Evenfall

It wasn’t the loud chattering of birds, nor the whistling of the early morning wind that woke Isabelle from her deep slumber. It was the persistent, irritating scraping of claws on wood that drew her from the land of dreams and nightmares.

She attempted to fall back asleep – she’d had a late night out hunting. But the canine outside refused to allow her the blissful abandon. She groaned and rolled over, staring at the door from her place upon the top bunk that was tucked cozily into the back of her mother’s caravan.

The scratching persisted. Her mother would have her head if Isa didn’t stop the ruining of her precious caravan. She sighed and rolled forward. She quickly learnt that she had greatly misjudged how big her bed was, as she seemed to have run out of it.

The cold, hard wood of the floor quickly woke her completely as she fell off her bed. If everybody else failed, she was grateful to note that the floor would always be there to catch her if she fell.

The scratching seemed to pause for a moment. Isabelle lay still for a few seconds, hoping he would leave. He didn’t.

The scratching resumed, more insistent this time. Isa groaned loudly and slapped the ground as she pushed herself up off the floor.

“I’m coming!” She yelled. The canine on the other side of the door whined. “Yea, yea, I know I’m late.” She said, running her hand through her hair. She lumbered over to the door, her long white night dress catching on the side of one of her mother’s many nick-knacks that lay sprawled around the caravan.

She hissed as it ripped, exposing her leg. She tore the rest of it off, so that it now hung just above her knees instead of just above her toes. The chilly air nipped at her now-exposed skin. Another whine rang through the door. She hadn’t been awake for more than ten minutes, and she could already see that today would not be good to her.

Angrily, she stomped over to the door and threw it open. The grey wolf that stood on the stairs of the caravan retreated a few steps and hunkered down, laying its head between its paws.

“What, Nao?” She snapped, placing her hands on her hips. The wolf whined and placed its paws over its eyes. “Oh, so now you’re modest as a man?” She crossed her arms. The wolf didn’t move. “Afraid of a little skin?”

“Fine,” she said, stepping back and slamming the door. A moment later she opened it again, the olive-green dress she now wore covering even her toes. It had long sleeves, so the cold air didn’t bother her anymore.

Naois was in the same position as before. He perked up now, as he heard the door open again. Isa was holding a bucket.

“Come on,” she said. “we have to feed Monte.”

Nao tilted his head to the side. The sunlight danced across his silver coat, giving it an ethereal glow.

“Andthen we can feed you,” she said. Nao wagged his tail, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

The wolf had been around for as long as she could remember, she was sure even before she had been born. As she got older, it irked her that her and her mother only called the canine ‘Wolf’, instead of properly naming him. She soon decided on the name Naois, meaning ‘mythical warrior’. She found it fitting, as the wolf was ruler – and, consequently, warrior – of the forest. His silver coat was the aspect that factored in the ‘mythical’ part.

He trotted dutifully beside her as she fetched another hay net from the underside of the caravan and hung it up in one of the trees that bordered the clearing she and her mother now found themselves in.

Isa stuck two fingers into her mouth, and let loose a sharp whistle that pierced the morning air. A large palomino trotted out of the forest and nuzzled Isa’s arms. She giggled and petted the horse’s long nose. The palomino snorted and sniffed her.

“Hello, Monte,” Isa said, plucking a few pieces of hay from the net and offering them to the horse. Soon Monte was eating out of the net on her own.

“Nao,” Isa said, looking down to meet the attentive eyes of the silver wolf. “Water.”

She watched as he began to sniff the air, and then ran off. He paused for a moment, checking that she was following, before continuing on. She followed him all the way to a pond.

It was beautiful, with lush grass surrounding it and crystal-clear water filling it. She smiled as she watched small sprites dance across the surface. Nao sat obediently by her side, and attentively waited as she watched.

She scratched his ears. “Thank you,” she smiled and strode over to the water’s edge to begin filling the bucket. She turned to see Nao run past her, nose held high. She chuckled quietly. He probably sniffed out a rabbit burrow. He was quite impatient when it came to his breakfast.

She finished with the water and began lugging it back to the caravan. She had grown up in several different forests, and so she was quite talented in tracking and remembering paths. It was easy to find the caravan again.

She placed the bucket next to the caravan and ventured inside to find another container. Soon she had split the water between a pot and the bucket, leaving the bucket for Monte to drink out of.

