Stone Of Matter

by B L Barkey

  What Master Lyon was doing at this hour, Ammon had no clue. The other Levitians would roam the halls from time to time to make sure younglings weren’t causing mischief. Yet after a certain hour, even they went to bed. Ammon looked at a clock on the elevator wall. It read 3:11 am. The doors slid open, and after a brief pause, Master Lyon stepped in.

  Master Lyon was a tall man, at least a foot taller than Ammon. He was older, with well-groomed silver hair gracefully brushed back on his head and chin.

  “Ammon,” he started, turning to face the door, his gaze slightly tilted toward the boy in genuine surprise. “Why in the world are you awake?”

  “Good evening, Master. My friends and I fell asleep in the study rooms again. I’m just making my way back to my cube to get some good sleep.”

  “Ahhh. You know, I used to do that with my own friends, including your father, Erick. That was decades ago, of course, but the memories are still strong. Anyways, sorry to startle you,” he chuckled. “You probably didn’t expect to see anyone yourself.”

  Ammon waited, hoping Master Lyon would reveal more on his own.

  “You look very awake for how late it is.” He held the lamp closer to Ammon’s face. “Are you doing okay?”

  Ammon felt a strong urge to share his latest dream with Master Lyon, then decided against it. What could he say? He had seen the forces of evil plotting the destruction of Cephas? Had seen a dark beast creeping on the seventh floor? No way. I’ll sound like a lunatic. Should they think him crazy, they would think twice about letting him into the Trials.

  “I’m fine, Master. Just a bit nervous I suppose.” He wasn’t nervous for the Trials, nor for the unspoken Prelims. Yet it felt like something he should say, to seem normal. Master Lyon looked forward and nodded his head, as if he had heard Ammon’s thoughts along with his words.

  “Sleep is a wonderful thing. Most nights it comes easy. Some nights, however, it can be quite elusive. Especially when our minds weigh heavy with worry.”

  Ammon decided to take a chance. “Why are you up this late, Master?”

  “A good question, of which I can only give a partial answer. In my dream, this is where I walked. So when I awoke, I concluded this was where I should be.”

  There was silence then, as Ammon once again considered telling Master Lyon of his own dreams.

  “Perhaps you are wondering why I didn’t wait until tomorrow morning.” He glanced at Ammon without turning his head, smiling slightly. “Another good question. However, for this one, I can give you a complete answer. I have found throughout my life that as I receive promptings for action, it is best to act as soon as possible. After all, tomorrow is promised to no one.”

  Ammon stepped out onto the first floor, followed by Master Lyon who walked in such a relaxed manner, Ammon felt as if he were following him instead, even though Ammon was in the lead. Even without trying, Master Lyon was leading.

  His natural presence was inspiring to Ammon. His history remained mysterious, despite Ammon’s persistent questions to others. Father would sometimes reminisce about the “old” Lyon, going back far before he had taken up his own Levitian trials and apprenticeship. Once again, though, Father seemed to keep most of the details to himself.

  “You have quite a significant day approaching. Are you prepared?”

  “Yes, I think so. As prepared as I will ever be. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.” Ammon didn’t know why, but he felt as if Master Lyon suddenly knew how and when his dream of the Sector Guard had been born. But there’s no way he could know. He pushed the feeling aside.

  “You will do just fine, Ammon. You have good parents and a good heart. I have no doubt that you will end up exactly where you belong.”

  They kept walking to the rhythm of the light, their echoing footsteps until they stood outside the passage to the corridors. Ammon went to open the door, then noticed Master Lyon had stopped. Ammon turned towards him, planning to say ‘Thank you for your faith in me’ and ‘Have a good evening Master”.

  Instead, Master Lyon looked ready to speak again himself. Even in the darkness of the night, Ammon felt comfort from his elder. He trusted the Master, though he could be quite intimidating at times.

  “Stay true to what you believe is right. If you do this, then no matter which path you take, you will end up where you need to go. And where you need to go will become where you want to go. Similar to the little adventure I expect you had tonight.”

  He paused, sharing a warm smile on the side of his lips. “Hmm. I’m not quite sure why I said that. Probably the lack of sleep. True, nonetheless. Sleep well, Ammon.”

  He turned and faded into the darkness, his lantern held at his waist, its light shrinking and then rising as the elevator ascended. Ammon entered the corridors and followed the floor lights to his cube.

  Lying there with the intention of grabbing his book, he thought about what had happened just moments before. He was still unsure whether he had been awake or dreaming. His attempts to understand the dreams proved futile, so he instead focused on his slow breathing.

  As he closed his eyes, an image of Master Lyon appeared in the blackness. He was walking away from Ammon, who was again in the elevator. Lyon then started changing his form, shifting into the dream creature lurking in the dark, his lantern falling and bursting, leaving a small fire on the carpet. The creature continued to slink away, the fire shrinking to small candlelight.

  Ammon was intimidated by the snow leopard. He also trusted it, though cautiously. He wanted to heed her warnings. Yet he had to know what the dreams meant. He had to know who Morningstar was. I will dive further. I will find my answers.

