Aaron's World Chapter 1

Part I

What we see in the Stars,
We can find in ourselves

Chapter 1: A Fork in the Road

Aaron Glifice lay on his back and looked at the clouds scudding off the icy mountains in the north. No two clouds were the same but they were all borne along by the same stiff breeze.

People were a little like cloud he supposed idly as he ran one hand through his dishevelled brown hair. No two the same, all trying to make their way in the world as they were blown here and there on the wind of some fortune. Take his life for instance. Tomorrow was Aaron’s egg day, the coming of age celebration that marked the start of his adulthood. Everyone, barring tragedy, came of age but their paths through life thereafter could be quite different.

Aaron sat up brushing loose grass from his clothes and picked up a twig that had being lying hidden amongst the grass. With an indulgent sigh he threw it into the river Fedmore that wound its way from the mountains in the north past his feet to the plains in the far south. The twig disappeared beneath the surface for a moment and then reappeared bobbing along in the swift current. It carried the lonely little traveller into an obstruction, a moss covered rock protruding wetly above the surface of the water. For a moment Aaron held his breath, unsure of which way the twig would go, into the stagnant sheltered water to the right of the rock, or plunge back into the turbulent current. After a moment perched on the fork of destiny as it were, the twig plunged back into the flow and disappeared. Aaron sighed with relief and lay back in the long grass. Sometimes you just had to go with the flow he thought, but given the choice he would always prefer the hurly burly excitement of adventure, to a life in a stagnant pool.

Despite his best efforts to evade the subject, Aaron’s thoughts in their usual roundabout way had led him full circle back towards the matter at hand: His egg day. For generations his people had from birth worn round their necks a coloured egg-shaped stone, carried down from the mountains by the river and worn to symbolise childhood. No two egg stones were the same colour just as no two children are exactly alike. On the upcoming day of celebration, all children who had passed their sixteenth birthday that year would have their egg stone removed, as they entered into adulthood and took up their chosen profession.

Aaron’s problem was that he didn’t have a chosen profession. His mother called him a dreamer, but it wasn’t his fault, nothing he had set his hand to seem to fit. Not that anything was wrong with a good bread winning occupation like farming or carpentry; he just didn’t think they were right for him. They didn’t spark that fire of interest that he got from dreaming of faraway places. So Aaron had never stuck at any one job and he knew some people had started to think of him as different.

A month previous his best friend Damond had learned with delight that he was to be apprenticed to the smithy and day by day the dread had grown in Aaron’s stomach that he would not do so well; that no one would choose him to be their apprentice. Almost as bad was the dread at what his mother would say or how other members of the community would treat him. Perhaps he would even be sent to join the Gremmen!

From time to time idlers or the unemployed would be taken to the west of the river and abandoned for the Gremmen: to become one of them and serve their Dark Mistress. Aaron sat up and looked at his reflection in the water. A young man with dark hair and thoughtful eyes stared back at him. His mouth curved up into an easy smile, which was lost as the wind disturbed the watery image.

His musings were interrupted by a crack of thunder rolling down from the mountains. He’d let his concentration drift for too long, in these parts a storm could come out of the mountains without much warning. No sooner had he got to his feet and the rain started falling. Cursing his luck or his absent mindedness, he wasn’t sure which; Aaron walked as quickly as he could back along the path to the Town. Darkness quickly swept over him and the rain got heavier. Looking up he saw that the sun had been blotted out and he soon lost track of the path. Taking his best guess he lent into the wind, one arm held up against the angled rain. Very soon Aaron was soaked through and miserable. He had no idea what direction he was heading in or how many times he had been turned around in the storm.

Then, for a moment Aaron thought he saw a stuttering light in the darkness. He moved his tired body in the direction he thought he’d seen the light and found its source was the window of an old cottage. He banged on its wooden door several times and hearing no reply swung it open and closed it again behind him. Blinking against the light Aaron found himself in a kitchen. The smells of warm food filled his nostrils. In front of him an old man sat at a table, seemingly absorbed in his work.

‘Who’s there?’ said the old man suddenly as he looked up. He stood up and pushing some old parchments under a book grabbed a nasty looking cane and fixed Aaron with an icy stare.

‘Who do you think you are to interrupt my important work, boy!?’

