Stone Of Matter

by B L Barkey

  He aimed for the moon. A few landed to the left, then to the right. Another too short, another too far.

  Finally, he sunk one right in the middle. And then another. He let the reflection settle, and then aimed again. Three in a row. He watched the reflection settle once more. A warm breeze brushed past his legs, sending a chill up his spine. He refocused on the reflection of the moon, which now showed a dark figure in its center. He squinted his eyes, blinking once, twice.

  The figure was still there, a black line stretching the full diameter of the pale lunar body. What is that?

  He thought to look up at the real moon, then felt reluctant to do so. He was frozen stiff, a new chill circulating in his blood. He forced his fingers to twitch, proving he was still in control of his body. In defiance of his natural instincts, and with great effort, Ammon slowly raised his eyes to the black figure in the center of the moon.

  III

  Silence. Stillness all around. It was still there, even larger now. The black figure in the moon, visibly growing, stretching past the borders of the glowing orb. He felt he should do something though he didn’t know what. His heart raced in confusion.

  A sudden screech ripped through the air, and the black figure was thrown perpendicular from whence it came, while a smaller white figure continued along the moon beams. In an instant, the white figure collided with the surface of Mirror Lake, sending shards of glass flying towards the shore. Ammon covered his face with his arm, turning away from the scene as he fell backwards. He scrambled on all fours, snapping back to his own existence and taking shelter behind a large boulder.

  He heard another screech. It turned his veins to ice as it grew thrice as loud as before. Then came another collision with the lake, splashing water over the boulder onto his head. He stared ahead into the trees, his back firm against the boulder. He could hear the water coursing through the stones, blending into the rushing wind. Water continued to shower down in a haze.

  Ammon looked up to see black clouds creeping over the moon. The scene grew darker. He felt as if suspended in a dark room with no windows, held in place by thousands of strings sewn to his skin, where he felt the needles of cold and fear piercing through him. What can I do? Why can’t I move?

  Trees were creaking, swaying, and bending to the sudden crescendo of the wind. Ammon was splashed in the eyes with what felt like daggers. He brought his feet underneath him, leaping up to peer over the boulder. The unceasing wind blurred the surface of the lake. He stared into its depths. What is happening? He was on edge, prepared for the next surprise.

  Yet nothing occurred. He felt a slight rumble as flashes of light approached from the distance. No, not from the distance. Right above him. Thunder cracked, shredding the silence and knocking him over once more. Now pressed against the dirt, he could feel another rumble within the mountain. It grew stronger, shaking all pebbles around him.

  Another explosion shot from the lake, showering the entire clearing with liquid shrapnel. The water was warm as it fell upon his clothes, then hot after seeping through his clothes and scalding his flesh. He fell towards the trees, crawling under them in time to hear another screech, stretching through eternity and halting time itself.

  Ammon covered his ears, whirling around to look at its source. Despite the dark backdrop of thunderclouds, he could see its outline. The creature hung in the air, a distinguishable shadow the shape of an impossibly large eagle. Its wings were outstretched, revealing a yellow glow emanating from its chest. The glow threw jagged rays into the levitating pit of darkness. Its form shifted against the pressure of the dark eagle, appearing as a condensed ball of lightning.

  The wings of the dark eagle beat down with blinding speed, shooting itself and its glow into the clouds. Seconds later, the dark eagle plummeted from the sky… now in a vice grip from another creature. This one was easily ten times larger, though it also had a glow in its chest. Its glow was green. Could this be the same light? he thought, confused.

  The dark eagle then grew massive arms and legs of its own, its outline still unstable. It all seemed to be happening in slowed time, though Ammon knew it was due to the creatures’ size. Boulders shot up from the ground, filling in the larger shadow now outlined with its green glow, creating a more tangible creature. The rock beast then pinned the dark eagle’s wings to its body as they fell from the sky. Ammon followed their trajectory. His heart stopped beating. They’re headed right for the Bay. The bonfire. Mikael. Bastion. Krys. Jonah… Everyone.

  With no thought of what he could do to protect them, he launched himself towards the trail and bounded down the mountain.

  IV

  Sporadic lightning bolts ripped through the sky, staining his vision with colorless sketches of terrain. It was undistinguishable whether the sounds that followed were thunder, or manic screeches from the beasts. Yellow flashed in front of him, faint and flickering. Green swallowed it, then diminished as the yellow flared over the skies. Back and forth they went, ripping at one another and decimating the land.

  The trees grew thicker. Ammon was relying on his muscle memory to get him to the fork in the trail. Moments later, he slid to a halt in the dirt and pounced to his right down the trail which reached the Bay. Branch after branch whipped his face. Lightning grew so frequent, he felt he was running at noon day.

  Right foot to tree root. Jump, exhale on landing. Heavy breath, doesn’t matter. Must get there. Help them. Fall down the mountain, let gravity take over.

  Wild beasts of the forest flashed in his peripherals, his imagination mostly to blame. Fanged baboons watched him, licking their lips to his desperation. One such imagination took matter and life upon itself, then howled. But then it was behind him, indicating his own incredible speed.

  Another shape was approaching on his left. He waited, then turned to strike. As he rotated, he saw the creature’s bright eyes. L’Nala. He nearly cried with relief as the wolf matched his pace, staying in the trees. Other creatures appeared for a but a brief moment, before fleeing before the first daughter of the Mother-Wolf.

  Rumblings in the heavens grew louder, causing tremors in the world.

  Doesn’t matter. Faster. Gotta get there. Was that thunder, or another screech? Doesn’t matter. Faster. Where did the storm come from? Low branch coming, duck under. Jump from large rock, leap over other rock. Exhale on landing. Touch ground for balance. Push forward. Faster. Barefoot, shoes left behind. Doesn’t matter.

