FURLITIAN TALES Vol One

In these novella length short tales from THE FURLTES OF ARORIEL world, discover details about Commander Geupetus’ childhood, and his fight with Cerus and feud with Clan Enilura. Find out the origin of Geupetus’ pet Monius Terpus, and of his importance to the three children who rescued him.  Read more about the childhood separation and subsequent bonding of Elara and Tesuris. In the last story, learn how the Felakoon Fantia saves Nera from the despair of her bondbreak. 

A fine complimentary volume to the main series, these tales reveal details omitted from the main story lines. 

EXCERPT from RITE OF PASSAGE:

Hearing commotion out in the Common Room of his family’s home, Geupetus turned away from his monitor screen. Excitement jump-started his heart, and he shook himself. His long white, gold-spotted fur settled back into place, but rippled down his spine from his jubilation. He pulled off the finger sensors and the goggles, then shut down his video game.

“Today is my day!” He laughed at the light lavender walls of his bedroom, and his high tenor reverberated back to him.

“Geupetus? Where are you?” The low alto voice of his best friend echoed up the hall. “Come on out! You have to be happy!”

“Telluris!” Geupetus leaped from his chair, his saurian frame shaking with anticipation. He ran from his room, and met the older boy in the middle of the corridor. Telluris’ long deep-gold fur gleamed with recent grooming. His cobalt eyes sparkled. Geupetus grinned at his friend. “Of course, I’m happy! I’m eight today!”

“I am,” Telluris corrected his speech, pointing a furry white talon-tipped finger at him. “Blast, if I said that my mother would make me write it fifty times by hand, on paper, for using baby talk.”

“Fifty times? On real paper? Chafk!” Geupetus clamped his hand over his mouth and gazed up the hall, hoping nobody heard him swear. “Ooops, I meant krufk.” 

Telluris laughed, waving his right hand. His long solid-gold fur shone, with nary a grubby stain or spot. Even the white markings on his left hand shimmered immaculate. Geupetus hoped his own fur looked as grand

“For that, Mother would brush my teeth and tongue with bathing shampoo! Yeeeuck!”

“Mine, too. They mean the same thing, but the grown-ups hate it if we say the bad one. What is the difference between saying Sorsa krufk or Sorsa chafk?” Geupetus said, dropping his voice. “It is all still just piles of turds.”

“Yes, but you should not swear,” Telluris argued. “My mother does not even like when I say krufk.”

“Mine either,” Geupetus agreed, and swished his thick tail. “I hope my party is as grand as yours was. I am so glad we are only eight days apart. Only two quinths!”

“Me, too.” Telluris bumped him with his shoulder. “I’m glad both Clan ships are in! That means everyone will attend! Come on!”

“I am glad both Clan ships are in.” Geupetus corrected his friend’s speech before laughing. Telluris merely grinned.

The two boys pelted up the hall, their talons clicking on slate floor. They burst into the large Common Room. Geupetus stopped short, amazed at the number of people attending his big Birthday bash. The rest of the Clan from up the street, home from a mission, mingled with Telluris’ family, filling the Common Room with spirited talk. Most of the adults wore rank bands around their right biceps which bore ship colors of the two Clan spacecraft. To Geupetus’ delight, he spotted his paternal grandparents, Murkurus and Geupria, and members of their household.

“Your father’s clan is here!” Telluris voiced his awe. “They traveled all the way here to celebrate your birthday!”

“It is excellent!” Geupetus exhaled. “They rarely leave that farm! Aunt Iria is here with my little cousin Sira!” 

“She is just a toddler,” Telluris exclaimed. “Like little Thuria.”

“Yes, but. . . . ” He lowered his voice. “Aunt Iria is pregnant! Sira is going to have a little brother or sister. I wish I had one.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Telluris laughed. “Tellara says I am a pain in her rear all the time.”

“Still, I bet it is nice having a sibling.”

People spilled out of the large light green Common Room into the Dining Area, shuffling from the dark green carpet onto the grey, violet, and white floor tiling. The large light fixture above the massive marble stone table glittered gold and the crystal decor refracted a beam of sunlight pouring in the front window, throwing rainbows all over the pale violet walls. Geupetus inhaled sharply, gazing at the play of rainbows shimmering on the walls, thrilled they danced in celebration, too. Beyond the Dining Area, sunlight illuminated the cheery pale-yellow kitchen, gleaming off the stainless-steel appliances.

“Yes!” Geupetus exclaimed. “This will be a grand party!” 

Telluris yanked on his arm fur.

“Come on!” 

“Hey, Geupetus!” Telluris’ sister suddenly embraced him. “Big boy that you are, it is about time you turned eight!”

“Tellara!” Geupetus shoved at the older girl, his talons combing through her long white and light red-gold patched fur. She giggled, then cuffed him, her violet-blue eyes dancing with mirth. 

“Krufk, you are as big as I, and I am thirteen.”

“I am not that big,” Geupetus snapped, annoyance rising above his joy.

