Stone Of Matter

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Stone Of Matter Page 15

by B L Barkey


  “Hey, there you are! Oh man, are we in for a treat tonight!” The other three poured in as Jonah continued. “I bypassed the volume control for the speakers while adding a few other wireless parts. Needless to say, the room will shake. And the best part is…” He pointed to a pile of rolled-up foam beds in the corner. “We have hi-tech sound proofing technology.”

  “Hey now,” Ammon laughed. “Nice job Jonah. This is slick.”

  “Yeah, nice job Jonah. Now give us the tasty treats,” Bastion demanded, falling into the large corner couch and kicking his feet up.

  “Don’t be a jerk,” Krys said, swinging her pack around while tossing out smaller bags. “Tonight was my night for treats. And listen. I know it looks a little weird, but my friend Gyana from the Gardens got me some of this new fruit they are growing. It tastes delightful. Gives you a boost of energy, too. So no sleeping for us tonight!”

  “Woop woop!” Mikael called, propping up the foam mattresses against the walls.

  “You have friends?” Bastion asked Krys without looking at her, sounding very serious.

  “I have good and bad friends, of which you are clearly of the latter,” she said. Her look was mock offense, even mischievous.

  “Of the latter...,” Bastion whispered, shaking his head.

  “Jonah, where did you get all this foam anyways?” asked Ammon.

  “Well, you see, a few of our favorite people may have left their cube doors unlocked, and I may or may not have snagged their... hey!” Jonah shouted, flinching from Krystal’s punch to his arm.

  “You stole them?!” she shrieked.

  “Borrowed them! We will put them right back in the morning, no big deal.”

  “Yeah, let’s hope not,” Ammon said through his smile. It would be funny to see the reactions. It was a harmless stunt. Seven mattresses… he could probably guess who they belonged to. Matt and Sebas. Chelsea and Cassie. Chalice, absolutely. Maybe even Jonah’s own. One was most likely Krystal’s, too. She never locked her cube door, a fact they all knew, for they had tickled her nose with a feather while she slept many times before.

  But Ammon decided to keep that thought to himself. She might really try to punch Jonah out this time, putting him to sleep before the film even started.

  “Whatever, moving on,” Jonah said. He paused and smiled wide, his eyes huge and peering at each of them. “You guys ready?”

  Before they could answer, he pressed a button. A sudden fanfare of brass instruments shattered the sound barrier, indicating the signature start of the series. Diving out of the way as if each sound wave were a bit of shrapnel from a grenade, they smothered their ears with nearby blankets and pillows.

  Ammon saw Krystal’s lips move, though he failed to hear her voice through the vibrating air. After twenty seconds that felt like an hour, the sound lowered. Bastion’s high-pitched scream echoed clear as shattering glass. He made this sound often, though only with his friends. Ammon rolled with laughter.

  “The freak is the matter with you! You trying to break the speakers and get us banned?” she cried, her voice now audible over the ringing in their ears.

  Jonah feigned shame, but a slight snicker could be heard under his breath. Ammon laughed, embracing the pain in his head and gut. “He said it would be loud,” Ammon pointed out. They grabbed some treats from Krystal’s bags and settled into the couch, burying themselves with blankets and pillows.

  The Leviticum had strict rules about these private rooms. The blinds were not allowed to be closed. Lights were kept on if the opposite genders were together. It was different than the Lake of Light. Passions could grow very high and very fast in a dark room occupied with boy and girl. But it was Krystal and the boys. None of them looked at her like that, or at least, not that Ammon knew of.

  Every Sevensday evening, they watched films in this room, with nearly unlimited options compiled over the past millennia. One of the projectors would cast light on the wall, casting the contents on a glass disc, or “glisc”, onto the platform behind. One glisc could contain thousands of films. Much of the archived data from the ancient world was stored on these gliscs. Still, the practice of passing knowledge through ink and paper also persevered.

