The Chronicles of Amon book 2 The Sea of Marmara

  Chapter 8.

  1.

  “Mama died tonight. I found her sitting outside the cave entrance. Her hands were folded in her lap. Her head was leaning back against the wall. Her eyes were closed. She was smiling.

  “I saw it in her yesterday when we buried Papa. It was right for them to go together. I miss them”

  Aaron’s eyes teared up as he read. His heart felt like it was about to break. The anxiety he had felt had receded. The confusion was gone. Now all he felt was profound sorrow, mixed with all-consuming happiness.

  The memories began to flow. The swaying of the nest. The gentle warm caresses. The musky scent of thick fur. The satisfying taste of warm breast milk.

  Then he knew. These were his memories. These were his feelings. They were as much a part of him as the all-consuming apprehension had been only moments before. He continued to read:

  “The young ones still sleep inside, close to the fire. I will spare them the hurt this night. I will let them sleep until morning. For tonight I will share my grief with Sara my mate. Tomorrow we will bury Mama next to Papa. Then we will move away from this place.”

  Fir? Breast milk? How far back had he gone? The file had no date attached to it, so there was no way of knowing when it had been written. He did recognize how different the writing style was. It seemed to be something that had been written by a child. The words were direct, to the point. The sentence structure was simplistic, as though the person who wrote it had a very limited vocabulary.

  “Was that person really me?” Aaron said to himself, and to the cat nestled on his lap. More questions. Not enough answers. He closed the file and opened the next one.

  2.

  Leaving

  “We have travelled six days now. Nahm came back this morning. He says there is food and water for many days ahead. He is tired from his journey, so we will stop for him to rest. Tomorrow Eff, our son, will go in his place. Nera (Amon’s mate) and Sara will care for our new baby girl Payah.

  “The others say not to go more. Amon says we must rest for a time. I’m not sure what to do next. I asked Asha. She did not give an answer. She says come with her for a short time. I will go with her tonight when everyone is asleep. I will hide this thing in the ground before I go.”

  The next file showed a marked change in writing style.

  3.

  “I’ve been back now for a few days. I was with Asha and the others for many days. But When I returned here, nothing had changed. My family was still sleeping. The machine was still buried where I left it. Asha explained that this would happen, but I don’t understand at all. How is it possible to leave for many days and yet return at the same time I left. It seems that the more I learn, the more there is that I don’t understand.

  “While I was there I learned many more new things about how to speak and write, but Asha says I must be careful not to show my new skills to anyone here. She says that my people must evolve naturally, that I should not interfere. But how is this possible if I remain among them? I am not strong enough to hide myself from them forever.

  “Asha says I will not go with her again for a very long time, but that I can speak with her using this machine which she calls a ‘transceiver.’ She says I must never let anyone see me using it. She says if I let others see me, she will take it away and I will not see her again, ever. I think I understand, but I’m not sure.

  “When I speak into this box, marks come on it. When I stop speaking, they stop coming. Sometimes Asha answers. I can see her face, but not her really. She says it is called an ‘image.’ Sometimes it doesn’t work. I don’t understand.

  “Tomorrow will be the same except for me. I know more now. I must learn how to lead without pushing, to encourage others to the fore. If I must lead, it must be from behind. My presence must be felt, but not seen. This is my challenge. This is my joy. This is my sorrow. This is my life.