“Look,” Tellara grabbed Telluris. “My brother is almost my size, and you are bigger than he is.”

“She is right,” another boy said, as he joined the group. Geupetus eyed his thirteen-year-old cousin, whose parti-color gold and white coat also shone with impeccable grooming. 

“Thetis . . .” he growled in warning. He hated when others teased him about his size.

“Be proud,” Thetis exclaimed, his blue eyes full of envy. “I wish I had been that big at your age. You might make the Shartball team your first year at school!”

Geupetus inhaled deeply, but said nothing, battling inner anger. He concentrated on one large rainbow above the tableware cabinet.

“We are lucky.” Telluris shook him. “Why does it bother you?”

“Everyone thinks I am older than I am,” Geupetus said morosely.

“So?”

“I do not even have proper dishware yet.”

“You will today,” Telluris patted his shoulder “Come on, be happy.”

Geupetus gazed into his best friend’s sparkling cobalt eyes, unable to stay upset. He glanced at the cabinet again, noting the empty spot on the lowest shelf, waiting for his very own adult ware. He felt a jolt of anticipation.

“You are right. This is my day!”

The boys scampered into the Common Room, where the family engulfed him. Strong arms hauled him up, so his toe talon tips barely brushed the dark green carpet.

“Great blasted blackholes,” his Grandfather Callistus’ voice boomed, jovial and full of pride. “Young One, you will be larger than I someday!”

“Really?” Geupetus grunted, eyeing the Ship Commander’s Medallion slapping Callistus’ broad chest. Geupetus glanced at the red band circling Callistus’ right biceps. Triple stripes of Ship Command decorated the band, which shimmered in the bright light. The Ship Commander set him down, and Geupetus stared up at his massive white-furred grandfather. Callistus’ copper spotting gleamed as he thumped Geupetus’ back, his light blue eyes sparkling with pride.

“You are eighty octlos, right?”

“Yes,” Geupetus smiled, feeling sudden pride. “But . . . I will be bigger than you?”

“Sure. At your age, I was only seventy-five octlos. I am two-hundred-four octlos now.” Callistus smiled at both boys. “But one day, you will be bigger, and with those fiery purple eyes, you will be intimidating, and, maybe, wear one of these.” Callistus lifted his medallion, which flashed in the light. The Interplanetary Vessel Pilliar gleamed in full glory on the medallion. Geupetus breathed in awe.

“Someday, wow, yes! I would love to command a ship!”

Another pair of arms embraced him, breaking his thoughts of grandeur.

“Grandson! Congratulations on your birthday!” Geupetus met the lavender eyes of his grandmother, Thoria. He impulsively wrapped his arms around her neck, burying his face in her short deep-gold fur.

“Thank you!” he answered, and backed out of the embrace.

“Good, Geupetus,” his mother’s voice whispered in his ear. “Good manners.”

He turned, and faced his mother, whose dark gold fur with stark white markings shone in the bright lighting. Her violet-blue eyes twinkled. Beside her, his Aunt Suria, Ship Second of the Clan’s other ship, the Sauri, stood, her long white fur ruffling as she moved. Her red band bore the double stripes of Ship Second Commander rank in Sauricolors of silver, yellow, and red. Geupetus glanced around the room at the multitude of rank bands glittering in many colors. His mother’s gleamed Subcommander orange, while his father’s shone Commander’s red, but both bore the Sauri colors, and his father’s, like Callistus’, bore the triple stripes of Ship Command. Geupetus swelled with pride in his Clan. Someday, he thought, I will wear such a band.

“A handful, Isea?” Suria’s violet eyes danced with mirth, creasing the light gold spot over her right eye. Geupetus grinned at her, and at his Uncle Tharus, who stood beside her, his green-gold eyes twinkling, his short red-gold gleaming glossy, rich with color.

“Sometimes, Sister, sometimes.” Isea tousled Geupetus’ head fur. Suria gave Geupetus a hug.

“If you do well in school, Nephew, you can someday serve aboard one of the Clan ships, if that is what you want.”

“I do!” Geupetus grinned. “I really do!”

“Ah, words I have been waiting to hear,” his father’s jovial voice rang with pride. Geupetus faced his father. He stood at attention, feet set, tail stiff, arms at his side with elbows, knees, and hocks bent, his body tilted up forty-five degrees from parallel to the floor. He gazed at the Ship Commander Medallion which rested on Orios’ white-furred chest. The Sauri glittered in full glorious color on black obsidian set in gold.

“Father, I really do want to be aboard your ship.”

“I am happy to hear that, Son.” Orios clasped Geupetus’ wrist in an adult gesture. “Work hard in school, and perhaps you will get there.”

“Happy Birthday, Greatson!” Two voices called out in unison. Geupetus faced his Greatparents, Iseus and Caltra. His mother’s grandparents embraced him, squeezing him between their long-furred bodies.

