Iot, it thought, and the pleasure of the revelation made its entire substance ripple with delight. My name was Iot. My name is Iot. I am Iot. Iot is my name.

For a long while, the specter of what had been Iot just repeated its name to itself. Iot, Iot, Iot, it said to itself, and with every repetition, it felt stronger and more solid. More real. For so many decades, its existence had felt so precariously unreal, like a dream that never ends, that simply having a name to call itself felt exquisitely good. I am Iot. Iot is my name. My name is Iot. Over and over.

When at last this pleasure began to pale, it added details from its recently retrieved memories. I am Iot and I had a family. We lived on a farm between the river and the mountain hills. I had brothers and sisters, aunties and uncles, a mother and a father. They were all real people too. Finally, I knew who I am. I know which dream belongs to me. I know that at one point, I was a real, living person.

Before the coming of the mysterious star, Iot’s shade realized now, it had never known. It had existed without an identity and without a past, two things the living took so much for granted that they could not even imagine what it would be like to be without them.

It had never known, before now, which of the countless sets of memories and emotions embedded within its substance were its own. So much feeding and so much forgetting had robbed it of that knowledge. Now it knew for certain : it was Iot, and once it had been a little boy fishing by the river, and there it had met a little girl who had lost her doll.

There was something special about that girl. Iot’s shade could feel it. It would meet her again. It knew it. And the feeling it got from memories of her was so overwhelming pleasurable that it knew they had to be connected in some very deep way. It could hardly wait to find out how.

But no, now was not the time to be impatient. Everything it wanted would come in time, as long as it was careful. Tenderly, it inspected the delicate connections it had made to the mysterious star and its companion. With infinite care, it made slight adjustments to the filaments it had used to enter their minds, and probed just a little deeper.

As it did this, it knew that it was bringing the great dark shadow closer. This was the dark shadow that would either free Iot’s shade, or destroy it, or condemn it to Hell. The more it learned, the closer it was to its final reckoning, the one it had so long delayed and denied itself out of fear. Instead had been the cold, and the loneliness, and the forgetting.

Well no more. Before the sun rose and woke its two dreamers, it would face its own great shadow, and it could see right now that the shadow it had to face and the much greater and darker one that the two dreamers would face in the future were similar in nature, and that is why the power of the two is what Iot’s shade needs to propel it towards its own destiny.

Knowing this, Iot’s shade suddenly felt humbled and grateful that this greater destiny included its own. To think that the forces of fate would include a lost spirit like Iot’s shade into its plans at all made it feel very small, and overwhelmed it with humility and gratitude.

This feeling spilled over into affection for the two dreamers who would vouchsafe its deliverance, and Iot’s shade turned its ethereal gaze on them with great love and great wonder. To think that this two young man, not long out of boyhood themselves, had great and terrible things in their futures. They seemed so simple, so young, so innocent. Their desires were the simple desires of the young. New lives, new adventures, new challenges. The instinct for growth that is the root of courage. The inborn need to become more than you are. Iot’s shade cherished these things as he felt them in the dreamer’s minds, and for a moment, wept ghostly tears for the innocence that fate would surely destroy within them both.

But such was the fate of those chosen by destiny. Heroes and villains both might end up in the songs of the bards forever, but their lives were seldom pleasant or easy for long.

Besides, the night was only so long, and Iot’s shade still had much to do before the sun’s rising. It looked over the dreamers with great affection, and said each name to itself once to place them firmly within its mind.

Trevor. Pep. These are the ones to whom it owed everything. For however long it continued to exist, it would cherish those names and those memories.

With this firmly in its mind, Iot’s shade closed its ghostly eyes, and rejoined the dreaming.

