Aberlin’s Gift
The village children, all but Marino, who was timid and sat in their mother’s lap at the side of the great room, gathered around Grandma Lensia, getting as close as they could to her chair without actually climbing into the fire.
It was just a day before Long Night and the Festival day that followed. By long tradition, the story of Aberlin the Muse was recited for the children in Festival season. Festival was the highlight of the whole year; houses were decorated with evergreen boughs, extra candles and lanterns were set out, the village gathered for the day-long celebration and feast, and of course there was the visit from Kaeling at midnight on Long Night. Kaeling was the gift-giver, dressed in furs and with a grinning mask covering his face, he arrived on skis towing a sled full of gifts. Gifts from Kaeling were always for children. The adults in the village also received gifts, but from friends and families.
“Gather close, children. Mind the fire. That’s all right Merina, sit in your mama’s lap if you need to. Devan, settle down.”
“This is the story of Aberlin the muse. When people need a new idea they do a chant for Aberlin and hope he will hear them and answer.”
“Yes Pago, hunters do a different chant. But is an idea what a hunter needs? Yes, that’s right Mikin, a hunter needs a deer, or at least a trail. “
“Yes, that’s true Brindel, Aberlin is not the only muse. He cares most about ideas that make things work, like gates or mills or wagons. There are other muses who care about songs and paintings. I have heard of a muse who cares about boats and ships. But this story is about Aberlin. “
“Does anyone know the chant for Aberlin? Good…no, I don’t need to hear it Chali. I just want to know the other name in the chant; do you remember it? That’s right, Quintus. This story is about Quintus too.”
“Quintus was Aberlin’s best friend long ago, when they were boys. They lived in a village like our village, and in those days there were only a few ideas in the world. There were no muses in those days to help ideas to visit — you could hope an idea might visit you, but there were no muses to chant to and no one to ask for help.”
“Just as it is now, people saw those tiny lights pass by. They were called idea lights even then. You might see them in the sky, maybe in the water, or even in the forest. Like fireflies, they are, tiny lights in the night.”
“Yes Devan, they pass by in the day as well, but they are harder to see. Can you think why that should be? Ah, the light of the sun, you are right. Our eyes are drawn to tiny lights only in the darkness.”
“How many of you have seen an idea light? You have seen one, Merina? On festival night! How wonderful! Now, the Long Night festival is part of Aberlin’s story too. It all began when the harvest was over and the leaves had fallen from the trees. It was the same time of year it is just now. And what are you all thinking about? Yes, the festival, and getting everything ready for Kaelin to visit on the Long Night with gifts for all of you.”
“Aberlin and Quintus were getting ready too. They were boys, but a bit older than any of you. Old enough to want to give each other a gift at the festival, the way the grownups do. Quintus was learning to be a carpenter, just like his father, and I’m sure he was building something for Aberlin. Aberlin was a good trapper, and he might have thought about giving Quintus some pelts, or even stitching them together into a hat or a coat for his friend. But Aberlin wasn’t happy with that; he wanted to give Quintus something else. “
“There was a gypsy camp a morning’s walk away. In those days the world was more dangerous, you know, and people traveled together to keep each other safe. Aberlin found some other people from the village who wanted to visit the gypsies and together they left the next morning. People visited the gypsies before festival time to trade for gifts to give to their friends and their family. The gypsies traveled everywhere, just as they do now, and they carried rare and wonderful things to trade and sell.”
“Has anyone received a gift that came from far away? Oh, Charla, that’s a lovely bracelet – it came from Lemuria? How exciting! And Tont, you have a flute at home that came from Avica? Are you learning to play it? How nice that is; perhaps you could play for us all some day. “
“Aberlin and his friends visited the gypsy camp that morning, and when they got there Aberlin looked for a gypsy old enough and wise enough to answer his question. He knew that the gypsies traded in answers just the same as anything else, and for the exchange he had brought a sack with some of the furs from his traps and a wooden box he had made himself. He looked around the gypsy camp for a long time, while everyone else from the village was trading for this and that. Maybe someone found a bracelet like Charla’s, or a flute like the one Tont got.”
“The gypsies live in wagons, you know. They paint them with beautiful bright colors and designs. The wagons are their houses, and when they travel from one camp to another they bring their houses with them.”
“Yes, Lem, that is a good idea.”
“No, Pago, I don’t think anybody can just join. The gypsies are their own people; it’s not the same as a craft or a guild.
“Devan, I’m not sure. You may ask the gypsies yourself someday. But children, be still or I will never finish the story.”
“Aberlin looked around the gypsy camp for a long time, and finally he found a wagon that looked like it might be the oldest one. And sitting by a fire outside that wagon was an old woman who looked to Aberlin like she might have the answer to his question. So he approached her, and told her he had some goods to trade, and told her what he wanted was the answer to a question. The old woman told him that she would answer his question, if she could, and afterward he could give her what he thought the answer was worth.”
“Aberlin sat down next to the old woman, by her little fire. He saw she was cooking something in a small pot, and saw that even though she was old, her hands were steady and her eyes, when she looked at him, were sharp and clear.”
“He told her he wanted to give his friend a gift for festival, and the gift he wanted to give was an idea. And he asked his question, which was how to attract one of the idea lights and keep it long enough to give it.”
“The old woman was quiet for so long that Aberlin was about to say something else. But then she spoke. ‘The tiny lights you see moving through the forest, and across the sky, and through the walls of your houses. These are what you say are ideas?’”
“‘Yes, and everyone knows there are only so many of them. They visit people, sometimes, and deliver new ideas to them.’”
“‘And you learned this in your village?’”
“‘Yes, everyone knows this, and the other villages as well. There are many tales about visitations from the lights.’”
“‘In these tales does anyone capture the light?’”
“‘No, there is no tale that tells of such a thing; no tale I have heard.’”
“‘Then you have your answer. What payment you choose, leave it by the fire.’”
“The old woman arose, and using an iron hook to carry her cooking pot, went into her wagon and shut the door. Aberlin sat for many minutes, unsure what to do. Then finally he stood, and carefully placed everything he had brought next to the fire. Then Aberlin left and when the others in his party were ready, they returned to their village. On the way Aberlin thought he saw two idea lights floating through the forest, some distance away from the path, but he didn’t call out to show them to the others.”
“And that is the end of the story of Aberlin the Muse.”
The group of children erupted in chatter, mostly questions.
Grandma Lensia sighed and began to answer them. It was always the same after the story. Yes, Aberlin is the bringer of ideas. Yes, he did give Quintus an idea for Festival. He also gave Quintus a fur hat he had made. No, we do not pray to Aberlin. No, Aberlin is not one of the lights we see sometimes. Yes, ideas have come to me and yes, Aberlin did have something to do with it.
It went on for some time before other things attracted the children’s interests and they chattered off. Even Merina jumped down from her mother’s lap to play; it had really been Grandma Lensia she felt shy about.
Merina’s mother lingered for a few moments.
“I remember listening to that tale when I was a girl. I never understood it.”
Grandma Lensia cocked her head. “Lindel, have ideas never come to you?”
“No, never,” said Lindel. “There is nothing special about me to bring the lights near.”
“You have not thought upon the story of Aberlin?”
“No, I had forgotten it, in truth.”
“Ah well, it is but a story. Tell me Lindel, the cakes you make are the best in the village. Will you bring your cakes to Festival this year?”
“Of course,” Lindel smiled, “I must – everyone asks for them.”
“As they should; your cakes have a special flavor all their own. No one else knows how you give them that taste. How do you do it?”
“I just…tried something one day.”