“Greatmother! Greatfather!” Geupetus gave each a strong hug. Caltra winked a dark turquoise eye, his gold-spotted face crinkled in a smile. Iseus’s yellow-green eyes sparkled from a solid copper face marked only by a thin blaze of white which ran up her nose in forehead. 

“We are proud of you, Geupetus.”

“Thank you!” Geupetus responded. “I am so happy to be eight years old now!”

“Geupetus!” The cheerful call rang in the noisy room, and Geupetus spun on his talons to face the speaker. His paternal Grandparents hurried to him. His Greatparents withdrew with nods, disappearing into the kitchen.

“Grandmother!” Geupetus ran to Geupria, allowing her to embrace him hard. Another pair of muscular arms went around him, and he looked up into the golden green-flecked eyes of his Grandfather. “I am so happy you came to my party!”

“As are we, Grandson!” Geupria squeezed him. “My brother Iroseos and his family are keeping the farm running.”

Someone suddenly grabbed his hock hair, and he looked down to see Sira tugging on his leg. She giggled, swaying on her feet, her light blue eyes wide. 

“Hello Sira!” Geupetus released his grandparents and bent over, gently hugged the toddler.

“I see she found you before I did,” a familiar voice chuckled. Geupetus looked up to meet a pair of bright teal eyes.

“Greetings Aunt Iria!” He reached up to embrace her. “When is Sira’s little brother or sister coming?”

“In about a year,” Iria hugged him to her gravid belly. “Happy Birthday, my nephew!”

“Thank you! I am so glad you are here, too”

“Food is almost ready!” Two people shouted in unison from the Dining area. Geupetus recognized the voices of his greatparents. Uh oh, he thought, knowing all too well by his stays at his greatparents’ house just how they handled kitchen duties.

“Oh, chafk! My kitchen!” Orios groaned, and hurried off. His voice echoed off the ceiling, loud and clear to all. “Father, oh, chafk! You and Mother cook like wild ancient Furlites! What a mess! Blast it to the blackhole supreme! Why not have a campfire in the middle of the floor?!”

Geupetus broke up with laughter. Telluris laughed with him.

“Your father is such a picky-neat.”

“I know.” Geupetus giggled. “When I have to stay at my greatparents, it is fun. They make a game of cleaning up their messes. Then we have treats afterward, and we all play games.”

“All right, everyone, to the table!” Isea called out, interrupting the boys’ conversation. Geupetus ran to his seat. The table gleamed and sparkled with everyone’s personal tableware in a variety of colors and styles. A large box sat on the table, at Geupetus’ place, replacing his boring plain white babyware. He inhaled deeply and stifled the urge to squeal like an infant. He walked to the table and took his seat, tail twitching as he stifled the urge to fidget like a toddler. Telluris sat beside him. 

“I hope your new ’ware is as nice as mine,” he whispered. Geupetus grinned and glanced at Telluris’ set. The rich, clear shades of cobalt blue and violet glittered in iridescent splendor from the plates and bowls. The glass and goblet shimmered transparent deep cobalt blue.

“Wow!” Geupetus breathed. “Yours is as great as I remember it!”

“Attention, everyone,” Orios’ voice quieted the Dining area. “This is a day to celebrate! My son turns eight, and has earned his adult tableware. He starts school this upcoming term.”

Cheering, congratulations, and well-wishing ran up and down the table. Wrapped gifts passed down the table, piling behind his seat. 

“All right, Son,” Orios said, his emerald green eyes sparkling. “Open up that box!”

“Yes, Sir!” Geupetus stood, then tore the metallic purple and gold foil wrapping. He fumbled with the box flaps, then grabbed the large dinner plate first. He pulled it into the bright light. The iridescent purples glittered, shot here and there by sprays of deep magenta. His jaw hung. Such beautiful gorgeous color! He placed the plates and bowls carefully in their proper spots. He pulled out the glassware: a tall beverage glass, a small juice glass, and a stemmed water goblet. He gaped at the transparent shades of purple that swirled through the glass-acrylic alloy. Light refracted through the glassware in pinpoint stars and streaks of color.

“Oh, Father, Mother,” Geupetus uttered breathlessly. “These are so excellent! ”

“Do not forget the utensils,” Isea chuckled.

Geupetus reached in and pulled out the tines, ladles, and knives. The smooth metal alloy gleamed, reflecting every detail of the room, and melded smoothly into the acrylic-glass alloy handles that matched his plates. He placed them out carefully, and stared at the entire set. He heaved for air, feeling like his face might split from his beaming smile.

“I almost hate to dirty them,” he mumbled. Muffled guffaws and titters rounded the large table.

“One more thing,” Isea said. “Do not forget your school ware!”

Geupetus looked back in the box, and spied a small metallic case in the box which shimmered in swirls of purple. He pulled it out, then opened the latch to reveal a matching set of smaller ‘ware which sported attached lids, and matching utensils.

“This is a great set!!” Geupetus grinned. “Extra bowls, too.”

“To match your appetite,” Orios guffawed, giving Geupetus’ head fur a tousle. “Well, Son,” Orios returned his grin. “You are first to be served this morning.”

