Pieces: Book One, The Rending

by VerSal SaVant

  “This is the best tale about the mythical human’s I’ve ever heard. It almost makes me believe there really are such bio-creatures,” Keyshi thought briefly, not wanting to miss a single word.

  "By now just about everyone within a block radius had gathered around to see what was going on. Most of the female humans were making comments like, 'Well, she should have known better than to go around parading in such a flimsy skirt in this kind of weather. She must be a southerner.' Most of the male humans just stood about all goggle-eyed with silly expressions on their faces. As for me, I was quite pleased with myself, for I had delivered my message quite emphatically: one must show proper respect for the cold winds of winter!”

  Keyshi could sense a rush of pride flush through the old northerner which seemed to give it a sudden boost of much needed energy.

  "Eventually, one of the males retrieved a sharp shiny object from his own clothing and zip, zip he slit those green leggings up one side and down the other and the female was free to stand on her own two feet, at last. The cold dormant air turned her bare white limbs nearly as red as the blush on her embarrassed and angry face. Then several humans pointed to the pole where the flimsy, flowered covering waved mockingly in the frigid air. The female human looked to where they were pointing and for the first time since the torment began, her voice fell momentarily silent.”

  “A male in the gathering suggested someone should lend her their thick covering. However, all the other humans, both male and female, just cast their eyes away from the freezing female while pulling their own, warm, thick garments even tighter about their necks. Just then an auto, pulled up to the curb and . . . what?” Tonc halted momentarily, noticing for the first time, Keyshi’s dazed countenance. “Don’t know what an auto is, huh? Hm, it’s a contraption with wheels that humans use to get around because their natural extremities are totally inadequate for any real speed or distance.”

  Old Tonc didn’t wait to see if this explanation enlightened the young summer breeze. “Out jumped the male she had given something to earlier at the door. He looked at her with a most amazed expression while holding out a ring of shiny metal objects with one hand. The shivering female didn't hesitate a moment. She grabbed the ring of objects and hopped into the auto, then let out a scream. Apparently, her exposed bottom had not escaped the nip of the frost.”

  “‘Rrrrrr! Rrrrrr!’ She tried to get the auto’s engine running again, but it repeatedly stalled. By now she was more upset than ever. Humans can become so crazed and unpredictable when they get really upset. ‘Varoom!’ the engine finally roared as billows of white air puffed out the rear end. ‘Varoom!' went the engine again as the carriage wheels spun on the icy street until they found traction, and immediately the auto sped off toward a place where the streets intersect - a place where many, many humans were still racing back and forth from one tall building to another. Then it happened!"

  Keyshi felt the old storytelling winter wind shiver, falling into a deep silence as it barely crept along the ground. Up to this point Keyshi had felt most gleeful. It was a delightful story from the perspective of a prank playing breeze, but Keyshi had a strange feeling that its joy was suddenly somehow inappropriate. Never before had it seen anything overcome with such gloom as that which now fell like a shroud upon its companion. If Keyshi would have known it could cry, it surely would have done so, right then and there.

  Keyshi moved even closer to Old Tonc and whispered, "What happened?”

  Old Tonc released a long slow, painful groan. Even for a winter wind, some memories are most difficult to replay. (Huff, puff, huff, puff) The storyteller struggled to speak. Keyshi knew that much of the old winter wind’s struggle was not all physical. Whatever Old Tonc was trying to confess, the memory of it must have been devastating.

  "What happened?” Keyshi asked again, unable to subdue its aroused curiosity. After several more huffs and puffs, Old Tonc collected itself well enough to speak.

  "This isn't easy for me, little breeze. I'll tell you, I have half a mind not to say another word."

  Keyshi shuddered with disappointment. "I knew it! I just knew I would never hear the end of this story now that I'm hanging on every puff. Oh, why did I waste all this time with this old windsack. I could have been playing real pranks of my own. I could have been....”

  No matter what the life entity, the youth of its species maintain high levels of anticipation. Unfortunately, one of these expectations is ultimate disappointment. It was no different for Keyshi.

