He waited very patiently for the dusk to fade. Ever so slowly the day slid away into night. Even as young as he was, Ahda understood the gift that was silence. The alone-ness that accompanied it was the boy's first friend.

Unlike most others Ahda didn't have a reason for his love of solitude. It wasn't a love built over time, forced by being outcast by others. In fact, Ahda was often asked to join the fun. But always he refused. He could gain much more joy by staying alone near the edge of the forest and being quiet. With the trees. Listening.

At night, Ahda had learned, the silence grew stronger. More real. And at night more of the trees would speak. He wasn't sure what the said, as it wasn't in the common tongue. No. It was a very ancient language. One spoken only by the earth. By the trees. And trees loved their silence; just as Ahda loved his.

He was seven when he first heard their voice. He loved it instantly, and from that point forward Ahda returned every day right as duck became night. Every time, to hear the trees.

For eight years he did this without fail. Over the passing decade Ahda had learned the meaning of the ancient earth-language. Although he couldn't physically pronounce the words, Ahda knew them in his heart and mind. He could never forget their wonder.

This night Ahda had arrived right at sunset. Earlier than usual. He needed time to clear his head before greeting the trees and the silence. Being 15 as he was, and so close to being 16, Ahda was starting to feel pressured by society. As a child his social-reluctance was ignored, but now at the "threshold of manhood," as his father called it, Ahda was forced to attend social events in his family's name. A custom Ahda wasn't aware of due to his frequent solitude.

Today had been the first of many social events the lead up to the "Ceremony of Names." A very important ceremony in which all young males who had come to age in the last year would "step into manhood." Ahda didn't see the point in such a ceremony and wished he could skip it and go on with his life.

Beneath his worries, Ahda almost didn't notice the dark creep over him. He probably wouldn't have if not for his ears. The trees awoke and began their story. Ahda immersed himself in their words and let himself forget about his life.

They must have sensed his pain because the story the told was of a boy like himself, who when faced with a similar problem set out on an adventure to find his true path.

At the end of the tale, Ahda stood and bowed a low bow. Under his breath he whispered, "Thank you my friends. You have given me so much through the years, and sadly I could give you nothing but an open ear for your words to land in.

"This may be the last time I come to see you. I will take your advice and go away from the life forced upon me. One day I will return, and when I do I will bring you something more than my ears. Thank you for everything."

And then he turned and walked away from the forest, and away from his village. Ahda knew he couldn't return home, or his mother or father would stop him from his journey. He had to start anew. Without anything, for he needed nothing but his silence. With each step, his past faded away into the night he loved so much.