by Olivia Ali
Chapter 17 - Sins of the Father
A strange feeling of déjà vu crept over Tristan as he lingered by the open window to the cottage, he and his father called home. Theorryn was slumped in his chair, his head resting on his hand and a forlorn look on his face. Tristan had never seen him look like this – his face looked so old and wrinkled; stress and concern pouring from his tired eyes. He scanned the table and the floor for any signs of bottles, flagons…anything he could pinpoint to go in a have a judgement about his father already made. But there was nothing. The sitting room, if anything, actually looked tidy for a change. Peering round into the kitchen lead to exactly the same image – an ordered family home. Tristan stepped back in disbelief, half happy for the surprise and half disappointed if anything. However, the disappointed half was slowly fading to become a feeling of pity towards this flaccid old man that sat in the living room awaiting the homecoming of his son. Sighing heavily, Tristan braced himself before entering his once home.
“Tristan?” Theorryn jumped up from his chair at the sound of the front door shutting.
Turning on the spot, his eyes were welcomed by the sight of his son. Somehow, he seemed different; changed for the better. Perhaps him remembering everything he had done was good for him after all. He relaxed his stance slightly, waiting for Tristan to start; say something…say anything for that matter. When he didn’t, Theorryn sighed, watching Tristan calmly take up a chair at the table in the kitchen, like he was waiting for his father to tell him his side of the story.
“I am glad at least that you look well,” Theorryn began but Tristan said nothing in response. “What have you been up to then?” Still Tristan didn’t answer, not that he was expecting him to. “I must say Tristan that I am so sorry for what has happened. I really should’ve told you everything right from the start.” When Tristan still said nothing, he placed his hands impatiently on his hips. “I don’t know what else I can say to you. Sorry just…doesn’t seem enough.” Nothing, not even a muttering of some form. He just stared back at his father saying nothing. “I mean if I could turn back…”
“Stop right there!” Tristan exclaimed, his eyes flashing with sudden anger that he tried desperately to quell. “That’s enough of the excuses.”
“Right…of course. Let me just say this. Um…how to put it. I really did want to tell you everything but things never seemed to let me tell you. Plus, she’s dead you know…you lost a wife and a daughter and I lost a granddaughter…and there was no way I wanted to make you relive it.”
There was a long silence. Both father and son stared at each other, the shared stubbornness speaking volumes. Both were determined not to falter, and seemed to be doing very well with the continued silence.
“She’s alive!” Tristan said finally, folding his arms across his chest. “My daughter…Evie…is alive.”
Theorryn stared in disbelief at his son but the disbelief was shared as well by Tristan as though he wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not that his father thought Evelyn was dead.
“Impossible!” Theorryn stammered. “But the fire…and how would you know anyway.”
“Because I’ve seen her. I didn’t know who she was but…I’ve seen her.”
“Where…here?” Tristan nodded. “I don’t understand.”
“The other day I went to see mum’s grave and lay some flowers. This little girl appeared out of nowhere. She didn’t say anything but there was a man shouting the name Evelyn, He was distraught. I assumed she was his daughter. He finally came to where we stood and he was happy to see her and she him. He said that he was looking after her for a friend and they disappeared again.”
“So you’re basing this on a little girl who had the same name?”
“Not just that no.” Tristan paused for a moment, realising that he was being genuine. “Merlin told me there was a fire at the inn and Cedric, Myrina and Evie were inside. Their bodies were found by the city guards and everyone assumed it to be them. But Cedric he…he came to see me.”
“He what?”
“Well not exactly. There was a package at the smithy for him. No idea what was in it but he accepted it and walked out saying nothing to me. I don’t know whether he was expecting me to recognise him but he dropped something when he left…he dropped that picture of me Dags and…and Evie.”
“Tristan, I had no idea he was here!” Theorryn came to sit beside Tristan at the table, placing his hands in front of him calmly. “This is all such a mess. And you’re right…there’s no more excuses left to give. What’s done is done…it’s time to move forward. So I would like to start by saying sorry…again but this time for a different reason.” Tristan looked his father in the eye. “I understand I’ve…I mean since your mother died that I’ve not exactly been the best father in the world…especially to you. And although I’ve not really shown it in the best way, I really am proud of the man you are today…and I’m sorry that I don’t always show that.” Tristan nodded his head in acceptance.
“I guess it runs in the family…I mean I looked my daughter right in the eyes and I didn’t even know it was her.”
“You can’t be to blame for that…if anything I am to blame. You must not think it is your fault.”
“But what if it is...what if whatever happened to me was my fault to begin with.”
“Tristan…have I ever told you why I never liked the Keepers?” Tristan shook his head.
“I always thought it was because of how Romeo died…not that I remember how he died but I just always assumed the two events were linked.”
