Oscar Scheller
By Harrison Lewis
Copyright 2013 Harrison Lewis
Oscar Scheller was born in the village of Jevoya to Madeline Douglas and Osiris Scheller, the descendents of the Mendel family. In the second century, the Mendels founded Jevoya along with two other families of whom time has forgotten wholly. In the time since then, families from 12 continents have paid handsomely for their sons and daughters to start lives in the expensive community. Covering no more than 60 acres, Jevoya brags a population of 206 citizens, none of whom were born better off than Oscar Scheller.
The fondest memory Oscar had of his childhood involved his Uncle Peter's visit when he was 7. Uncle Peter was a scribe in a far off town, but often visited to tell stories to Oscar, his sole nephew. Oscar could only remember clearly the stories Peter would make up concerning Oscar's future life and prowess. In Peter's eyes, upon Oscar's 18th birthday, the very township would be surrendered to him. Fields and plows, thousands of animals would be his. His inheritance held not less than 10 carriages, all of which had spare barns to house the cattle that propelled them. But Oscar dreamed not of these things the night before his adulthood took effect.
On Oscar's 7th birthday, Uncle Peter had finished reading the last book he'd written for Oscar's amusement. Fearing that Oscar would not allow the lantern to be turned out without another story, Peter began to describe in rich detail the beauty and elegance with which Oscar's bride would be clothed upon Oscar's wedding day; and also, to the distaste of his parents, the lack thereof upon his wedding night. This night and every night Oscar dreamed of the beauty his uncle described. He could feel the silk of her dress as she crossed the aisle in the town church. He smelled the burning candles of the altar, infused with lilacs and roses for luck. This alone he dreamed until the day he laid eyes upon his love. The words of his uncle pierced his very consciousness for years.
“Remember only this, my dear Ox. A true man will fight for his bride, give his life to provide for her, and abide by her wishes to have her abide by his.”
One morning, adventuring past his mother's garden and out into a neighboring ranch, ten year old Oscar Scheller was combing through fields of wheat in search of foal. He neared a clearing up ahead and once he entered, he was suddenly aghast at a great wooden box suspended amongst the branches of an elm tree. It seemed to have been grown from the tree itself, stretching higher than the foliage and extending out to the furthest possible branches. Down the spine of the tree trunk, small boards of wood were scattered, secured by thin iron rods protruding into the tree. A dark rectangle was etched into the trunk where a board seemed to have been knocked loose and discarded.
Oscar avoided the missing rung as he climbed the ladder, still in awe of the craftsman that must have sculpted the majestic tree house. Pushing a panel of separated planks upward, he entered the box, where he quickly stood at attention. On the opposite side of the small room, a young girl, no older than 8, turned about to meet his gaze. In that moment Oscar wished to stay for lifetimes. Her shimmering brown hair reached past her shoulders, ending near her chest. Covering her corset, a simple white blouse and stalkings accented her fair skin. Her face was tarnished by dirt and debris from the tree house, but her obvious beauty shined into Oscar's eyes nonetheless.
“I don't believe I had the pleasure of inviting you in, boy, but it'd be nice to know your name.”
“I am Os- Oscar Scheller. My family owns the ranch down yonder and two more like it near town square.” He barely managed to choke out his words before she snapped back.
“Cortice.”A family name. “Alexandria Cortice.”
For eight years, Oscar and Alexandria were inseparable. Her mother would invite Oscar over for supper at Alexandria's request nearly every night. Although Mrs. Douglas did not approve of Oscar eating outside the ranch, he was able to sneak over most nights, given that Alexandria's family hailed from a town on the continent of Alegesia, and would invariably dine several hours later than the Schellers.
On the eve of his adulthood, Oscar dreamed of Alexandria and of Uncle Peter's story about their wedding day and about the dress and about the tree house. His dreams extended long into the morning and seemed to ride endlessly on, delaying his future altogether. However, the following morning, Oscar awoke at the normal time and dined the normal morning meal. His clothes fit in much the same way and his house felt as much a home to him as it had previously. Oscar's surroundings were much the same, but he was an adult. He grew many farms richer overnight, but Oscar was now an adult. Cattle and fields and houses were now his, but Oscar had entered adulthood, and as adults are wont to do, Oscar asked for Alexandria's hand in marriage.
