by B L Barkey
“Now, before I hand them out, I want to say something. It seems that many of you attempted to fill in your own content, and then pass them off as Ammon’s own words. I say this because many of your papers seem to be collaborated in an attempt to reference how Ammon spoke of my class as a world of its own, and how it could almost be likened to a world that collected trash from all other worlds. ‘A Wasteland of wasted time’ was the direct quote, I believe.
“You have attempted to frame your fellow student Ammon. I will see each of you, that is to say, two thirds of the entire class, held back one year in your apprenticeships.”
Ammon was in shock. He was frozen, solid and cold. He looked at Bozolf, who would not look back, as if he were waiting for something.
“I did,” Ammon choked.
“What was that, boy?” said Bozolf softly, finally looking at him.
Ammon realized that his words had not made sense. “I did say those things.”
“What things?” Bozolf asked.
“All of them. I did liken your class to a world resembling a wasteland. Many of those other quotes you probably read… I did. And I did.”
Bozolf bit his lip, yet he did not look the least bit enraged. He had known exactly what had happened. He had known all along. He had probably even heard Ammon when he had originally said it, then faked ignorance.
And that’s when Ammon realized the greater truth. He had been correct in assuming that Bozolf was collecting ammunition against each of them all along. He was incorrect, however, in assuming that Bozolf was not always watching. He was like the Sun. He was watching, with all his senses but his eyes, and three times was he doing so, even when he responded as if not listening at all.
This had instead been an indication of something else entirely. An applause, for you had given him exactly what he wanted. Bozolf had smiled, even in that first class. Had actually smiled. It had been genuine, as if a funny joke had been whispered in his ear. And it was a funny joke. A joke he was playing on Ammon. What a fool I’ve been, Ammon thought.
“Well, this is a shocking development,” Bozolf said with a stern, yet casual voice. “Have you anything in your defense, son of Delkai?”
“All I have is a question,” Ammon said, scooting his chair back and standing up. His tone was firm. He was done playing this fool’s game. It was time to be bold. Caution had proved itself futile.
“My question is about your popular belief concerning the evolution of man. I’ve wondered how a certain personality trait has persisted, if such evolution is indeed true.”
“I must say, boy. It seems as if you are stalling,” Bozolf scoffed.
“Master Bozolf, I promise you, it will tie in perfectly. Have patience, as you would say?” Ammon had abandoned all restraints. His heart was pounding in his chest.
Bozolf all but drooled, as if every word Ammon spoke was another spike in the coffin of demise.
Ammon continued. He was done awaiting permission. “I believe malice and unpleasantness in man would fall away as an inferior trait. A trait unsuitable to human survival. Someone as entirely unpleasant and bitter as you, Master Bozolf, would soon learn that being that way makes only enemies, and spawns negative outcomes. If man were in fact created by evolution, instead of a creator, I would think that this particularly unpleasant, fatal trait of yours would have disappeared with the evolving man.”
Ammon took a breath. The rest of the class had stopped breathing long ago.
“But as we see, someone so evolved as yourself still possesses such a distasteful characteristic. This in itself seems to support a created world, as opposed to a sporadically evolved world, as you so teach. Either this, or you are a prehistoric fool in possession of an inferior trait.”
The smile on Bozolf’s face had vanished. Ammon had gone too far. He knew it. And he didn’t care. Waves of relief washed over him, having finally spoken the words of his heart.
“You have no idea what you speak of, boy.” Bozolf spit the last word like a curse. He continued. “Perhaps you would do better to follow in your father’s footsteps. He didn’t have strength in academia, either. And your foolish mother, who believes in this creator. Teaching their children lies. Both are better suited for sowing grass seeds than sewing knowledge into young minds.”
Ammon looked over at his brother. Mikael was clenching his teeth and fists. He would stand up at any moment, ready to strike back.
He had to act fast. He was already in trouble. It didn’t have to be both of the Delkai brothers who went down. It was hard to make Mikael mad. But if you did, you would immediately regret it.
Ammon laughed aloud then, shocking the other students. Several yelps escaped some of the girls. Even Mikael looked over, stunned.
“And herein proves my theory,” Ammon began, standing up. “Without, as you would say, ‘useless’ people like my father and mother, who keep the crops of Cephas growing in such an efficient fashion as to yield higher than 95-percent crop production, you would die of starvation. So, I suppose it is because of greater men, like my father and mother, that lesser men, like close-minded baboons like you, may survive. Ahh, yes. It all makes sense now. Thank you for your guidance, teacher of nonsense, master of nothing, except for, perhaps, idiocracy.”
Ammon bowed, then turned towards the door. Thick silence hung behind him, all quiet but the sharp tap of a pencil hitting the floor.
