Stars over Stephensville: A Myth of the Dying God

Chapter 1: Lost in the Swamp

Deep in the southernmost reaches of Georgia lies the great Okefenokee swamp, the largest blackwater swamp in the country. It earns that title because the freshwater rivers that emerge within it and flow through it are dark amber, like southern sweet tea. It covers well over four hundred thousand acres, all shrouded in dim earthy brown and deep green light by cypress trees and evergreen oaks, longleaf pines and swamp tupelos. It is the home of tall wading birds, fat, lazy alligators, too many frogs to even think about counting, and even the occasional panther or black bear. The swamp seems to exist in a time apart, forgotten by the rush of modern life, keeping its own, slow pace as the years come and go.

The name "Okefenokee" comes from an old Creek word that means "land of trembling earth," or just "bubbling water." There have been people living there for over four thousand years, though it was always a hard and dangerous life among the gators, bears, wolves and "tigers" as the panthers were called, but today most folk are just visiting, just passing through. The main entrance lies just south of Waycross, Georgia, the biggest city in the biggest county in the biggest state east of the Mississippi, a distinction somewhat at odds with the actual appearance of the city of Waycross, population not quite 15,000. Visitors to the park are welcome to camp and hike among the trees or take canoes through the dark waters, and sometimes they catch a glimpse of how life used to be.

A young man walked among these trees, his feet aimless, his mind turned in on itself. He was tall for his age, but had not yet filled out to manhood. He had reddish brown hair, green eyes, and his cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles. He watched his feet shuffle through the dirt, mud, and withered old leaves and paid no attention at all to the direction he was taking.

He's really gone, he thought, for perhaps the tenth time since he had wandered off from his family. He's never coming back.

Aiden's father had been a kind and gentle soul. Aiden had loved him deeply. All he ever wanted was to make his father proud. Everything Aiden did, he did because he knew his father would like it. Everything he was good at, his father had been too. Everything his father loved, everything he hated, Aiden had sought to love and hate as well. His father had been extremely well-known and well-liked in their little town. Everyone seemed to know him and no one ever had anything negative to say about him. In his mind, Aiden thought of himself first as his father's son, and so did most other people. But all that was now gone.

Aiden had been popular once, too, not so long ago. He had been friendly to everyone, quick with a joke, and was a great dancer. But then his father had died, and so quickly. First the odd symptoms, then the diagnosis, then the sudden drop off of his physical and mental abilities, and then his death, all within just a few months' time. The world had lost all meaning. Aiden had become depressed and angry, and then he had started driving away all his friends. It hadn't taken much, just a few curt words here and there, and suddenly he was alone. Now he was known as the brooding kid who was angry at everyone. That wasn't who his father had been; it wasn't who Aiden had been. So who was he now? What reason did he have to go on?

A splash let Aiden know that he had wandered off the trail. He looked up. Where had his mother and siblings gone? "Mom?" he called out. There was no answer. With a sigh he turned around to walk back down the trail toward where he had last seen his family. But there was no trail. "Mom!" he called again. "Mason! Natalie!" But the only sounds he heard in response were frogs and insects and birds. He continued walking in what he guessed was the right direction, calling out and waiting for a response, but nothing changed. The minutes ticked away, and still he saw and heard nothing of his family.

Oh God, Aiden thought to himself. This is really getting serious. He called out again, "Mason! Mom! Dad! Natalie!" With a shock of pain Aiden realized that he had called out to his father, but there was still no response. He looked at his phone. There was no signal and his battery was almost drained. For the first time, a real sense of panic ran through him. He was lost in the swamp. He had snapped at his little brother over... what? Something he had done to annoy him, probably. Then Aiden had wandered off.