Geupetus tore his gaze from his new prizes, set down his schoolware case, and glanced up and down the laden table. Every conceivable breakfast food lured him, from Dokit hash, Guanis patties, steaming fresh grain cereal, sizzling Sorsa strips, and delectable organ meats, to even a bowl of rare Swikin eggs. The food covered nearly every square octa of the smooth glossy surface of the stone table, which shimmered in swirls of dark grey, magenta, violets, pinks, and white.

“Can I have a bit of each?” he asked breathlessly.

“May I.” Isea corrected his speech before nodding. “Whatever you want.”

Wow!” he chortled, and held out each piece of his new ’ware, allowing his father to fill them. Juice gurgled, filling his small glass, and water splashed into his goblet. He twirled his new tines, admiring them before spearing a Dokit patty. 

“This is sooo excellent!” Telluris said, and thumped his shoulder before dropping his voice. “Remember, wait ’til everyone has their food.”

“Until,” Geupetus corrected his best friend with a cuff to Telluris’ back, and laughed. He held his tine still, and waited. Talking and laughing, the guests filled their plates. Orios held up his water goblet, silencing the happy chatter.

“To my son, Geupetus! May he grow and flourish, to become as successful as his parents and make his Clan proud!”

Cheering reverberated off the walls as Geupetus sat and grinned. Embarrassment and pride warred within him.

“Dig in, everyone.” Orios drank from his goblet.

“This smells so good!” Geupetus raised his tines, spearing a piece of meat, and ate the tasty morsel.

“Agreed,” Telluris mumbled around a chunk of Guanis steak. Geupetus shoveled the food into his mouth, enjoying the variety of textures and tastes, delighting in the gleam and glitter of his adult tableware. His baby days fled into the recesses of his mind as he babbled with Telluris, and took teasing from Telluris’ older sister and his own cousin Thetis. Someone tugged his elbow hair, and, startled, he jerked his head around. His five-year-old cousin gazing up at him, violet-blue eyes sparkling with awe. A quick glance across the table showed half-eaten food on the child’s white babyware.

“Geupetus, wow, your ‘ware’s sooo pretty!”

“‘Ware is,” Geupetus corrected sternly, but before he uttered another word, the preschooler reached up and grabbed Geupetus’ small ladle. 

“Osus!” Geupetus recognized the shout of his Uncle Elarus, but his temper flared, blotting out the rest of his uncle’s reprimand. 

“Don’t touch my stuff, Osus! Ever!” Geupetus snarled, baring all eight fangs. He snatched the ladle from the younger child, his talons raking through the little boy’s short fur on the back of the hand. Blood welled up, staining the white fur crimson. Gasps echoed around the table. Geupetus growled.

“Look what you made me do.”

Osus stared a long moment before bursting into tears and running to his mother. Geupetus glanced over at his Aunt Tia, and saw shock in his aunt’s light spring-green eyes. His greatparents scowled, and Geupetus felt his heart jump to his throat. Greatmother Caltra’s bright yellow-green eyes flashed, while Greatfather Iseus’ dark teal eyes gleamed, with their disapproval. The glower in Callistus’ normally jovial light blue gaze and Thoria’s pale purple eyes hurt, but the shock and disappointment in Geupria’s and Murkurus’ eyes stung like a whip. His Uncle Elarus’ violet eyes glittered with anger, but before Geupetus spoke one word of apology, a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder hard. Talons dug into his fur, pinching his skin.

“Have you lost your blasted mind?” Orios’ voice rumbled into his ears. Geupetus faced his father, gaping at the outrage blazing Orios’ eyes. Rarely did his sire’s emerald orbs show anything but good-natured humor. A deep scowl furrowed the pale gold spot over Orios’ left eye. Tears blurred Geupetus’ vision immediately as anger thundered in Orios’ voice. “Osus is only five! I thought you had better manners than this. And,” Orios’ voice dropped into a stern growl, “it is DO NOT, not DON’T, is that clear?”

“Yes, S-s-sir, I-I am sorry.” Geupetus sobbed, as another hand grabbed his other arm.

“It is not your father to whom you must apologize.” Isea’s voice rang sharply in his ears. Geupetus spun his head to face his mother. Her violet eyes mirrored his Uncle Elarus’ eyes, and in that moment, he saw the strong Clan resemblance in both faces. He inhaled a sob as Isea pushed him around the table.

“I-I am s-s-s-orry, I really am, Osus. I didn’t, oops, did not, mean to h-h-hurt you.”

Osus gazed at him, pouting, tears soaking his white facial fur as his mother cleaned the scratches on the boy’s hand.

“You did.” Osus’ scowled. “You hurt me.”

“I, I know. I am sorry. I was wrong.” Geupetus gained control over his sobs. Osus stared for a moment, then smiled.

“All right.” The boy nodded and pulled his hand free of his mother’s grip. “Take me to fix this.”