  Jonah had made some film shorts himself, mastering the art of computer animations. One showed a cartoon orangutan befriending a porpoise. The orangutan then tried to court her, but the porpoise turned him down, not because he was a different species of mammal, but because she had already promised her flipper to another orangutan. Silly. And hilarious. His understanding of computers was simply astonishing.

  The fruit from Krys shocked their taste buds in an intriguing way, releasing an energy surge that spiked their blood. The heightened awareness made sounds and lights in the movie potently realistic, further absorbing them into the action.

  After the closing credits, Ammon glanced over to see Krys passed out cold. I knew she’d be the first asleep, he thought. Bastion then pulled out a feather from nowhere, invoking stifled laughter from Ammon and Mikael, while Jonah shrunk away and shivered. After a few disappointing grunts from Krys, in response to Bastion shoving the feather up her nose, they selected another film from the glisc, then one by one drifted off to sleep.

  Ammon was the last one conscious, and as he began to slip, he felt a great joy rise up in his chest. Grateful to be among his best friends, listening to the faint music from the Wind Caves in the distance.

  For the second time that day, Ammon hoped that his life would never change. He loved his friends, and his island life, just the way they were.

  II

  Ammon awoke, though not to real life. He fell into awareness within his dreams. Dread poured over him. It was dark. His body was not his own. He was in another dream of the dark ones.

  Although he couldn’t see the body he now possessed, it felt different than before. From the shear mass of it, he figured it was masculine. And before he could take in any surroundings, he saw the memories of the one he was possessing.

  His name used to be Matteo, though he was now called Conqueror. His name, along with everything else, had changed almost three months ago.

  Ammon still possessed the body in the dream, though he could also see himself from the outside, as if in third-person. The dual perspective was sickening, though it answered some of questions.

  He watched a storm materialize from nowhere. It was tearing his island to shreds, whipping his long brown hair back with the breath of destruction. He had been average height for his age, though slightly stockier from his consistent, lonesome workouts. He had been running in the early evening, pushing back his growing dark thoughts, when he had first seen the gathering storm.

  It’s about time, the boy thought. He had been warned of this. Afterward, he had been informed that his island harbored a sacred stone used for creating his planet, known as the Stone of Dominion. That’s what the dark one had told him.

  He had loving parents then, whom had raised him on the hidden island of Ilan. He had been born and bred on Ilan for all his sixteen years of life. And all his life, this had never been enough. Every morning, he had wished for something more.

  The island of Ilan was surrounded entirely by ocean, with no connections to the outside world. Every day, he had felt trapped, deprived of the beauty other societies may have held. He had often been alone in his views, keeping most people away from him. Or at least, if others had felt the same, they hadn’t wanted to talk about it. This had left him in isolation.

  He only had one friend during these years. That was his companion animal, a hog given to him on his eighth birthday, as was the tradition of their fathers. Everyone had a companion on Elan, for such was the way taught to them by their Levitians. Species were varied, ranging from chameleons to panthers to hogs. Matteo loved his companion hog, whom he had named Tash for its blonde mustache.

  Yet after a few more years of exploring with Tash, Matteo had still felt like there had to be more to life. Like any boy his age, he wanted to spend time with a g
irl, to know her an possibly, someday, kiss her. After years of his loneliness, watching others blooming into beautiful relationships, he had begun to find comfort in his solitude. What other choice had there been? Not long after that, he had heard the voices.

  At first, he knew they weren’t real. But as time went on, these voices became more real and clearer to him than those from his family. He fed into them, giving them more of his attention and time. When others his age sought him out for games or fun, he instead pushed them away. To be fair, they had tried somewhat to help him, though every effort felt half-hearted to him.

  He soon even kept his companion animal at home, lest it disturb the silence, and therefore the voices. His boar had rebelled vocally for hours, but he hadn’t cared. He had outgrown the thing.

  It was then that he first saw the source of these voices. He had been alone in the woods at night, his fear long ago replaced with comfort. His eyes had adjusted the last few weeks, as the bodies of the Ilan people often seemed to adapt quicker than normal.