  "Now, now don't go flying off the handle. I'm going to tell you the rest of the stor, if you'll just let me do it my way, in my good time. I haven't told you this much of my confession to up and quit just when I get to the heart of it,” Old Tonc reassured the fretting youth.

  In its mind, however, Old Tonc was thinking, "Oh why! Oh why, did Fate play such a rotten trick on me that I should be obliged to impart my most tragic confession to one so young. I had hoped that through knowledge of my tragic experience, some other mighty wind, like myself, would do good in this world where I have brought tragedy. What can this little breeze accomplish even with this wisdom? Oh, oh, oh, that I should face tragedy even in my last breaths! What good can ever come of this?"

  Old Tonc could feel the warmth of Keyshi's air mingling with its own. "This reckless youth even now steals the last moments of my life, but what have I left, but to finish my confession and leave the rest to Fate?” (Huff, huff) "Alright, then, where was I?"

  "The female was in the auto, speeding toward a crossroad filled with many, many humans racing from one tall, building to the next," Keyshi's words burst forth with excitement and anticipation.

  "Ah, so you are paying attention,” thought old Tonc who began again to end the story. "It all happened so fast I would have missed it if I had blinked - and yet I see every detail in my mind’s eye just as if it all had taken place in slow motion. The auto that the female had gotten into sped away from the curb and, like you said, was heading straight for a crossroad crowded with other humans. Well, I don't know what was going on in that female’s mind as she raced down the street. It was as if she didn't even see them. Perhaps her eyes were full of tears from the pain and embarrassment I had caused her. I don't know. It wasn’t until she was just a few yards from the crossroads that she tried to stop. Her rear wheels locked causing the auto to spin around and around as it slid into the crowd. Oh, it was horrible."

  Keyshi could feel Tonc shudder, as drops of water streamed through old Tonc's tail wind.

  “Human screams rose to the tops of the tallest buildings, as bodies flew this way and that. Though many humans tried to run as the auto spun further into the crowd, most slipped on the frozen ground and were eventually shattered by its deadly mass. The streets became a bright red with human life fluid, as many lay scattered, lifeless on the ground, while others screamed and groaned in their agony and pain. More than one human raised its fist toward me in anger. Oh, oh, oh, it was horrible, and it was all my fault - all my fault."

  "But how could you have known that would happen!” Keyshi said. It wasn’t a question, but an attempt at consolation.

  "It doesn't matter. Oh, don't you see, it just doesn't matter. I did what I did because of my own foolish pride. I'm not a hurricane. I can't take another’s life oblivious to the agony I’ve caused. There are no excuses. There are no ‘buts’ or ‘what ifs’ for me. I did what I did for the reasons I did it. I’ve had to live with what I did. Now I have to die with it. I - I just didn't want to do that until I passed on what I have learned from my tragic experience - but let me go on with my story."

  “There’s more?” Keyshi gasped, but Old Tonc just ignored it.

  "When the auto finally came to a stop. I swooped down to the female’s auto, but there was no one in it. Frantically I looked about. Then I saw her, the female upon whom I had played my greatest torment. She was lying in a gutter, her body twisted in a most grotesque contortion. Her life fluid trickled from her body and tainted the t
iny snow flakes that covered her. I went to her and saw her forsaken eyes staring at me as if to say, ‘Why, why did you do this to me?’ About that time other humans came rushing up to her. One of them had retrieved her flimsy, flowered swatch of cloth and gently placed it over her twisted, bare legs. I tried to help her, but found I only added to her misery. Hovering above this human tragedy, I could sense the intensity of their collective human sorrow mingled with the breath of my essence as their curses and prayers rose high into the air. It was then that I truly knew there was nothing I could do to help this poor female or any of the other injured humans."

  "I was so ashamed and upset. I didn't have the desire nor the will to do any more mischief. In the height of my life I had dealt myself the ‘coup de grace,’ the final blow. Fleeing from the city, I gradually worked my way over the snowy western, mountain peaks where I met up with some extremely cold, northern blowers. I stormed about with them for awhile - a winter wind is a winter wind, after all, and must do what it was conceived to do. Besides, there were no humans in the high ranges, so I wasn't constantly reminded of what had taken place in the city."

