Chapter Text
It wasn’t an eventful day when Eret decided they wanted to learn to read. It was more of an intriguing idea, but unlike most of their ideas, this one was possible. The problem they ran into was how to start. Their village was traditional. Eret wasn’t even sure it could be considered traditional-- it was just more simple, and the outside world didn’t interact with it often. The adults ran the village, and trading and stories were told orally. There weren’t any real uses for reading if you didn’t plan to leave the village. And nobody planned to leave the village. If you lived there, it was your final hope. The village was home to a lot of people, but nobody ever chose to live there. It was safe because it was hidden, and that was a godsend to everyone living there. At least, it was 30 years ago. Now, most of the people who originally moved were older, and in charge, and had forgotten what the outside world was like or why they left it in the first place. But Eret knew. They were the only newcomer in ages, and they remembered the outside world, and why they were there. It was because familiars were nothing but trouble.
Eret knew the basics of the familiar system, having heard it when they were young, but some of the more complicated details were lost on them. Everyone had a familiar. It could be any kind of creature, but some were more common than others. Everyone also had a Mark. Every Mark was unique to each person and familiar-- the one thing they shared. Finally, the Mark told the person what kind of creature their familiar was. Some people found their familiars quickly. Some spent their entire lives searching. Eret hadn’t tried to search at all. Because familiars were nothing but trouble.
Eret’s grandmother had told them why their parents gave them up when they were old enough to understand, around eight. Eret had a Mark, and it wasn’t a Mark that their parents liked.
“They were afraid you would get hurt,” their grandmother said, trying to help them understand. “And they were afraid because of you, they would get hurt too. And they decided that avoiding being hurt was better than being a parent.” There was a tone of bitterness in her voice, now that Eret recalled it, although they hadn’t noticed at the time. It only made them respect her more. They respected her, and loved her, and lived with her, until the day she died. And she did die. Because familiars were nothing but trouble.
They were looking for Eret. They were looking for the mark on Eret’s left ankle, the one that plagued Eret every day. And Eret’s grandmother had refused to give them up, and They said that she was making a mistake. And then she had died. Eret ran, and they ended up in a little village that wouldn’t tell Them anything. Because familiars were nothing but trouble, and they knew firsthand.
And now Eret wanted to learn to read. They were sure that figuring it out wouldn’t be the hard part. The hard part would be finding someone who both had something to read, and was willing to teach Eret to read. Most of them believed that reading was nothing but trouble, because it was something from the outside, and the outside was familiars, and familiars were nothing but trouble. Eret didn’t think everything from the outside could be bad. But everybody they knew disagreed.
They didn’t find someone. Not through weeks of carefully asked questions to gauge reactions, not through casual “hey, what if we learned to read” queries slipped into conversation, not through direct questions-- “do you have any books?” Eret could have given up on the idea. They gave up on a lot of ideas, but that was necessary when you just had so many. This one was stuck in their head. Eret convinced themself that it was just because they had spent so much time on it-- they couldn’t stop now! But in the back of their head, they knew they wanted something else. Something they weren’t ready to think about at all.
It was only a month later when Eret really started considering it. They could go outside. There was bound to be something outside that could show them to read, someone that would take pity on them. They might even be able to do it without telling the other people in the village, if they were careful. Eret wasn’t sure what would happen if they were caught. They pushed that thought to the back of their mind.
It was only a week later when Eret packed a bag. They didn’t want to stay outside for more than a day, but they had decided to err on the side of caution, and packed food and supplies for three nights in the cold woods. Eret really hoped it wouldn’t come to that, and that they would be back in their own bed by the next night. It was just a day trip. It would be a very unpleasant surprise for it to be an overnight trip.
It was only 5 minutes later when Eret realized they hadn’t fully thought this through. The village was miles away from any “outside” that could teach them to read. Eret was reasonably athletic, but they weren’t sure how fast and how far they could really go. They weren’t sure how long their tracks were covered for, either. That part of the plan was hastily thought up and not particularly well executed, and Eret was a little bit worried. They were more than a little bit worried, but they had other pressing issues on their mind.
It was a perfect crossroads. They could return, and try this again tomorrow, or even just forget about it and return to a normal life in the village. Or they could keep moving, with not even a faint idea of what lay ahead, just to learn to read, in hopes that it would lead them to something else. Logically, Eret knew it would be better to try again another day. But they couldn’t help it. They broke into a jog. The faster they went, the sooner they would get somewhere. Somewhere. Anywhere at all.