II
“Master Bozolf was in Lyon’s office right after class, holding what looked like a book of reasons why you should be denied entry into the Sector Guard Trials,” Jonah said, having caught up to Ammon and Mikael after class.
“Yeah, but you should have heard him insult our parents,” Mikael said through gritted teeth. Jonah was surprised at the anger in his usually peaceful friend.
“Well, even so,” Jonah began with a sideways look. “You’ve given him a pretty solid reason to hold you back.”
“Yeah right,” Ammon said. “Master Lyon would never let the word of that Lone Levitian ruin my path.”
“So you say…” Jonah mumbled as they walked on to Master Kodin’s class. “I hope you’re right.”
The room Kodin used for lessons was bright as ever, as the Sun beamed through multiple windows and mirrors in the Leviticum to eventually refract all along the etchings in the marble walls. The etchings of the trees stood out to Ammon in particular today. He traced the intricate paths in the bark on the way to their seats, then looked up to see they were sitting beneath the canopy of the carved wood. Though far from the actual colors of nature, the spirit of it was still there.
Ammon was surprised to see Chalice in this class as well, still quiet as a buried stone. Perhaps he had learned some humility for once. The class was full, buzzing with the talk of the Equilibria game, the bonfire, and the upcoming Trials.
Master Kodin swept in right on time, dressed in the usual robe of the Levitians. He pulled out all his materials, paused to think, then shoved all the materials back in his bag. The rest of the class was still chattering about the upcoming events, but Ammon had been watching. He nudged Mikael and they both laughed. Master Kodin stopped once more, looked out over all his students, inhaled deeply with a smile, and then sang.
“Good afternoon, young Cephasonians! I will get straight to the point. I’ve heard you had a rather unpleasant class of Worlds with my intellectual counterpart this morning, and I would like to catch us up on the materials.”
He shuffled his feet and hands, then continued.
“Also. I have been instructed to start class with a reminder.”
He pulled a note from his robe pocket. He cleared his throat, and began reading it as if each word stood alone.
“Remind. All. Young ones. To show proper respect to the Levitian masters.”
After finishing, he stared at the page, before folding it up and returning it to his robes.
“Well then. That is that.”
He sounded cheerful, though Ammon was afraid he might be disappointed. Surely if h
e had heard of the disturbance, he had heard who had caused it. Yet Kodin didn’t seem annoyed in the least. In fact, he tossed out some fresh plums from his own private garden, and somehow ended up tossing Ammon the largest, ripest one. Rarely were things coincidence with Kodin. It’s his way of things, Ammon thought, laughing quietly. He sank his teeth into the fruit. It was the sweetest plum he’d ever tasted.
“Now,” Kodin began. “While you devour those delicious morsels, I have something for your minds to chew on.” He reached behind his back with one hand, then brought it back out. With a sudden flourish, he threw his hand into the air before him, releasing whatever it contained. A black cloud appeared before him. It then dissipated at very specific angles, forming many various new clouds. Each of the black clouds were on the same plane, as if it were chalk written on an invisible chalkboard.
“Miraculous,” Kodin muttered aloud, looking at the clouds before him. It seemed that not even he had been prepared for what had just happened.
“What you see here is the further result of Master Lyon’s new installments of magnetism technologies within the Leviticum. When he handed this pouch to me this morning,” Kodin said, swinging the pouch out from behind him, “he told me one thing. ‘Write your notes in this new software, and toss this into the air over the yellow dashed line.”
Kodin looked down then, as did the rest of them. There was a distinctly dashed and yellow line stretching before Kodin. Directly above this line was the plane of the black clouds. “This,” Kodin announced, while spreading both hands before him, “is your new chalkboard.”
He paused.
“Isn’t it insanely cool?!” he called, clearly ecstatic. The rest of the class guffawed at the shear childish joy of the grown man. It was a trait that all revered, and few perfected. Kodin was the master of it, if there ever was one.
Ammon then realized the black clouds were already formed into letter. They shifted then into the notes Kodin had previously inscribed. His notes thus far consisted of only one sentence. It read ‘This is the only sentence that will be written in our notes today.’
“Did everyone get that?” Kodin asked the class. There was a tangible enlightenment to the mood as everyone laughed and relaxed. It was a relief to know this class would not be anything like their morning class.
Kodin swiped something on another screen before him. The dark particles collected into one perfect sphere in the center of the line. Kodin walked up to it and snatched it from the air, before placing it back into his pouch.
“As I said, we will be covering the materials of this morning’s class as well. As is often the case, we will discuss the same question. How do you create or destroy a world?”
Kodin was sitting atop of his desk now, his legs swinging back and forth ever so slightly. Many of the same students from Bozolf’s class raised their hands, with almost the exact same wording and emotion behind each answer. Surprisingly, Kodin’s reactions were very similar to those of Bozolf. There was a particular subject they were directing them towards. The difference between last class and this class, though, was that Ammon was not hesitant to contribute.
