by B L Barkey
This place… This place was home.
II
They swung around their house, leapt up the small stair, and entered through the front door decorated with signs and maps. The warmth of the fireplace and aroma of pie slapped Ammon in the face in a way that was quite fantastic. Underneath it all was a scent unique to only their home. It was a scent unlike anything else he knew. He had tried to describe it several times, often comparing it to a wood stove keeping the warmth of a pie flavored with memories. Or to a treehouse, freshly cut from oak and built near honeycomb, nectar-filled hummingbird homes, and a misty waterfall.
He also thought it reminiscent to fresh laundry, just washed and folded. These things were probably associated with the smells he grew up around, but it was the best he could do. It was the aroma of nostalgia.
Walking into his home felt like entering another reality, whilst leaving the immense world of Proelum at the door. Nothing could penetrate the love-infused walls of the cabin. It was a world that their family had built naturally, ever-shifting it to their tastes and desires.
Dim sources of light glowed throughout from lamps and candles nestled in comfy corners that coalesced together in vaulted ceilings. Each light was another sphere of its own, creating nooks of comfort and warmth within its bounds. The candle lights flickered on the walls, revealing the horizontal parallels of logs stacked upon one another, most of which was covered in artistic décor. The family secret was an obvious one. Mother was a creative, compulsive decorator.
The brothers stripped off their shoes and tossed them near another dirty pair at the door. Bastion is here, Ammon thought, smirking to himself. They rounded the corner and entered the kitchen.
“Mum!” Ammon shouted, shuffling over to hug her. She was pulling pies from the stove with sharp focus. Ammon embraced her from behind, putting his arms over her short shoulders.
“Ammon! You’re all sweaty, gross!” she laughed with irritation, shrugging him off. Ammon held on another few seconds before letting go.
“You looked too clean,” Ammon teased, stepping back to the counter. Mother turned round, revealing flour and sauce splattered all over her apron, arms, and hair. The boys laughed at their mother, recognizing from whence they had inherited their messy eating habits. She smiled through closed eyes, puffy cheeks, and a scrunched nose while turning back to her cooking. Father was absent. Probably in his study, Ammon thought.
Steps approached from the dining room. They all looked over to see Bastion, who was lazily holding a broom and wearing a backwards bonnet. “The floors are all swept, Mother,” he said, placing the broom against the wall. He pretended not to notice the other two boys as he walked over and stood near them. They each looked around then, casually nodding their heads while tapping their fingers on the counter. Mikael broke first, laughing aloud. Ammon followed, and Bastion flashed a reluctant grin.
“You are seriously always over here,” teased Mikael.
“Yeah, you guys are alright I guess,” Bastion said, sitting into a slouch.
He was taller and bulkier than the Delkai brothers, with darker skin and hair color. He was a good-looking fellow, with a bit of an intolerance for other people. He didn’t socialize much with anyone but the Delkai family, with the addition of Krystal and Jonah, of course.
Bastion had arrived on the island when he was eight, dropped off by his father. His father had a home on Cephas, having grown up there himself. But he apparently spent much of his time on Monoruin, researching new animal species. It was unclear what his overall purpose was, but his work ethic seemed akin to that of Guardian Iceland. Regardless of his dedication, his absence was hard on his son. Bastion had never met his mother, for which he blamed his father.
Needless to say, the Delkai family had unofficially adopted Bastion. Bastion had his small home with a large basement with many different animals of his own. He loved animals, just like his father. It was this connection to his father that he cherished most, though he rarely spoke kindly of the man.
“You boys better get cleaned up before the celebration tonight,” she said without pausing her furious, smooth cooking. Lamb and rice tonight, Ammon observed. Heck yes.
Ammon stood, then climbed the stairs to the third floor with Tobias on his heels. Framed memories lined the walls the whole way, bringing his mind to a place of nostalgia. Honestly, the warmth and joy weaved into their home was mostly because of Mother. Though they all provided their own threads of personality, she was the creator who weaved them together in an ambient tapestry. She was simply amazing. A bit too worrisome at times, he thought. But always caring.
Father complimented her well. He kept a perpetual balance of humor and intellect, rarely boring and always kind. Mother and Father motivated each other, as if to impress one another even after years of marriage. Neither ever talked badly about the other. They would still go out on romantic outings to the beach or mountain springs. They would also give each other plenty of space to pursue their personal desires, supporting each other along the way.
They had always disciplined their children as a team, neither parent attempting to be the favorite or ‘lenient one’ over the other. They loved their children, but they loved each other first and foremost, before anything else. They came together as one before taking on the world. It was beautiful.
Ammon wanted that more than anything. Perhaps more than the Sector Guard, though he was glad they were parallel lives, and one did not contradict the other. After all, Guardian Iceland was a Guardian and husband. Ammon worried sometimes that such a perfect love would be impossible for him, even with his budding relationship with Sadie. So instead he focused his thoughts on his goals, and waited to see what would unfold. It will come. It will come. After we become Guardians, for them.