  END OF PART I

  ✽✽✽

  PART II

  LEVITICUM

  Chapter XIII

  Interlude - Light Watching

  Have you seen the boy since the Wind Caves?” Torin asked.

  “I just spoke with him,” said Lyon, hanging his lantern on his wall. “He is well, though the process has definitely started. I spoke to him of dreams to see his reaction. There was a glimmer there, as I suspected. I think the woman, the Wielder, is reaching out to him even now.”

  He was with Torin in his study, having returned after escorting Ammon to the corridors. He covered his eyes, wincing.

  “Your rays can be seen for miles,” he said, shuffling over to his wide window and pulling the shades taut. “Especially during nighttime.”

  Torin laughed, bouncing all wavelengths around him with joyous sinuosity. Lyon caught the contagious wave, though he tried to resist, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Not only did he summon her with his own song,” Torin started, “but he reached the entire crowd! Every single heart present felt his story. And what a story it was.” His light grew brighter with each word. He seemed to triple in size, though it was only his light that grew. Finally, he restrained himself, lowering his glory with another shiver.

  “You told him,” Lyon mumbled, wiping his eyes.

  “I am always whispering to my children, Lyon. It is their choice whether to listen. It is to their prosperity, and glory, when they do.”

  “Fair,” Lyon said. Of course it was fair, he thought. This is Torin.

  “He summoned the wind, Lyon. To touch the heart of the wind… sure, others have done it. But never to that extent. And to bring her through the body and emotion of the crowd… by words of his own at that.” Torin was huffing with elation. He soothed himself, shivering again.

  “I don’t think the boy realizes exactly what he’s done,” Torin continued. “What he has just achieved. How far his understanding has grown.”

  “Yes,” Lyon said, deep in thought, knowing he was also unknowledgeable of the full implications.

  “Have you ventured another guess at which Essence of Stone he understands most?” Torin asked.

  “It would seem Voids,” Lyon answered quickly, surprising them both. He laughed and sat behind his desk. “With the wind responding so swift
ly to his eloquent performance, it seems clear. Yet it’s impossible to say for sure. He studies in the Leviticum as if his life depends on it.”

  “As well it might,” Torin chimed.

  Lyon continued. “Several books he has checked out pertain to the sciences of wavelengths and physics. He even checked out a glisc holding several research papers on gravity and time flux. I reread them after he returned it, and Torin, it took hours to get through. The jargon and unnecessary verbiage would put anyone to sleep. Yet the boy had marked several pages with simple notes, indicating he understood it on some level.”

  Lyon sighed. “To put it simply, I’m still unsure.”

  “Fair enough,” Torin said. “So tell me this, then. What did her face look like when she saw it? Naomi. Was she impressed by his song of stardust?”

  “Oh, you know her. The Lady Wielder of Matter can be quite firm. Anyway, why ask me? Can’t you see all?”

  “Ahh yes, I can. Even now. Yet I like it when my children speak to me. It makes me feel human again. Takes me back on the sweet nectar of nostalgia. I want to see it through your eyes. It’s much more fun.”

  Lyon unfolded his arms and dropped his wrinkled brow. “Her eyes were huge. Her critical grin was gone. I even think her mouth fell open. Just a bit.”

  He lowered his head. “She was crying. She doesn’t know I saw. There was a distinct glisten. I think it reminded her of her previous life.”

  Contentment radiated from Torin, though he ceased laughing. “My poor child. Did she say anything?”

  “All she said was, ‘Let’s see if he can resist a vortex’. You know how she is. What she meant was, ‘I think this boy could be the one’. As for tossing him into a vortex…”

  Lyon picked up his water glass, wiped the condensation from the outside, and took a drink before going on. “I would argue that love is a vortex of its own. One he seems to be resisting quite well, which is no small feat for a boy his age. But I suppose she is right. After all, there are different kinds.”

  “There is a reason. She is right,” said Torin.

  It was a vague statement, but Lyon understood. Naomi always had her reasons. It was wise to harken unto one who could harness the power of a creation stone. And there were rumors. Whispers among the island leaders that she had once wielded two stones at once. The Lady of Matter. Naomi.

  “I still wonder…” Lyon started.

  “I know you do,” Torin smiled. He turned to Lyon. “Tell me.”

  “I still wonder why we had to release Morningstar again, this close to the end of the journey. What if it fails?”

  Torin’s dimples grew, though gentler this time. “You know, an old friend of mine once wondered the same thing. And I’ll tell you what I told her, though you may dislike the answer.”

  Lyon looked out in the distance, then answered his own question. “It is the way of things. And so it must be.”

  Laughter had drifted away, though peace still resonated about them. It was always with them. It originated from Torin, after all. But even when Torin was elsewhere, Lyon could feel it.

  “Quite difficult it has been, predicting his essence. To guess which he will understand most. He has already shown understanding in all of them, just in the last few days. The Water, the Wind, the Rock, the Energy. Even the seventh stone of Peace.”

