(GE Copy)

Chapter 23: A Broken World (Part 3)

“...Then I remembered how IT surrounded me, and the selfish mask I wore fell over my eyes with more force than ever before.”

A pleasant air encompassed her, as Avalyn merrily pranced back home with a bag of assorted goods. She seemed to be even happier now that he was accompanying her. Aaron could feel himself unwind with her oddly organic hinting aroma, though she had just tended a garden of fresh herbs. The smell seemed to stain her skin, as though permeating deep within her, and exfoliated sweetly. The dashing of light brown hair came apparent as though his whole time he had never noticed until now and it was very heartwarming. He couldn’t help it, Aaron was becoming more fascinated with her by the minute.

At the end of the road stood a large house. It’s large settler era walls were emboldened by the fresh coat of paint as if it had undergone so many coats that it’s exterior was no longer wood. The wilting plants hung from it’s windows seemed deeply hued with careless over watering, and it’s floors were swept so clean that it wore striations along the dry peeling planks. If a man could smother a house, then even the foundation was suffocating for a gasp of solitude.

Apprehension began to set in, trying to tell himself that it’s was all fine, with such a nice person leading him. This was a clever ruse until the bluff would wear off and Aaron would feel his walls enclosing on him. The deep aroma of wood seeped into his nostrils, dry, rich, overpowered by the perfume leaching out from the front door. As Avalyn opened the doors, Aaron could hear the chatter of many voices occupying the floors out of sight and stood himself in the open doorway. “You know...” Aaron insisted, “I really couldn’t burden you like this with so many mouths to feed already.”

“Nonsense, it’s no burden. If we didn’t, you’d still be left starving.” Notably reaching to give him a gentle push but awkwardly never having the wills to actually make contact, as she tucked her hand behind her and bashfully lead him in.

Aaron willed himself past the breach, flowing into the foyer and being hit in the face with a pungent floral smell. The same as what was caked so deeply into Avalyn. The excess of bouquets sprawling around the house, livening the space, sitting in every corner and on every end table. It smelled brutally potent. It was as though each festering vase and vessel was left like a coffin, feeding the new floral occupants off the expired blood tea of dead flowers before them.

Walls were cluttered with objects and things, like a broach embedded with more gems than it could carry. Even the wall boards seemed exhausted, and clinging to their holdings with reluctance. Paintings, ornaments, wooden figures of varying genesis, from quaint onto morbidly abstract and many depictions of blond furred bull.

Two young men greeted them, dressed proper with their short hair greased over to one side. Their pleasant tones were effeminate and bold, with a restraint that seemed mannerly as they met elsewhere. Though they spoke many words, Aaron could not recall what it was that they had mentioned, as though whatever it was, was simply unimportant. A young girl stood upon the stairs, her short lovely locks superimposed on her unfitting discontent, with a short blue dress and a soured face that was unthrilled with the world. She stood a moment only to prance arrogantly down and into another room of the house. Two more ladies, seeming of married age and stature merrily jested one to another and resided in the kitchen, with no ring upon their fingers.

From the faint sound of music being played, to the children running a circuit around the inside of the house, came a silence and the crash of a vase fallen over. “Layon! Branton!” A loud voice hollered from upstairs. “I hear you running in my halls after I told you not to! What did you break? Was it the blue one, or the green one?”

“The... The green one, mama!” An older man replied in their stead, walking shamefully away with the shattered pieces of a blue painted clay.

The children seemed unimpeded, until the woman hollared back, “Don’t make Lady Mathalda come down there with the wooden handle!” Halting the you young boys to a slow pace. “You’re lucky it’s the vase I don’t really care for, or there’d be two young boys cleaning the crawl space with a brush right about now.”

“You know she’ll be furious...” Avalyn softly uttered, catching the man as he passed.

“She won’t accept that I did it anyway,” He replied, “least I can do is lessen the straps against them.”

