Fable 1: The Hiker and the Hag Stone

A/N: Hello Dear Reader,

I have decided to write 10 fables (some modern, such as this one, and some traditional) inspired by the great Aesop! Enjoy! Please Like Comment and Subscribe!

-TWW

There was once a hiker called Jake. Jake took hikes across as many hills and caverns as he could find. As such, he thought nothing of it when he saw the interesting pebble on one of his adventures. He had returned from many hikes with pockets weighed down by rocks of different shapes, sizes, and features. Anything he found particularly interesting soon found its way onto his person and, more than likely, back to his home to be unceremoniously dumped on the nearest surface.

Such a habit it was to conduct this strange collection to add to his horde, Jake felt a little spark of excitement when he saw the aforementioned pebble. It was beautiful. The object was around the size of a large tealight, but flat, about 2 centimeters in thickness. The material was a marble of stone and tan quartz, with threads of white running through it. A circular hole took up a large space in the middle of it, around the size of a 5-pence piece. He thought briefly such stones were called Hag-stones.

‘Oh yes, this is a keeper’ Jake thought to himself in contained delight. He slipped the pebble into his pocket, continuing his hike.

It was later that day, as Jake was crossing a not-so-shallow river, when he felt his foot slip and he plummeted into the water below. Quick as a flash, he scrambled to the other side of the river, gasping air into his lungs. Thankfully, the ordeal was over quickly. It was only when Jake had gone to admire the pebble while making camp that night had he realised he must have dropped it into the water. He checked his gear fully, as was his habit, and saw no sign of the pretty rock anywhere. He felt a small pang of disappointment before beginning to make some rice over a campfire of sticks.

‘It was only a Hag-stone' he through to himself in muted sadness 'a very beautiful hag-stone...'

The next morning, the stone was far from Jake’s mind. That day was the day of the big climb. A vertical, near-inverted slope awaited him. He estimated that it would take until midday to reach the base of the difficult climb. He gathered his things and began his walk when he felt something weighing down his pocket. He fished it out only to find that it was, in fact, the hag-stone!

‘Huh…’ he thought to himself ‘I could have sworn I had lost it’

He shrugged and placed the rock back in his pocket. Happy for his discovery, yet a little confused by it's sudden appearance.

Later that morning, Jake was preparing for his big climb when he thought that perhaps a heavy hag-stone wasn’t the best climbing companion. Unwilling to let it go, he chose to try and throw the stone onto a platform above. It worked.

He began his climb. The technique involved placing a metal ‘wedge’ in rockface divots and attaching safety ropes before climbing a few meters higher. The wedge secured itself by expanding within the divots. This way, if he fell, the ropes would catch him and the wedge would hold the ropes and himself up.

Each time Jake climbed up to a ledge where he had previously thrown the rock, he threw it again, a little higher. After many successful attempts at this, he had gotten quite skilled at it. Soon he was throwing the hag-stone higher, onto smaller ledges – He was finding it quite fun, like a vertical hopscotch.

The ground was now far below him, and the final ledge was moments away. His fingers greedily grabbed ridges around him, and his boots stomped steadily behind him. He was so close to that final, grass-topped ledge!

His foot slipped

Jake fell.

The ropes tangled around his limbs as he dropped. He felt a jolt before hearing the clatter of his rope wedge. It had fallen too. His falling resumed. The sickening feeling of helplessness shot through Jake’s body like ice.

Griiiiiip

Jake hung there, suspended by the ropes. He was completely upside down and tethered to the rockface by many ropes attached to the rockface up above.

He panted for a few moments, his arms above his head, blood rushing in his ears. The sickening feeling had given way to swirling nausea.

Tensing his core, Jake hauled himself up to get a better look at what had stopped his rapid descent, and there it was. The little hag-stone. Somehow, the rope had gotten tangled into the hole in the centre. And the pebble had become wedged in a crack. It had saved his life!

Wasting no time in astonishment, Jake began to climb again. This time, his fingernails scraped every edge. He was not going to fall again, thank you very much.

Once atop the grass, climb complete, Jake looked down at the pebble. It still resided in the rockface but had begun to break. The jolt of holding Jake had worn down one side and, as if sensing his attention, it crumbled into three pieces. They tumbled down the rockface, disappearing into fog below. Jake let out a breath and continued his hike.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Moral: Nature’s tools are finest.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hi there! I hope you enjoyed this fable! I enjoyed writing it. I took a less traditional angle with this one as I am more used to writing human characters than animal ones. Don't worry animal fans, I will be trying my hand at some more traditional Aesop-esque fables in the future!

If you would like to hear about more of my stories and drabbles, give me a follow here or on Twitter

If you would like to support me as a writer, please comment, share insights, tip or share!

My best to you all,

ThatWriterWoman