by B L Barkey
Maison remained lying down, his face as expressionless as ever. He seemed only to be wondering why Ammon was so distressed. Ammon looked him in the eye. “Can you help me?” Ammon asked as a request to a friend. It was all he could think to say, still unbelieving of the situation.
Maison tilted his head to the side like a curious, wild animal.
Ammon looked behind the boy, hoping the highest hope to see anyone else standing nearby. Anyone to witness Maison as either a savior or a killer. But there was no one. Only Maison. One push and Ammon would fall backwards into the whirlpool. The look in Maison’s eyes was not hesitation. It was calculation. He was calculating the risks involved with ending Ammon here and now.
Then suddenly, for the first time in many years, the expression on Maison’s face matched what was in his heart. It was an icy pleasure of seeing someone else suffer. Of holding power and authority over another. Though Ammon had always disliked the false outer shell of Maison, he suddenly wanted nothing more than the return of the mask. For all the malice to be a façade. It was terrifying.
His bones were frozen. He was caught between two terminals, one behind and one in front. But the choice of which path to take was not his own. Maison had taken over that right for him. The only decision left was to accept the situation. He would have to face Maison down. He had to try.
“Don’t you remember me? Our childhood together? Could you really do this to someone from your island family?” Ammon yelled, begging his own limbs to cease from trembling.
Maison did not seem to hear him as he responded with the patient voice of a book.
“Curious, is it not? How we all imagine ourselves to be the hero of our story.”
Ammon was startled, for the voice did not belong to Maison. It was the voice of a stranger. He realized then that he had not heard Maison speak for a very long time. He had never known the voice of the young adult Maison. All the same, the voice that spoke did not seem to belong to the body it came from. It seemed almost inhuman.
Maison looked out at the sun, then back down to the whirlpool before continuing. His grip held firm.
“Just imagine how it would feel. To believe such an arrogant thought, only to be visited by death, realizing with absolute certainty that your life was secondary to so many things. That you were a side character all along.”
These words crumbled the pillars of hope within Ammon, ripping fear into his limbs like the cracks from a rock dropped on thin ice. Ammon still had one last plea.
“Maison. What have you become? What would your father and mother think of this?”
Finally, he turned and looked Ammon in the eye. The motion was casual as the wind. He opened his mouth, paused, then spoke.
“I can’t remember.”
The ice encasing Ammon from the inside sealed his heart from the warmth of the sun. Terror ripped through his veins unlike anything he had ever felt, as quick as water rushes over glass. He can’t remember? Can’t remember what?
The smallest hint of the Maison from their childhood resurfaced, causing the boy’s chest to heave. A moment later, it was gone. The emotionless face reappeared, and Maison looked at him with cold eyes.
There was a motion in the bushes behind Maison. A rustle, a patter. And then, a growl. Ammon could not see, but he could hear. It was L’Nala. Her growl was deep, shaking the stone of the cliff face. It was nothing compared to the mother wolf’s voice. A voice that could shear any cliff into pieces if she so desired. But it was deep enough to reverberate doubt and caution into Maison, who still held Ammon’s life in his hands.
Another growl rang loud, seeming to come closer. Ammon watched Maison’s face for any reaction to indicate what was happening. Maison looked almost pleased, as if he had planned out all of these events thus far, and the appearance of L’Nala was just another step in the process. He loosened his grip a bit, a threat to the wolf that Maison would indeed drop Ammon from the cliff. L’Nala growled fiercely then, committing to the fight. Maison watched the wolf with a new curiosity.
Then, garbled voices arose from the side brush. The sounds were crystal bells to his ears, held as possibly the last joy he would ever feel. Another animal voice growled louder than the first. It was Tobias. He had been released to lead the charge. His friends were coming.
The same look of contemplation and conflict fell over Maison’s face. It was not fear or worry. It was calculation. Ammon could hear the words of those approaching. It was Mikael.
“Tobias took off ahead. Hurry! I think something could be wrong.”
Ammon heard Tobias rush forward, then back away, wondering whether he should attack or not. Whatever he had to do to save his best friend. The deeper rumble in the stone ceased, and another loud rustle came as something dove into the trees. Maison’s grip squeezed tighter, drawing blood. He rolled backwards, hurling Ammon up and over his head. Ammon came crashing down onto the rocky surface, the back of his head smashing on rock.
Everything went cloudy. Hands scooped beneath his arms, pulling him into a close embrace. He felt Sadie’s breasts against his back, her breath on his face. “He’s breathing,” she called out.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Ammon heard Mikael demand. Mikael was standing between Ammon and Maison then, but Ammon could still see the look on Maison’s face.
The mask was back with a vengeance. Somehow he had managed to construct a perfect expression of concern and fear. It was so convincing that even Ammon wondered if the last few minutes had been a misunderstanding. His head ached horribly, causing him to remember his dreams from the night before. Of the snow leopard. She seemed to be close. Just as close as L’Nala. But was the she-wolf ever here? Ammon wondered.