“She’ll be less furious if you told the truth...” But he seemed to sneer back at her. At least Aaron knew what direction ‘crazy’ was going to hit him from this time, peering up the stairs where the voice had come. As Aaron stood closer to Avalyn, he motioned that he should probably go, catching her immediate understanding. “Lady Mathalda loves guests, really. It would make her whole day if you stayed. Please, there are plenty of people to get acquainted with while you wait.” Yeah, that was kinda his issue, actually... “I just need to give Anmer and Kleo their produce so they can finish cooking them.” Assuring Aaron as he tired to cling near her. “I’ll be certain to find you.” Finally fading into the kitchen.

“And there goes my only option to remain sane by the end of this...” Aaron muttered amidst the dining room.

Aaron kept to himself, trying to be an innocuous as possible and avoiding both passer by and any means trying to converse with him. Four ladies came in from the lively livingroom, one with a pan to clean up the mess from earlier, and two of them that simply followed for the gab. They stood around, sneaking biscuits from the cupboard for their tea and spent the whole time gossiping in amidst one another. Aaron was glad to be considered no more than a wall painting and left alone but he couldn’t help but feel it was like listening to his Aunt Eustis. Always dropping more names than stories about them, and repeating petty details about the clothes they were wearing rather than what they were doing in them. The only difference seemed to spark Aaron’s attention, when he heard the honesty breaking out into the open, as one of them scowled haughtily with a stern pretentious piouty. “She’s such an annoying little two-shoes, telling me how to do better, like she has the right to. Don’t tell her I said that though; she still think's she’s winning that argument. It’s cute to watch her fail.”

“You should have heard what Cristie said the other day. Compared my pear pie to summers evening, she’s such an ass kisser, it pisses me off how she think’s I’ll treat her any better if she’s nice to me.”

Returning from the kitchen, Avalyn noted the strong attention Aaron had cast upon them, and strolled up to the circle. She eagerly glanced eyes to Aaron, attending his acknowledgement into the circle with a clear intention to impress him. “Jake ended up throwing another customer out today, threatening to call the authorities on some helpless man, all because he doesn’t want to work again. He’s such a delinquent.”

Getting the repulsed return to the two ladies, they began to overtalk her. “No one cares, go bother the Loche boy, maybe he’ll settle for a pathetic lamb like you.” Shaming her, shooing Avalyn even as she quietly walked away, too embarrassed to say face with Aaron. “Look at her shuffle off with that sad mug on her face. Nothing more hateful in the world than bloody lambs. Question this, question that, fuck them, the hateful pieces of shit. Always asking questions, like it’s my responsibility to tell them anything. They can go plant a tree and sit on it; that’s what I say. They’re not worth the life they were given. Hate, hate, hate, that’ll all you’ll ever find in a little teary eyed lamb.”

“I wouldn’t even eat a lamb chop...” The other woman joined in, “...Just thinking about it sharing the same name makes me sick to my stomach.”

“The god’s should have destroyed those lower life forms before they had the good courtesy of leaving us alone. They should all gather in a circle so we can douse the building in fire... Oh how we tolerate the impudent for their sakes...” Laughing in unison with the circle.

“After all, it wasn’t our faults lambs are naturally born stupid.”

Running a strangely hot vein in is body, Aaron audibly muttered out from the corner of the room in discontent. “Can’t we curse on some other animal, like a pig or something?...” Until every eye was cast eerily upon him, even the other two women that were leaving with the broom in hand. “Alright, fine, it’s all the lamb’s fault. Go... Strap him to a table or something...” Finding everything go back into motion as Aaron conformed.

Running past him for the fourth time, the one of the kids tripped, picking himself up and continued despite the faceless reprimands from the other room. From behind, Aaron could ear a fake farting. One child, standing closely behind him, was dead set intent on being a real nuisance; making all forms of obscene comments, accusing Aaron of doing it, with the kid’s face hid directly behind him. Aaron turned to shoo him off but the kid followed behind making even louder flatulence with his tongue, as his friend joined in laughing at Aaron. He grit his hand just as the parent barged in the room, penalizing the ill begotten child, to little effect.