“I will.” Geupetus took the boy’s other hand and led him into the Bathing Room. Carefully he washed the child’s hand at the edge of the bathing pool. He refrained from scowling at the shallow wounds. Krufk, he thought, I barely broke the skin. Without a word, and holding in his annoyance, he dried the boy’s hand and returned to the quiet table. He sat Osus in his seat and bravely faced his aunt and uncle.

“Please forgive me. I lost my temper, and I was wrong.”

“You are forgiven.” Elarus nodded, his violet eyes softening in their mask of white and gold fur. Tia gazed at him and smiled. “Go, enjoy your breakfast.”

“Thank you.” Geupetus bowed his head, and returned to his seat. Soft talk resumed around the table and dinnerware clicked and rang. Geupetus ate slowly. 

“Why did you get so mad?” Telluris whispered

“I do not know.” Geupetus met his friend’s concerned cobalt gaze. “He grabbed my ladle, and I couldn’t help it.”

“Could not,” Telluris corrected with a half-smile.

“Yeah, could not,” Geupetus sighed. “I should not talk like a baby anymore, even though I just acted like one.”

“Forget it.” Telluris cuffed him lightly. “This food is great, and that tableware of yours is excellent.”

“Yeah, it is.” Geupetus grinned back at his best friend, and dug into his meal, putting the incident in the back of his mind, determined never to act like a baby again.

The first day of school finally arrived on the fifth day of Rarok, right after the Spring Equinox Holiday. Excited, Geupetus carefully packed his brand-new electronic notebook, disks, paper, and his prized new school dishware. He picked up his old-fashioned ink pens, handling each colored tool with delight before returning them to their case, then packed them in a pouch in his school sack. He donned his backsack, and trotted out into the Common Room.

“I’m ready!” he announced.

“I am,” Isea chuckled her reprimand. “You had best get used to that, Son. Your instructors will be relentless against baby talk.”

“I know. I will try.” Geupetus bounced up and down on the tips of his toes.

“Telluris will be here soon. Tellara and Thetis will walk with you.”

At that moment, the visitor buzzer sounded. 

“I’ll, oops, I will get it!” Geupetus corrected himself as he romped into the foyer and flung open the door.

“Let us go!” Telluris said, excitement shining in his eyes.

Geupetus hurried outside. “Fare well, Mother!”

“Pay attention, Geupetus. Do not let this excite you too much to concentrate,” Isea admonished, pushing open the screen door, stepping outdoors.

“I will,” Geupetus promised, waving back at her. The warm spring breeze rippled his mother’s golden pelt. Her white belly, chest, chin, and lower limbs stood out starkly in the bright sun. Geupetus puffed proudly, thinking his mother the prettiest Furlite in the world. He spun around and sprinted down the shuttlepath to the road. The short road grass felt soft yet firm beneath his feet.

“This is so great,” Telluris bumped Geupetus, lashing his tail in glee. “I never thought I’d, oops, I would, finally be going to school!”

“Me either,” Geupetus laughed.

“Come on, you two, get a wiggle in those tails,” Tellara called, and the boys hurried to catch up to the older children.

“Slow poke, like an old ancient Sorsat,” Thetis chuckled.

“Shut up,” Geupetus retorted, as the older children led him and his friend into the forest. A well-worn bare dirt path wound through the trees. Red Sepurs, the predominant species stretched gnarled rust-colored trunks, and red-needled branches into the sky. Broken by the presence of deep green and maroon needles of Northern Sunips, the second most numerous species of conifer, half of the canopy glittered dark red in the morning sun. Coniferous and deciduous bushes lined the path, many flourishing early spring blooms. Snow clung to the ground in large patches, but the sun slanting through the trees beat warm on Geupetus’ back.

“Finally!” Geupetus whooped. “I get to walk this path!”

“This is great!” Telluris agreed, as they trotted behind Tellara and Thetis, who talked to each other, ignoring the younger boys. Telluris and Geupetus chattered and prattled until the woodland path broke out onto another town street.

“Wow!” Geupetus gazed up and down the winding rural road. “I have never been on this road.”

“I have not either,” Telluris said, as they trotted along, passing two homes, the second a large sprawling building. Geupetus gazed at it, inexplicably drawn to it.

“Who lives there?”

“Clan Enilura,” Tellara answered. “Cerus lives there, but he must have left already.”

“Who is Cerus?”

“A boy near my sister’s age. They are in many classes together.” Telluris answered.

“Have you met him?”

“A few times when Tellara asked him over to do homework. He is nice.”

“Oh.” Geupetus fell silent as they turned from the road into the woods, following another well-worn path through thick forest. Geupetus pointed, bumping Telluris. 

“Look, the lake!”

“Oh, wow! I wish we could go swimming,” Telluris sighed, as both boys gazed at the enticing blue water shimmering between the trees. The trail brought them within a couple of octafets from the sandy shore. A breeze blew off the lake, ruffling the boys’ fur. To their right, a steep rocky incline rose high above the trail, cresting in a stone outcrop.

