by B L Barkey
“You will stumble, and you will fall. But always keep growing. Always press forward.”
The man arose on the platform and continued to glide around the Centre, always slightly oscillating up and down. The push and pulls of the magnets struggled to hold an object perfectly still. Master Lyon himself, though, demonstrated the most control Ammon had ever seen.
“As I’m sure everyone is aware, next week on Onesday will mark the start of the Trials of Guardians. These trials are held but once a year. Over forty people enter, while only three ever make it. Sometimes, it is less.” He paused for effect, looking away up into the stars. They were finally flickering through the dim sunset.
“These trials last for five days, with less than half making it past hour one. Let there be no mistake. This task is… heavy. But to those who will attempt it, always remember. No matter what happens in those five days, 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.”
He ascended to the brightening lights.
“And to those of you who are not going through the trials. Support your friends! Help them prepare for this incredible journey. After all, the Guardians are who protect our beloved island family. You’ll be surprised by how much your support means to them through this dark and trying time. Soon, you will be going through your own trials, and your friends will in-turn be there for you.
“Enjoy your meal, enjoy your last day of the progression week, and have a wonderful celebration this weekend!”
Nervous giggles rang through the hall. Then Lyon’s tone and eyes went suddenly serious, commanding their attention once more. His tone was hushed, yet Ammon heard him deep within.
“Always remember who you are, your true potential. You are all even another little world and have within you the sun and the moon and also the stars.”
With the tone of finality left echoing on the word stars, he levitated and disappeared through the open ceiling towards the Levitian training center.
Volumes of conversation initiated. Questions arose, addressing the obvious mysteries, such as ‘why would he install Equilibria tech in the Centre’ and ‘I wonder who will make it through the SG Trials’. The crescendo of chatter grew too much for Ammon. He signaled to his friends that he was heading out.
They continued to talk amongst themselves but acknowledged him with a smile. Sometimes Ammon just needed to be alone with his thoughts. This was how he recovered his energy.
Ammon felt there was an unspoken significance to Master Lyon’s address. Something implied with the spirit of things. Ammon’s heart felt warm once more. He felt a strong desire to read some texts about Monoruin.
He did not currently have any books or gliscs containing the knowledge he sought after, so he said his goodbyes, left the Centre, and climbed the stairs to the Index on the second floor. Then he found an aisle filled with the history of Proelum. He found a section designated for the ancient states of the world, and then narrowed it down to books just before the last millennia.
Great unrest was building up in the lands. At this time, Monoruin was not one land mass, but many separate lands with different titles and policies. Such powerful contentions began to arise amongst them, each feeling superior and separate from other humans.
This created tension between world leaders, and soon after, ‘The world was lit on fire.’ This was how history described it. Vivid detail was difficult to find, as if the destruction were too great to comprehend, or no one had actually witnessed it. Yet there were obvious survivors. And perhaps these survivors are hiding it from you now. But why?
A great disappearance of many peoples was recorded the day before the fire was lit, though it was never known where they went. All that Ammon knew was that there was a great kindling lasting two hundred years up until this point. The fire was then lit, and the world burned.
Once the fires and smoke cleared, life began to reappear, larger and purer than ever before. And all lands were combined as one, in a landmass soon dubbed Monoruin. This was the history of Proelum. And Cephas was an island in the singular, massive ocean of the Proelum. But where was Cephas when the world burned?
It didn’t make sense to Ammon. It all seemed so dramatic, so unbelievable. He struggled to comprehend what he read each time. What made the most sense were the underground bunkers that housed many peoples who lived beneath the fire through these trying times. It was said the fire was lit for forty days, and the air was unbreathable for another forty days.
After a third set of forty days, sprouts began to spring from the dirt. Animals emerged from their own protective shelters. Mystery still enshrouded how the land animals survived at all.
Mentions of an ark preserving both human and animal life seemed the most likely. Some fireproof shelter prepared and utilized before the fire was lit. Such an ark may have been influenced from ancient stories of an ark built in the form of a ship, housing many different species of animals and one man’s family as the world was flooded. In this way, Ammon understood an ‘ark’ as any shelter preserving life.
It was never proven as indisputable fact that it had actually happened. But after seeing the whole world burned, people were much more apt to believe in miracles. Mother’s book spoke of such a flood, elaborating on few details. It was curious to Ammon how her book would tie in with well-known world events, while simultaneously holding a different perspective of varied absolutes. Again, he wasn’t sure how much truth her book actually contained. Nevertheless, it spoke of powerful events.
Ammon pulled a book off the shelf above his head, titled “The Construct of Cephas”. He found a quiet little nook nearby with a southern view of the last sunrays fading from the glisten of the ocean. He tucked himself into large cushions and flipped through the pages. He had studied the birth of his island before.