“You’re not my dad!” The kid scowled back in great defiance, even in the face of the resulting backlash from the man.

“No, but if your Father wasn’t on the toilet right now he’d have strung your little neck like a damn washboard!” Aaron stepped back from the fire and let the man continue. “Now get out of here, and give us some peace, or do you need me to tell him what you’ve done?” Seeing the kid frantically scuttle out the door. The boy fearfully looked back at the furious man, only for his partner in crime to carelessly skip past and call for another unhinged rampage on the neighbourhood.

A fury still lingered in the man, never once acknowledging Aaron at the centre of affliction, even as he left for the meeting room. Aaron figured his odds of slipping out the back door, and sighed walking towards it, even in his hunger. A peculiar smell finally reached Aaron’s nose, having battled through the corpses of flowers gone by. It was like a strange sausage, or prepared meat. Then came the vegetables, rustic and refined. “Deck the table!” The kitchen girl called out. “Mama’s about to be down the stairs any minute now.” As a sea of people washed past Aaron to set the stage.

With the creaking of floor boards and the humming of a pleasant woman, came a large wrinkled fat sow, who’s makeup was caked until cracking and hues matched nothing of her complexion. Yet no amount of powder could cover the pronounced blush that blistered from the plucking of hairs between her two protruding brows. The bounce by which her steps took, made the dreary walls weep, and ornaments hung thereof to wobble. Her smile quickly turned to surprise, and a grin was drawn from ear to double chin. “A visitor, who do I have to thank for inviting him in my stead...”

Sheepish, everyone stood too tied to speak, until one woman spoke, “Avalyn did it, mama...”

Veering her eyes to the shy girl, Mama Mathilda warmed pleasantly, “My girl... It seemed even a dumb lamb like you can do something right from time to time,” Turning towards Aaron, “Welcome, today is a special day...”

“But, Mama...” The woman who ratted Avalyn out, piped up again. “Every day is special, with you...”

“Will you stop your snickering!” Mathilda scowled, to the back row, returning in a softer tone “Of course every day is special, Cristie. But today, we have klordyke. It’s been ages since we had klordyke. Just the smell of it drags me here before my hour’s due... And you little boy, you’re here on a very special occasion. Nothing is more special than rare food. It’s the lifeblood, you see, life makes everything special; and when that life is rare, that makes it even more special. Sit, everyone, to your table chair, klordyke is here...”

In a flurry of people, the table was set and decorated in an instant and soon everyone was sat down with it. One extra seat, Aaron reached out to sit at it, and was aided into his chair. Sitting centre was a large roll of greyish meat, sauced and sprinkled with herbs. Aaron wasn’t certain if it was the grass clippings or the meat but something had not complimented the meal and it smelled deceptively putrid. Bracing himself to leave, Aaron excused himself. “S-sorry, I... I gotta hippie the hip, hip hop out here...”

“Oh, don’t be shy...” Avalyn insisted, “Poor thing’s stuttering. He’s been given a hard road to follow, to the point of breaking him.”

Casting her displeasure, “I would normally despise you’re overt sympathy...” Mama Mathilda remarked, “...but I must side that a man deserves the meats due to him. I couldn’t possibly leave a starving child to go without, it’d break poor Mama’s heart.”

“It smells even better than last years klordyke.” The guilty young man remarked, rubbing the dirt from his hands.

“That’s because I made sure to keep everyone’s grubby little paws off of it this time. Jakket meat needs to age for three months, not two. I will not be swindled on that a second time, we must all wait for perfection. I even made sure to let it ferment in it’s own blood down in the cellar like Grandmama used to when I was a child.”

‘I’m going to die...’ Aaron considered peacefully to himself, letting the terror bleed right in past the walls of his pacifying thoughts. ‘No...’ Returning with a more grievous certainty ‘I’m going to fucking die here...’ “I will be certain to leave that for the best part then...” Aaron excused, buying time as he set the meat aside.

