Fax: A Short Tale

Fax: A Short Tale

By Kyle Schewe

Copyright Kyle Schewe 2012

*** 

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.