Nao trotted back into the clearing, head held high. Isa spied two rabbits clutched in his jaws; dead. He padded over to her and dropped on at her feet, running off to eat the other one. Isa quickly had a fire going, the rabbit cooking and the water boiling.

She sat and waited.

It was not uncommon for her mother to disappear in the early hours of the morning and return in the late afternoons. Isa didn’t know where she went, and she never asked. Her mother never offered any answers.

When the rabbit was just about done, a lithe figure loped into the clearing. Isa stood with a smile on her face as she walked to greet her mother.

“Good morning, Madre,” She said, hugging her mother.

“Morning, Isa.” Her mother replied. Her tone was clipped and impatient -- tired, nothing like the mother she knew.

“Something the matter?” Isa asked, frowning. She studied her mother’s face. It was paler than normal; the kind of pale only old ghosts can color. Her mother gave her a tight smile, shaking her head.

“Nothing, dear.” She said, striding past towards the caravan. “I just wouldn’t like to stay here very long.”

“Any particular reason?” Isa prodded, following after her mother.

She didn’t respond. Isa watched as she stared disdainfully at Nao, chomping on his catch. Her mother had never held the canine in any high regard, but Isa surmised she let him stay because he made her daughter happy. Her mother shook her head and climbed into the caravan. Isa studied the side of the yellow wagon.

There were a few words painted on the side, the bright red paint chipped and peeling. It barely held onto the mustard yellow that covered the rest of the caravan.

The words read, ‘Maria’s Traveling Trinkets and Tricks’.

Isa’s mother – Maria – had dabbled in some magic and incantations in her youth. She had enchanted objects that everybody commonly used to be helpful, for example she would have enchanted your house keys so that you would never lose them. Isa never really did find out why she had stopped. Maria had never offered any explanation, and Isa had learned long ago that prying never got anyone anywhere if the information wasn’t voluntarily shared.

Isa began walking back towards the caravan to see if she could get any more out of her mother about her hesitation to stay in that area. Just as she was about to open the door to speak to her, Maria strode out with a thick coat wrapped around her shoulders.

“Where are you going?” Isa asked, frowning. Her mother sighed and gave her an agitated look.

“Out,” she said simply, breezing by. Isa quickly pulled her coat out of the caravan and trotted after her mother.

“Well then I’m coming with.” Isa said, falling into step with her mother as she pulled her coat on. All Maria did was give her a mildly irritated look. She wasn’t very happy that Isa was insisting on coming with her. She sighed.

“There is a town not too far from here. I want to get some more fabric.” She explained. “Your dresses are getting a bit tight,” Maria dragged her eyes up and down Isa’s body. “It will soon become very inappropriate.”

Isa scoffed and shook her head.

Nao perked up as he gathered what was going on. He began to trot over to follow Isa and her mother when Isa turned and stopped him. She knelt down to face him at eye level – which wasn’t very far, considering his head almost came up to her chest when she stood at full height. It really was a wonder she was never frightened of him. Perhaps it was because he had never given her any reason to be frightened.

“No, Nao.” Isa smiled as he tilted his head. “Towns’ people don’t generally enjoy the company of wolves. They are frightened of them; and often they kill them because of it. It would be safer for you to stay here and wait until we return.” She scratched his ears as he let out a small whine.

Isa stood up and ran to catch up with her mother – who hadn’t paused to wait for Isa while she stopped Nao.

Nao sat quietly and watched them walk away in silence, ears drooping. Isa was baffled at how he seemed to be able to understand her perfectly, almost exactly like a human. She shook her head and caught up to her mother.

She and her mother walked for a small while, exchanging no words. Eventually Isa became irritated and decided to break the tense silence.

“Alright, what’s the matter?” She said, facing her mother. Isa could see the battle between telling her and brushing her off raging in her mother’s eyes. The former must have won, as Isa saw the resolve in her mother’s façade splinter. Maria sighed.

“This was the town I grew up in,” she explained quietly. Isa didn’t comment – she had never heard any stories regarding her mother’s childhood before. She wasn’t about to interrupt this chance at a peak into the part of her mother’s character that she had never seen before. Isa waited for her to continue.

“This was where I grew up, and this was where I met your father.” Isa watched Maria’s eyes turn glossy. She was lost in a memory, and Isa knew from experience that there was no getting her back until she chose to return. They spent the rest of the walk in silence.

Isabelle brightened once she began to hear the hustle and bustle that accompanied every town she had ever visited. Maria and her had been travelling Isa’s whole life, and although she had seen many towns and cities – some more than once – she had never seen this one. She was excited to see where her mother had grown up, and what her life had been like.