He turned before the spiral staircase and entered Father’s study. There sat Father, leaning over a massive book and muttering to himself. He was barely taller than his boys, though he was impeccably well-groomed, with dark brown hair and an impressive, soft beard. His soothing presence and wisdom made him highly sought after by others for advice and counsel. He sat with his legs crossed, stroking his beard with one hand and turning pages with the other. He glanced up at Ammon, smiled with that twinkle in his eye, then looked back to his book, finishing his page.
“Ah, my boy,” Father started, marking his chapter. He set his book on the small table to his right and removed his spectacles. “How was your run?”
“About the same as usual,” responded Ammon, strolling further into the study and glancing about.
Father had many different trophies from his wide-ranging hobbies. Ammon honestly didn’t know much about the life of his parents prior to his birth. Neither of them would elaborate much further than ‘Oh, those were good times. I miss being young.’
Ammon had gathered information from their little remarks over the years, while inferring the relevance to the decorations on Father’s wall. One was a large fish, preserved to outlast the natural decay of time. It was apparently from the ocean to the east during an ocean voyage he had embarked upon in his younger years.
“And you boys are headed to the Wind Caves after?” Father asked.
“Yeah, right after supper,” Ammon said. “Bastion is here. I know, what a surprise. And Krystal should be on her way.”
“What about Jonah?”
“He’s at the Leviticum already, setting up for the movie.”
“Hmm,” Father grumbled. “I daresay that boy studies more than me.”
“You sound almost jealous, Father,” Ammon teased.
“Hmph. Perhaps. Sounds like a great time. My friends and I used to spend much time at the Leviticum.”
Ammon perked up. Was he really about to learn more about Father’s life before parenthood?
“Those were good times,” Father concluded, as if daydreaming.
Ammon’s shoulders fell. Typical, he thought, then mumbled, “Mother says food will be ready in five.” He kicked his foot around, spinning in the c
enter of the carpet and walking lazily back to the door.
“Perfect, even just finished my chapter. How’s that for timing?” Father said, looking at Ammon with a sly grin. Ammon looked back and caught Father’s eye. Ammon felt his love then, reflexively smiling back. He truly had been born of goodly parents.
“So,” Father started, then paused. The mood turned serious. “Are you nervous?”
Ammon looked down. “Not really. Mother has cooked before, and the food smells good…”
“Ammon,” Father interrupted. “You know what I mean.”
Yes, Ammon thought. I do know what he means. After supper, Ammon and Mikael would walk out the door of their childhood home. That would be the start of the Prelims. There was a whole week left before the SG Trials. This was the preliminary period set to firmly evaluate each apprentice for the SG Trials.
They would be watched closely by the Levitians, evaluated on every aspect of human life. One could go crazy thinking of all the ways you could fail in this final week. If the Levitians found them unworthy, they would approach them that week and let them know they’ve been banned from ever attempting the SG Trials again. Some had been known to faint during this final week, sleeping for several days before waking up, confused and relieved to have missed the Trials.
But that would not happen to the brothers. There was no need to worry. To worry would only increase the chances of failing the Prelims and Trials. Instead, they would do their thing, eyes set on the horizon of their calling. The next time they would walk into their home, they would know if they had passed the Prelims, and would move to the Trials.
Ammon repeated the question in his mind. Are you nervous? He then spoke the answer he wanted to believe.
“No, Father. We will do our best. We’ve been preparing for years. We’ve…”
He paused. He was about to say, We’ve been looking forward to this ever since we saw the floating mountain. But so far, the boys had been successful in keeping that day secret. There was nothing Father would do about it. He might even be impressed and encourage them. Even so, keeping it secret seemed to strengthen their resolve, as if keeping the secret was another part of their own personalized Prelims. Keeping it secret made it more real.
“We’ve been preparing for a long time. We’re ready.”
Father smiled then, seeming to look into the depths of Ammon’s soul. “Yes, I think you are. And just remember, if you fail, your Mother and I won’t love you anymore. So, no pressure.” He winked. Ammon laughed. “Yeah yeah.”
“No, I harbor no doubts that my boys will make it into the profession which calls to them. As long as you are listening for that calling. There’s order in this world. We are no exception. If you listen, you will hear the call, coming from where you belong the most. There are no wrong paths, as long as you move forward. There are thousands of destinations. But there’s only one place that is the highest. Residing there is your truest potential.”
Father leaned back in his chair, his eyes growing distant. “I admire the order and creation in this world. You know this about me. The structure of the universe is astounding. It’s a work of the most beautiful art. But it’s the artist of the Universe himself that I someday hope to meet. The Great Engineer…”
“Gen,” echoed Ammon, knowing this reference. Gen, the Great Engineering Nerd. Mother disliked this name for the Creator she believed in, but all the same, she would smirk at Father with playful disdain.
“Yes. Gen. The greatest Engineer of all time, space, and possibility.”
Father got that look in his eye, like he was going to begin a full lesson. Then, with a glint of self-realization, he closed his mouth tight and puffed out his cheeks.