“It’s one of the reasons but not the primary reason. When I was your age, I trained to become a Keeper as well. I was an orphan you see and when I started showing certain…gifts…they took me in and raised me. But they…one of them betrayed me…betrayed me and your uncles. And the, situation, shall we say was never resolved. The Keepers simply acted like it never happened. So…we left and I never forgave them.”
“So why did you let me and Romeo join their ranks?”
“Because at the end of the day the choice was yours. It wasn’t for me to tell you yes or no you were old enough to make that decision yourselves. And besides, Keeper gifts left untamed are the very reason the betrayers betray so they say. I could not keep you from your destiny.”
Tristan looked away and down at the scars upon his hands, tears that would never spill forming in his eyes. Theorryn studied his son, taking note of his brokenness and how in one week…less even, he had seen his son change unbelievably so. He had watched him break and shatter into tiny pieces like a mirror on impact. The shards show distorted images in our reflection, some joining together to make a whole but very rarely is that whole perfect. Its image is never again resolute, it can never again show a true image of the man that looks upon it.
“I have every faith in you Tristan,” reassured Theorryn. “One day soon I am sure you will remember everything you achieved…”
“That’s why I am leaving Az Lagní tomorrow morning.” Tristan stated, his father looking up at him with confused eyes. “I am going to Dilu with Merlin and D…a friend from the past.”
“I see…”
“They think a more practical method will help me to remember. After all, haste is important now that I have a daughter out there somewhere.” Theorryn nodded in agreement. “I will of course write as often as I can though, let you know how I’m getting on.”
“Well, I wish all the luck I have to give. But perhaps I can help…wait right here.”
Tristan watched as his father got up from his seat and disappeared out of sight into the sitting room. He could hear the creaking of the stairs and footsteps above him as Theorryn passed the upper floor. He wasn’t sure what his father was fetching but he was curious all the same; so he waited patiently for his father to return.
“Merlin gave me a few things when you came back,” puffed Theorryn as he dropped something heavy on the table, jolting Tristan suddenly. He seemed to have gone off in a daze slightly, un
aware that his father had even come back into the room. Rising from his seat, he watched as Theorryn opened the box, dust enveloping the air as he did so.
“That’s a big box for him to have bought back from Hasaghar,” observed Tristan.
“Oh, he didn’t bring back all the stuff in here, just a couple of bits. The main contents of this box are the letters you and Romeo would write me while you were with the Keeperhood.”
“You kept them all?”
“Every last one! Ah here we are.”
The table jolted again as a couple of hefty books were slammed onto the table, dust rippling off the hardback covers. As Theorryn dug back into the box, Tristan observed the spines, taking note of the titles; Annals of Union - L: I the other two being the same except for their numberings.
“Don’t ask me what those books are about,” Theorryn ordered, noticing Tristan’s curious look. “There’s no writing in them…they’re just blank.” Tristan shrugged his shoulders – if it was indeed about Union then it would make sense that his father couldn’t read them for the secrets of Union were only known to themselves, but even so they shouldn’t leave the Shrine... “Do you remember any of these items? They have no meaning to me but perhaps they might to you.”
Tristan watched as Theorryn placed the items atop the book. First, he placed a gold necklace with a large onyx pendant, pausing a few moments to watch for Tristan’s reaction. The necklace didn’t trigger anything, it just caused a shudder to run up his spine and an image flash before his eyes but it passed too quickly for him to take anything from it. The next item Theorryn took out was one which puzzled Tristan and one that sparked an instant memory in his head – as though someone had simply placed it back where it belonged.
“That was the ring I presented to Dagnen on our wedding,” Tristan stammered, trying to figure out why it would be there in the first place. He figured he must’ve removed them from her hand before she was buried.
“And its partner…”
Theorryn placed another ring beside it and Tristan came to stand beside him, taking them both within his hands. The first ring his father had retrieved from the box was an endless gold band which entwined into a heart shape at the front. There was no tarnishing to the sheen amazingly – it still sparkled as brilliantly as the memory that now lingered in his mind; a memory of him placing the ring on Dagnen’s finger in front of all their guests with Merlin at their heads leading the ceremony. The other ring, gold as well, had two gemstones on the front; one pink with greenish tinges and the other a light blue with yellow tinges. Surrounding these was a circle of tiny sparkling crystals Tristan assumed to be some form of diamond. The names of the gems escaped him for the moment but the ring itself he remembered already being on the finger of which he had placed the gold band.