“Leave?” Mathilda remarked in confusion. “The best part is right away. It’s the heat of the rush, the temptation that wets the tongue. Everyone knows that you pour your best wine at the start of a meal, because after it set’s in, men become too bland to taste anything but salt and sweets...” Mama muttered, before a curious criticism came over her. “Saving the best for last... Where did you ever come from with ideals as backwards as those?”

“Okanagan, it’s a renound wine country, well... Valley, really.” Aaron spilled upon the hot seat, “There are over a hundred and fifty wineries. My Father works at one, I’ve heard a lot about it for someone who’s not old enough to drink yet...”

“I suppose that would excuse you’re poor thinking... It sounds as though your home is rather akin of consumption... And if there is one thing to be said about someone who drinks in such excess... It is that he probably loves his craft enough to know what he’s talking about. Although, talk is cheep, especially second hand. If you become such a lush like you’re Father in your ripe age, and I’m still alive to hear it, I’d appreciate you to return to me should this obscene fantasy you have hold itself worthy of it’s merits.” Grumbling the last couple symbols into a worrisome monotone humming

Aaron grazed upon his vegetables, but even they had a peculiarity to them. Their blanching should not have softened them as they were, but the smell of the meat overpowered it all and made everything unpalatable. Aaron choked down what he could, hoping it was just his nose that offset the rest as a quiet stillness filled the table.

“Flowers are getting a bit peckish...” Mathilda broke in, as all seemed peaceful again. “Should give them another watering, their about to wilt... making their things... So where is this place?” Mathilda asked openly, confusing Aaron if it were directed towards himself, but the sound of humming from her seemed to imply her mind became preoccupied. In a long quiet pause that ominously filled the table, Aaron could eat his limp blanched vegetables in awkward peace. In the corner of his eyes, Mathilda veered glance after glance at him having a stern expression upon her that even he could see in his peripherals. “I said eat your damned klordyke!”

Aaron paused, taking in the aimless direction of her speaking manner, and pulled the meat towards him, seeing the creases in her forehead unfurrow. Aaron pensively prepared himself before giving the meat a cut, and taking a small bite. Aaron smiled. ‘It’s like liver...’ He thought to himself, ‘I’m going to die here, AND it tastes like shit.’

“You said your valley...” Humming to herself, clearly intending to address him this time, but became oddly quiet, “is it, or...” and the cutlery overpowered her voice as it became silent.

“The valley? My home, ye...”

“Are you so important?” She overlapped Aaron, in a diverged manner, that seemed overwhelmingly offended in a calm that seemed almost distracted. Aaron kept himself quiet as her humming interspersed a clacking in her mouth and a snuffing noise from her nose. He could see the muscles in her mouth moving with a closed jaw, though speaking a silent soliloquy. Her sunken eyes seemed to fall back further from her billowing brows to a nearly blackened outline. “I’ve asked you before.”

“What were you asking?”

“Am I finished speaking?” She roared,

“I though you were...” Aaron defended sheepishly, to the shock of his table.

“Again! AGAIN! I wasn’t, was I speaking?” Mathilda inquired surprised amidst the family. “Was I? Was I?”

Sheepishly amidst the table, Cristie murmerd aloud, “Well, you weren’t...”

“Yeah, mama!” The two comb over boys joined in unison. “He clearly over talked you.” “I heard him clear as day!” Gathering the frightened support of those around him before silencing themselves quietly to the storm that brewed at their head of the table.

“I’m... Sorry, ma’am.” Aaron apologized, seeing the wrinkles becoming reddened.

“You did it again! I will have no such manners at my table! It is unpardonable to speak over me like you have but I will have no lamb grazing off my table, not even for any klordyke. Especially for my sacred klordyke!”

“I think it’s time that you left...” One of the patrons mentioned obscured behind the cover someone else to mask his suggestion, as another met and demanded the same.

Aaron risen from the table, removing the hand cast upon him and walked towards the front door. His willing compliance was met with hostility from the mob following him from the room, cursing him overtop the loud litany from the old woman. Aaron snapped, cursing back only to hear from the man in front of him. “If you only did what we asked you to do, you wouldn’t be in this situation.” Having the blatant non sequitur bounce off Aaron’s hardened exterior.