  "Of course, winter winds are an egotistical, proud bunch, and we’re known worldwide for our custom of boasting excessively about our greatest exploits and mischievous feats. So as more and more winter winds arrived from the northern cities to spend their summer in the mountain tops, I couldn’t bear hearing all their tales of torment. Just the mention of playing a meanie on a human sent me into a paroxysm. Although I, too, boasted of my own many exciting capers, I could never bring myself to reveal this terrible tale. I wanted to warn the others to be careful, but I felt that their perceptions wouldn’t have seen beyond the remarkably executed torment itself. They would have made me a hero, for sure, bestowing upon me great honors and inducting me into the Winter Winds Hall of Fame, but they would have never understood my anguish and sorrow over the result of that torment.”

  “Usually a winter wind just does its tomfoolery and dashes off never to see the resultant hardships to the bio-creatures left in its wake. But, as you’ve heard, I broke with tradition and stayed to see the terror and the trauma I caused. No I was no hero to be honored. There was no glory in my antics."

  Young Keyshi couldn’t believe what it was hearing. Although it had never run across a winter wind before, their reputations as blowhards and braggarts was widely acclaimed and earnestly revered. Tonc fit the description to a point, but beyond that point the old winter wind seemed to be something else. It seemed to, well - to care, to have feelings about humans.

  "So early one morning," Tonc continued, "I snuck down the desert side of the range and headed toward the warmer flat lands. I was determined to end my misery by ending my life. That is how it is that I came upon you, and I'm glad that I did for I needed to ease my mind by making a confession. But I'll be honest with you little breeze, I would rather be telling it to somewind that could make a difference, but there isn’t enough of me left, physically or spiritually, to survive a return trip to the snowy peaks where the other winter winds are gathering.”

  (Huff, puff, huff, puff, sigh) Old Tonc slowly drew near to the gradual slope of a small plateau and came to a gentle, almost motionless, rest.

  “Now that you’ve heard my story you must promise me to be gentle with any humans you may come across on your travels. You must bring healing to those I have harmed. You must give life where I have taken it. You must forfeit of yourself, so that humans might gain. You must promise me these things before I die. Promise me!"

  "But - but ,” Keyshi stammered. Its mind was in a bog.

  "I know, I know. I don't know how you, an insignificant flip of a breeze can ever hope to keep such a monumental promise, but you are all that destiny has given me. So, please let me diminish in peace - though it is certain to be a mighty fitful peace at best. So promise me now and we will leave the outcome of this folly up to the great COE, the great Center Of Everything. (Huff, huff, puff) Promise me?"

  "I, I promise,” Keyshi stammered in an unsure voice, but it was enough for old Tonc, who sighed a deep sigh which signaled a relief of all the hurt and tension Keyshi had sensed earlier.

  "Thank you, little breeze, and good speed.”

  "Good Speed, Traumatizer of Northern Cities."

  Old Tonc gave a grin of pride. Then the sound of a great hush filled the desert air and Keyshi drifted aimlessly, alone as the rays of the noonday sun burned through its essence and baked the earth below.

  Chapter 6

  Long before Keyshi blew into town, Wudrick Pulpitt returned to the well with the proper buckets and had finally made his way to the front of the water ration line, having started at its very rear by choice and a reluctance for confrontation. Standing at last before the wellkeeper of the west, he once again felt rather foolish. For his arms were extremely weary as they hung painfully at his sides clutching a bucket handle with each hand, yet finding he didn’t have the strength left to lift them up to the wellkeeper. He needn’t have held them the entire time, but this had not been his day when it came to ration buckets and he certainly wasn’t going to let these out of his grip.

