Stone Of Matter

by B L Barkey

  “My heroes!” yelled Krystal as she ran up and gave Bastion a huge hug from behind.

  “Oh, you know. Just doing what we do,” responded Bastion casually, his cheeks growing slightly pink underneath his thin beard. They were all cleaned up and dressed in casual clothes. They started their walk back to High Forest, enjoying the light stretch for their tired muscles and minds. Ammon was feeling good though, as was Mikael. It had been a successful week of mental recovery for the Trials to come. For they would come, because neither had been notified to have failed the Preliminaries. They had done it. They were going to the SG Trials.

  It was dark out, the moon still glazing the land with a silver sheen. Lanterns were mostly lit, with the final few appearing in the dark at random intervals. More people were on the path now, talking excitedly about the Equilibria game, and the beach bonfire to come. Several cheers of “Go Pandas” warmed them against the brisk, night air. Life was too good in this moment. Everything was in line. The whole week had been great actually, Ammon thought as he reflected on the events that had come to pass. Some weird things too, but overall, a successful week of growth.

  “How did the rest of your combatives go this week?” Ammon called out to Krystal, who was shuffling a small rock back and forth between her feet.

  “It was good! Learned a few new holds, and finally made some progress with the knife fighting. It’s a skill I never hope to have to use in real life.”

  “Yeah,” Ammon agreed, listening intently.

  “Still, all that practice makes me want to use the skills too. It’s a confusing internal struggle.”

  Ammon could understand that.

  “So, nobody give Krys an excuse to knife you this weekend,” said Bastion, looking forward. Krys stopped in front of him, causing him to run into her. He kept walking and she shuffled in the dirt.

  Mikael laughed to himself. Ammon looked out towards High Forest. He was excited to return to the less humid, cooler climate found there. To see Mother and Father. To relax in his home.

  Ammon heard someone approaching quickly from behind and turned around to see who it was. His heart was in his throat. Reality struck him like a tidal wave. It’s Maison. Then the figure appeared. The needles in Ammon became echoes of relief. It was Jonah.

  “What’re you doing here, slacker? I thought you had apprentice duties tonight,” said Mikael, speaking for all of them.

  “Turns out they had enough for the lighting, but I am to return in an hour for night watch,” he answered, speaking the last bit with his chest puffed out and chin held high, mocking the Levitians.

  “That sounds like fun,” said Mikael.

  Jonah was out of breath from excitement. “Ammon,” he heaved. “Guys. I found more information on the Legend of the Levitians. This is going to make your day.”

  He knew that Ammon specifically was interested in how the Leviticum and its protectors had come to exist.

  “I think Ammon’s day has already been made. He’s been smiling like an idiot ever since he came up from the beach tonight,” said Bastion. Ammon gave him a look of mild surprise. Was he really smiling that big?

  “You forget, Ammon is always smiling. I’m pretty sure his face is stuck like that,” said Krystal, using her fingers to squish her cheeks into a huge, goofy smile.

  “Jonah, let’s hear what you found,” said Mikael, refocusing their attentions.

  “Ok. Wait wait! First off, did you guys make it into the Trials?”

  Bastion and Krys looked shocked. “Oh yeah!” Krys cried. Ammon and Mikael shrugged.

  “Well, we haven’t heard anything yet,” Ammon said.

  “So you haven’t been denied?” Jonah said, almost shrieking now.

  Ammon and Mikael shook their heads, knowing what would come next.

  “Then you made it! You’re in! Oh man, we knew you guys would make it!” Jonah yelled, hardly sitting still.

  “But we still have to pass the Trials,” Ammon said, “And who knows who else is going. Anyways, enough about us. What’re you here for Jonah?”

  The boy blinked, then started again.

  “Yeah, yeah! Ok, so I was in the Leviticum and was looking in a new section of books. Most of them were just reconditioned versions of older books, so I grew bored. Quickly. As I was walking away, one of the books fell from off the shelf.”

  “It fell?” asked Krystal, with more than a hint of doubt in her voice.

  “I kid you not. I don’t know how, but it fell and landed sprawled open. I picked it up and closed it, looking at the cover. The title was “Levitians: An Ancient Profession”.

  He had their attention now. They queued him to go on with their silence, an eager look in their eyes.

  Jonah began. “It is said that the Levitians have kept the Indices of the world from the beginning of time. Ever-recording history from the back row, they have been present for every major event on the planet. There have always been Levitians, most without the full power thereof.

  "Some, however, reach the level of True Levitian. These True Ones watched the history of the world unfold, from the outside in, preserving it even until this very day. After a short time, the Levitians would begin to fade, dark forces of each generation seeking them out and eradicating them.

  "The only Levitians that persevered were those with the true power. The True Ones. However, it is believed that even the True Ones have tasted extinction throughout human history. Even more astounding is how these disappearances can be traced to six specific eras where the world was considerably darker in knowledge and understanding.