He looked around and found Tobias, who was now a rock that Ammon planted his mind on. Tobias still had his teeth bared and was growling furiously at Maison. It tied all of it together within Ammon’s mind, though his head still ached with forgetfulness.
“I was up here this whole time after we saw you all on the beach,” Maison answered with heavy concern in his voice. His performance was flawless. Unless… Could he have been trying to save me this entire time? Ammon shook his head in confusion. He gasped in a tight breath at the motion as pain reached down his spine.
“I saw Ammon emerge, but then his grip slipped. It was an absolute miracle that I was even here,” Maison said.
“Answer my question. Now. What are you doing here?” Mikael repeated.
Maison just stared at him. Chalice stepped forward.
“He comes up here sometimes, to stare at the Emerald Whirlpool. Maison, this looks bad, so you might as well tell them.” Chalice turned towards Mikael and the rest. Sadie was trembling and Liz looked enraged.
“Maison likes to…” Chalice began, but he was choked off as Mikael grasped his throat in a firm grip, his motion quicker than lightning.
“I didn’t. Ask. You.” Mikael swiped chalice’s feet out from under him, then slammed the boy down hard into the ground. Chalice yelped, then lay motionless in the dirt. He was out cold.
“I’ll ask one last time,” Mikael spat out, glaring at Maison. They were dangerously close to approaching the only situation which would permit the killing of another person. Mikael could kill Maison only in defense of himself or his family. It was the law of the land. It was the Cephasonian way.
Before Mikael spoke, Maison pleaded. “As Chalice was about to say. I like to come here and look at the whirlpool. I know it’s not allowed, but I love the colors and the creatures. Please, don’t tell the Levitians.” He knelt down next to his friend then. “And maybe I won’t tell them of your violent act towards an island brother.”
Maison just stared at him. Ammon half expected his brother to rush forward and kick Maison from the edge, but everything stood motionless. The tension in the air seemed like a ripple in time, where the next few moments would lead them down one path from a rare intersection of a thousand significant possibilities. The weight of the situation was nigh overbearing. Amm
on tried to call out, to stop Mikael. But he couldn’t. He was in a sort of shock himself.
Finally, Mikael spoke.
“Let’s go,” he commanded without turning. Sadie helped Ammon up, then placed his arm around her shoulders. The motion made Ammon sick, but his muscles supported his weight. They turned, and Ammon whistled for Tobias to follow. As the pup gave one final kick of dirt as he spun down the trail, Ammon heard Mikael mumble a few words, then follow close behind them.
As they walked down the trail, the words Mikael left with Maison became clear. “I am no fool. Master Lyon will hear about this. You are lucky to be leaving here alive.”
Chapter XX
Keychain
Ammon was soon walking on his own. Sadie and Tobias both stayed close in case he needed support, though he made it back to the Leviticum without falling. They discussed reporting Maison to Master Lyon right away, then decided against it. Ammon’s memories were a bit hazy. He had told his friends everything he could remember.
“So he did attack you,” Mikael said, his voice beginning to tremble once more.
“I think so. But really brother, it’s hard to say. I think it best we wait for now. We all know how large of an accusation that would be. Particularly against Maison, a boy who is usually so quiet and reserved, and who also excels in his studies and duties in the Leviticum. I’m sure the Masters would heed our account, but it would be tough to follow through without concrete evidence. You saw how well he faked it back there.”
They all nodded in agreement. Once they reached the Leviticum, they went their separate ways, for night was coming. Sadie gave him another long hug before whispering quietly in his ear, “You be careful, okay?”
Ammon smiled. “I’m always careful.”
Mikael stayed with Ammon for a while longer, hesitant to leave his brother alone. Just the thought of harm coming to either brother filled them with equal parts agony and fury. They spent some time in the Centre, eventually retiring to their cubes. Ammon laid there for a while, guarded closely by Tobias who was laying at the foot of the bed. Mikael would take him back home to High Forest tomorrow.
Though the memories of the Emerald Whirlpool continued to spin in Ammon’s mind, the next day was rather uneventful. Everyone went about their routines, sharing stories and jokes during meal times and leaving to their beds relatively early. Some saw Tobias walking with Ammon like a shadow, reigniting the stories of a man who used to roam the halls of the Leviticum with a tamed wolf.
This man had been an outsider, but became even moreso with the constant companionship of his beast. Needless to say, a woman became attracted to this man and they fell in love right there on Cephas. Ammon knew his story of Stardust was already a primer for gossip. The momentum would carry on.
Ammon woke up early the next morning. He ran for an hour, alternating hard effort one minute and then an easy pace the next. He then ran around the entire Leviticum and ARC as fast as he could, matching his best time. His body had recovered quickly from the rounds of Star Master, as well as climbing the cliff over the Whirlpool.
During his runs, he pondered on the happenings of the week thus far. One thing held in his mind in particular, and it wasn’t even the aggressive behavior of Maison, though that was also a concern.