“The rings themselves resemble an ancient Salysman tradition,” Theorryn explained, filling in the missing pieces of information within Tristan’s memory. “This ring is known as the Today, Tomorrow and Forever ring.” He pointed to the gemstone ring first. “Both of these gems would have been mined by the dessert men who burrow deep into the sand to find these gems. Many say they are from the core of the Earth itself but of course if that were true many would die from the pressure before getting that far. Anyway, that’s beside the point…the pink gem symbolises today, the blue tomorrow and the endless circle of diamonds forever. The gold band the same; an endless circle of unbreakable love. The idea would be that you ask the father or carer for their blessing and then present the love interest with the Today, Tomorrow and Forever ring and then at the actual ceremony you present them with the gold band to mark the union of the two.”
Tristan smiled slightly, his heart fluttering with warmth as he recalled the rings upon her finger on the day of their wedding. The white lacy dress of which she wore with the translucent white veil and the flower crown upon her head. Her green eyes twinkled in the daylight and her petite face stretched into a sweet smile.
“I have no idea what happened to the gold band she gave you on that day,” Theorryn said, bringing Tristan back to the present day. “But I’m sure it’s lying around somewhere. This is the last item I was left with.”
Theorryn reached into the box one final time and lifted out an ornate trinket box of some form. He placed the box within Tristan’s hands, the cold tinge of the golden sculpted feet making another shiver run down his spine. He studied the patterns along the eight sides of the octagonal box, the corners and edges of which were wired in this sparkling gold. The patterns upon the box were very eastern in style; paintings with base colours of light blues and lilacs with contrasting butterflies and flowers of pinks and yellows against the backdrops. At the top of the lid was a golden spire which acted as a handle for which to pull the lid open. Admiring the workmanship of the piece, Tristan tried to remember the context of it but the thought failed to retain itself.
“It’s a music box,” Theorryn explained when Tristan didn’t give the reaction he was hoping for. He took it from his hands and flipped it over, turning a key on the bottom before putting it the right way up. “Now lift up the lid, let’s see if this practical method works.”
Eager to understand what his father was saying, he slowly opened the lid; a sweet lullaby of a tune silencing the demons of doubt within his mind as though they were a cavalry of horsemen chasing away the dark. The tune bought with it a memory which was influenced further by the dancing couple that twirled as the box was opened to its fullness. Theorryn watched in wonderment as his son’s eyes sparkled, a smile touching the ends of his lips. He smiled to himself, the tune bringing memories of his own into view as he let Tristan follow the images appearing in his mind.
The images took Tristan to a much more homely version of his own sitting room. There was more colour than there was in the present day; colourful tapestry throws covering the couch and chairs with a rug upon the wood floor. A piano sat in the corner by the stairs, one which was now beyond retuning. A woman sat at the piano with a young boy by her side. He recognised the woman to be his mother, her long blonde hair tied up in a messy bun on the top of her head, a brown smock covering her white under-dress. A smile decorated her face, masking the ill-natured drained look that he, as his older self-recognised. She played a tune to the young boy, who nodded his head in time with it; his head eventually falling onto his mother’s shoulder in sleep.
This image soon trickled away though and was replaced by another that swam into view. This time a much older him sat beside a brunette at a similar looking piano in the corner of a quiet public house. Only a few punters were scattered around the converted barrel tables and there in the corner sat he and the brunette. She played he same tune, and he smiled alongside her, occasionally trying his own hand at the keys but he could never get the same gentle tone which she could.
Suddenly the tune was gone and he was back in the kitchen of him and his father’s cottage, a sudden sadness gripping him as he longed for the memory to stay a while longer. Noticing the smile slip from his face, Theorryn placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly and supportively, as he always should’ve done.
“It is alright my boy,” he assured in a compassionate tone. “You will remember her…you will remember them all in time, I am sure.”
Tristan nodded, closing the lid of the box after placing the two rings inside it along with the pendant.
“Thank you for showing me all this,” Tristan sympathised, shrugging his father’s hand off of his shoulder. Listen, there’s a couple of us having some drinks tonight what with me leaving tomorrow. Maybe you could join us?”
“You know, I think I’d like that!” Theorryn smiled, the wrinkles on his old face all joining into one. “What time do you leave in the morning?”
“Depends on how much we drink tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan!” Theorryn chortled along, clapping a hand on his bony chest as Tristan backed towards the front door.
“I’ll see you tonight then.”
�
�That you will my boy, that you will.”
Tristan nodded again, a slight smile touching the end of his lips as he left the house. Theorryn on the other hand remained where he stood, picking up a scroll at random from the box and scanning over the words. Part of him was disappointed he had not asked him to join them on their journey to Dilu but he knew this was something Tristan had to do on his own without people who might interfere; a distraction he knew all too well he may provide. As he finished reading over the words once more, he looked up in time to see an eagle flash past the window, a scroll dropping into the washing bowl atop the surface. As the scroll slipped out of view, he caught sight of the royal seal that was waxed to close it tight, fear creeping into his eyes. For now, ignorance was bliss…but that’s the problem with ‘for now’; there was always an end to it.