A flame kindled within Aaron, looking at the saddened face of Avalyn who’s hidden tears could be seen from the foyer, as they condemned the guilty lamb for inviting another, until a fire broiled “And shame on you!” Aaron exploded with a blinding inferno behind his eyes “What are you doing to poor Avalyn over there?” Aaron stood firmly, “She has to live with freaks like you, while you insult her and treat her like shit for being nice!”

“Stop trying to do my any favours!” Avalyn shout out to Aaron from the back, in a ferocious terror “Everyone just wants me to be what they want me to be! I don’t love you! Get away from me you monster!” Aaron’s eyes were widened in a silence shock, as a firm hand pushed him down the porch to the hard stone walkway. Even the winding landing was numb with the betrayal that locked him in a daze. The door closed, still hearing the tirade of anger ensue from the dining room, as two men dragged him to the roadside, and threw him into the neighbours hedge, with one final kick to the abdomen. They spat on him, and walked back to their house, having to knock on the door to be let back in. It slammed quickly behind them, as though the deadly threat of a ravenous bleating lamb were taken for a serial killer.

Aaron could even hear someone call out from the house, “He’s mad! He’s mad!” Surely, they would turn to Avalyn next, but the shock was too far embedded for him to realize, or even care.

He laid there, watching an old man walk past him, smirking. “Really got the old Bitch going didn’t ya?” Laughing. Aaron nodded from his grassy bed, “Good man... Good man. Old lady Stick-up-her-Ass, that Cow and her golden family over there needs a little contention every once in a while. Got her kids and the whole damn neighbourhood licking the gout from her feet like some damn cult. As far as I see, you did the whole world a favour right there.”

“Glad to be of service then...” Aaron coughed, regaining the function over his whimpering lung as he leaned forward.

“So, what set her off this time? Someone wreck her precious vase?”

“Yeah... She’s gonna be even less pleased when she sees that one. The hag has a speech impediment, as I’m supposed to know... and doesn’t take kindly when people notice. Had the whole round table up in rage coz one of them wanted to be mama’s favourite. It’s a damn circus show in there, same with the rest of this fucking town.”

“I’m beginning to like you...” Reaching out to help Aaron to his feet.

“Please, don’t. I’m not the kind of guy you want to start liking.”

Patting Aaron on the back, the old man laughed, “I’m sure you’re right, but all that is owed, is still owed to a man.”

“Holy sheep shit!” Exclaimed another old man, high on his heels. It was the guy who first introduced Aaron. “Thought I heard Mrs. Cornwhole in a ripe tissy, and what do I find when I show myself up here? I was damn right! Now, who’s the man I aught to be thanking for that one? You know I was just out watering my garden, dressed none to well, else I woulda been here sooner.” Laughing a hissing sleaze of merry chuckles. “Damn bugs are sitting on my berry bushes, making whoopee, spilling their guts all over my fresh produce. Tried potash, didn’t seem to bother them. Sprinkled pepper water over it, but that just made them hornier. Might sit in the back yard later tonight if the no-see’ems ain’t hungry...”

“Damn, do you ever shut up?” The old man deflected.

“You make a living off of being rude, don’t you? I come here to tell you about my day, and you just throw me aside?”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? You’re crazy rambles don’t mean shit, now bugger back to your hovel and make love to your tomato patches already!”

“You don’t need to be mean about it...”

Marvelling at the effectiveness, Aaron astounded, “How’d you manage to live in a town like this?”

“You grow into it...” The old man kicked the ground impatiently. “If you’re gonna grow up around crazy, ya gotta learn how to treat crazy like it’s a damn disease. There’s only one cure for it, and it’s real simple too: Don’t matter who you talk to, treat anyone like shit long enough and they fuck off. Simple as that, and just don’t let it get to you. Ain’t no one in the world worth their salt anyway so why give it to them?... Except that,” Pointing to the old woman’s house, “That was worth your salt.”