‘I’m sorry’ Aaron stuttered, keenly away of the water he was dripping on the clean stone floor. ‘I got caught in the storm and I saw your light.’

‘You saw my light eh?’ The old man growled. ‘And what may I ask were you doing out in the storm boy, or are you just stupid?’

‘No Sir!’ Aaron replied somewhat taken aback ‘I was just thinking - daydreaming really and the storm came in very fast.’

‘Thinking?’ said the old man ‘And what may I ask, were you thinking about?’

Aaron stared at the old man. He was not tall, no more than five foot five but had an immediate presence making him seem larger than he was. He wore old baggy trousers held up by bracers and a shirt with dust on it from the many old books and parchments that surrounded him. He had tuffs of grey hair in all directions and a pince-nez. But most striking of all were his bright blue eyes that shone wisely. The old man coughed expectantly and then poked Aaron sharply with his cane.

‘You’re doing it again boy!’

‘Sorry Sir.’

‘Don’t apologise!’

‘Ouch! I was thinking about my egg day sir. I have no apprenticeship to go to.’ Aaron said, aware he was starting to babble. ‘I was looking at the clouds blowing off the mountains and feeling like one of them. I just don’t know what to do.’

‘There there’ said the old man softly as Aaron finished. ‘Take a bowl of soup and warm yourself by the fire. ‘

Muttering thanks Aaron went with the old man to sit by the fire, which was soon stoked to life, and with a delicious bowl of leek and potato soup in his stomach Aaron began to feel better, though a little embarrassed at his outburst.

‘So the old egg day is still going on eh? No one remembers the reason why it was done.’ said the old man, more to himself than Aaron. Then he suddenly brightened and looking intently at Aaron said ‘Let’s have a look at your egg stone then boy.’

Aaron pulled the egg stone from his shirt and passed it to the old man, who squinting, inspected it.

‘A white one!’ he exclaimed

‘I know, not very interesting’ said Aaron sighing. ‘I wish I’d had a red or a blue one like some of my friends.’

‘Ha!’ The old man laughed. ‘You young, always wishing for something else! I would have loved a white stone; they come from the very depths of the mountain valleys and are made up of many of the other colours fused together. But then you wouldn’t know that!’

The idea that someone liked his egg stone cheered Aaron. Sometimes he thought he could see the white within the stone move as if the mists were about to part and reveal something to him. Aaron wondered what the old man’s stone had looked like.
‘Tell me boy can you read?’

‘Oh yes sir very well, my mother always told me if I spent more time working on my chores and less time reading, I would make more of myself.’

‘Well we will see about that’ replied the old man sharply. ‘Not all wisdom can come from books, certainly, but those that turn their backs on the words of the dead are foolish indeed.

‘My name is Nez, Nez Remond and I am very pleased to meet you boy. Now what is your name, or do you wish me to continue referring to you as boy?’

‘My name is Aaron Glifice’ Aaron said feeling very at ease with the old man despite his eccentricity. ‘Thank you for the soup and your kindness.’

‘It is no kindness Aaron Glifice; I think I may have a job opening for a young man of your abilities.’

‘What would I do?’ Aaron was stunned

Nez laughed ‘you won’t earn much money,’ he warned ‘but you will be paid in wisdom and I don’t think you will be any the poorer for it. As for the work you will help me here with whatever I judge meaningful.’

‘Thank you so much Sir!’ Aaron cried overjoyed ‘I will do my best.’

‘Yes you will’ replied Nez with a trace of hardness. He glanced at the window, now no longer being pounded by the rain ‘Now the rain is slackening off, run home and tell your mother and I will see you tomorrow. You can find your way home?’

‘I think so.’

Aaron got up and took his leave of the old man and his cottage and walked back towards the Town with a renewed bounce in his step. The air was crisp and cleaned by the rain and the clouds were parting as he looked to reveal the mountains blazing in the sunshine. Water dripped from the trees and flowers. All his senses invigorated Aaron felt incredibly alive as he took in a deep gulp of air. On his chest something stirred in the white stone and behind him sitting quietly in the cottage the old man whispered to himself:

‘When the student is ready the Master will appear.’ Then he chuckled, well pleased.


Please read and rate and Chapter 2 will be posted soon!