Legend of Alm -The Valor Saga Pt 1 - Falling Star

by Graham M. Irwin

  “The village is a bunch of jerks,” Anaxis said. “At least, to me. Sorry, but it’s true.”

  “What happened to your face?” his mother asked. She came closer to examine the black eye that was developing. “Did you get into another fight?”

  “I didn’t get into it, it got into me,” Anaxis answered. “Stupid Balta again.”

  “Did you get any good punches in?” his father asked.

  “No,” Anaxis answered.

  “Son, you’ve got to stick up for yourself.”

  “Why? Why should I prove myself to those idiots? Maybe they shouldn’t be starting fights, instead of maybe I should be finishing them. Anyone ever think of that? That instead of telling people they should defend themselves, that we tell people not to pick fights in the first place?”

  “Our strength is all we have out here in the desert,” said Anaxis’s father. “And we are social animals. Like it or not, you’ve got to prove yourself to people.”

  “I get the best marks in class. I can write and read better than anyone. Doesn’t that count for anything?” asked Anaxis.

  “Of course it does. And we’re proud of you for that,” said his mother, “But you know as well as we do that reading and writing won’t keep us alive during the dry seasons. We’ve got a very thin margin of survival we’re working with, all the time. Maybe in another place, in another time, all your dreaming would help, but right now, it’s not doing anyone any good. That’s why you’re picked on. They’re trying to help you, to prepare you, whether you know it or not.”

  “Please. Some help. Someone’s got to ‘dream,’ mother, as you put it, to make sure we’re not stuck out here in the desert living like pitegs for the rest of our existence,” Anaxis said. “Someone’s got to move us forward. Don’t they?”

  “You keep talking like that while we get your food and clothe you,” said his mother. “It’s so disappointing sometimes, when I see how well your sister and your brother do, to see you…”

  “Well, sorry I’m such a constant disappointment, Mom,” Anaxis said.

  “Don’t talk like that,” said his father. “You know we both care about you very much, and only want what’s best for you.”

  “Why does everyone think they know what’s best for me? You know, even though everyone treats me like crap, I only want what’s best for them, too. Can’t you see that? There’s more to life than hunting and eating. Any animal can do that. I’m trying to work on what’s more.”

  “Enough, Anaxis,” said his mother. “We’re all only animals. Clever animals. Nothing more. Nothing less. You keep pushing your inventions and research and we’ll have the Silver putting an end to us all.”

  Anaxis’s father cleared his throat loudly and gave his wife a stern look. “You can study and imagine all you want, son,” he said, turning back to Anaxis. “But you have to survive, too. That comes first. Because none of your dreaming will do you or anyone else any good if you’re dead.”

  “Yes, and what great fun living in fear and obscurity is. Okay, okay,” Anaxis sighed. “Whatever. I don’t want to have this conversation for the millionth time. But I’m not wrong. You’ll both see one day. One day soon.”

  “Alright, Anaxis. I’m going to the training circle to meet Illox and Caraxis,” said his mother. “I want you to come with me.”

  “But I was going to…”

  “Let me rephrase that: You’re coming with me. How’s that? Get your boots and your spear.”

  “Mom…”

  “That’s what they call me. Do it. Now.”

  Anaxis looked to his father for support, but found none.

  “Go with your mother,” he said. “It’s the best thing.”

  Anaxis huffed and spit the pit from his fruit into the fire. “Fine. I swear…” he grumbled.

  “I’m sure you do,” said his mother. “Go get your boots.”

  2

  The huge beasts the villagers called cannar made their yearly migration from the southern swamps to the grasslands in the north, passing through the Binq Desert, just outside Talx, on their way. The villagers in Talx depended on the animals’ meat and hides for much of their existence, and practiced all year to prepare for their arrival. Most of this practice took place in the training circle, an area just outside the village, near the Wavering Cliffs. Anaxis reluctantly followed after his mother to the circle, his head down and his mind elsewhere.

  “Heads up!” his brother, Caraxis, called when the two had reached the circle.

  Before Anaxis could lift his head, he was hit on the chest by a leather satchel full of small rocks.

