Day Twelve-
Briar

He moved across the sand, the sound of the waves calling to him as it always did. The first rays of the sun made the water glisten as dawn settled in. He was usually up before the sun, finding his way to the shore. Ashtine sometimes joined him, but he had left her and the twins in the Wind Court last night, planning to return to them after his meetings in the Water Court concluded later today. What he wasn’t expecting was to find Ashtine already by the water, nor was he expecting Sawyer to be with her. He was certain Nakoa was here as well, likely with the nursemaid. He’d felt them all cross the wards.

 

His wife was barefoot, the cool surf rolling over her toes and dampening the bottom of her heavy gown. She hadn’t even changed for the climate difference, which meant she’d been a hurry to get here. 

 

She held Sawyer in her arms, the child’s arms wrapped around her mother’s neck and her head resting on her chest. The rising sun made their silver hair shine, and Sawyer’s eyes were closed, the steady rise and fall o her chest telling Briar she was fast asleep. 

 

He came to a stop beside her, but before he could speak, Ashtine said, “Nakoa slumbers inside. I left him in the nursery.”

 

“I assumed so,” Briar answered. “Although I do question why you did not rouse me the moment you arrived.”

 

Her lips pursed, and Briar reached to take their daughter, relieving Ashtine of her weight. Sawyer sighed softly, nestling against him without fuss. Her long silver hair concealed her face now. 

 

“Are the winds becoming unrelenting, my dear?” Briar asked when Ashtine didn’t speak. But she had wrapped her arms tightly around herself, despite the humidity that hung in the air.

 

“Not for me,” she finally said, her usual lilt strained as she looked pointedly at the sleeping child.

 

His brow furrowed. “She is not even five years.”

 

Fae, even those with traces of Avonleyan blood, didn’t come into their powers until around ten years. Some a year or two earlier, some later, but never this early.

 

When Ashtine remained silent again, he asked, “Did your gifts manifest this early?”

 

She shook her head. “The winds found me young, around eight years, but not at her age. But they… We’ve always known they would be hunted. They will be powerful. Too powerful.”

 

“And we have family that will give their lives for them,” Briar countered, his hold tightening around Sawyer.

 

“And when there are none left to stand between them and their fate?”

 

“Ashtine, tell me what the winds have whispered.”

 

“The gods play games, and the Fates wait to strike,” she murmured, gaze fixed on the unending sea.

 

“Ashtine,” he said, her name a sharp command that pulled her from her trance. 

 

Sky blue eyes slid to him as she turned to face him. “We’ve always known,” she said. “Even with a High Queen to guard our realm, there are still snakes in the grass and cunning foxes waiting in wings.”

 

There was a desperation there he hadn’t heard in a long time. Not since she was struggling to manage the winds and their nonsensical whisperings. He stepped forward, pulling her into his side, careful not to jostle Sawyer.

Ashtine reached up, running her fingers down the child’s hair. “They will be hunted for this power, Briar,” she said again. “I do not wish to hide her away like I was, but tonight… She does not understand what is happening. She is too young. She screams of phantoms and spirits.”

 

“It will not be like your childhood, my dear,” he said, pressing a kiss to her top of her head. “You did not have someone to guide you. Sawyer will have you.”

 

Ashtine nodded once, but he knew she was struggling to believe that. Knew that past insecurities were creeping up and that she didn’t want any of that for their children. They didn’t keep them hidden per se, but they kept them out of the public eye a lot. They received marriage proposals for both of the twins regularly from those in the Courts attempting to increase social standings, and Ashtine wasn’t wrong. They were the product of two of the strongest bloodlines in Halaya, but they’d already agreed neither child would be forced into a marriage. Not after they’d had to keep their own relationship a secret for years.

 

“Worrying about it now steals joy from the moment,” he said softly, releasing his hold to tilt her face up to his.

 

“Delaying preparation for what is to come makes us fools,” she countered. 

 

“We aren’t delaying anything,” he argued. “Many are researching. Juliette can—”

 

“An Oracle is useless here, Briar. You know this truth. She sees to many futures, and they are all ever-changing.”

 

“And what is worrying accomplishing?”

 

Ashtine scowled, her gaze darting away, but he still held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

 

“What can we do today? In this moment?” he pushed.

 

Her stare returned, brow furrowing. “I do not understand.”

 

“Worrying about it now steals joy from the moment, so what is one thing we can do right now to prepare? So it does not feel as though we are being complacent?”

 

“I don’t know, Briar,” she finally answered, her voice soft and a touch hopeless.

 

“You are already doing it, my dear,” he said gently. “You saw Sawyer struggling, and you brought her here. To a place where you find peace, and clearly she does too.”

 

“She fell asleep within minutes of standing on the shore,” Ashtine said.

 

“She may hear the winds, but the waves still call to her too,” he replied. “You know we will do everything we must to protect them, but we must take it day-by-day, Ashtine.”

 

She sighed, moving into his side once more just as an excited cry carried down the beach. They both turned to find Nakoa running as fast as his little legs could carry him, the nursemaid behind him.

 

“I apologize,” she said loud enough to carry over the sounds of the beach. “He insisted on finding his mother and father.”

 

“No need to apologize, Dara,” Briar replied with a reassuring smile. He preferred the twins were with them whenever possible anyway.

 

Ashtine was already crouching down to catch their son in her arms as he cried, “A water horse, Papa! Please!”

 

Ashtine huffed a laugh as she rose with Nakoa in her arms this time. “You started this, my heart,” she chided lightly.

 

He smiled wider, his heart full despite the heavy conversation of the morning. “That I did, my dear,” he replied as Sawyer stirred against him. He lifted a hand, drawing up water from the sea and crafting it into a smaller version of a spirit animal he still missed dearly. Nakoa giggled in delight, further rousing his sister. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled sleepily still resting against his chest. Briar reached to brush the hair from her face as he added, “And I don’t regret it one bit.”

 

©️Melissa K. Roehrich 2025