“Great as all this is, I gotta get out of here. The longer I stay here, the more it makes me want to go to church. It’s like a sick Christmas story trying to teach me how to be a better person. I’m starting to feel real bad about the people back home that had to put up with me... Best thing this has taught me is to show me how prideful I’ve been...”

“No,” The man dismayed, “No... no, no, no! You did good kid, real good! You gotta be assertive, bolster that pride, bolster it! That pride is a good thing, it’s what makes boys into men! Why douse that fire, ah? Let it fuel you, burn in you, passion you. Say ‘fuck you’ to the world, it don’t deserve it!” Patting Aaron on the back with a smile. “Go on, I know you got places to be. Don’t forget, if you don’t let no one walk over ya, you have control over your life. No one deserves your time but you...” Watching Aaron willingly leave, while muttering to himself outside earshot “Stupid asshole, morality, shmorality, bla-bla-blah, shaaad-aaap...” Turning his back. “What a lamb. No wonder he pissed off old bitch Cornhole.”

All around Aaron, people looked happy, still gabbing in the street. The more Aaron saw and heard, the darker the shade around them seemed to loom. The beautiful little town, sparkling with delight and infested with trash. The pale dusty cracks along the ground seemed deeper than before, and the stone fell grey under the bitter tint that immersed it. People going off about their pride and their ego’s while the bored recipients stood in line awaiting their turn to rant about their day in return. People forcing themselves to relish over menial things, just to savour a strange moment of their company. Incoherent babbles and meaningless dribbles, everyone was in love with their own pride.

Aaron pondered his reasons of remaining, and looked at the late golden sun just barely overtop the hills. “What the heck?” Aaron turned to the crash-banging off in the distance. Before his eyes were a band of miscreants taking turns kicking, and jumping on an old rusted wheel barrow, breaking it in. Three of them he recognized from the house, and in one of their hands was his insurance policy being used as a mallet.

Aaron searched his person, noticing that his loaner device was missing, left at the house; or had it been stolen when the children were messing with him, before they were sent out to destroy the town? “I’m being punished for my past life, aren’t I?” Aaron dismayed, as he walked swiftly up towards them, “Hey! That doesn’t belong to you!”

“You’re not my dad either!” The impudent little puke persisted.

“I’ll wring your little fucking neck like I am!”

A light poured over one of the kids, as he proclaimed, “Hey, guys... Guys, guys, guys, guys!” repeating himself another ten or fifteen times until everyone finally noticed him. “Pbth! Pbth!” The impertinent brat replicated behind Aaron, like before. “This is Mr farty! Pbth! Hear that!? Pbth! Aw, so stiiiiinkyyy...”

Shooing the kid off, they laughed, throwing things at Aaron as they chanted “You’re a stupid lamb! You’re a stupid lamb!” Before scattering, and laughing at the single entity unable to catch the six of them.

A malignant fire brewed in Aaron with a raging ferocity. Retrieving one of the large sticks that was cast at him, Aaron hooked himself a perfect stick toss. It slammed a firm jail poke to the kid’s shoulder that numbed even the caster’s hands. Watching the little shit disturber run off crying, Aaron spat. “Not like I’m going to be here long enough to hear the consequences of that one.” Aaron picked up his device, inspecting the dents and damages. It’s glass window had shattered and the turning piece inside had fallen. Aaron quickly scoured the ground where the rusted metal lay, finding it glint in the last rays of the evening before they turned crimson with the clouds. Aaron tired to put the piece back into the device but it wouldn’t fit anymore and put it in his pocket to give back later.

Laying in the hay, Aaron spun the little crystalline core, pondering how he’d explain the whole thing. It was worth even more than the coins he already gave... Aaron heard footsteps. Some part wondered if was the man, or not, and got up to see who it was; before hiding quickly as it’s someone else. Slowly leaning back, Aaron felt the panic and the anxiety building behind whatever wall of sanity that held him together. Looking back at the shoddy ceiling, Aaron let himself loosen his cheeks into a floundering frown. Aaron pondered it deeply, frightened. He couldn’t replace what was broken, nor explain that he lost it; that some kids broke it. Every attempt to answer the queries he fathomed, came up with lies and taller tales until Aaron could not hold it together and knew that he could not bring himself to show face.