  “Caraxis!” his mother scolded. “What’s the matter with you? Throwing things at your brother.”

  “Sorry,” Caraxis said, trying not to laugh.

  Illox ran behind Anaxis and scooped the bag up, then tossed it back to Caraxis.

  “You gotta look up when someone calls heads up, Anax,” Caraxis said.

  “You didn’t give me any time,” Anaxis said.

  “Sorry, little brother,” Caraxis said. “Here, I’m giving you plenty of warning this time. Catch!”

  Caraxis tossed the little leather sack of rocks again and Anaxis flailed to catch it, but missed. It hit him on the shoulder and fell in the dust.

  “Come on, Anaxis,” his mother said with a sigh, crossing to wipe the dirt off Anaxis’s shirt. “At least try to focus.”

  “Right, because focusing more would help,” Anaxis said. “How much more could I focus than completely and totally? I’d love to catch things. I don’t want to be hit with rocks. I’m just not good at catching.”

  His mother shook her head and tossed the sack over to Illox. “Then go over and practice spearing,” she said. “You’ve just got to practice, okay? I know you can get this. I believe in you.”

  Anaxis looked over to where a number of decoy cannar were being speared and saw there Balta and the other bullies from school.

  “I don’t want to spear,” he said to his mother in protest.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, you seem to be under the impression that you have a choice,” she said sarcastically. “Go.”

  “Great,” Anaxis muttered to himself as he started toward the bullies.

  “Hey, look who it is,” Balta said when he noticed. “What’re you doing here, runt?”

  “How am I a runt?” Anaxis asked. “I’m taller than all of you.”

  “You can be tall and still be a runt,” Balta said. “Your arms are the width of my fingers.”

  “We’re all impressed, Balta,” Anaxis said, rolling his eyes.

  “You really think you’re going to contribute to the Hunt?” Balta asked, leaning on his spear.

  “He’s going to get trampled,” another of the bullies snickered. “He’ll be comedic relief!”

  “Maybe I’ll contribute more than you’ve ever considered,” Anaxis said.

  “Oh yeah?” Balta huffed. “Go ahead. I want to see what you can do with a spear.”

  “What? What do you mean?” Anaxis asked.

  “Toss your spear,” Balta said. “I want to see how you do with it.”

  “I don’t mean like that,” Anaxis said.

  “No, no, tall guy, I want to see what you’ve got. Go ahead. Impress us,” said Balta.

  Anaxis lowered his head, then took in a deep breath and let it out. “I’m telling you, I’m not any good at this.”

  “Go on, Anax!” Caraxis called from across the circle. “Give it a throw!”

  Anaxis sighed and then slowly walked back to the throwing line. He lifted his spear up over his shoulder, aimed it as best he could, and let it fly. The spear struck the ground far in front of the cannar decoy, bounced, and rolled to a stop.

  Balta roared, along with the group behind him. “Wonderful!” he crowed. “Wow, you’re really going to help the village with a throw like that!”

  “He missed it by so far!” another of the bullies laughed.

  “Come on, Anaxis, give it another go,” urged h
is mother.

  “Yeah, Anax, don’t let them laugh at you,” called his sister.

  “I can’t do it, okay?” Anaxis protested. “There’s no use.”

  “That’s right, he’s useless,” Balta laughed. “At least he admits it!”

  “Oh shut up, you clod,” Anaxis’s mother scolded Balta. “Come on, son, you can do better than that, I’ve seen you.”

  “Mom, I can’t,” Anaxis protested.

  “Give it another try, Anaxis,” his mother insisted. “Come on.”

  Anaxis stomped over to his fallen spear, took it back to the throwing line, aimed, and hurled it again. He came nearer the decoy now, but not nearly enough. His spear hit the ground and flipped up and over the decoy, hitting another villager in the leg on the other side.

  “You’re not supposed to hit me, kid,” the man grumbled. He picked up the spear and tossed it back to Anaxis, who tried to grab it and missed.

  Balta was now crying he was laughing so hard. “Oh, please, please do it again! I haven’t laughed this hard in weeks!”

