Flash Fiction Friday (56)

(Image found on Toto Photos)

Blodeuedd got me started with Dottie over at Tink's Place doing these Flash Fiction posts with images.  But with all the picture stuff going on, and life gets crazy it's hard to keep up.

I'm going to try doing the flash with three words randomly found in the dictionary.  I closed and opened the book three times and dropped my finger on the page.  Where it fell was the word.

The words this week:
~~ Medalist - n. 1) a person who designs or makes medals 2) a person who has been awarded a medal 3) in golf, the winner at medal play.
~~ Tender - v.t. 1) to offer in payment of an obligation 2) to present for acceptance; offer; as, he tendered his resignation - n. 1) an offer of money, services, etc. made to satisfy an obligation 2) a formal offer, as of marriage, a contract, etc. 3) something offered in payment, especially money; ef. legal tender
~~ Pacemaker - n. a runner, horse, automobile, etc. that sets the pace for others, as in a race.

I'm picking up with the flash fiction set in a fantasy steampunk world.

The starts of this story is Flash Fiction Friday 51 with Shaffron the steam-pixie.

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By:  Melissa

Shaffron trudged through the sharp rain.  It felt as it could cut her skin like fresh cut metal as she flew the message to the giant's army.  Probably something about where they are to move to next, or attack, or something Shaffron didn't care about.  She wanted tender of gears and metal, maybe money and some food along the way, and find the Medalist.

The Medalist was an a man from long before the pixies wings where ripped from their backs, and this metal impostors had to be created.  If it wasn't for him they wouldn't have come up with another way to fly.  He was a simple man creating medals for awards and fun, when metal working was for fun, not for life.  His medals grew to hide secrets in the gears for revolutionary fights, sending messages from pixie to pixie and allies during games and battles.  Then his gear creations grew from his crafty mind and have helped bring them back to some semblance of life.

Shaffron had to watch her step with the giants.  They were demanding and would cheat her any payment if she was slow at getting her messages through.  She couldn't afford to be relaxed on receiving any metal, gears, or compatible needs.  The Medalist would need them all to finish his project when he was found and retrieved.  The last word received was that the Medalist was taken by the giants for his known works, and they had loads of metal to work and create any weapons against their enemy.  The Medalist had become a pacemaker in the metal yielding field, and crafting the steam machines to get through what flesh could not.

Shaffron sighed with relief when she spotted the first sign of camp.  She flashed her mirror in the rhythmic pattern to signal she was of no harm and had a message.  A giant stepped from behind the tree, causing Shaffron to start and almost drop her mirror in the mud below as he looked like a moving tree in his disguise.

As she followed the guard to the chief, Shaffron heard the unmistakable sound of gears clicking and metal being molded.  Shaffron shifted her head to listen and look, to find where the sounds were coming from.  This could be her clue to the Medalist.  Maybe he's here in this camp.