Soon the first buildings came into view. Some were cobble and stone, some were wood, and some were a mixture of both – from what Isa could see. They were packed tightly together, with barely any room left between them. It was almost as if the outer buildings had been built as a substitute for a wall. Isa was very interested to see what it held inside it.

She let her mother pass in front of her so that they could both enter the town. The passage her mother had chosen was only wide enough for them to walk single-file, there was not nearly enough room for them to walk beside each other.

Isa couldn’t shake the feeling that Maria was delaying the inevitable, as if she didn’t want Isa to see the town she had called home so many years ago.

The two buildings they were passing between seemed very long. It took a while to emerge from the darkness of the tunnel. When they did, though, Isa was surprised at what she found.

The deeper in they traveled, the more the space between the buildings grew. They also became more lavishly decorated and designed, as if the center of the town was reserved only for those who could afford the ‘well-off’ lifestyle that came with a large income.

The town within the ‘wall’ was spaciously set out, with a wide-open courtyard in the very center. In the middle of the courtyard stood a rustic-looking building. Isa supposed it could be a town hall. She watched in awe as hundreds of people fussed about the square, some standing and playing instruments, some tugging wagons, some carrying baskets of goods.

She frowned as she saw that the ironically-named square was actually a circle. The buildings bordering it were separated periodically by a tall bell tower. She counted twelve in total, each with a designated number painted on them. She glanced towards the center of the ‘square’, at the town hall. It seemed that there was an unnaturally tall chimney sticking out the very center of the building’s roof. She followed the chimney’s shadow and saw that it was almost exactly on the tower that had the number ‘1’ painted on it. She figured it was a massive sundial, so that the town’s people constantly knew the time. She pondered the thought as she and her mother continued through the square.

Some of the town’s people turned to politely greet the two newcomers, but others seemed to watch them with an almost predatory stare. It was as if they were somehow suspicious of the two of them, although Isa couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. She shrugged it off, however, and concentrated instead on taking in her surroundings.

Her mother didn’t seem keen to spend too long amongst those milling about the square. She hurried quickly and quietly, almost as if she wanted to be invisible. Although Isa tried not to, she couldn’t help but notice the whispers that started to follow them. She could never make out full sentences, but she did catch a few repeated words every now and again.

Her mother’s name was thrown into the mix, as well as a few new names that she had never heard before. The names ‘Jakob’ and ‘Margaret’ followed her and her mother, peppering the conversations around them. Although, the name Isa heard the most was ‘Nikolas’.

She didn’t know a Nikolas, nor did she understand why his name was continuously spat at her mother as she scurried towards the market stalls on the far side of the square. Isa frowned, but followed without question.

Her mother found the stall she was looking for quickly. While she spoke hurriedly with the shop keeper, Isa glanced around. The sun was high in the sky now, casting a blinding light down onto the town hall. The roof of the building seemed to be covered in a reflective material, as the sunlight jumped off of it in all directions and banished all the shadows in the square. The chimney’s shadow had completely withdrawn in on itself now. Suddenly the sound of bells ringing in unison echoed across the square.

Isa glanced up and began to smile, as she saw that in each of the bell towers stood a person, and now that it was noon, all the bells rang in unison. She counted the rings – twelve. She was right. The center of the town was designed to be a massive sundial.

She wondered if it had been planned from the very beginning, or if it was a recent addition to the town.

“Isa!” Her mother called from behind her. Isa turned to find that her mother was juggling three rolls of material. “I have what I needed. Let’s get back now.”

Isa didn’t want to leave just yet. She knew the town was quite big, and she wanted to explore it. None of the other towns and cities they had passed through had had a sundial of this size, and she was interested to see what else was hidden between the old buildings.

“Madre,” Isa said, making her mother pause her scurry to turn to her. “May I stay a bit longer? I want to explore a bit. I know the way back to the wagon, I’ll be fine.” Isa’s hopes fell when she saw the hesitation on her mother’s face. She brightened, though, when her mother agreed.

“Alright,” Maria said, sighing. “But don’t stay too long. This forest gets dangerous after dark”

Isa beamed and threw her arms around her mother. “Thank you, Madre!” She said, clutching her mother hard. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

Her mother gave her a tight smile as she released her, and then started walking back the way they’d come.

Isa looked around excitedly, beaming at the prospect of a new place to explore. With a smile etched onto her face, she began her escapade.