Again, it was a mystery of how it had survived the burning of the world, also known as the Great Fire. It was known for sure that Cephas did exist very soon after the Fire, as if it were constructed before the Fire. The gathering of a plethora of information stored within the seemingly ageless Leviticum; the isolation and protection of so many different land animal and plant species; powers and authorities passed through tradition to the Sector Guard, Levitians, and the other professions.
Guardians and Levitians had to know more. Their traditions came before the world was on fire. They had to know how it was all persevered. It was this discovery which had reinforced Ammon’s desire to join the Guardians. He wanted answers. He wanted knowledge. He wanted power.
He continued to scan the pages of his book, reading a section heading that caught his attention. This heading had been passed over before, but for some reason it rang a new bell within his heart. The section was titled “Keychain”. Nothing particularly prophetic, he thought. Ammon began reading it slowly in his head:
The birth of Cephas Island, along with its population and traditions, is unknown. However, what we can affirm as truth is what exists today. We know that the Leviticum contains a vast index of Proelum’s history, presumably from the beginning of the planet to the current date.
We know that the Levitians are keepers of this knowledge, while harboring additional knowledge of their own. We also know the power of the Sector Guard is real, incomparable. It has been described by Guardians in the past with only vague detail, yet common threads.
Each Guardian felt as if they were called to the position. Each felt a real power granted with their acceptance into the Guardian Temple training. A new power and authority fell over them. A sense of responsibility for the welfare of the world, not just their islands, began to grow in each of their hearts. It was as if a key had been given to each of them at the start of training, slowly unlocking secrets of the world locked deep within themselves. To add to their own keychain of memories.
He thought on this. Keychain. A power locked within them all, even before they began training. A
calling to the Temple. Ammon had no prior knowledge to any of these terms. But at the same time, he felt as if he had known it all along. As if the knowledge were locked inside of him, and had just now been revealed. As if he remembered. This book had been a key to that knowledge. He felt out of breath, elated. He read on:
This power of the Sector Guard seems to emanate around them, always existing as it always has been. With each new Guardian, the power is harnessed in a new, individualistic way. This adds to the power of the whole, binding them together. Sealing them as one. The source of this power is still unknown. It has yet to be named. But it exists, as many accounts can attest.
This power existed before the world was set on fire. Did it exist long before then as well? Is this the same power surrounding many other stories dubbed as fictitious in the history of Proelum? With each answer, we find multiple new questions. Monoruin survived, and was miraculously terraformed from individual parts. Cephas Island survived. Could other islands have survived as well? Why did Cephas remain separate from Monoruin, and why does it still to this day remain isolated from this larger land in the west?
The answers are inseparably connected with the history of the planet as a whole. And it is clearly unfit for these secrets yet to be unlocked to the entirety of mankind. Perhaps the secrets lie with the Guardians of our island, as well as with the Levitians of our knowledge.
The passage ended. Ammon stared at the page. He flipped through the adjacent pages, but found nothing else. He felt as if he were on the verge of discovering a life-altering universal secret. He felt as if it was right in front of him, yet he couldn’t quite grasp it, hold it in his hands, and take it with him, to call it knowledge. It was right there.
But what was ‘it’, exactly? He had speculated before that the Levitians and Guardians may have more knowledge than the rest of them. But such belief was discouraged amongst the apprentices. It wasn’t forbidden, just ignored. Down-graded. To see it written on paper right in front of him. To see it in a tangible form outside his own head.
It confirmed the belief that had always rested in his heart. They know. They are waiting. He could hardly contain his anticipation.
He lied down for another half hour, staring out the window at nothing in particular, a great peace resting on his heart. He slowly stood up with all the patience in the world, then checked out the book from the Index to show to Mikael. He returned to his cube and prepared himself for bed. He gave thanks for all the experiences of the day, then slipped into his dreams, to dance with his new knowledge. The keys to unlock the secrets in his heart. The keychain of memories…
Chapter XXI
Dark Desires
Ammon was there again, though it wasn’t as cold. As his vision came into focus, he realized he could see more that grayscale. He could see colors, though there weren’t many to behold. He saw a soft tan, mixed with greenish cobblestone. He was inside the body of the dark one from before. The one called Conqueror. And he was lying in a massive bed, wrapped in silk blankets. Lying next to him was a naked woman.
As Ammon wrestled between his desire to look upon her and his shame, the body he possessed rolled over to the woman.
Conqueror whispered into Venetia’s crystal ear. His voice echoed on the hard, glistening walls. They were lying in the palace they had created together.
