Fax: A Short Tale



  Fax: A Short Tale

  By Kyle Schewe

  Copyright Kyle Schewe 2012

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ***

  Fax propped himself up on his elbows while the first light of day was barely visible in the horizon. The wind had died down a couple of hours ago, and he could now hear the scurrying of field mice in the tall grass. Looking around, he could see others also waking, easily moving into the motion of the day as if they had not spent the night sleeping on the hard ground. Looking over the Rikas Plains, he knew it stretched a long way in every direction. The plains were bordered by the Renthal Mountains on the south and west, the Resan Cities and Eide Sea to the north, and finally the bulk of the Noan kingdom to the east, where the great Insalis River flowed. It was those Noan cities that Fax wanted to visit and belong to. The family he travelled with, all forty-eight of them, were of the Rikas Plains. But he had been born amidst war, and remembered its pain. What most stayed with him since that time was the victory and power the soldiers of Noa had. Why should he stay among those who wanted nothing more than to wander and survive here? He wanted more. But he was young, only thirteen years old.

  “Stop daydreamingFax, and get over here!” It was his grandmother, who constantly got on his nerves. She never gave him a moment’s rest from dawn till dusk. He was old enough to handle the responsibilities; he just didn’t care for them.

  He pretended he didn’t understand what she said while she spoke their native language. He knew what she was saying, but to make sure she was understood, she spoke the new language of the land, Noas. He could not ignore her this time without getting into real trouble, so he hauled himself up, making an exaggerated show of it. Some of the younger children laughed, which only turned the stare of Grandmother on them, immediately causing them to stop and quiet down.

  Walking up to Grandmother, Fax tried to avoid making eye contact with her. He already stood a head taller than her, but he still felt small when she spoke to him. So he looked over her head at a group of men stretching, getting ready for a run he would now be missing out on.

  “Yes grandmother,” he said with a slight sigh.

  SLAP.

  Fax jerked back from the hot metal spoon with which Grandmother had struck his leg.

  “OW!”

  She was nastier than normal this morning. And of course she had to be using the metal Noan spoon they had bought. It was going to leave a mark, and the pain was not going away.

  “What are the Three Pillars of Terrano?” she queried him, now standing to face him with the spoon held ready again. He decided not to say or do something she didn’t like, just in case.

  “The sights, sounds, and smells that you can see, hear, and taste. The push,” and before he could start the next part, she hit him in the other leg. The spoon was not as hot this time, as she had not put it back in the pot yet. “OW, I—”

  “Which Pillar is that?” she said, while turning to the morning porridge and stirring it, gripping the spoon’s wooden handle.

  “The First Pillar, Gandmother.” He was going to wait before she spoke again, but just as she was pulling the spoon out of the bubbling pot, he realized with a sense of panic that he was supposed to continue to recite the next pillar.

  “The Second Pillar,” he said quickly, as she stared at him with spoon held in midair. “The push, pull, and touch of your muscle, bone, and skin.” This was the pillar Fax was most interested in. He loved the feel of running through the open plains as fast and as far as he could go. No other boy his age or three years his senior had beat him in more than a year. This was something he was proud of. Knowing how to recite useless tenants of the Terrano was something he didn’t see the value in.

  “The Third Pillar,” he continued. “The beat, thoughts, and stillness of our heart, mind, and spirit,” he finished, waiting to see what was next.

  Grandmother nodded. “Go to Lome now. He wishes to see if you want to follow his path.” Turning back to the pot, she said nothing more and ignored Fax.

  Now his day had gotten worse. Nobody was as meticulous and careful as Lome. He would do the same thing one hundred times, just to do it right if he had to. He was also the Teroth of their family. Lome had yet to teach anyone else his secrets, and now Fax was the next to be rejected.

  Taking his time to get to the other side of the small camp, everyone he walked past seemed to notice him today. Some were amused, as he was sure most of them had heard the conversation with Grandmother. Others eyed him like they would a too-small goat, as if they were assessing whether he were the right size to eat yet but finding him not yet mature enough. But there were some few that gave him solemn nods and pats on the back for encouragement.

  When Fax found Lome, he could see there were two small bowls arranged across from each other, with a spoon perfectly placed beside each one. Lome himself was seated squarely behind one of the bowls, which also put the old man’s back exactly to the rising sun. So Fax would have to stare into the sun while sitting across from him.

  “Sit and we can talk,” Lome spoke in Noas. The words were not unusual, but to start speaking in Noas first without any greetings in Rikase was not.