  “A seventh and final extinction was sought after just over a thousand years ago, through what we know as the Ending War. When the Ending War took place, the True Levitians somehow pulled through, although how they managed this is a complete mystery. It is unclear where they went from there.”

  Krystal interrupted. “What do you mean it is unclear? Aren’t they here on Cephas? What about Master?”

  Jonah continued, “That’s exactly what I thought. But it turns out that there is no physical proof that our Levitians are at all the same as the True Levitians of old. The Index of our Leviticum is nearly unfathomable in its content, to the point where our Levitians would have to be endowed with some sacred power of trust, to be the keepers for all the remaining secrets of the world. Even so, they hold only a smidgeon of the true power. It seems likely that they are descendants from this legend. But…”

  Jonah paused for a moment, catching his breath.

  “…The true power of the Levitians stretches far beyond textbooks and gliscs. We are talking a force that would rival the Sector Guard, or possibly dwarf it entirely.”

  Ammon chuckled. If only you were there to see it. The day the Guardians moved a mountain. The five of them walked in silence, pondering what Jonah had just said. After a few moments, he spoke again.

  “It is unknown whether there are more Levitians outside of Cephas. Either way, it is an incredible honor and everlasting responsibility to be among their ranks.

  Bastion cleared his throat, then said, “Wouldn’t we know if they had some greater power? Wouldn’t our parents know? I feel like this is vital information for all of us to have in order to protect our island.”

  Jonah continued, searching their faces for understanding. “You guys all know how secretive our Levitians are. They have their own wing for Cephas sake. Atop the Seventh floor? Inaccessible to anyone else, without even stairs or elevators to get there. Remember the kid who scaled the wall two years ago, Kianton? He attempted to enter the Levitian wing from the outside. Last we heard, he was caught and reprimanded. And think about it, when was the last time you guys saw Kianton?”

  Ammon thought about it. He had known Kianton since early childhood, but never spent much time with him. He always remembered seeing him in the tops of trees or scaling a rock face. It had been no surprise when he tried to scale the Leviticum wall. And he had made it, seen cresting the Levitian wing by many. What he must have seen then…
snow leopard…

  “Now that I think about it,” Ammon started, “I don’t think I’ve seen him even once since then.”

  “I have,” said Bastion, first with a raspy voice, and then repeating himself louder. “I’ve seen him. We would always see him in trees or on roofs of the houses in High Forest. I saw him a few months back, sitting on the ground, leaning on a tree, staring at the grass. There was a small ant hill next to his leg. He was nudging it with his toes. You know how bad those ants hurt when they bite? Yeah, well I saw them crawling all up and down his legs. Either they weren’t biting, or he was resistant to pain, because not once did I see him do more than blink and lick his lips.”

  Ammon was stunned. How had he not noticed Kianton’s absence before now? Very odd indeed. The boy must have been quite traumatized after his reprimanding. Or from what he saw there. Ammon hushed his inner voice.

  Mikael had been silent thus far, and finally chimed in.

  “How can we tell if the Levitians hold the true power thereof? How do we know if they are descendants of the Levitians of old? What is a True One like?”

  “If the story itself is even true…” Krystal mumbled under her breath.

  They all looked at her. She returned the look with contempt.

  “I mean, come on! The ‘true power thereof’? What is this, story time? Grow up boys. We have seen the Levitians for most of our lives, and never have we seen anything spectacular about them. They are plain men and women. No offense, Jonah. It’s fine that you want to become one. Even so, this story is fake. These ancient and legendary Levitians were never real at all. It’s a tale to get people like us to believe in a fallacy, a myth. To make something normal seem abnormal and special, mystified. Again, no offense Jonah my love.”

  Her final comment left Jonah blushing. Krys was obviously worked up, so Ammon held onto the thoughts revolving in his head. He personally loved the idea of a greater power. This perhaps was the main reason the SG appealed to him so much. He wanted to believe it. But Krys was right. Just because he wanted it to be real, didn’t mean it was.

  “Did you check out the book?” Ammon asked, withholding his excitement.

  “That’s the thing. As I carried it to the front desk, a Levitian stopped me. He asked for the book back. I told him I was going to check it out, but could bring it back the next day. He said it wasn’t available for borrowing, and never should have been there in the first place.”

  “Then how did it get there?” Mikael asked for them all.

  “That’s the mystery, I suppose,” Jonah said, shrugging. “He spoke of cleaning the reserved sections, and how sometimes books get mixed up.

  “Who was the Levitian?” Mikael asked.

  “Not sure, honestly. I know I should, since I’m training to become one. He was younger, and also… well. Now that I think about it. He was hooded. I never saw his face clearly. Nor did I desire to, which is unlike me. I hate the hoods. Too suspicious for me.”

  How indeed, thought Ammon. The only thing that made sense to Ammon that it was placed there by someone, for some specific purpose. If that purpose were for Jonah to find it, and to then relay the legend to them, then obviously it had been successful. But why? The legend was certainly interesting, but nothing particularly revolutionary to their group of friends. And if it wasn’t available in the Leviticum previously, didn’t that mean it had to have come from the Levitians in the first place? So why take back the book before Jonah left with it? Could there be other secrets within this particular book? He would discuss it with Mikael later.