  At least, that’s what it said in their ancient texts. With this power, he saw the figure step from the shadows. At first it was a woman, before it transformed into a panther. As it grew closer, its odd shapes and angles seemed… off. It carried with it a smell of decay, to the point he had to cover his nose.

  “Don’t be childish,” the voice had hissed. “You will adapt, as you already have. You will learn to love the smell, or else not even notice it. Come, young one. I am the one you’ve been speaking with.”

  He had gone. It was then the figure had told him of the approaching storm.

  “You are right to want more. There is so much more to this world that they hide from you. Your parents, your leaders. Even your friends. They’re all liars. The storm will come and fix everything.”

  Fix everything. That’s what the voice had said. What it had meant was kill everything.

  He was watching it now. The thunderclouds. The rogue winds and waves. The giant glowing beast in the sky, screeching to all. In the cries, Matteo heard the voice. Come to me, child. Accept the new power. You are the one.

  He stepped from the trees. The winds blasted him, but he held firm. His strength was growing exponentially within. He had left Tash behind, not wanting him to get hurt, though he felt it was inevitable. What is happening to me? He wondered.

  The voice of the storm answered him. You have been chosen by Lord Morning, the future ruler of all we spoke about. You are to wield the new stone.

  Suddenly, he understood. There had been two glowing lights in the sky, one violet and one emerald. With thunderclap and a deafening cry, the violet had seemed to consume the green light, leaving an eerie silence of death behind. The battle had finished. Ilan would fall.

  What he had witnessed were the powers the voice had spoken of. Angels. Guardians of creation. Litiguh. And their opposites. Dulkrye.

  The creature formed from wisps of dark cloud, descending down upon the scarred sands next to a blackened tree. The dark creature walked towards him, holding him in its eyes. It stopped within a stone’s throw, watching him, before it held out its hand.

  Darkness had then swirled back to reveal the same same green glow it had just consumed from the Litiguh. It held out the heart of Ilan, in the form of a glowing Stone, jagged and unrefined. And who will wield this Stone for Morning? The voice asked him, loud in his thoughts against the monsoon.

  Me, he thought back, knowing it to be true. He laughed, despite the weight on his heart. He turned towards the storm and the creature, crying aloud though he knew it was unnecessary.

  “And what of my family and friends?”

  Matteo, I don’t want to be the one to tell you this. In the death of the Litiguh, there was an explosion. Everyone in your village was wiped out. You are the only survivor, along with only the insects in the ground. Your loved ones, your animals, your texts. They are gone.

  Matteo felt anger rise within.

  It was then that he heard a rustling from behind. Before he turned to meet it, somewhere deep down, he knew what he would see. Yet as he did so, he still felt his heart plummet. His hog Tash stepped from the brush, terrified and trembling.

  Though Ammon saw it through Matteo’s eyes, he also felt like he stood between the boy and his companion animal. He saw Tobias in the eyes of Tash as pangs of empathy coursed through him.

  Tash had always been brave, carrying Matteo when he needed support. Many times Tash had fended off other animals who had sought to tease and antagonize Matteo. And so it was a given that Tash would follow his human into the storm.

  No, Tash. I told you to stay, boy. What have you done?

  The voices were silent, though Matteo knew their will. No, he thought back to them, responding to their emptiness. No, I can’t. Let us just leave this place. Let’s leave him. Matteo took a step towards the dark figure, in which Tash followed.

  “Stay back!” Matteo cried, attempting to scare his companion away. Though Tash was indeed frightened, he planted his feet firm. He was not going anywhere without his human.

  “No…” Matteo and Ammon mumbled together.

  You must, young one. It will make you stronger. You will be the wielder of the Stone of Dominion. You must cast away all weaknesses.

  It was the last thing in the world Matteo wanted to do. Tash was his best friend in the whole world. But in this, he understood the dark creature’s meaning. In this, Tash made Matteo weak.