  “Why don’t you have a look in a reflecting plate, you’ll laugh your head off,” Caraxis said, picking up the fallen spear and crossing with it to his brother. “Watch, Anaxis,” he said, aiming for the decoy. “Follow through with your hand. Watch how I do it.”

  Caraxis flung the spear, which flew evenly over the sand and stuck firmly into the side of the decoy.

  “I know you can do it, what was the point of showing me that? Listen, I’ve watched, Caraxis. I try. I really do,” Anaxis said. “I completely understand how it’s supposed to work. It’s just, my arms won’t do what I tell them to do. I’m just not made for this sort of thing.”

  “Of course you are. We all are. You just don’t practice as much as you should,” Caraxis said.

  “Yeah, well, it’s hard to want to practice, when everyone laughs at you all the time,” Anaxis said.

  “I know,” said Caraxis. “We’ll give it some work at home, just you and me, how’s that?”

  “That’d be great, but Mom insists I come down here. It’s so humiliating.”

  “It’s only because she cares about you.”

  “If she cared about me, she wouldn’t make me come down here like this.”

  “Nah. You’re just seeing it wrong, brother. Come on, let’s give it another try.”

  “I promise you, Car, it’ll do nothing.”

  “No, practicing works. Trust me. It’s proven. Practicing at something makes you better. But you have to want to get better. Don’t count yourself out, okay?”

  “I guess I really just don’t care if I’m good at hunting,” Anaxis said. “If you want the truth.”

  “Well, you gotta eat,” Caraxis said. “And you gotta hunt to eat. So, come on. Let’s give it another try.”

  Anaxis sighed. “Alright,” he said. “Let me get the spear.”

  As he walked to retrieve the spear, scorned by his schoolmates with every step, he kept reminding himself that things were soon about to change.

  3

  Anaxis met Mills on the way to lessons the next day under a waking sky streaked with red and orange clouds.

  “Hey,” Mills said sleepily.

  “Mills,” Anaxis replied with a nod.

  “Brought you something,” said Mills. He held out a piece of vegetable bread, which Anaxis took and shoved into his mouth.

  “Thanks, I was starving,” Anaxis said through the food.

  The two walked along in groggy silence.

  “Mills,” Anaxis asked after a while, “I was thinking; how come your dad doesn’t make you go to the training circle?”

  “He doesn’t care about it, I guess,” Mills said after brief consideration. “He doesn’t care about anything, really. Sometimes I wish he did.”

  “He’s still pretty sad about your mom, huh?”

  “I guess so,” Mills said. “Even though he never talks about her. Anyways, I made the bread. How was it?”

  “Oh, good,” Anaxis answered. “Everything you make is always good. You’re a great cook. Or, is that baker? I think they’re different.”

  “I don’t know. It’s all working with food,” Mills said. “I like baking better, though. You usually get the same results every time. I take it you had to train last night?”

  “Yeah,” Anaxis said. “It was a disaster, as always. Made a complete fool of myself.”

  “Sorry, buddy. At least the Hunt will be over soon, and we can forget about it for another year.”

  “Well, I may hate the training, but I’m still excited for the Hunt,” Anaxis said. “I just can’t wait to show everyone my invention.”

  “I hope it works,” said Mills. “For your sake.”

  “You should hope it works for everyone’s sake. It would save a lot of lives and injuries if it did. Hey, let’s hurry up so we get there before everyone. I want to talk to Xala about my lens.”

  “Okay,” Mills said. “Race you?”

  Anaxis took off running. “Catch me if you can!”

  The two arrived out of breath at the schoolhouse where Xala Sy taught the children of Talx. Entering into the dark, hide-covered hut, they found Xala deep in a book. She was startled out of deep concentration when the two children tossed their bags onto their desks.

  “Who’s that?” Xala gasped. “Oh! Mills and Anaxis, the two of you need to announce yourselves. You scared me half to death.”

  “Sorry, Xala,” Anaxis said. “We didn’t mean to frighten you, I just wanted to come early to talk to you about my lens.”

  “Ah yes, your latest experiment. How’s it coming along?” the old woman asked as she set down her book and took off her reading glasses.