“Geupetus, someday we must go up there. I bet we could see both lakes from way up there.”

“I agree. We should. Sounds like a lot of fun.”

The pace quickened, and Geupetus and Telluris ran to keep up. Thetis shouted.

“Cerus! Hey, Cerus!”

The parti-color dark copper and white figure down the trail stopped and turned. As he drew closer, Geupetus inhaled sharply, and suddenly grinned, liking the older boy immediately.

“Tellara, Thetis!” Cerus laughed. “Hey, who are the little babies?”

“Telluris is my little brother,” Tellara answered.

“This big boy is my little cousin, Geupetus,” Thetis laughed

“I am not a baby,” Geupetus growled, his temper flaring, as they caught up to Cerus. Geupetus’ temper died, and he flashed Cerus a smile. “I really am not a baby, and not older either.”

“I guess not,” Cerus laughed, his bright violet eyes dancing with mirth. “You are large enough to be in my class. Are you sure you are only eight?”

“Yes!” Geupetus snarled in sudden unreasonable wrath. He liked Cerus, but Cerus obviously did not like him. Sudden hurt and anger boiled inside like a pot on a blazing fire.

“Krufk, take it easy,” Cerus shook his head, scowling. “I am only teasing you.”

The older boy spun away from Geupetus and Telluris to join the other older children. Geupetus fumed as they traversed the remainder of the forest path, leaving the lake behind. His original fascination with Cerus turned to outrage. 

“Why are you mad at him?

“He made fun of me after I was nice,” Geupetus retorted. “I liked him! Why did he have to be so mean?”

“Older kids can be mean,” Telluris remarked. “Don’t, oops, do not let them get you all mad like that. They want us to get mad. It makes them laugh.”

“I am not sure why I did,” Geupetus furrowed his brow. “It almost felt as if you were mean to me.”

“That is silly,” Telluris slapped Geupetus’ back behind his backsack. “You do not even know him.”

“I know,” Geupetus shook himself, and changed the subject. “I am just happy we finally are not babies anymore!”

Ahead, the hard, bare dirt of the trail gave way to a thick carpet of wide-blade maroon grass that marked the road. The grass grew well up the forest trail, until thick shade of the trees forced it to stop. They broke out onto the main road, trotting on the stiff grass. Ahead, just up the street, Geupetus saw the Fundamental School. His anger diminished under rising excitement. He joined the throng of excited children pouring through the main doors. He sauntered, proud and smug, eager to settle in and learn. No more baby games and toys for him!

He and Telluris entered the First Term classroom together, barely fitting in the wide door frame. The instructor gestured with long fingers to the desks.

“Welcome, Young Ones. Please choose your seats with care as they will be yours for the entire First term.”

“Yes Sir,” Telluris answered respectfully. 

Yes, Sir,” Geupetus mimicked, wishing he had an older sibling to learn from like Telluris. He chose a seat by the wide windows, behind Telluris. He sat down, placing his notebook in the proper recessed area on the desk. 

“Plug it in,” Telluris told him, turning around briefly. 

“Did Tellara show you how to do all this?”

“Yes.” Telluris pointed. “Right here. Plug your cord there.”

“Do we turn off the wireless?”

“I do not think so. This is a school, not a medical testing place, but Tellara said she sometimes has to in certain classes.”

“Which?”

“I am not sure, but my guess is probably those using high tech sensitive equipment.”

Like what?”

“I don’t, oops, do not know,” Telluris whispered. ‘Shhh, looks like everyone is here.”

Geupetus pulled the short cord from the back of his notebook and plugged it into the system. He ran his fingertip over the ID plate on the lid, which popped open. He adjusted it to his line of sight, and waited.

“Greetings, Children.” The Instructor stood up from her seat and activated the large screen in front of the classroom. Fascinated, Geupetus watched, and as the lesson began, Geupetus’ hunger for knowledge intensified. He forgot his anger and annoyances of the morning, and eagerly focused on his new responsibilities. 

The days passed, full of homework, and learning basic skills, such as writing, on real paper and on keypads, basic mathematics beyond what his parents taught him, and introductions to science and history. Much of the basic sciences he already knew, thanks to his parents and other Clan who worked in scientific professions. 

Geupetus inhaled every atom of knowledge his teacher gave him, and excelled, surging ahead of his first-term classmates. Science subjects drew most of his interest, pleasing his parents. He endured Cerus’ teasing, using Telluris as a lifeline to keep is temper in check. He also inexplicably liked the boy, and did not understand why Cerus teased him so much. Each time Cerus called him a baby, or too big to be a First Termer, hurt cut into his heart like true physical pain. He understood nothing of it, and struggled to keep his temper in check. Telluris always had a retort for Cerus and dragged Geupetus away before Geupetus lost any control of himself. 

His anguish simmered, however, and strange dreams plagued his nights, in which he and Cerus became best friends, forming a three-boy group which ruled the schoolyard, kept bullies at bay, and won all the Shartball games.