  Always the gentle giant, Bourg bent down and relieved him of his burdens, then quickly filled the buckets with the cool water he had just drawn from the well. As he finished pouring the last few ounces, he felt his body strain under the stress of the day's events. Never had he felt so tired, so lost. Neither male spoke, as each was distracted, pondering the source of their own fatigue. Besides when it came to words both would have agreed, enough had been said at the well for one day?

  Bourg hung the well bucket on its peg and looked eastward. Loden had already finished and had retired to his hut. "Think about all that’s been said here today, my friend,” Loden told him just before leaving. Bourg didn't respond. He couldn’t. He was angry, hurt, confused, but above all, he just plain couldn't think. He didn’t even want to.

  The sun had just sunk beneath the rolling hills and darkness would soon fill the valley. Already he could see the flicker of candles through the open windows of his neighbors as he ambled home. Swinging open the hut door, he stumbled on the threshold, losing his balance.

  Teetering forward, he grabbed hold of the eating room counter and steadied himself momentarily. Then, taking a deep breath, he sank to his knees. It was as if the energy of life had been drained from his body. All his life he had stood strong against whatever obstacle he had to face - heat, illness, hard work - but those obstacles were so insignificant compared to the dilemma in which he now found himself.

  Even the hardest obstacle he’d ever had to face - the loss of his friend, Talon - seemed relatively mild compared to the current events which were tearing in two the very fabric of his beloved Nuttinnew.

  Bourg knew of no god, still, his thoughts and emotions broke forth in the form reminiscent of a prayer. "Oh, surely this is all but a bad dream. If not, then take those cursed thoughts of treason out of Loden’s head. Or must I lose another friend? Why? What is my crime? Have I hurt so many, that I must suffer so? Don’t I always try to do good to others? Don’t I faithfully fulfill my responsibilities as Wellkeeper of the West? Didn't I keep my promise to Talon and raise his only child as my own? Fate, why are you doing this to me - to us? Blast you! Why?” he cursed angrily, then sighed deeply. His head fell to his chest, as one dejected in the encroaching awareness that life as one knows it may soon no longer exist - and perhaps, in reality, it never had.

  The hot, dry Nuttinnewian air burned Bourg’s lungs like a furnace, smelting his acrimonious anger into a refined helplessness and his abounding strength into abject hopelessness. Still kneeling in the dark silence of the eating room, he cocked his head from side to side as if he half expected to hear some ethereal voice answer all his questions, but there was no voice. Even the voice in his head had fallen silent.

  Slowly, he rose to his feet and walked to the doorway of Tyter's room. In the glow of the moonbeams dancing through the open window, he could see Tyte
r’s sleek physique stretched out on the cot. Under normal circumstances, he would have gone in to check the strange burn on Tyter's buttock and make sure he was alright. However, tonight Bourg was not himself, but a person lost between the enfeebling environs of puffed up pride and self pity.

  After pushing the door to nearly closed, he lumbered off to his sleeping room. Then, without removing his dusty, soiled pullover, he flopped down on his cot, where he wallowed in worry until he collapsed into a deep, but fitful, sleep.

  By its very nature a historical record teaches us very little about actual events. If there are any lessons to be learned in remembering the past, it isn’t in the bits and pieces which can be lost, altered, or forgotten, but rather in the irrefutable dynamic that no act is without its consequence. As Fate would have it, Bourg’s lapse of conscientiousness would prove to be a most lamentable one.

  Much later that evening, Tyter’s room was filled with a rush of warmth, as Keyshi, recuperating from its clash with the Center House belfry, aimlessly drifted through the open window. Lost in its reminiscence of Old Tonc, it had no awareness of how it had come to be in a sleeping room of the western hut nearest the well. However, since it was there, it decided to have a look around.

  Circling about the small enclosure, it found nothing of interest, save the young human male, sprawled out on a cot. Mildly curious, Keyshi moved closer to the young human and was surprised by how hot and clammy his skin was. Now Keyshi was no expert on humans, but he was certain something was wrong - very wrong - with this one. For he was lying in a pool of salty liquid flowing profusely from the pores of his skin. His breath was so shallow Keyshi could barely hear it above the gentle rush of its own being. It was as if...?