The Sanctuary

5. Aaron

Of all the Forgiven, Aaron seems to be the friendliest. He likes to greet newcomers as soon as he can, speaks with only the most polite tone, and is always very eager to help. For the naive and inexperienced traveller, he is a welcome sight for lonely and tiresome eyes, the face of another human being in a generally inhuman world. But not for you. I would hope that you'd know better by now.

"Hey! I'm Aaron. It's nice to meet you!"

It's always the same introduction, no matter the context of the situation. Every single time.

"Do you have any extra food? I'm starving."

He'll chuckle. Some find it comforting upon arrival, a sign of humour and personality behind the mystery of a new friend. A sign of life. This only lasts the first time a traveller meets Aaron. His laugh only grows more hollow and pained every time after that.

Once he's made his inquiry, he will be able to hold an intelligent and dynamic conversation. The barrier of his manners, developed in a long forgotten world and never more unnecessarily out of place than in this one, will no longer hinder his ability to react to your words and actions. You are under no obligation to interact with him, but no matter what you do, he will follow you loyally until dusk. However, your silence does not guarantee his, and many would genuinely recommend engaging in at least the bare minimum of small talk. Human interaction is minimal in The Sanctuary, and as a new traveller without any connections to surviving relics such as myself, you should take advantage of the opportunity as it arises, regardless of how superficial it may actually be.

If you do speak, remember to choose your words carefully. You are not alone in this conversation.

Aaron's undying desire to help can be a useful tool in critical situations. He is, of course, prone to error, and may not always succeed at assigned tasks, yet even among his family, Aaron is unique in this way. The Sanctuary does not often provide travellers with assistance, so try to make the most of this interaction. Until sunset, Aaron is a part of your team, and is more than willing to pull his weight.

Throughout your time together, he will remind you of his hunger. Pained noises will come from his empty stomach, laughed off by the inexplicably positive man as he mutters something about going days without food or perhaps a meal his father used to make in his childhood. He will make his request again. There is no point in feeding him. Gracious as ever, Aaron accepts all offerings of excess rations, but you will never see him eat them. And he certainly will not help himself to any prizes won in a forage through nature, nor from a hunt of what little edible wildlife exist in this realm; that is The Sanctuary's food, and he would not dare eat more than he is allowed.

As the afternoon passes by, his complaints will become more frequent, his fatigue more and more evident. His kind radiance will never falter, but it will noticeably dim, and he will stubbornly struggle with any tasks you provide. Do not mistake this behaviour for a lie. Aaron is truly very hungry, and when the exhaustion gives way to desperation, you do not want to watch his manners fall.

There will be a specific moment when you notice the change in lighting. I cannot predict what it will look like, but it will be clear, consuming your thoughts in an overwhelming rush of instinct. The sun has set, dusk has arrived, and your time with Aaron must now come to an end.

You will need some sort of excuse to split from the now physically drained man that accompanies you. It does not have to be perfect, but you must give a reason. Maybe you wish to travel through the night, which Aaron is in clearly no state to do. Or maybe you had different destinations all along; you deeply believe you could find some answers to your perpetual question of an existence at The Glass Lake. Or you've encountered a creature in this area that seems to be attracted to heat, and the two of you resting in one place would only double your chances of being smothered in the night. So long as you give some form of apologies and explanation, Aaron will not argue. In fact, he may even seem relieved. Perhaps he actually grew to like you during the day.

Thus, when asked, Aaron will leave. He will walk away slowly, down a beaten path or a fork in the road, sometimes directly through the thick brush of an uncharted forest. He will not look back. But you must stay, and watch. Wait until he disappears completely from your sight.

Then run.

Sprint as fast as you can in your best attempt at the opposite direction. When presented with a turn, take it. Your bearings do not matter anymore. Wandering is a surprisingly effective strategy for locating landmarks, and you can do so in the morning, if you manage to survive until then.

The soreness, cramps and general pain of running for extended periods of time will set in eventually, regardless of how comfortable you are with evasive sprinting on the unpredictable terrain of The Sanctuary. Keep going. The agony that awaits those who stop running is so much worse.

You will know you are safe when you can see the moon again. Do not stop moving to look for it. If you have to search, it is not there. Be sure you are certain of its presence before you let your mind and body rest, and take the time to set up your typical arrangements for the night. Your safety is definitely not guaranteed from the rest of the world's dangers, but the moon's appearance is The Sanctuary's version of a half-hearted congratulations. You've won. This time.

In all likelihood, you will see Aaron again. He will greet you each time, with the exact same introduction, and the exact same request.

"Hey! I'm Aaron. It's nice to meet you!"

"Do you have any extra food? I'm starving."

He will laugh that haunting, decaying laugh, and then he will be an eager asset until you force your exit at dusk. Yet each time, it will take longer for the moon to appear as you run across the varying landscape, and each time it becomes slightly more likely that Aaron catches up to you. If he ever does, there is no easy way out. I have no tips or tricks for how to kill a hunger-crazed attacker. I only hope you do not underestimate the strength of the desperately starved, and the power of The Sanctuary itself. Please do not worry about Aaron. Should you have to murder your former and temporary acquaintance, it will only make it more terrifying when you hear his greeting the next time. He does not need your pity or concern. Save it for yourself, in case you ever lose the battle.

For after all, Aaron is hungry. And as a child of this reality, his definition of food is very different from that of your own. Unless you do not plan on making further use of any specific body part or inner organ, you would have been lying if you had told him you had extra food to spare. If he catches up to you, he will feast anyways, and The Sanctuary will watch.

The trusting never get a chance to run, and the hesitant start too late. If you've been paying attention at all to my words, you will hopefully live to see the morning, for you will have been ready to make an escape since he first introduced himself.

Aaron may be his name, but it does not belong to him. Not anymore, at least. Nothing belongs to him, not since he forfeited his existence to the powers at play long ago. The man named Aaron does not truly exist. There is only The Sanctuary, and eventually, you will no longer be able to outrun it.