  “Yes. Perhaps that is why the Third wants a closer look.”

  “Hmm. She already has a form chosen for the occasion. She seems quite adamant to see him in form.”

  “Yes, she does, doesn’t she? That’s just like her,” Torin chuckled, now floating just slightly.

  In doing this, Torin still obeys the laws of the realm, Lyon thought. Torin was lighter than air, though his form was still human. It was the same form as Lyon, though still of much higher glory.

  Lyon had his own understanding of the essences within the Creation Stones. Torin was using vibrations from the understanding of Wavelengths and Light to weave himself into the fabric surrounding them, lifting himself up by ten thousand different strands. He might also be using the very Stone of Matter, shifting the elements of the air just slightly to support himself.

  Lyon closed his eyes, focusing on the wavelengths around his own body. He could feel the energy coursing through it all. He tied into the fabric, lifting himself up by one, two, three strands. He split his mind into four, then five parts, continuing his threading into the fabrics of waves around him.

  He tried for a sixth part of mind, focusing it on understanding of Matter. Yet as he did so, he felt a sharp blow to the head as his mind rejected the action. He gathered himself and refocused on just the five parts of his mind.

  After another minute, Lyon’s toes lifted from the ground. He hovered there just a fist from the ground. His concentration was enormous. Moving forward or backward would have surely brought him to the ground. And thus he was once again astonished by Torin’s abilities as the man drifted towards him effortlessly.

  “Do you think he knows?” Lyon asked from one part of his mind, remaining balanced.

  “Knows what? That the real trials have already begun? That they began when he was old enough to make choices? I’m sure he has touched on the truth, once or twice. As to whether he has fully grasped it? No, I think not. But he might someday, given more time.”

  Torin glided upwards, then somersaulted, suspending himself high above the ground before descending back to the floor. He flinched at the touch, the feeling like ice to his feet. Lyon laughed and shook his head. Some might think the flippant action was gloating on Torin’s part. But Lyon understood further. Torin was displaying full control over wavelength. He was demonstrating Lyon’s own potential, as motivation for him to grow.

  As usual, Torin was sending multiple messages on varying levels, all at one time. Lyon understood and appreciated it greatly. Though, in all honesty, he thought, I am indeed envious.

  “Then there are what the children call the Prelims. Having to pass through the rigors of daily life, with judgment from the ever-watching Levitians. And at the end of it all, the Trials of Guardians, which is only the beginning of the lifelong tribulation to come.”

  Lyon paused, his tone somber. “Sometimes, I feel for them. I put them through so much.”

  “For them? What about you?” Torin asked. “You have your own trials to pass through.”

  “As long as we live, I suppose. There will always be trials,” said Lyon, accepting the law. “Even so.”

  Torin beamed, a new shimmer in his eyes. “Yes. Even so.”

  “So we will see how he handles the vortex,” Lyon decided.

  Torin nodded.

  “Do you think it will prove too much for him? It’s here, you know. The darkness. I can feel it. The demons… Morningstar… they don’t yet have a heading on it. But there’s darkness growing here, in the hearts of the children.”

  For the first time this visit, Lyon saw Torin frown. “What you say is true. It is hard to know what will happen when it comes to the disorder and randominity of darkness. The chaos of it all is mysterious. If only it had but some structure, it could be beautiful. But no. Morningstar is its master. He keeps purpose elusive. As for the boy…” Torin trailed off.

  They walked to the window and looked over Cephas Island. The moon was nearly full. The planet Jipsum glistened bright in the west. Venetia was down, though she would rise again.

  “As for the boy. He is strong. He has surprised us before,” Torin finished.

  Lyon nodded. “We will just have to see.”

  Chapter XIV

  The Leviticum

  Onesday

  Ammon slept hard that night. When he awoke, he felt rejuvenated yet heavy as stone. He slowly lifted his head from his pillow, revealing a small pool of drool next to his cheek. He looked around his cube, trying to gather his thoughts before starting the day.

  Each cube was essentially an elongated box, five-foot high by five-foot wide and extending ten feet into the wall, giving just enough room to move abo
ut and stretch. Large drawers rolled into the walls of each cube, with smaller compartments lining the ceilings. It was in these drawers that Ammon stored all of his belongings needed for the five days of progression. These five days usually started out with a similar routine.

  Younglings would take the first hour of their day and devote it to personal meditation, studying, cleaning, and breakfast. Breakfast was often in the form of a condensed bar of fruit and vegetables, usually eaten with another of oats and vitamins. These were stored in a specific drawer in their cubes, refilled each evening by the kitchen workers. The next two hours were then devoted to service. The work was nearly effortless when every student fulfilled their small part.

  Services included cleaning the facilities, organizing the indices, caring for the needs of the animals, or administering to the Leviticum. After these two hours, students were free to go about their studies and apprenticeships. Some would even get up a little sooner and get some exercise in. Ammon was one of these people, making either Bastion or Mikael join him. Krystal would join him if he asked, but most of her days already consisted of intense physical exertion. He didn’t want her to push herself too hard.