Aaron lifted himself from the hay, and made the slow and long walk home to his last teleporter location, or anywhere he could find to drop his water for the time being. Running from his fears, again. In the distance, as Aaron walked away he could hear a joyous man cry out. “Hey kid, you wouldn’t believe it...” The voice called, cutting deep into Aaron’s heart as he spoke. “Happiest I’ve been in years. It seems like things finally went well for me... You’re not here yet are you?... Come on, I’m here to take you to Ahklamah, least you can do is show up. I don’t want to stick around any longer than I have to... You didn’t get up and staked by one of these loons in the village, did ya? I knew there was something odd about these folk.” Kicking some things around to find his device broken, “So, you are here...” But that chipper tone solemnly turned to a weary wallow, “Well, if it ain’t one thing, it’s another...” Aaron grit his teeth, angrily accepting his guilt, as justified, yet the man continued, “The world will take you for a loop, and give back nothing.” And tears streamed down Aaron’s face.

Wiping his nose, Aaron walked the bridge over his troubled streamed and sobbed into the running waters. “I’m worthless...” But he just wanted to say something to take the edge away. He stood there, alone, at the side of the crossroad, looking back towards home. “Guess it’s not just Stagalnia who see’s only what they want to see...” Thinking back on himself over the last couple of days, to what he said to Sophie, and to Zack, “You treat anyone like shit long enough, they fuck off... I guess... I’m just the same...” Walking the lonely road home.

As he walked back in the dusk of dwindling daylight, he slipped his cold hands into his pockets, feeling a large chunk of rock. He forgot something after all, and his arm gripped it with a blood curdling rage. He cocked his arm back, ready to discard it, feeling only more remorse stacking within him. He stood, rain drenching the flickering fire in his angered heart, and dropped his arms. The gem-like core of his loaner seemed to have a reaction, and he clenched it firmly. Guess it was his now. “Might even pay for the seven coins I lost...”; but in the end, they both lost. Aaron felt like a schmuck, and spoke a final word in the dark. “Guess I’ve been no better since the start... Actually”

Aaron returned home, feeling his dresser shake as he lifted himself up from his portal; praying it would fall on him to end his sorrow, or give him something to curse. In the fridge was a plate of leftovers with a sticky note to remind him of the obvious. As he returned for the stairs, he looked off to his father and their eyes met. A dreary sadness lingered in both of them, and in a moment of understanding, no words need been said; as one empathized the other, Aaron turned away and walked on by, leaving their sorrow to the silence of isolation.

At the end of his day, Aaron sat before his set, at the shallow forest’s edge. Seeing the shavings had slipped out of his floppy jar, and made squishy work of his agitator gems, Aaron falsely smiled, “At least I still have you.” He looked to the ample green spires he had tested it upon and surely they were solid once more. Aaron tucked them aside, and laid there in his tiny house of squalor until the sun faded entirely. The painful reminder of his failures rolled about in his pocket, and Aaron took to study it too. It seemed to rotate the air around it, like the core of an engine and Aaron set it aside. Somewhere, in his mind, something came to him, and his eyes lit up. Not that glimmering fiasco, I’m just saying he got excited. Beside him, inspiration took hold, but without the tools to make it happen, all he could do was dream about when he could test what he had discovered. At last, he understood what to do with his gems, and he dreamed about the days to come. All the pieces were falling into place.

Of course, this would all be simple, given even, innately... if only he could reach the legendary Ahklama. It was all on him, trading off one sorrow for another, just like Zack had told him. The city seemed ever evading, and Aaron remorsed his failures to follow through with it. In the evening air, a haunting echo of Aaron’s memory came to light, recounting a segment of Simon’s words calling back to him: ‘The road will open to those who want it.’ And in truth, despite the pride he refused to get over, Aaron truly wanted the road he found... At the time.