One afternoon, as he walked home from school, Cerus waited until they trotted up Red Sepur Avenue, then cuffed him hard on the back of the head.

“You are too big to be a first Termer,” he said with a laugh. “Cannot be just eight, oh ho! Big dummy!”

“Shut up!” Geupetus snapped, sensing the older boy wanted to wrestle. Cerus wanted to test him? Just because of his size? Geupetus’ body trembled with outrage. He shoved the older boy. “Challenge! I Challenge you!”

“Geupetus!” Telluris cried. 

“Really?” Cerus chuckled, his eyes gleaming. “Challenge accepted!”

Geupetus snarled and leaped at Cerus, bowling the older boy over. Surprise lit up Cerus’ vivid violet eyes, but immediately he scowled.

“Strong, too, but not smart enough,” Cerus muttered, then in a deft motion, grabbed Geupetus’ leg and yanked it off the ground. Geupetus strove to pull free, and as Cerus’ scent entered his nostrils he inexplicably felt confusion sprout up to mingle with his anger. He pulled back, falling over on his side. With a scramble of lanky limbs, Cerus pinned Geupetus to the stiff road grass which prickled through his fur. Geupetus lashed his tail, flailing his limbs, but the older boy held firm.

“Concede!” Cerus growled. Geupetus glared at his opponent, a mixture of embarrassment and anger flashing through him. This wrestling bout held no other significance than to keep Cerus’ pride intact. Geupetus understood this, and sagged onto the roadway. He knew his strength rivaled the older boy, but he fostered no wish to hurt Cerus.

“I submit,” he muttered, annoyed, and confused by his own reactions.

“Good,” Cerus jumped off of him. “You should try for the Shartball team, Big Boy.”

“Maybe I will,” Geupetus snapped, jumped to his feet, and ran down the road ahead of the group. Telluris caught up to him.

“Hey, do not let him make you so mad all the time.”

“I really liked him when we first met, but now I am beginning to hate him,” Geupetus growled. “Why does he have to tease me so much?”

“I do not know. He teases me too, but I do not care. I just laugh and say so what?” Telluris smiled wickedly. “Next time, if he challenges you, do not be so nice! Fight back when he pins you! You have the right to do that, you know. And you sure have the strength. He needs to learn some respect, too.”

“Yes, he does,” Geupetus agreed, wanting, more than anything at that moment, to force Cerus to stop teasing him. “I do not know why I let him win.”

“Come on,” Telluris tapped his flank. “Race you!”

Telluris sprinted forward.

“Hey!” Geupetus forgot Cerus, and bounded after his friend toward home.

During the cinth of Arca, the third of the term, Geupetus and Telluris hurried down the hall to the Gymnasium, where they eagerly signed up for the school’s Shartball team. 

“Do you think we will make it?” Geupetus asked. “Your sister said no First Termers ever get on the team. But I thought I heard Father say someone in my Clan did so a long time ago.”

“As far as I know, none have, but we are allowed to try,” Telluris reminded him. “If anyone from your Clan did so I’d, oops, I would bet your Grandfather did it!”

“Maybe.” Geupetus twitched his tail.

They wrote their names carefully on the sign-up sheet, then stood in line at the Gymnasium, awaiting the weigh-in, ignoring the snickers of the older children. The Coach took the sign-up sheet, and began calling each child to the scale. As Geupetus, then Telluris, stepped on the scale, the Coach eyed both boys, brows raised, and nodded. He carefully squeezed both boys’ leg and arm muscles, raising a brow.

“Geupetus, you qualify easily, and young Telluris, you just make qualifying weight at seventy-five octlos. Congratulations, boys. You are the very first first-term students to qualify since Callistus of Clan Darius.” The Coach scowled, lashing a thick long-furred tail. Mahogany-gold fur wafted in the air behind the Coach as he continued his warning. “You do know this is a rough game. I do not want to hear any bawling and blubbering because of a yanked fur, skinned knee, elbow, or hock.”

“I understand.” Geupetus straightened, lashing his tail, adding white strands of hair to the fur settling on the floor behind him and the Coach. Pride in his grandfather took the sting from the Coach’s words.

“So do I,” Telluris said.

“Good,” the Coach nodded approval, and handed out team vests. “Let us all go out onto the field for practice.”

“Wow, your Grandfather did do it!” Telluris whispered. “Shows my know-it-all sister does not know everything!”

“True,” Geupetus grinned with pride, and slipped on his green vest, fingering the numerals before fitting the straps to his shoulders. He straightened the flap across his chest, then trotted beside Telluris, at the back of the group. He heard sniggers and laughter from the older children.

“I bet those two are not really first-termers.” Geupetus recognized Cerus’ voice. “Ever see any eight-year-olds so big? Especially the white-furred boy with the gold spots.”

“Maybe he has pituitary problems,” giggled a large, rugged, cream-colored girl.

“You should talk, Hellara,” Tellara cuffed the stocky girl across the back. “You are only in second-term, and are my brother’s size. You weigh a hefty seventy-six octlos!”

