Quax

Quax (500Words, Round 3, Day 8, 2/21/18)
The sky was a perfect periwinkle blue, and the white clouds making small shadows were bright and puffy and filled with potential images. The scents of spring were hiding just under the surface and the animals were showing the tension of waiting for the end of winter. The scene from on high was as if it had been painted, and Quax wanted to capture it somehow even as they knew it was up to them to disrupt it. For this moment, though, it was beautiful.
“It’s not up to you to decide.”
Quax rotated to face the voice that knew more than it should. They looked and waited for more words to come. The voice-holder looked back, waiting for Quax to respond. Time froze while the two entities paused. Both knew nothing would happen without their input, and neither was in a hurry.
Yesti rolled over, existing outside of time and oblivious to the tension before her. “Quax! Is it soon? Did I miss it? Wriden, why are YOU here? This isn’t yours to do – you know it’s up to Quax. Don’t make trouble where there’s plenty without you.”
The two entities rotated to follow Yesti’s rolling presence and, as they did, time resumed. The clouds below shifted slowly into new shapes. The little beings on their earth continued their ramblings with no awareness of what was happening above. Quax let their rotation continue and focused their attention on the scene below. The action would have to happen soon, regardless of what they wanted. In that, Wriden was right.
“Quax?” Yesti rolled around Quax’s base quaking. “Do you need me, Quax? Can I help?”
“It is up to Quax to do.”
Resisting the urge to pause time again, Quax pulled the scene in closer. The blue and white blended together into a soft grey as the small things came into focus. From this perspective, the day was less perfect, less crisp. The air felt heavy and the beings were busy. All the movement gave Quax hope. There were options. His action didn’t have to be final. There was hope.
“Quax?” Yesti had stayed close. “Do you really have to do it?” Her voice held all the emotion Quax was suppressing. It was like she was a physical embodiment of feeling. It was hard to know if having her close was good or bad.
“Quax must act. The action must happen in time.”
“Wriden, would you just stop?” Yesti’s rolling seemed to be trying to protect Quax. “I’m not talking to YOU when I ask questions. I’m talking to Quax, and you’re not letting them answer!”
“They don’t have the answers.”
Quax ignored the two of them and pulled the scene before them even closer. There was one being they needed to see. One being who needed to be there before and after the action. One being that mattered more than Yesti or Wriden or the rest. Quax understood the inevitability of all of it. When everything was done, the others would understand, too.

*This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons real or imagined is unintentional

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