The news was generally spread in good faith, and by the end of the day, the talk of the town was what seamstress would be honored by Alexandria's dress order and what baker would be offered by the groom's parents to cater the wedding. On the evening of the proposal, Oscar sat down with Mrs. Cortice to discuss dowry. When they had arrived at an agreeable number, Oscar bade his father to pay Alexandria's mother. However, a quarter hour later, his father returned much as rich as previously.
“What has transpired? Surely you have paid Mrs. Cortice, father, for the hand of her daughter?”
“An agreement is nigh, indeed. But she will not accept the payment.”
“For what reason?”
“Do not be troubled, young Oscar. She wishes it be paid to her husband, who is far from home. We shall anchor you a guide on the morrow for Shantaram on the west side of the mountain. The wed shall be paid.”
This soothed Oscar, and as was said, the next morning, his father summoned all the guides in the small town to his chamber. Unfortunately, no guide indebted to his father would be any use as not one of them had ever traveled to the town of Shantaram. When Alexandria had returned from her seamstress, she found her groom in a fog of worry.
“Good boy, bring your spirit skyward. We are to be married.”
“Aye, we to be married, but not for a marriage to occur. Your dowry cannot be delivered for lack of a guide to Shantaram. Do you know of another way to marry?”
“My mother knows of the way. At a young age she brought me with her to Shantaram frequently.”
“But your mother is ill and frail. She may not guide us.”
“Then I shall guide the party.”
“Nay. I should not allow you to travel alone with male companions so near our wedding day. But, as the dowry needs delivered, you and I may travel to Shantaram together.”
The news was spread to both families immediately and cattle were provided for the carriage from Oscar's newly realized inheritance. Alexandria divided the next of her days between fitting her dress and preparing the route they should travel while Oscar busied himself with the preparation of supplies and food they would need once on the road.
A month and 3 days before the allotted day for their wedding, both bride and groom were packed and traveling away from their homes. About 4 miles outside the limits of the town, Oscar turned toward their backs and spied a cart pulled by many mules trailing them on the exit road. Nearing a clearing, they pulled over to wait for the occupant of the hurried cart. It quickly reached their area and turned about so that its front faced their carriage. The driver exited, pulled open the door and out stepped a man in a large feathered coat. It was Victor Barron, another rich occupant of Jevoya, who had in the past overtly expressed his eyes for Alexandria's hand.
“Oscar Scheller, come out. We're about to have words.”
“What could you need, Victor? I do not want you.” cried Alexandria from the right side door.
“I wish to meet your bridegroom. And run him in.”
Oscar stepped from his carriage.
“You intend to duel,
Victor? I haven't a blade.”
“Do not worry. I have brought yours with me.”
And with that, Victor motioned to his driver. The driver turned and walked to the rear of the cart, removing two sheaths of strong calf hide. Victor plucked the two swords from their casings and motioned for Oscar to catch one before tossing it smartly toward him. Oscar remained standing as Victor turned his blade over in his hands, swirling the point around in arcs. The two men moved off to the left of their guests, crossing their legs as they stepped.
Victor made the first lunge, aiming low toward Oscar's hip, but was parried immediately and returned with a swing to Oscar's neck on the right side. Ducking below the metal, Oscar stepped into the swing, closing the distance between himself and Victor, where he blocked another jab before swinging low to the calve muscle in Victor's leg.
Alexandria stood directly outside the carriage, frozen in fear. As the battle ensued, she would let out faint gasps and worried sounds, hoping that Oscar prevailed in this duel for her honor. Although Oscar was clearly the superior in footwork, Victor's grip on his weapon never wavered or dropped, and his controlled aim far outmatched Oscar's swordsmanship.
The fight continued and Oscar managed to back Victor off the road and near to some wheat. He blocked a