Autumn's Fall

XIX. A Clash of the Seasons

With a jolt, the Minister of Summer looked up from the book he was reading. Something was wrong. Peering into the dimly lit area around the fountain, he searched for the cause of the disruption. He didn't have to wait long.

From the grass below his feet to the leaves on the branches above him, every plant began to shiver as one, moving in unnatural ways. The Minister of Summer slammed shut his book, jumped to his feet, and raced along the corridors of the tower. There was only one person who would cause such a reaction, and he knew where to find him. What worried him was that this had become a somewhat regular occurrence since the fall of Autumn, not ten days past.

He slowed his gait before a pair of large double doors, decorated with carvings of crawling vines and dancing leaves, and thrust the doors open. It was mostly dark inside; one tall window let in a stream of bright moonlight illuminating the large four-poster bed on one side of the room. The bedsheets were tossing and turning as a garbled, frantic voice came from beneath them.

The Minister of Summer put his hands on his hips and sighed. There was only one thing to do in this situation. A small table sat to the side of the bed; a single candle lay on top of it which he lit with a snap of his fingers. He could see the anguished form on the bed now, writhing about in a land of nightmares from which he could not escape without help.

Another sigh escaped his lips as he took up a cup of water standing next to the bed, gave his unfortunate friend a compassionate look, and proceeded to dump the entire frigid contents on the head of the sleeper.

The sleeper sprang up with a gasp, his body shivering, his lungs laboring for breath as he panted for air. In the pale light of the lone candle he looked like he had seen a ghost--perhaps he had. "Mu...must you always do that?!"

The Minister of Summer shrugged, taking a seat in a nearby chair, "You know it's the only thing that'll wake you when you're that deep in your dreams."

The Minister of Spring's teeth were chattering as he threw his legs over the side of the bed, searching for his slippers that had hopefully escaped the dousing, "But you are the Minister of Summer! You could at least make sure it's not ice cold when you throw it on me!"

His friend's eyebrows raised a good inch at that. "I could, but cold seems to work better, and I was in a bit of a hurry." His eyes illuminated in the darkness, and a roaring fire appeared on the hearth next to him, "Come, sit."

Wrapping a dry blanket around himself, the Minister of Spring took a seat on the other side of the fireplace from his fellow minister and extended his hands to the fire. "Much obliged."

The Minister of Summer dipped his head in reply before leaning forward to look at his friend, his hands pyramided in front of his face, "Now. Tell me what you saw."

His friend shook his head, "I do not want to talk about it."

"As you have said every night these last few days, and I have been patient, but no longer. Tell me your dreams."

"These dreams are my own!"

The Minister of Summer gave a humorless laugh, "I have known you since the day you first walked into this tower. I know your dreams; these are not your dreams."

"But they cannot be real!"

The Minister of Summer struck the armrest of his chair with a fierce blow. "Blast it, man! Tell me what you dreamed or I will leave and take the fire with me--good luck getting warm without it! And I'll know if you try to light another one."

The Minister of Spring did not reply to his outburst but looked dejectedly into the dancing flames of the fire. When he parted his lips to speak, the Minister of Summer had to lean forward to catch the words on his lips, "I saw her. I have seen her every night since we came back home."

"Where is she? What is she doing? She no longer sleeps, does she?"

He shook his head, "No, no longer sleeping. But, this dream is different from most dreams I have if this dream be true. I saw us back at the Forbidden Mound. I saw the banishment of the dragon back to the cave, but then the dreams shifts and I am inside the mound. I watch as my plants penetrate the holes, filling up the place, turning it into a jungle, searching for the dragon. They find something, and when I go to look, I see the Minister of Winter being wrapped in vines and roots until she disappears. But she never cries out for help. I can see her face before it disappears behind the green. She's pale, so very pale, and I can see the first stages of water deprivation setting in. Each night it grows worse. I try, I try to stop the plants. I try to stop them, but they don't listen to me, and soon she is gone, wrapped tightly in their grasp. Then they turn on me. I fight and struggle, but they never obey, and they never let go. That is where you usually find me when you dump your cup of water on me."

"Tonight as well?"

He shook his head, "Tonight was slightly different. I was struggling with the vines, but tonight I saw a shape. It looked like it was made out of darkness, but it had bright, glowing eyes. It curled around her wrapped form and snarled at me as if I was the one to blame for this happening. As if he was protecting her...from me."

The Minister of Summer's eyebrows shot up. "Autumn?"

"I...I'm not sure. If it is, it is a greatly exaggerated version of him, at least three years worth of growth. And it doesn't look like him. There's something different about him if it is, but I cannot place it or put a name to it." Pushing up from his seat, he paced back and forth in front of the fire, his mind lost in thought. With an exasperated sigh, the Minister of Spring leaned an arm on the mantle and stared down into the fire, "I do not know what it means. I have never dreamed one of my true dreams that took place in the past as far as I can remember. And I know that I...that I am never in the best condition after Autumn's Fall for a good while. Add to that Winter's disappearance... I think my thoughts are messing with my mind enough to affect my dreams. Perhaps there is some truth to them. Perhaps there's not. I don't know what to glean from it as truth and what not to. I really thought I saw her that day at the Forbidden Mound."

"As you told me, but no one else saw her there or any evidence of her being there. We found the cave-in you mentioned, and the men are searching around the lake for any evidence of her. She can't be too far gone, but if it will put your mind at rest, I will order some of them to search the Forbidden Mound."

Plucking up a picture from the mantle, the Minister of Spring sat back down with a sigh as he rubbed the dust from the frame, "I think that would help."

Curious, the Minister of Summer nodded towards the picture, "Who's that?"

A small smile and a look that he had never seen before crossed his friend's face. "My wife. I haven't seen her in decades. She...she was...she was always there for me when I felt like this. I never had nightmares around her. Then one day she just left...and she never came back. I haven't seen her since."

"How come I never knew about her?!"

"We wanted to keep it private; she lived apart from the tower. I don't think she ever saw this place."

"How long were you together?"

"Five years."

"...I'm sorry."

Tears glistened in the Minister of Spring's eyes, but he wiped them hurriedly away, "Me too."

Though he felt a righteous fury rising up in his chest from his friend keeping such a secret from him for so long, the Minister of Summer knew that his friend was in no state of mind for prying. But they were going to have a very long talk the instant his emotional state was steady enough to handle it!

Rising from his seat, he placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder before turning to leave him alone for the night. Hopefully, he would gain some comfort in his wife's memory. But...that picture had seemed familiar somehow. Had he seen the woman before somewhere? Somewhere recently? He would have to ponder this in the morning.