The Night of the Tides
The air was thick with the scent of fried fish and rum, mingling with the sea breeze as the town of San Isla celebrated its annual Tide Festival. Lanterns hung from palm trees, casting warm light over the sandy streets where people danced to the beat of drums. Laughter and chatter filled the night, drowning out the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore.
Javier watched the festivities from the shadows, his back pressed against the wooden railing of the pier. He had never been one for crowds, preferring the quiet solitude of his fishing boat, but tonight was different. There was a stranger in town, and with him, the rumors of treasure hidden beneath the old lighthouse. The stories had spread like wildfire, whispered in the market stalls and along the docks, capturing the town’s restless imagination.
He scanned the crowd, his gaze lingering on the man who had become the center of the town’s gossip—a tall figure dressed in black, with a face that seemed carved from stone. The stranger stood at the edge of the dancing circle, his eyes following the movements of the villagers, but his expression never changed.
Javier took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his own family’s history pressing down on him. His father had once been the keeper of the lighthouse before it was abandoned, and though he had never spoken much about it, there had always been a haunted look in his eyes whenever the tides came in, especially during the festival. A look that seemed to suggest there were secrets buried deeper than the shifting sands.
An Unexpected Encounter
As the music reached a fever pitch, the stranger turned suddenly, his gaze locking onto Javier’s. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then the stranger tipped his hat and disappeared into the shadows, heading toward the narrow path that led to the cliffs. Javier hesitated, the voice of his father echoing in his mind—a warning, spoken on nights when the wind howled against their small house by the sea: “The past always finds its way back with the tide.”
Curiosity and a sense of obligation pulled Javier from the safety of the festival lights. He followed the stranger, his footsteps crunching over the gravel path as the sounds of the celebration faded behind him. The air grew cooler as he approached the cliffs, the sea’s roar louder in the darkness.
When he reached the top, he found the stranger standing near the old lighthouse, its structure silhouetted against the moonlit sky. The man turned to face him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You’re Javier, aren’t you? The fisherman,” he said, his voice smooth and low, carrying just enough familiarity to set Javier’s nerves on edge. “You’ve been watching me all night.”
Javier squared his shoulders, forcing his voice to remain steady. “You’re new here. And new people don’t usually come to San Isla without a reason.”
The stranger’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He turned back toward the sea, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. “I came for the stories. The legends of treasure buried beneath the lighthouse. It’s quite a tale, isn’t it? And one that has a way of drawing in the curious.”
Javier’s chest tightened. He thought of the tales his father used to tell—the stories of a shipwreck off the coast, of gold and silver scattered across the seabed, hidden away by the tides. But he also remembered the warnings, the way his father’s voice had dropped to a whisper whenever he spoke of the night he had seen shadows moving on the water, shadows that didn’t belong to any boat or fisherman.
“Those are just stories,” Javier said, trying to sound dismissive, but his voice wavered. “Old wives’ tales meant to keep kids away from the cliffs.”
The stranger turned back to him, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Stories have a way of hiding the truth. And sometimes, they’re the only way to find it.”
Secrets Beneath the Waves
The stranger’s words lingered with Javier long after he returned to the festival. He tried to lose himself in the music, in the warmth of familiar faces, but his mind kept drifting back to the cliffs, to the questions that had gone unanswered. By the time the festival wound down and the villagers began to drift home, Javier found himself walking back toward the lighthouse, the darkness now feeling more like a challenge than a threat.
The moon was high by the time he reached the old stone structure, its beams weathered and crumbling. The waves crashed below, spraying saltwater against the rocks. Javier made his way down the narrow steps that led to the cave beneath the lighthouse, a place he had not visited since he was a child.
The cave’s entrance was half-submerged, hidden by the rise and fall of the tide. Javier waited for the water to recede before slipping inside, his lantern casting a flickering light over the wet stones. The air was damp and cold, carrying the faint smell of decay.
He reached the back of the cave, where an old iron door stood rusted and chained. His father had once told him that it led to an underground passage, but he had never dared to open it. Tonight, however, felt different.
As if something was pushing him forward, guiding his hand to the lock.
To his surprise, the chains slipped away easily, and the door creaked open with a groan that echoed through the cave. Javier hesitated, a sense of dread settling in his chest, but he pushed forward, stepping into the darkness beyond.
A Discovery and a Warning
Inside the passage, the air grew colder, the walls lined with old carvings that twisted and coiled like serpents. Javier ran his hand over the rough stone, feeling the grooves where time had worn the edges smooth. He shone his lantern down the corridor, revealing a chamber at the end, where the floor was covered in sand and shells, as if the sea itself had reached inside to reclaim it.
In the center of the chamber lay a chest, its wood swollen and cracked from the moisture. Javier knelt beside it, his breath fogging the air, and pried it open with a rusted crowbar he had found in the cave. Inside, he found gold coins and silver trinkets, wrapped in decaying cloth. But as he reached for one of the coins, something caught his eye—a bundle of old letters, their ink faded but still legible.
He picked up the letters, his hands shaking as he recognized the handwriting—his father’s, detailing a night long ago when he had stumbled upon the treasure while tending the lighthouse. But the letters spoke of something else, too—warnings about a shadow that had followed him home, a presence that had lingered in the darkness, whispering his name when the tides came in.
Javier’s hands trembled as he read the final lines, written in a hurried scrawl: “The tide knows. It knows what I’ve taken. It will come for me, as it will come for all who disturb the sea’s secrets. To my son, I am sorry...”
A sound behind him made Javier freeze—footsteps, too light to belong to any of the fishermen he knew. He turned sharply, raising the lantern, and saw the stranger standing at the entrance of the chamber, his smile gone, replaced by a look of grim satisfaction.
“You found it,” the stranger said softly, his voice carrying a strange echo in the chamber. “But some secrets were never meant to be uncovered.”
The Tide’s Reckoning
Before Javier could react, the stranger lunged, knocking the lantern from his hand. The flame sputtered out, plunging them into darkness. Javier fought back, but the man’s grip was like iron, forcing him to the ground. He felt the cold edge of a knife against his throat, the stranger’s breath hot against his ear.
“You should have stayed away, like your father tried to,” the stranger hissed. “But now, you’ll join him. One more shadow among the waves.”
Javier struggled, his fingers clawing at the sand, until his hand brushed against one of the coins from the chest. He threw it at the stranger’s face, catching him off guard, and managed to break free, scrambling to his feet.
He ran toward the entrance, his heart pounding as the sound of rushing water filled his ears. The tide was coming in, faster than it should have, the sea rising to claim the cave. He threw himself through the iron door just as the water surged forward, slamming it shut behind him. The last thing he heard before the cave filled with water was the stranger’s scream, cut short as the sea swallowed him whole.
Javier emerged from the cave, gasping for air as he stumbled onto the shore. The tide lapped at his feet, as if testing his resolve, but he clutched the bundle of letters to his chest, knowing that he had survived what his father could not. He looked out at the dark sea, the waves crashing against the rocks, and knew that some secrets were better left buried beneath the tides.
© 2024 A.M. Roberts. All rights reserved.