“Let me share with you just… one thing I discovered in my studies today?” Father asked, holding up one figure. Tobias stood then, stretched, and left the room.
Ammon smirked, then nodded with genuine interest.
“So. Think of this,” Father started. “If all things are possible, then all things are probable… To different degrees. Some things are more likely to happen than others. We have equations to estimate probability. Some are simple, while others are vastly more complicated. Now, I have a few questions to ask you to illustrate my point.”
Father stood, clasping his hands behind his back and strolling around the room.
“Tell me, what’re the odds of you finding an apple tree in High Forest?”
“They don’t grow there, so none,” answered Ammon.
“And you know this because you have seen it?”
“Yes,” Ammon answered again.
“Spot on. Ok, so what are the odds of finding an apple tree in the Gardens?”
“It’s guaranteed, since we grow almost all of the apples there.”
“Right on again. Definitely a son of mine,” Father said with a wink and hint of sarcasm. He continued. “Now tell me. What are the odds of a meteor crashing down to Proelum, striking exactly three birds, before smashing into our house during dinner this evening?”
Ammon wondered for a moment, then responded with his first thought.
“Very slim. Mmm, basically zero.”
“Ahh, but it is possible?”
“I don’t see why not,” Ammon shrugged.
“Ok, one more example, somewhere in the middle of the two extremes. What are the odds of you catching a fish that weighs forty pounds or more in the streams of Cloud Mountain?”
Ammon’s response was immediate. “Those streams are pretty small.”
“Yes, that’s a factor.”
Ammon thought hard. Sometimes small pools and eddies were created where the fish could hide.
“I would say it’s almost impossible, but could maybe happen. Slightly more likely than the meteor.”
“Ok. So we have equations from the Ancient world that actually attempt to calculate the probability of each of these events occurring. But of course, none of them are perfectly accurate. There is still chance. The unknowable factor.”
Father stopped walking. He was looking out his small window through which stood the Leviticum.
“This is my thought. What if there are actual, scientific equations that can perfectly estimate probability, bending it to the will of one?”
Ammon thought of all the things he could do with such powerful equations. Perhaps he could even manipulate matter to create a floating mountain. Is this the power the Guardians hold?
“It would be limitless,” Ammon finally said, startling himself. “You could do almost anything then. But that would take perfect understanding of… well, pretty much everything. All things, everywhere.”
“Exactly. And that’s where I ended up. Gen, the Engineer, has equations that perfectly estimate uncertainty. Therefore, it is in coincidences and miracles that we see his hands at work. Coincidence. Chance. Gen plays his hand in probabilities. His hand is in chance.”
There was silence. Father had his hand up in front of him, fingers apart as if holding within them an orb. His hand then closed into a loose fist, as if holding his thoughts and words.
“Wow, yeah,” said Ammon. He surprised himself, sounding out of breath. “That’s pretty incredible. I’ll have to think about that more when I’m not so hungry, but yeah. It makes perfect sense to me.”
“Yes. And once we can create equations that factor in all things to the perfect degree, with flawless arithmetic, at the same speed which thought travels from mind to fingertip, then we will reach the level of Gen.”
He laughed. “It will take a long time. An eternity, even. But with this, there seems to be a walkable path to the top. And to the center, as well. But I won’t get into that.” He shook his head, stopping himself.
“Boys! Supper is almost ready!” Mother’s voice echoed through the ambient halls.
Father gave a side glance to the door, then to his eldest son. They both grinned.
Father lowered his voice to a whisper. “I suspect Gen even has one partner up there with him, reminding him to relax a
nd enjoy his creations from time to time. Not unlike how your Mother is for us. Crucial, and lovely. A flower to protect and behold.”
They both drifted off into a momentary solitude within their own thoughts.
“Well, I should get cleaned up before Mother comes after us,” Ammon said.
“Yes m’boy. See you down there.”
Ammon left the room and walked up the spiral staircase to his bedroom. The room was originally built for Father’s new study. The view of the surrounding heavens was glorious through a full window wrapping around the entire, circular room.
As Father was finishing the room, young Ammon and Mikael had grown quite attached to it. They would play and read in the room, sometimes even falling asleep on the hardwood floor. As it reached its completion, Father decided to let his boys have it, moving his study into their old bedroom instead. The boys were thrilled. They all worked together to gather supplies after that, finishing the room decorations and furniture within a week.
He walked to his bed. His belongings were on the left side of the spherical room, with Mikael’s stuff on the right. They shared a bunk bed in the middle of the back wall. It was the same large, oaken bed frame they had slept in all their lives.
Their decoration was simple, complemented by the natural wood of the walls. The best part was the giant, segmented window that encircled the entire room. From it you could see all of High Forest, vibrant within the cloudy baby-blues of daytime, or blanketed with comforters of deep-blue fog and starlight. This was the highest point in High Forest, making it easy to lie on the floor and pretend the room was in the stratosphere. Father had even installed a glisc in the floor center of their room, which projected the shifting constellations on the ceiling.