Seasons
The small wooden pieces move swiftly across the board. Autumna and Reed have played countless games of checkers together, often spending hours every night curled around the board, huddled closely in a dim corner of Reed’s study, until the night slowly faded, and the morning light woke up and poured into the room. Neither one would notice the time slip away from them. A game or two, a drink or several, sprinkled in between words spoken softly, passionate discussions, and delicate moments shared.
Tonight, as Autumna moves her ivory pucks to their black patches on the board, she lets her hand brush gently across Reed’s, feeling the softness of his tanned skin against hers.
“Your move,” she whispers, her amber eyes looking particularly golden in the orange glow of the candlelight. She uses her index finger to tuck a piece of her short auburn hair behind her ear. There is a sweetness in her voice, but a sadness stains the words as she lets them linger in the air.
“You already know my next move,” Reed replies, flashing her a smile of perfect white teeth and causing a fluttering in her chest. In her human form, Autumna can be mistaken as an ordinary mortal, but as the God of the Seasons, she can always predict what comes next. “That’s why I can never win against you.”
Autumna smirks back, taking the last sip of her deep purple wine and placing the glass down next to the board. The faint clink sound the glass makes as it lands on the board reverberates through the study, drowning out the pounding of Reed’s heartbeat in his ears. He stands up and glides around the small marble table to meet Autumna. “Let’s take one more walk through the gardens tonight,” he says as he extends his hand out and waits for her to grab it.
The gardens are lit up by strands of paper lanterns in preparation for the Autumn Festival. The glow bounces off the warm colours of the trees that surround the couple as they walk in silence down a narrow gravel path. Scarlett coloured leaves fall lightly in front of their feet and crunch loudly under the weight of their footsteps.
“Are you looking forward to the Festival tomorrow?” Autumna asks, trying to lighten the somber mood that has fallen upon them tonight.
Reed looks down at his feet and lets out a long, tired, sigh. “Darling, as soon as the sun rises tomorrow, you will be gone. The Festival acts only as a reminder of what I’ve lost.”
Autumna lets a silence fall between them before turning towards Reed. The shadowy features on his masculine face look inconsolable.
“From the first day that I marked the Season of Growth with the sun, it has been another unforgettable hundred days spent with you.” Autumna says softly, her voice like a song in the darkness of the night.
“One hundred days is not enough.” Reed says, clasping her hand a little tighter as they approach the small pond at the edge of the gardens. The fish dance below them, sending small ripples across the quiet surface of the water.
The first hints of morning begin to show themselves in the sky. Autumna leans her head on Reed’s shoulder and closes her eyes. A Season of Death and a Season of Birth — two hundred and one days exactly — until they will see each other again.
The Festival of Autumn marks the last day before the start of the Season of Death. It is a day to harvest the crops from the one hundred days of sunshine during the Season of Growth, and celebrate the God of the Seasons by having feasts and rituals that honour her generosity during the year. For Reed, this the worst day of the year. Ever since meeting Autumna when she took her human form over five years ago, he has wanted to spend his life with her. But every year on this day, she returns to her own kind among the Gods, and leaves Reed among the humans to carry on without her. There have been some years where Autumna selfishly tried to extend her stay in human form, causing the seasons to shorten or lengthen, and wreaking havoc on the crops for the year. There needs to be a balance of the seasons — one hundred days in each of the three seasons in a year — in order for the earth and it’s people to thrive.
So Reed spends his time during the Festival of Autumn sulking, pouting, and wandering the streets as a broken man. The sweet aromas of warm pumpkin turnovers baking in the oven, or the blissful sounds of the string quartet playing in the streets, have no effect on his brooding mood. He participates in the games and rituals, and sits around the fire to exchange stories with the other townspeople, but secretly, his heart sits heavy in his chest. Every now and then he will flirt with the wide-eyed girls who bat their eyelashes at him from under their bonnets, and curtsey at him in their cherry coloured dresses, hopeful that one will capture his soul the way only Autumna knew how. And at the end of each Festival of Autumn, as Reed’s heavy head crashes onto his pillow in his warm bed, his mind returns to Autumna, wishing desperately that he would turn around and see her sleeping soundly under the sheets.
At the start of the Season of Birth, as the days grow warmer and longer, Reed sits by the side of his father’s bed as he struggles to draw his last few breaths. Reed watches as the King of the realm, and the man that he most admires in the world, closes his eyes and drifts off into his final sleep. Tomorrow, Reed will be crowned as the new King.
A hand delicately touches Reed’s shoulder from behind him, and he tips his head towards it so his ear can rest on it. “Thank you for being here,” Reed whispers to the woman standing at his back, “My father can rest easily knowing his son has an honourable Queen at his side.” She bends down and kisses Reed’s cheek. He can feel her long black hair brush against his skin.
It rained every single day during that Season. Autumna’s tears fell into the soil, soaking the ground completely, and pounded loudly on the rocks as it flooded every crevice it could find. She mourns the new union between Reed and his Queen, and can’t stop the rain from pouring down.
Reed stands on the balcony of his room on his wedding day, staring up at the bruised sky filled with wrathful grey clouds and lets the rain seep deeply into his suit. “I know what you’re doing,” he says to the sky. “I know you’re upset with me. But we both knew this day would come. We could not live in our season of bliss forever. My duty to my family still remains.” He pauses, hoping his words will temporarily calm the storm. Autumna replies with a thunderous cry and a jolt of lightning on the horizon. Reed cowers back into his room. He must let the storm pass on its own.
Nearly one hundred days later, the Season of Growth began, and Autumna let the sun shine brightly for the first time. She would spend the next one hundred days walking the earth with the other humans and enjoying the warm weather. Occasionally she would sit in the gardens that her and Reed spent many nights walking together, watching the fish in the pond do their elaborate dances. She would look into the windows of the study where her and Reed once played endless games of checkers over purple wine. Once in a while she would catch a glimpse of a woman with long dark hair and wonder if she held Reed’s heart the way Autumna once did. She realizes that their time together was a season of life that she would always remember.