“It is well dark, my son. ” said Trevor’s father Ogar. “You were told to always be home before the sun touched the mountain’s peak. It is not like you to have to be told something twice. ”

Togar (the future Trevor) flinched and bowed his head, his enthusiastic mood burst like a bubble and his desire to tell his parents all that had happened to him today dying faster than a doused ember. He had known that he would be in trouble when he got home, it being nearly Full Dark, but somehow he had thought it would be his other Roga who would be recriminating him, and she would just box his ear and tell him he was a worthless fool for worrying her so and maybe pinch him, but then she would hug him and call him a fool again, then give him hot broth for supper.

He had even thought that perhaps it would be his older brothers, in their role as his mother’s enforcers, who would be punishing him. And he was prepared for that, although his brothers were quite creative when it came to meting out pain with their mother’s blessing.

But he had never once considered that it would be his father who would be there when he got back. He viewed his father with an equal mix of affection, awe, and outright terror. His father was a great dark presence in his life, and as far as Togar was concerned, the sun only rose and set because his father allowed it. The world belonged to Ogar. Everyone else just lived there.

Togar resisted the urge to throw himself to the floor and beg forgiveness, or run off into the mountains and never come back, and instead stood tall, looked his father in the eyes (almost), and solemnly said “I am sorry, Father. I offer no excuses. What I did was wrong, and I stand ready to accept whatever punishment you see fit. ”

Ogar nodded in approval, and said “Good. You at least remember how to accept your fate with honour. But tell me, my son. What was it that kept you so far from home for so long?”

Togar lowered his head again, unable to endure his father’s disapproving gaze. “It was a quest of my own, Father. No one in the settlement would tell me what lay below us on the mountain, so I decided that I would go find out for myself, and then come back here to tell everyone. And then… and then everyone would know what was down there!” Said like that, with his father glaring down at him, it did not sound so noble or brave.

“And did any of the people you asked express any desire for you to go on this quest for them?”

“Well… no… but I just figured that… ”

“And do you know why that is, my beloved son, the one I chose to bear my name in his own?”

Togar began to say something, but stopped, and simply said “No Father, I don’t. ”

“It is because they already know what is there, my son. You were right to say they would not tell you. They all know, and none would tell you, because such knowledge is forbidden to children like yourself. ” Ogar put just enough emphasis on the word “children” to make it clear to Togar that he was being put gently but firmly in his place.

A terrible thought occurred then to Togar. “So you mean that if I…. ”

Ogar nodded solemnly. “Yes, my chosen son. If you had simply waited till your New Moon Hunt, all would have been revealed. But always, it has been your curiosity that has lead you astray. ”

Togar nodded miserably. It was true. He was a very obedient and loyal son. It was not by accident that the gods had instructed his father to choose Togar as the son to bear his name. But looking back, those times when he had disobeyed or disappointed his father, it had been because his desire to learn things was too strong for him to control.

He really was an idiot, a fool, and a terrible son. Why had he thought that his own curiosity was more important that his loyalty to his family, his settlement, and his home? What was this madness that made him grow restless and need to seek out new things to learn? Unbidden, tears fell from his eyes. He had never been more miserable in his life. He could not even open his mouth to apologize.

Ignoring the tears, Ogar put a hand on Togar’s shoulder. “But do not despair, my son. I have thought long and hard about what to do with you, my chosen son. And I have had long talks with the elders as well. And we have come to a decision. ”

Togar shrank inside still more. He was such a bad son that he had caused his father to worry for a long time, and his shame was known to the elders as well. He wondered, did the whole village think of him as that strange boy Togar?

He knew what was expected of him now, at least.

“And what is that decision, Father?” he asked dutifully.

“That it is time you went to live with our Chieftain. You are to report to his tent tomorrow morning. Now get yourself to bed. I will not have you disgracing the family by showing up with red eyes. ”

Togar gaped up at his father. The Chieftain? But he was just a weird old man who did strange things and lived the Old Way. You hardly ever saw him except for at ceremonial occasions. He didn’t even hunt or fish or herd. People just left food outside his hut. What could the Chieftain possibly want with Togar?

