The Fronds in Tond (and other stories)

  Flash Fiction I Ultra-short stories from my book, "Reflections". Each story is accompanied (in the book) by an abstract picture. The pictures relate to the stories aesthetically but do not illustrate them. Purple in Blue        On a partly cloudy day with sunlight forming nearly purple streamers in the sky, a man sits on a park bench eating a sandwich. He can hear someone nearby practicing a saxophone, playing a blues song, and he briefly wonders if such music would have been called “yellows” or “purples” if its original mood had been different.           A second man passes by, walking his dog. The two men nod to each other, a noncommittal greeting among strangers, and the second continues walking. Unknown to the first, the second is a synesthete who perceives the sax tones in shades of lavender and mauve .   The Red-Orange Invasion        “There is something odd about that world,” said Red, “It’s all cle...

Tond, Book One: The Sons of Tlaen Ras-Erkéltis Chapter 2 A Small Adventure Ílda no klénnas ke súrann arn íldawal’ nel syélnas toká. “Sometimes the exact details of a story depend on the teller.” Fyorian poverb      In southern Rohándal, in the place called Xóa Éyuhand (“Wind-Sound Oasis”), there had lived an ahíinor loremaster named Tlaen Ras-Erkéltis. He is the one who is credited with re-discovering the mechana for making the Fiery Eye, which looked like an ordinary flame (though suspended in a cubical shape knee-high off the ground) but showed events that were happening far away.      It is also said that the Fiery Eye’s mechana may have been discovered by Tlaen’s friend Erlanni Ras-Tarinlein, or they may have discovered it together. It is also said, however, that Tlaen made sure that it became famous as “his” discovery and he presented it to the Master of Light at the council of ahíinor loremasters by himself. Whether Erlanni objected will ...

A sci-fi story from my collection of short fiction called "Fronds". Requiem for the Watcher      A bloated red sun filled half of the sky and scorched the landscape. The ground was covered with charred black dust and with rusted, corroded metal blocks and cords. The fetid air was still and hot and filled with an acrid, searing mist that further blotted the sunlight. The temperature would have killed a man, though it was not hot enough to melt the omnipresent iron and steel.      The Watcher awoke. It gathered its consciousness. It surveyed its surroundings. It watched, it listened, it smelled and sensed, but detected no other presence except that forever background of light and pain — dimmer now — that it faintly remembered having hated.      From somewhere inside its metallic body, a signal issued. An array of concepts, detectable by others of the Watcher’s kind as sounds or pictures.      The Watcher folded up, its meta...

Tond, Book One: The Sons of Tlaen Ras-Erkéltis Chapter 1 The Lore-Room at Night Erkándas káa ílda sellarn íi lin ínyas ke vóráalis mi rényas. Even the most heroic tale begins with a single, humble sentence. Fyorian poverb Xóa Éyuhand in South Rohándal, eighth month, Fyorian year 607      A small flickering light appeared in the dark room. Rolan Ras-Erkéltis, age eleven, sat up on his mattress, looked around him. It was Arnul, holding a candle.      “...Wha...what time is it? Why are you up so late?” Rolan asked.      “It’s a little after sundown. I stayed up. I didn’t drink my némurath tea tonight. Easier to stay awake. Come on, I have something to show you.”      “After sundown?”      “Inside of course. Ever wondered what Keldar does in that room downstairs? Look; I hid this.” From under the folds of his night-robe he produced a gold-colored key.      Rolan laughed. “Silly. Keld...