“Yes, Ammon?” Kodin called.
“Master, there was a wonderful comment in last class that hasn’t been repeated yet. It was from,” Ammon paused, looking to his friends around him.
“Yen,” one boy answered. They all looked around for this girl, but she was absent. Ammon almost felt bad for bringing this to everyone’s attention, then moved on.
“She had said that she thinks there might be three ways, to either create or destroy worlds. Either from within, from without, or else it is impossible.”
“And what an insightful comment of Yen!” Kodin cried out. “It is a shame she cannot join us this afternoon. She was feeling ill after her lunch with me today. But go on, Ammon. I can see you have more to say.”
“Yes Master,” Ammon answered. “When she had said this, it got me thinking. In all of our history books of countries in the ancient world, almost all of them were destroyed in this way. Either by outside forces, or a crumbling of internal structure and morals. New countries were then created, either by the inspiration of good will within the founders, or by command from another outside country. Of course, it was never impossible to destroy these countries, for everyone of them eventually fell.”
“Every one of them?” Kodin asked.
“Yes,” Ammon said, though he did not feel as sure of his answer as he sounded. Kodin shrugged. Ammon continued.
“Each of these lands eventually fell from within or without. Then Bozolf… excuse me, Master Kodin. Master Bozolf then asked us to speak specifically on planets. So, I would wonder if Proelum is truly the same. If it was created from either within or without. If it might be also destroyed in the same manner.”
“Then, another girl had said…”
“Ling!” yelled several students at once, playfully mocking him.
“Oh for Cephas sake! Yes, Ling! Sorry sorry,” Ammon said, laughing.
“Ling had then said she personally believed Proelum was created somewhere else, and was now on a path to be immortalized. Hence, Proelum would indeed have been created, only to never be destroyed. She then mentioned how we, too, might be very similar in this creation and destiny. Which then got me thinking about Master Lyon’s infamous saying. The one above the entrance to the Leviticum. ‘Always remember who you are, what is your true potential.’”
“You are all little worlds and have within you the sun and the moon and the stars,” Kodin finished. “Yes, a wonderful addition to this lesson. Please, go on,” he said.
Ammon blushed slightly.
“Well, that’s it, really. I know there’s more, but that’s about as far as I’ve gotten, master. That’s the most I can put into words, at least.”
Kodin laughed cheerfully. Mikael raised his hand then, speaking just as Kodin pointed to him.
“I had wondered similar thoughts as my brother, though mine led me to think of what it really means for us to remember our true potential. What is our true potential?”
Mikael’s comment had turned into a question. Kodin seemed to pick it up right on queue, as if waiting for that exact moment.
“That, is what it’s all about, isn’t it? Why are we here? Why were we created? Either by a Creator or some random happenstance of chemicals…”
The tone changed slightly, as if Kodin were about to say something he shouldn’t. He muttered a syllable, then went to the classroom door and shut it tight. He walked back over to his desk, resumed his sitting position, then spoke.
“Glory. Light. Life. These things are all the same. Now, most of what I’m about to say is conjecture. It is what I believe, from what I have read and experienced myself. I have observed many of these principles even in nature. I have learned that nature can be the greatest of teachers.
“What I believe is that, yes, we will all be immortalized in some form or another. We were all created, as was Proelum. We will all live on forever. Some of us will continue to grow forever, while others will not. This is when the idea of infinite suddenly becomes slightly comprehensible. If we continue to grow forever, then eventually our power and strength will be infinite. The words I use for this, personally, are salvation and exaltation. That is all I will say on those, but I do believe they apply to our planet as well.
“Now, a bit of a side note, though the importance is high. Do you truly realize how wonderful your parents are? We Levitians create art, and help mold your minds. But your parents created little creators. We create new paintings, but they create new painters. It is divine. It is sacred. It is important, yet it is perhaps the most natural thing there is on this planet. Again, glory and life, light and world, intertwine.
“Do you ever wonder at the symbolism of a man and a woman creating new life together? Think of it. Though not in the way that most of you young ones do.” There was a bashful chuckle around the room.
“Think of what the symbolism is. It takes a man and a wo
man coming together to create new life.” He stifled a small cough. “Life that we have discussed as having been created somewhere else, which is now passing through along a certain path to immortality. If the planet is the same way, then who is the mother and father of the planet? Is it the same mother and father that originally created us, only to pass us through the symbolic relationship of our own parents? That’s not to diminish their roles in your life. They are your real, earthly parents in this life.”
Jenny raised her hand. “I’ve thought of this before too! How perhaps man and woman come together as the painter and the canvas do. The canvas provides the substance of infinite possibility, while the painter brings order to it. And together, they create something new and alive, and wonderful!” Her voice grew high with elation. Kodin only laughed.