Still, his father’s word was law. Togar headed to bed without his supper, and did his best to sleep.

But despite his best intentions, he lay a long time awake, staring at the stars through the hole cut in the roof for the smoke to get out, wondering what life had in store for him now.

“Fuck off, Pep. ” said Uncle Tip.

“Aw, that’s what you always say, Uncle Tip. But I’m bored and I want to DO something!” said Pep.

“That’s none of my concern, you little shit. Why are you always bothering me when I’m drinking. ” said Uncle Tip, pointedly taking a hearty swallow of the thick and fuzzy liquor his clan produced.

“Because you’re ALWAYS drinking. ” whined Pep. “And you’re my favorite uncle!”

“Bugger if I know why. ” said Tip. “All I ever do is tell you to fuck off. ”

“That’s not true, that’s not true!” insisted Pep. “Sometimes you give me something to do in order to get rid of me. Nobody else does that!”

“You have a point, Runt. I must be getting soft hearted in my old age. Time was, I would have told you to fuck off with the end of my boot up your arse and laughed the whole while, like a real Tassie. Now I can barely work up the ire to tell you to fuck off with my mouth. I always knew that my kind soul and gentle heart would be my downfall one day. I just never thought it would come in the form of a pint sized demon child plaguing me with questions and demands all the long bloody day. Ah well, it’s a fool that feeds a foal unless he wants a pet for life, they say. Say, why aren’t you with your Gram right now?”

“She’s got a gentleman caller in, and he paid for the whole day, so I can’t go back til tomorrow. She said this one smells rich and she is going to go all out to insure repeat custom. ” said Pep.

“Oh, right. ” said Uncle Tip, eyes glazing over with sudden nostalgia. “I remember when I had one of your Gram’s full days after a grand day at the bug track. Gawd, but she has an imagination and a will to please. I couldn’t walk a straight line for days after. No wonder she didn’t want a little shit like you hanging around creeping out the customers. It’s a wonder I don’t see you more often, then. ”

“Sometimes she lets me stay!” objected Pep. “I just have to stay in the attic and not make any noise. But this time the old beggar saw me and wanted me out pronto, and Gram said I better leave before the old beggar got any idea, and so off I went and here I am. ”

“Yes, here you are, to plague me afresh. But that is just me, always ending up with other people’s problems dumped into my lap when I am just trying to enjoy a nice quiet drink. Why, just the other day, your mother was over here trying to cozy up to me to get my liquor. Me, of all people! With all this bad luck I’ve been having, and Dud’s still blowing up so I had to find someplace new to steal my medicine, and this bustitis of mine making all the joints on my left side burn like Bewel’s piss, and…

Pep listened eagerly to his Uncle Tip’s long and exhaustive litany of complaints, making sure to say “That’s too bad!” and “What a shame!” and such in the right places, and he meant it every time. It did not seem right to Pep that one person should suffer so much terrible misfortune, and always right when Uncle Tip was just about to get back on his feet and make a go of things again.

Plus, of course, he had already learned in his eight short years of life that if you got old people complaining and listened all the way till the end, they almost always gave you something. He was not sure why this was, but he figured old people have so much to complain about that most people got sick of hearing it, and so they needed a fresh audience all the time just to get through it all.

And what the hell, it wasn’t like Pep had a lot to do with his time, especially when Gram had a caller in.

When Tip was done, or at least exhausted, Pep risked asking a question. “Uncle Tip, why won’t anybody give me anything to do?”

Tip laughed. “To do? And just what can a worthless little runt like you do? You’re too small for most jobs, and you are too young and too stupid to know how to do anything, besides!”

“But how am I supposed to learn how to do anything if nobody will teach me anything?” protested Pep.