What hung highest in Ammon’s mind were the white spots he saw on the dying fish in the Whirlpool, along with the greater number of injured sea animals appearing in the ARC. Was it just coincidence? The Arcanums discussing disease with us, then seeing it for myself? Or had it been something else entirely, perhaps something natural, keeping disease in myths?
But no, he remembered the feeling. When he had seen the spots on the paling fish, he had known immediately what it was. Or rather, what it was not. It was not the way of things.
And what of the animals in the ARC? If that is also disease, then we could use medicines from the ancient world to counteract them. The Arcanums were well-rehearsed in creating such serums from the ancient texts. It would be a simple thing to do, though it would alarm many of the Cephasonians who would inevitably find out about it.
But if this thing of disease and death has really returned form the old world, shouldn’t everyone know about it? Such heavy thoughts began to wear Ammon out, even more so than his workouts, and he spent the afternoon sleeping away the dreariness.
II
The talk of social circles began sparking hype for the weekend beach bonfire. The rumors thus far had set the date for the evening of Sixday. It was discussed like a secret, though it was obvious all parents and Levitians knew better.
It wasn’t even mischievous, except for the fact that they were all up late, and flirting within a romantic atmosphere. There was no real trouble. The most dangerous it ever became was when others dared each other to jump over the fire, or to dip in the cold, black ocean. Yet to the imagination, it was more fun to keep the secrets.
Later that evening, Ammon joined Krystal for another combatives session, where they sparred for over two hours. She taught him a few new holds, including some moves with a knife.
“Protect your wrists. One cut there and you’ll bleed out. Several cuts on the meat of your forearms, and you’ll bleed, but you can keep fighting. You won’t hardly feel more than a static shock. Your skin will seal it. Until later, of course,” she continued, “but by then you can get it bandaged.” She had a few scars of her own from practice with real knives. She probably did this with friends outside of class. Not a good idea.
“Never start a knife fight lightly,” she continued. “In any real knife fight, there are just two outcomes. Either you die, or you almost die.” Duly noted, Ammon thought.
Shortly after their combatives session, Master Lyon decided to address the young ones. All gathered into the Centre just before supper, anticipation building in the hearts of the youth. After a long while, the lights dimmed. Then, Master Lyon descended atop a small platform which seemed to float through the air without support. But they knew better.
The platform was being held in the air using magnets, balancing the push and pull of forces, and creating the illusion of levitation. The technology was incredible, surpassing even the Old World. This same technology was implemented in just one of the Leviticum gym rooms. Ammon had a match with his team tomorrow in this very room. This was where they played Equilibria.
Seeing this technology used outside of the Equilibria gym was surprising to many as mouths gaped in awe. They must have just installed the magnets and stabilizers in here, thought Ammon. Master Lyon liked to keep them entertained, often by adding little accents of joy throughout the Leviticum. He was also the original inventor of the Equilibria technology, as well as co-creator for the game itself. Lyon and his own childhood friends had created the sport, then built the legacy around it.
As Master Lyon reached the crowd, he appeared to be looking each and every one of them in the eyes. He truly cared about them. It was evident in the air in which he carried around him. The air which filled the void between all things, not to separate them, but to connect them. Such substance materialized from the love and understanding of a genuine man.
The sight of Master Lyon reminded Ammon of the Snow Leopard. Remembrance of his dreams came back to him then, zoning him out of the first parts of Master Lyon’s address. A very clear image of the Snow Leopard on the seventh floor flashed in his mind’s eye. She seemed to hold his gaze and presence. He had never seen the entirety of the creature in the light. His imagination must have filled in the gaps. It looked a lot like the bobcats he had seen on Cloud Mountain, though twice the size, and covered in white fur spotted in black, with long tufts of fur on both ears. Its eyes were a piercing sapphire, the light within them seeming almost… human.
Ammon knew that many animals typically had a wild, free look in their eyes. Her eyes were like this, though magnified even tenfold. She was free of many other things. This creature knew these things. Stood above them. She understood. The seventh floor was the medical wing. The elevator had
somehow taken him there the night he had woken up. Unless that hadn’t actually happened, but he was pretty sure it had.
Why that floor? What was the significance of this creature? Why me? So many questions... He shifted these puzzle pieces around in his head, hoping they would align in a way that made sense.
The large cat was adapted for the snow. That seemed obvious. It was very large, almost up to Ammon’s shoulders. He could hear a low rumble now emanating from its chest. Even now, it seemed to be tangible and present. And what a magnificent force it was. Just the thought of it gave it life. Ammon felt as if he should be afraid... He almost wanted to be, to confirm his sanity. But no. All he felt from this creature was peace. Daunting, vibrant peace.
Even so, the setting around them brought him unease. The lighted path. A soothing beast, now walking away into darkness. Into the unknowns.
Ammon snapped back to the present moment, hearing Master Lyon’s familiar saying.