as the days she’d watched out this window as a child.
She might have been sat there for minutes, hours even, but eventually what she’d hoped for, longed for, came. A faint hum, barely audible, resonated from the tree. Its bark reverberated with some swell of energy from within as its surface creaked and cracked to form the doorway only this oak could. Those empty white eyes lit up with life, shining a pale blue as they reflected the spectacle outside. She heard footsteps, four sets in fact, pressing through the crisp snow. They neared the house and finally a quiet fist sounded on the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The chair fell from beneath her as she rushed to wake the others, each of them bundling with her towards the door. Barely able to contain her anticipation she swung the door open for their visitors from another realm, a breeze of cold winter’s air bellowing in with it. Gleeful smiles crept over each of their faces as they saw who was there, Zoe could sense who it was. The colours of a thousand vibrant flowers that lined the shy maiden’s hair behind pierced the dim night. The bard, clad in his usual colourful garb helped along an old friend, withered and weak beneath his flowing robes with a beard as white as the snow, but free, free for the first time in an age. And stood in front of them all, arm still raised from tapping at the door, was a girl. A girl who’d been waiting a year and a day, a year and a day to step back through the trees.
The End