  So Fax sat, trying to square himself as Lome had. When Fax finally settled himself, Lome was frowning slightly and looking back over his shoulders at the sun. Lome moved over a fraction, then back again, and did this until he seemed content. Then he looked at Fax, and gestured for him to move over now.

  This was going to be frustrating if the whole morning was wasted on sitting in the right place to make Lome happy. Maybe he should just stay where he was and hope Lome just stopped caring.

  Looking up, Lome gestured again. So Fax moved over, and back again, and it took him much longer than it had Lome, until he seemed to be in just the right spot for the man.

  “But first, let us get our food from Grandmother.” Lome stood up, taking his bowl with him, and went over to the place where the line had formed and disappeared while they were sitting in the right spots.

  So Fax got up, and went and got what was left of the porridge. Burned bits floated in his bowl as he took it from Grandmother, the bowl barely warm from the rapidly cooling porridge. Grandmother said nothing to him, but went about cleaning the pot once he and Lome had been served.

  Sitting back down to eat, they went through the same process, and Fax was able to keep his frustration from showing. He was more resigned than anything. Everybody went through this. He saw some of the young adults watching and others pantomiming his failed attempts at the perfect sitting position. This almost made him laugh out loud, and helped him enjoy the ridiculousness of the situation.

  Once they were seated correctly to Lome’s satisfaction, they ate quickly and quietly, his porridge now completely cold. And only when they put down their bowls did Lome speak again.

  “What do you know of the Three Pillars?”

  “I know the Three Tenants. And other things,” Fax said vaguely. He did know other things, but he wasn’t sure he could say them correctly. He was sure the information was in his head; it was just that the information got jumbled together sometimes, and he couldn’t always connect the right pieces together.

  Lome brought out his kerf from its sheath. The special knife was engraved with the sigils of the Three Pillars of Terrano. Fax had seen him pull it out before, but there was a carefulness this time that he had not noticed before.

  Nobody else was looking now, and he could hear all the older family members ushering everyone away.

  What was he
going to see here?

  He tensed then without knowing why. Something was going to happen, he was sure. He could feel a wave of pressure crash into his head.

  Then, very delicately and with the smallest and most careful movements, Lome cut into the air between them. When the old man started his cut, Fax could see the turn of Lome’s wrist and the slight muscle tension in his forearm. Yet it was impossible not to be distracted by the sigils on the kerf glowing a dull blue light.

  Watching, Fax could see the slight shimmer in the air where he had cut, and...something else. He reached forwards, finding that the cut left two sides which could be pulled apart. So he gently peeled away just the tiniest bit of one of the edges. From his view, it should have looked like the sky, but instead it revealed something else beneath the folds. The smell of blood came to his nose then, and he felt his excitement rising. He wanted to see what it was, and he brought his other hand up to peel back the other side.

  “Stop!” Lome spoke so suddenly and loudly that Fax jumped, releasing the edges. “You can see.” Lome looked a little surprised and also a bit excited himself.

  “Now we will close the wound and talk about this.” And from Lome’s side he smoothed out the cut, and Fax watched as the edges touched and knit themselves back together. Fax was looking at the sky once again, amazed at what he had just seen.

  Lome leaned forward to look him up and down, his face expressionless.

  “Too young yet. Too young of spirit to be trusted. Go to Grandmother and tell her what you have seen. She will want to know. Then return to me, and I will tell you a story of Terrano you have never heard,” Lome said, settling back into a sitting position.

  Fax was about to move when Lome spoke again, though it seemed more an afterthought that he was not supposed to hear.

  “You will be called on later when you are ready.” There was some meaning in the last thing he said that Fax was sure he missed. “I look forward to that time. I am getting old.” And Fax looked at him, really looked at him. He was old. Lome’s movements were not as meticulous as he once thought, simply slow.

  He stood up and went to find Grandmother to tell her everything that happened. The smell of blood was still strong in his nose, but it was not repelling like that of a dead pronghorn. Rather it was intoxicating, and he desired to know more of what Lome had showed him and done.

  ***

  About the Author

  Kyle Schewe is an author and tutor who lives in Winnipeg, Canada.

  He received a Bachelor of Arts in Classics from the University of Winnipeg, a certificate in Applied Accounting from Red River College, and is currently completing the Certificate for Adult Education, also through Red River College. He tutors business to a diverse group of adult learners including international and immigrant students, and students with disabilities.

  Kyle has a keen sense of imagination, and has been an avid roleplayer for 20 years. He has applied that same imagination and passion to writing.

  Keep an eye out for upcoming short stories and novels set in the Kingdom of Noa.

  Connect with Me Online:

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/KyleSchewe