The Dream of Spring, Part 2

  • Baron


    When Talash Tabar-Nezhad returned to the oasis, the sun had rose and the sunlight obeisance had gone ahead without him to lead it. His brother found him in his tent soon after, a flash of relief briefly crossing his face that reminded Talash of himself. His brother was so very much like himself - his father, his mother, everyone had reminded them when they were little. Yet he was chief and he was not. And he had changed now in any case after that walk to the desert before the sun.

    “You overslept.” His brother declared more than he asked.

    Talash smiled, inviting his brother to share his pear-wine. The Manzur’s inheritance and leader’s right to the chief.

    “Do you remember our Manzur’s face?” Talash asked.

    His brother craned his neck to look behind him, where the Manzur’s skull was placed amongst Talash’s most treasured belongings.

    “I do” he answered.

    “His face was pale-bright.” Talash nodded. “Golden hair and sky-blue eyes. But none of us ever looked to him when he spoke. None of us could look for long when he didn’t”.

    His brother looked at him with wild bewilderment - the same eyes he had when the Manzur first came to his tribe. But he did not interrupt.

    “None of us have ever really seen his face, have we Javad? He was the sun in our darkness, like Asha against the dark.”

    Javad looked at him. A mixture of understanding and doubt clouded his eyes. He had not touched his wine.
    “You’ll be buried head first for this.”

    “As Manzur suffered when he first came upon us. As Asha suffers when he delivers light to the night.”

    Javad stared for a long time at his brother in silence. None of his words had moved him, and none, as Talash could see, had changed his mind from his sure death at the hands of his own kin.

    “You’ll be buried. And then I’ll lose you.” Javad finally spoke, emptying his cup of wine before he stood.

    “We have much to tell.” Javad said, waiting for his brother to stand with him.

    “We have so much more than that, Javad.” Talash smiled, standing as he left the tent with his brother, leaving two golden cups behind.

    Outside, the dawn had begun to rouse the shepherds to their flock, the children to play, the women to draw water from the well, and men to do what they must in the existence that had been afforded to them under the cycling light of the sun.