  “I think it’s just about ready to use,” Anaxis said. “I’d like to polish it a little better, though. The shearstone has done a pretty good job, but it’s not quite perfect yet. Not like your glasses. How’d you make them so smooth?”

  “I used a shalrit sponge, from the muck lake,” Xala said. “I can bring you some of the sponge tomorrow if you’d like.”

  “That would be perfect,” said Anaxis. He looked over to Xala’s desk to study the cover of the book his teacher had been reading. “What’s that one about?” he asked.

  “Stories From the Other Side,” Xala said. “It’s about the Gnirean.”

  “Oh, wild!” said Anaxis. “Is it any good?”

  “It’s wild, for sure, whether it’s true or not,” Xala said. “Fascinating stuff.”

  “What’s it say?” Mills asked. “Does it talk about how the Gnirean drink blood and everything?”

  “Actually, it gives a wholly different impression,” Xala said. “The book makes the audacious claim that the Gnirean are not a separate species from our own.”

  Anaxis shot a quick glance at the doorway to see if anyone else had arrived. “You’re liable to get in trouble talking like that in Talx, Xala.”

  “I know,” she said. “Believe me, I know. I wouldn’t speak thusly with anyone I didn’t trust. I trust the two of you.”

  “I think that makes them a lot scarier. If they’re human and they drink human blood,” said Mills.

  “The book says nothing about that rumored practice, either, and it seems to be quite comprehensive,” said Xala. “Perhaps it is only a rumor. I have no idea if what’s between the covers is true or not. But I know that, all my life, the stories told about the people to the east have always seemed like myths. And myths hold functions in any society. I’m now rather curious as to why the Gnirean have been so vilified throughout the history of our people.”

  “Isn’t it their alliance with the Silver? Where did you get that book, anyways?” Mills asked.

  “From a friend in Crit, who got it from another friend in Poltir,” answered Xala.

  “Hmmm… Why would everyone say such horrible things about the Gnirean, if they weren’t true?” asked Mills.

  “I’m only a little more than halfway through the book, but from what I’ve read, apparen
tly our peoples used to live in harmony, a long time ago. Something happened that ended that harmony, and contact between us. Some very mysterious stuff.”

  “I’ve heard the Gnirean live in a great, living city, in multi-storied houses they build with incredible machines,” said Mills. “Enchanted machines, powered by the toil of enslaved spirits.”

  “Yes, that is a common story told around campfires,” said Xala. “But it can’t be the truth, can it? Children, if I weren’t so old, I tell you, I’d strike out to the east myself, to try and find the mythical Gnirean city. To learn the truth.”

  “To do that, you’d have to cross the Stretch,” said Anaxis. “And that’s impossible. Or, at least, no one has ever done it.”

  “If anyone has, they never came back to tell the tale, that’s for sure,” said Xala. “But still. Maybe one of you two will make the journey some day?”

  “I wish,” said Anaxis. “But, no, I’m pretty sure we’ll both die out here in the desert. Like all our ancestors.”

  “Perhaps,” Xala said. “But our people won’t have to live like this forever. Thanks to children like you two, who’ll grow up into the leaders we need. We’ll reclaim our mastery of nature, the ways we knew in the oldest stories. Why, this very Hunt we have your ingenious lens to steer the cannar, don’t we, Anaxis?”

  “Yes, yes we do. I just hope it works,” Anaxis said. “Because I stink at hunting.”

  “So did I, when I was your age,” Xala said. “And look at me now!”

  “Right, but there can only be one teacher in the village,” Anaxis said. “And Mills is better with people, so that’ll be him. Either I create a new role for myself, or I’ll be the village loony. The lens needs to work. It has to.”

  “I’ll have you know I’m good friends with the village loony,” Xala said. “Mim and I have steep every afternoon. She’s a wonderful person.”

  “You’ll have steep with me when I’m the village loony, won’t you, Mills?” Anaxis asked his friend.

  “Of course I will,” said Mills. “Oh, crap. Here comes trouble.”

  Balta and two friends had entered the hut to shoot disparaging looks at Xala and her two best students.