“I don’t know, plenty of ways! When I was your age, I didn’t go about moping and whining and bothering my elders. I learned everything by stealing and spying and copying and trying things out on my own, like any good member of the Tasselbar clan. Learning by asking is the skivvie thing, and you are a Tassie, kid, through and through, for all there is of you anyhow. And we don’t ask and we don’t learn from books and we don’t hang around bothering poor old men who just want to drink in peace with stupid questions!” He punctuated these last two words with violent gestures in Pep’s general direction with his liquor jug, causing the contents to slosh, gurgle, and mutter dangerously.

Pep knew he had pushed his luck too far now, and he had better skedaddle. But he would not be a true Tassie if he didn’t at least make one more try to get what he wanted despite ferocious odds.

“Well that’s just too bad, Old Uncle Tip, because with Gram in business, I got nothing to do all day but sit here bothering you and stealing your liquor when you aren’t looking!” said Pep. Where did I come up with that last bit, he wondered. He had tried a little of Tip’s liquor once and all it had done for him was make him piss and puke for a couple of hours. Stealing it had never even occurred to him before. But he had said it, and now he was stuck with it. Inspiration took strange forms some time.

“You would never! Mark my words, you filthy little demon, if you go taking my liquor and selling it down at Ollie’s, I will lock you in my pantry then sell your arse to the Ginners over in Clede.”

Pep didn’t know what a “ginner” was, exactly. He just knew they liked to “do things” to little boys and girls. He had no idea what “things” those might be, but they must be pretty bad, what with the way the adults said “things”. Still, he knew this was an idle threat. Clede was three days walk from here, and Uncle Tip hadn’t gone that far for decades.

He was going to remember that bit about selling liquor at Ollie’s though. He hadn’t even known that was possible until now. Uncle Tip always taught him something, sooner or later.

“Just watch me, old man!” said Pep. “The minute you pass out, I am going to find all your liquor and take it down to Ollie’s and when you wake up, there won’t be a drop in the house!”

Tip swore him up and down and sideways with all the vigor and color of his Tassie ancestry, then said “What is it going to take to get rid of you, you little shit?”

Pep had been waiting for this. “What’s this box?” he asked innocently, pointing to a quite fascinating looking box with a monster painted on front and a bunch of levers in back that he had noticed quite some time ago in Uncle Tip’s old hovel.

Uncle Tip snatched it up and peered at it with his weak old eyes, and after a few moments, he said “Oh this? This is my old spinner box. You push the levers and pretty music comes out. It goes over great with the skivvies, you put a hat down and play it and they put coins in the hat, just like that. Here, take it and get out of here. ” He thrust the box into Pep’s tiny hands so hard he bowled the boy over.

“So I just push any of these and music comes out?” said Pep as he got back to his feet and looked the strange box over. ”

“Yes, yes. Push the levers, pretty music, anyone can do it.” babbled Uncle Tip as he pushed Pep through the flap of leather that was the Tassie definition of “door”. “Take it down to Ollie’s and you will get more coins than you could ever get for my good liquor, that I stole with my own two hands and all!”

“OK, I’ll give it a go. ” yelled Pep at his Uncle Tip through the other side of the “door”, out on the street. “But if it doesn’t do what you say, you old drunk, I will be back for your liquor. ”

The formalities taken care of, Pep examined the mysterious “spinner box” carefully. It seemed harmless enough. He gingerly pushed down on one of the dozens of levers, and was so shocked by the horrible noise that resulted that he nearly dropped it.

“Don’t you start playing that godawful thing again, Tip!” shouted a neighbor. “I swear, if you wake the baby with that again, I will come over and smash your old bald head in with it!”

Clearly this was not a safe place to unlock the mysteries of this mysterious treasures. Pep racked his brain for someplace isolated enough that he would be left alone.

Then he decided to just wander out of town and find a likely spot. Down a gully somewhere, or up a hill. Someplace only farmers and other skivvies went, so he could find some peace and quiet to shatter.

And so Pep wandered out of town, and climbed a big hillock, and was just starting to get the hang of making the music sound not quite so bad when something caught his eye.

It was the biggest human being Pep had ever seen.