  Ammon tried to hold the boy in place, but he had no power over the past. Matteo stepped towards Tash, who rushed towards him with grunts of relief. That’s when Matteo pulled out his knife from his lower back. He caught Tash with his other arm, pulling him into a tight hug. And with everything he had left, he willed his beast to understand him. Run.

  He thrust the thought at his best friend, just as he lunged forward with his knife. He swung wide, giving Tash the chance to dodge, as they so often did in the combative drills. To his utmost relief, Tash pulled away with just a deep wound, his blood flinging from the knife. They locked eyes, and in that moment, both understood. As Tash turned and limped away, Matteo fell to his knees, tears heavy in his eyes.

  My boy, the creature grumbled. It is the way of things. Come with me, and we will give you power. You will find new strength with us. New family, new friends. In this, you will save the world. In this, you do what is best, and rise above.

  Matteo clenched his fists, hating the darkness, while also feeding it. And then the voice said those final words. The words he still held onto today, keeping him alive.

  You will see your family again, if you will come with me. You are doing this all for them, even if it means hurting them at first.

  His shoulders slumped, his feelings inside conflicted. Relieved to hear he would see them again, he also felt something new. He felt his resentment towards them, which had grown over the years, spilling out.

  As the feeling poured from him in waves, he wept and fell to his knees, first in sorrow, and then with joy. He was free from the burden of pretending. He hated them. He didn’t belong. He was alone. And in this solitude, he would gain power. And from there, he would conquer the world, including this voice.

  I will take it, Matteo answered the voice in his mind. I will wield the Stone.

  He felt the creature of violet light smile down upon him, like the dark dawning of light after a storm. Yet the real storm is only just beginning. He knew it even then.

  In that moment, Ammon recognized the dark figure. He had possessed her body in the dream before, in what felt like ages ago.

  Matteo walked out to the waters, guided by the voice. He soon came upon a charred black tree, which appeared to be a rip in reality itself. It pulled on him with the gravity of matter and desire. He stared at it, though he took in everything else around him. His power was still growing, making him want to laugh aloud.

  The panther appeared at his side. It limped upon five backwards-folding legs. It smelled of fresh violets. Matteo breathed it in.
/>   Boy, it spoke to him. You know my name.

  Yes, he thought. Venetia.

  She was a girl, after all. And he realized he wanted her. After he received the power. He wanted it all, like he wanted to eat all the sweet candies in the world without stopping. More is always better, he thought with vigor. Always. With only a few steps on this new path, I already have all I’ve ever wanted.

  He turned from the tree to Venetia. She stepped forward with a paw. The entire island shook under her weight, knocking him to his knees. But it wasn’t her weight that did this. As she took a step back, there was a new glow in the sand. It was the same emerald glow from before, buried inches into the ground. It was the heart of his island. The heart of Ilan.

  The Stone of Dominion. Take it and fulfill your understanding, Venetia beckoned.

  Yes, he thought. I will take it.

  Come unto me, Matteo. Let us take on the world together.

  He laughed. Low at first, then building.

  “Yes! It is all true. I knew it from the beginning. There is something more.”

  And with this, he plunged his fist into the sands, grasping the Stone and relinquishing his old relationships. And what followed was the most excruciating pain he had ever felt in his life.

  The Stone fought against him. He held on. It ripped at his heart, killing him. Venetia was there, supporting him. After sublime darkness and what felt like ages, he stepped back into life, and swallowed the power of the Stone. He trapped it there, conquering its free-will while caging it in his new heart of dead-stone.

  It had been the most excruciating pain he had ever felt in his life. It had tasted like pleasure, and smelt of violets.

  III

  A wave washed over Ammon, knocking him back from a memory to the present. Or at least, back to whatever time Matteo was now in. For Ammon was still possessing his body.

  He felt a mass in his chest. It hurt Ammon as much as any dream can hurt. He felt a real throbbing in his chest, though he was grateful it wasn’t real. Or is it?

  Matteo’s thoughts grew louder, as if they were a film just starting. Ammon watched them, curious and afraid. He still felt like he could be discovered at any moment.

 

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