Aerigo: An Origins Tale

  *

  Bear had fallen asleep with the vision of all those stars. He still saw them when he woke but all understanding had left him. They were just stars and pretty clouds that weren’t clouds.

  He sat up on the sandy shore and felt his back. It was whole, dry and pain free. He felt like he’d just woken from the greatest night sleep he’d ever had.

  “Good morning, my young Aigis,” the voice who’d rescued Bear said.

  Bear turned towards the voice and saw a man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and goatee, and blue eyes paler than his own. The man wore only a strange pair of pants cut as short as breeches, and a brown belt. No tunic, no footwear, no armor or weapons. He had bruises all over his face, arms and torso, and his eyes were sunken with fatigue. “What happened to you?”

  “Ah, well it’s a rather embarrassing answer,” the man said, “but there’s no point in leaving you in the dark. My son and I haven’t been on very agreeable terms for the past thousand years. Thirty years ago I caught him... oh, gods, I still can’t believe what I saw.” He bowed his head, putting a hand over his eyes. “Him... and my wife... they—” He sighed, angry. “I don’t know what turned my son into the monster he is. Thirty years ago was the first time we ever fought like that. Things aren’t supposed to be like this.” He wiped a hand over his face and looked up again. “I need your help.”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name’s Baku,” he said with a smile. “I apologize, I know who you are but not what your name is.”

  “My friends—” He stopped himself, remembering he no longer had friends. “People used to call me Bear.”

  “That’s a nickname; not a name. What happened to your real name?”

  “I don’t remember it,” Bear confessed.

  Baku gave him a studious look, and then his brows raised with sudden knowing. “Ah, your parents abandoned you when you were five. Lovely. Durna wasn’t the smartest world to send you to.”

  “World?”

  “There are many worlds out there besides your own. I was in shock when I sent you to be born on Durna. Had I been thinking clearer, I would have sent you elsewhere.”

  “Are you my father?”

  Baku chuckled. “Goodness no. Your Creator yes. You’re my first ever Aigis. That man I can barely see in your memories will always be your father.” When Bear offered nothing but a blank stare, Baku said, “I’m a god. Whatever memories are yours I can make my own. It’s kind of like reading a book. Whatever’s in that book—your mind—I can read. If you don’t remember it, I can’t read it. Relax, my boy,” Baku said as Bear felt his eyes starting to glow. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  Bear still felt far from comfortable, much less relaxed. He pushed to his feet and took in his surroundings. The lake that had apparently healed him was cradled in a sea of lush, green tall grass that went up to his waist. Amid the grass, opposite the lake, rose a single tall mountain roughly shaped like a cone. The sky it pointed towards was a multitude of shimmering colors. Bear had never seen such a sky. There was no sun or stars; just ribbons of green, pink, gold and white light shimmering like flags on a windy day beneath a deep blue cloudless sky.

  “Okay, let’s start over,” Baku said. “You’re getting more confused with every heartbeat.”

  Bear looked at the man who claimed to be a god. “Where are we?”

  “I’ll get to that in a minute. First off, people call you Bear. No offense but that name doesn’t suit you at all.”

  Bear couldn’t help but agree. It was just a nickname, as Baku said.

  “What would you like to be called?”

  He drew a blank, the question catching him off-guard. He’d never had a choice in his name. People just slapped tags on him based on his appearance or apprenticeship. “Devil Eyes” when he was a child, “Giant” to the squat carpenter he’d apprenticed, “Ingle” to the blacksmith that took him in for a couple years, and then “Bear” when King Overonn hired him to help build his kingdom. Now that the choice was his, what did he want to be called? “I don’t know. Something that describes who I am. What’s an Aigis?”

  “Aigis means ‘shield of the gods.’ Is it safe to assume you’ve suspected that you’re not human, right?”

  “Am I a demon?”

  “Not at all. I’ll introduce you to other Aigis soon. They’ll be your true mentors. Please sit. Are you hungry?”

  Bear sat cross-legged in the sand, the mention of food making his stomach growl.

  Baku laughed. “Here’s some breakfast.” He waved a hand and a silver tray laden with eggs, biscuits, slabs of ham, a bowl of strawberry preserves, and a large pewter mug of a steaming liquid. “By the way, that’s an herbal drink called ‘tea.’ You might like it.”

  Bear snatched a slab of ham and ripped off a bite with his teeth. The meat was tender and sweetened with honey. He downed the rest of the slab in a second bite.

  “Aigis take on the role of guardian, taking care of the mortals gods have created. We can’t do such things ourselves because once a god has been endowed with the powers of a Creator, other powers are no longer available to them—that and giving mortals free will puts other restrictions on our powers as well. It’s simple really, but difficult to explain. You’ll understand better with time and training.”

  “Why would I want to take care of mortals who have tried to kill me?” Bear asked after swallowing his mouthful of biscuit.

  “A valid question,” Baku said. “While the Durnites are superstitious and rather compulsive, you’ve met kinder people, like that blacksmith who took you in as an apprentice.”

  It was true. The blacksmith had seen Bear’s eyes glow a handful of times. The first time had startled the man. Bear tried to leave but the blacksmith refused to easily let go of someone so talented with a hammer and anvil. It was the first time in his life his glowing eyes hadn’t induced hate after the initial fear subsided.

  “You’ll meet many more honest, compassionate people in the universe.”

  “You-verse?”

  “Universe. It’s—oh, some other time. Have you thought of a name for yourself yet?”

  Bear shook his head.

  “In that case I’ll call you Aerigo. It’s from an old language. It means ‘keeper of hope.’”

  The name felt perfect, fitting, even though he didn’t understand why it suited him. Aerigo repeated his name several times to himself. He looked up from his food tray to Baku’s tired face. “What hope am I keeping?”

  The old god gave him a warm smile. “I’ll explain that to you when you’re ready for the task. It’s related to my less-than-whole appearance.”

  “Why don’t you go back in your lake?”

  “Oh I will, but I’m a god, not a mortal. Getting rid of these bruises will be more of a mental task than giving myself time to physically heal. The lake will help, but at a much slower rate than it healed you. But enough of my injuries. Hurry up and finish your breakfast, Aerigo, so I can introduce you to an Aigis who’ll start your training.”

  Aerigo was about to try a sip of the tea but he placed the mug back on the tray. “Why would I want to train for another job I’ll just be forced to run away from one day?”

  Baku spoke without a hint of unhappiness. “My boy, this is the job you were born to do. You’ve been protecting people since you were old enough to work with a hammer and anvil. Think of the two thankless men you saved from the falling redwood tree. You reflexively acted to save their lives, instead of just your own. You have always been a shield to the mortal realm. The training I want you to undergo will place you among people who understand the concept of gratitude. These people will revere you as a hero or savior for protecting them from dragons, demons, foes and the likes.”

  The thought of a crowd full of smiling people chanting Aerigo’s real name, instead of an angry mob throwing rocks and curses at him sounded quite appealing. He didn’t want fame, though, just to be liked, his company wanted, and to have people not fear h
im. “I’ll train.”