Though it is sourced by the Stone in my heart, filling this current realm that was summoned by her Stone of Voids, I rule it, as I rule this land. And through this land, I rule her…
He traced his hand over her curved body. She is mine, as is her Stone. In this place, they could see more of each other. Not to mention in his chambers, they saw all of each other, though that was a different thing entirely. Ammon could feel the heat rising in his veins. I don’t want to be here, he thought. I want to heed the warnings of the snow leopard. But how?
As Conqueror rolled to his back in contemplation, Ammon’s mind was consumed with the details of this place. The bed was majestic, covered in clouds caught in the finest fabric weaved from spider silk. The sheets were made of several hundred lambs sheared to the bone in the next room, the material still, and forever, warm from young blood.
The furniture itself was made from living trees which were kept alive with nails driven into them, and roots dipped just enough to keep them alive, though never to flourish. The trees produced fruit which overhang, but somehow could produce no leaves, for all energy went into the constantly-replenishing fruit. In this way, Conqueror used his Stone of Dominion over the plant, to command it against its nature. The tree was in excruciating pain, bleeding sap from its wounds.
Should these things seem impossible in the mortal realm, that’s because they were. Such things were only possible in this realm. After all, they were in the realm of dreams. This did not make it any less real for Conqueror and Venetia, nor for their fallen guests in the galas below. That was the power of the Void Stone. It gave power over the winds between worlds, consuming the realms in-between, and making them real.
Ammon heard these thoughts of Conqueror, as if they were words etched in the sand. Many of the concepts escaped his comprehension, similar to complex conversation before a child. Yet he still felt he was learning more this place. He was gathering information on the darkness, on the enemy. Though he wanted to flee, he found solace in this truth.
The bed, in its entirety, was referred to as ‘the Throne’, from which they ruled. The Throne was in the second highest chamber of a moving building. It was not in the highest chamber, for the entire top floor was reserved for Morning, whom filled it with whatever he desired. It just so happened that what Morning wanted there was nothingness, pure and cryptic.
The moving building, like the Throne, was fashioned from captured life. The building was alive, crawling through the dark sands of the realm. The building was a tortoise.
Its shell was hollowed out for celebrations and banquets, its legs stapled with hallways and spikes leading to all its one-hundred floors. Its head dragged on the ground as it walked backwards, as it was guided by the will of its puppeteer, of its conqueror. Of the very Conqueror holding the Dominion Stone. In this blindness, the tortoise feared falling in the chasm. This fear dwelt in its mind unceasingly, overcoming its desire to return home. Conqueror had captured it in another layer of dream realm, dragging it here and performing its architectural surgeries.
Conqueror also avoided the chasm, and so it went that they traveled in a tight circle near the rim. They never traveled far, though. No, though he hated the light across the chasm, it was also his goal. The greatest source of light was a tree, and Conqueror knew how to take trees for himself.
Yet this one had resisted him from the very start. Not only did it resist him, but it rebelled against him, pushing him away. Thus, the tortoise walked away from the light, granting Conqueror reprieve before returning to try once more. The tree also seemed to recharge the tortoise, keeping him moving with little additional sustenance. Though progress was slow, it was indeed moving forward.
“Drowning, our Dulkrye of Water, draws near,” he whispered. “The human vessel is his beacon. He should be there within the day. He leads the charge, with Reverence of Energy right behind him.”
She cringed playfully at his words. “Yes, I imagine so. Morning commanded me to seek Drowning and Reverence after I left his… After I left him. Of course, I saw the opportunity to come visit my lover, though I must leave before Morning comes.”
“Doesn’t morning always ruin the tender moments? Should life someday ever-rest on the verge of morning’s arrival, I would not despise it so.”
“You mean as long as I’m with you.”
He brushed her hair back, looking deep into her, and she thought, I have him. Right there in his eyes, I have him. I rule him. And through him, I rule his land and his heart. And through his heart, his Stone. Is this not the ruling of two Stones? Is this not accomplishing an impossible feat?
“Reverence of Energy has gone off. She leads the charge after D
rowning,” she said, ripping more fruit from the sapping tree.
“Yet Morning still sends you? Will it really take three Dulkrye to take on one Litiguh?”
“Surely not. Yet you know the weight of importance Morning places on that Stone of Matter. Honestly, it seems to me like the blandest stone of them all.”
“Perhaps it only attests to the hidden wisdom of our Lord.” Conqueror cursed himself as he said this. Here I am, defending him who would desecrate my lover, to the lips of that very same woman.
“Perhaps,” she mused, grabbing him. It filled him with elation. Though she played innocent, he knew she was ruling him.
“Take me there,” he whispered.
Venetia searched his eyes, her own bouncing back and forth.
“If you wish,” she said. She kissed him then, and as she did so, she dragged her right hand in the air, as if cutting fabric. A purple line appeared, visible only to the two Dulkrye. The slit folded in slowly, and with the fabric of the realm, the two rose upwards before plunging into it, as if rebirthed.