“So?” Hellara laughed. “I am not as big as the white-furred boy.”

Geupetus breathed quickly, his temper simmering. He hated that everyone thought him older than eight! Why did they not believe him? Why would he lie? Why did Cerus keep instigating all this teasing? He growled under his breath, as the group trotted onto the green field. The sun shone from a clear sky, a perfect spring day. Thick grass cushioned Geupetus’ footfalls.

“Do not let them get you mad.” Telluris patted his back. “That is what they want. I refuse to let them get to me. Just remember your Grandfather was the first First Termer to make the team! We are the first since he did it. Be proud.”

“I will try,” Geupetus sighed, wishing he had his friend’s easy-going temperament. The Coach divided the group into squads, and Geupetus forgot his anger as he watched the first two squads play each other. He screamed, rooting for Telluris’ team, who won the initial scrimmage. Geupetus eagerly took the field when Coach called his squad. He lined up, holding the ball, ready to hitch it back to Thetis. Cerus stood opposite him, crouching, hands poised for contact. His violet eyes flashed, full of laughter and scorn.

“Krufk, playing Hitcher,” Cerus feigned awe. “Too big to be eight. I would bet you are really eleven, and held home because you were too dumb to come at eight!”

“Hitch, hitch!” Thetis’ voice cracked out. Geupetus forgot the insult, and tossed the ball over his shoulder before plowing ahead to block his opponent. He smashed into Cerus, and the older boy met him. They tussled, and Geupetus strove to fling the older boy on his side.

“I am, too, EIGHT!!!” he screamed. “I am not stupid! I excel in all my lessons!”

“Ha ha!” Cerus laughed. “Home-schooled baby! Too big!”

“Shut up!” Tears stung Geupetus’ eyes, as the physical contact with Cerus flash-fired strange emotions along his nerves. He liked Cerus, yet felt fury at the older boy for not returning the feelings. 

“Boys!” Coach commanded, pulling them apart. “The play is over, get back to the line, now!”

Geupetus lined up, fuming, meeting Cerus’ amused stare. He quivered all over, wrath and hurt boiling in his guts. Mirth danced in Cerus’ eyes.

“Not eight, nope, cannot be,” Cerus mocked. “Bet you still sifz in your bed at night.”

“Hitch, hitch!” Thetis barked out the signal. Geupetus turned and threw the ball to his Tosser. Suddenly, someone slammed him to the turf, and he heard Thetis’ call echo across the field.

“Hitcher down!” The ground vibrated under him as players surged forward. His shoulder seared with pain, and his leg throbbed. He slowly sat up, just in time to see a player wearing his team’s colors cross over the goal.

“Lucky, lucky,” Cerus laughed. “Your bulk acted as a big wall, even when I smashed it down.”

Wrath inflamed Geupetus’ body, and he leaped to his feet in a flurry of white fur and grass.

“Why do you hate me?” he shrieked at Cerus. 

“Cannot be eight, cannot be eight! Must be big and dumb as a rock,” Cerus drawled in singsong voice, and laughed. “You sifzed your bed and had to stay home until you learned to hold your sif-sif!”

“I AM eight! I AM not stupid! I DON’T wet my bed! WHY DO YOU HATE MEEEE?” Geupetus roared, and launched himself at Cerus. He crashed into the older boy, knocking him several octafets backward. Cerus lost his footing and tumbled to the turf. Geupetus pounced on him, slashing like a wild animal, forgetting every rule drilled into him since birth about wrestling. His emotions flamed along every nerve, ruling his every move. He tore off Cerus’ bright blue team vest, ripping into his chest. Cerus slashed back, eyes wide with astonishment. 

Geupetus snarled as Cerus’ talon tips grazed his chest, ripping out a wad of long white hair. Geupetus grabbed Cerus’ ruff and shook his head violently. Cerus’ skull struck a stone, his eyelids fluttered, and he ceased swinging back. Geupetus slashed and rent until blood covered both of them. Someone tugged his shoulders. Shouts filled the air, but he ignored them.

“Geupetus!” Telluris’ voice, full of horror, screamed in his ear. “Stop! You will kill him!”

“Noooo!” he howled, slashing, and crying in rage. “I don’t care!”

“Yes, you will! You’ll regret it!” Telluris shouted.

Strong hands pulled him off Cerus, who lay inert. Geupetus snarled at the still form, rage flaming through him as he struggled against the hands that clutched his shoulders, legs, arms, and torso. Someone yanked his green team vest off his body, and lashed his back with its straps.

“GEUPETUS, of Clan Darius!” the Coach thundered in his ear. “Stand down NOW!” 

The command sliced through Geupetus’ red haze of fury, and he stopped all motion, gasping for air. The Coach shook him roughly.

“Are you out of your mind? LOOK at him!” The Coach barked at his assistant. “Get medical help immediately, and summon the Disciplinary Officer. And contact Clan Enilura.”

“Yes, Sir!” the reply echoed over the silent field.