  The rest of his friends had moved on, now talking about other happenings during the last week. After a few more minutes, Jonah left them and made his way back towards the Leviticum, having forgotten his study materials in the Centre. As he faded into the background, Ammon thought again of Maison. Just then, he wished protection on all his best friends.

  II

  After another half hour they began a slow incline towards the foothills of Cloud Mountain, nearing the staircase to High Forest. The moon was covered by lone wisps of cloud, yet the stars seemed to shine brighter than ever. It had to be his imagination, but Ammon was sure he caught the scent of a home-cooked meal on the wind. It was the crisp crust of a meat pie. He was starving, having yet to eat since the Equilibria game. This was unlike him, since he usually ate two portions right after any workout. So there was a chance he was imagining the meat pie aroma. And yet, his hopes were up.

  They continued up the grade then climbed the staircase, entered the trees, and paused out front of Ammon and Mikael’s home. They said goodbyes to Krystal as Bastion followed them inside.

  “Mum, Papa. We’re home,” Bastion called out. Ammon and Mikael snickered as they pulled off their shoes and moved into the family room. All the happenings from the previous week caught up with them all as they collapsed on the couches. The fireplace was lit, emanating an orange glow through the mellow darkness resting in the room. Various musical instruments were displayed on the walls, including one recreated from the ancient world, known as a violin. This was Father’s favorite.

  Ammon had been taught the language of music by his parents before he could walk. He had never obtained mastery over any of them in particular. His strength, instead, was figuring out the basics for almost any new instrument, before creating his own ballads. His songs were often simple, yet enticing. His story of Stardust had been a culmination of many hours of practice.

  A large rug was draped on the floor between the couches and the fireplace. It had been created from an animal that lived its life in the sea, yet somehow had adapted a thicker fur coat than any animal on land. The beast was never found in the ancient texts, and yet here it was, lying on their floor. Father had found it on a voyage in his youth. He had slain it and brought it back, to then prepare the hide for domestic life, while stripping it of its muscle.

  Ammon could still recall the delicious taste of the meat on his lips. It was during this meal that he learned to truly appreciate the spirit of giving thanks for another life taken to sustain others. His own family, extinguishing this rare creature from the world, had taken its body and its fur. It was humbling to know that it was now a part of them, as well as a part of their home. The meat was its muscle. Muscle was its hard-earned strength and energy, stripped and cooked for their own nourishment.

  As they laid there, soaking in the peace of their home, Mother came in with plates of food.

  “Oh no way! You’re the best mom ever,” Mikael exhaled, jumping up to help.

  “No honey, sit back down. You guys worked hard this week I’m sure. You only have two days to recover before the Trials. Besides, it’s time to celebrate! My boys will be Guardians!”

  Her eyes took on a distant gleam. “Enjoy your meals, and eat it all up,” Mother said, setting plates on each of their laps.

  Bastion looked at her and said, “Really? Eat it all? You know we will probably be back in the kitchen for seconds and thirds right?”

  She laughed, handing each of them forks and napkins. “Ah yes, well, old habit I suppose. It used to be a real struggle to get all of you to sit still long enough to take even one bite. I suppose that was over ten years ago though…” she finished, almost to herself, disappearing back into the kitchen. And of course, sitting right in front of him, was a fat slice of meat pie.

  Whether his mother’s cooking was predictable, he was psychic, or his sense of smell was just impeccable, Ammon could not tell, nor did he care. Regardless, his previous thought of meat pie had been spot on. And thank Gen for that.

  As promised, they went back into the kitchen for seconds. And then thirds. By the fourth plate, the food lost its appeal. Ammon could hardly move. All three boys helped clean the dishes, knocking it out quickly. They laid back down on the couches, embracing the warmth of the fire once more. After a few moments of jest and jibber-jabber, Father walked in wearing his leather shoes, his shorts, and a thick, long sleeve button up. His brown hair was tossed to the side, his glass
es barely clinging on to his nose.

  “I imagine you boys know what time it is,” he said, strolling over to one of the five stringed instruments on the wall, and pulling it from its decorative restraints. “Besides, time to congratulate my boys on passing the Prelims! And Bastion, we celebrate your constant finesse and love of animals. You just keep on being you, my son.”

  Father sat in his chair before them, immersed in the faintest glow from the fireplace. Mother sat in her arm chair behind her easel, then sat back without grabbing a brush. Ammon felt excitement rising in his chest. This is what life is all about, he thought. Family, food, and fiddles.

  They loved when Father played his violin. He was good with all instruments, though none seemed to resonate with him as naturally as the violin. The beautiful sound seemed to paint a picture for both eyes and ears, and even for the soul. Music, when created from the heart, could express the love of another spirit more eloquently than any other medium of communication. At least, that’s how Ammon felt.