  After what felt like both seconds and years later, Ammon burst from the trees, giving way to a vast expanse of sand. His breathing deepened. His speed slowed, then ceased. There he stood, anchored to the world by sand alone, for all hope had just left him. His body screamed for air, but he couldn’t breathe. L’Nala howled from the trees behind him, as did her mother from further away.

  The scene before him was grotesque. It was hard to grasp as he blinked over and over, trying to understand. With what little he saw, he formed one thought. This can’t be real. An opening from the fiery pits of hell blazed in the center of his vision, surrounded by scattered bodies dead in the sand. The bodies, now burnt husks, of his friends and loved ones.

  Visions of ripping fire, scents of cooked meat, and tremors of sound beat against Ammon until it was too much. He fell to his knees, unable to look away. His legs were convulsing as his chest fell still. He felt a new cold within, unmatched by anything he had felt before.

  It weighed on him, absorbing all his energies, including the energy which fed one’s desire to live. He heard echoes from recent voices, as if they were there beside him. Mother and Father Arcanum. ‘Fear,’ they spoke in unison. ‘Darkness. Disease. You must escape, Ammon. Don’t let it swallow you. You must protect us all.’ His vision began to fade. He couldn’t protect anyone. He had no energy.

  “Ammon, get down.”

  He gasped for air and fell flat. He rolled to his side, then gazed longingly at the chaos above, begging for release from his pain.

  “Ammon.”

  He
heard the voice again. It sounded the same, hushed but distinct. I didn’t imagine it after all. ‘Twas not the stars calling me home. Though he knew not from whence it had come, he trusted this powerful voice.

  “Ammon, over here!” he heard again. One of the corpses to his right rolled over and waved its arms. It had long, unsinged hair and medium build. It was Mikael.

  Ammon low crawled through the sand, splashing it in his eyes and hair. It took all that he had not to get up and run to his brother. Could the others be alive? Surely they had all been dead before…

  Halfway to Mikael, Ammon heard another crack rip from behind. He looked back to see flames raging, directly where he had breached the trees. An eruption of debris scattered over the beach. Yellow and green tendrils of liquid lightning struck the ground, writhing against each other as boulders crashed around them. They cracked and exploded, then vanished with a break of the sound barrier, leaving all human ears ringing.

  Ammon threw his hands over his head, just in time to block another wave of debris. He kept his head down, breathing in sand. Then, horrified, he realized L’Nala had been behind him. Just as images of her charred body flashed through his mind, he heard a howl. It was loud and commanding, though too weak to shake the ground. L’Nala was okay.

  He arose from the ground, crawling on all fours like a bear. He crashed into the sand next to his brother and embraced him.

  “I thought you were dead!” Ammon panted. “I thought you were all dead!” He looked behind Mikael, recognizing the other bodies as Bastion and Krys, as well as Sadie, Jaqlin and a few others. They were all there, alive and gasping, eye white with horror.

  “What’s happening?” Ammon yelled, overcoming the thunder.

  “We don’t know,” Mikael said, the wind whipping his hair around his face. “We thought it was just a storm passing by. Then a large wave hit the beach and lightning struck the trees. It’s been chaos ever since.”

  ‘We should spread out for safety from this lightning’ is what Ammon wanted to say. Yet when he opened his mouth, the words were gone.

  Ocean waves spewed darkness to the treeline. Screams pulsed across the bay. Ammon cried aloud, like a wolf to its pack, as pain ripped through his mind. Then came the voice. It came like a thought, though he knew it was a stranger. It had invaded his mind, pushing inside of him.

  Fear… We have found you, children of stone.

  With the words came a flashing white image of an eagle.

  Your time is short. Choose our side, or be lost forever.

  Ammon gritted his teeth, pressing hard against his eyes. He was sobbing.

  And then the voice was gone. Ammon quieted, though weeping and wailing still rang loud all around. He lied there next to his little brother, digging deep into his mind for an idea. Anything. No matter how he tried, he kept hitting a dead end of the same unsatisfying solution… Wait.

  Another voice appeared in his mind. This one was different. It was comforting, yet serious. With it came the soft glow of green. Trust the stone. Keep your hope.

  Fear and dismay, foolish ones! Hissed the first voice again, staining the scene yellow.

  We will not. This voice was his own. He had no idea if it would help. Yet after saying the words, the grip of the yellow voice weakened ever so slightly.

  We will not fear you. We are strong. Be gone, he thought. And then a final word came to him, like the name of a place. Be gone, demon.

  The yellow light vanished from his mind. He fell back into reality where storm was still raging, as was lightning and thunder. He looked to Mikael, who seemed to be taking his first breath after drowning.

  Minutes passed. The storm raged on, then slowed. Ammon looked under his arm to see the shoreline recede. He felt Mikael begin to stand up. At the same time, he felt a nudge on his opposite elbow. He went to pull Mikael back down to the floor, only to realize the rain and lightning had ceased.

  The dark clouds still hung over them, though they no longer roared. The wind was a quiet whisper. With it came the final words from strange voices. And so it begins. What was lost is now found.

  Silhouettes of light hung in the sky. Echoes drifted away. A great weight was lifted from them all.

  Ammon got to his knees, then sat back on his toes, his brother next to him. The eagle and the rock beast, the yellow and green glows, were gone.

  The shimmering moon slipped through a crack in the clouds, indicating that they too were leaving the island behind. Hooded bodies arose all around. Ammon’s mind still had them registered as corpses, making the movements seem unnatural. Then, one by one, the hoods fell to slumped shoulders. Reality was setting in.

  Yet the destruction on the beach was very much real. Waves had thrown all sorts of debris onto the beach, stealing the sand in exchange for dead coral. The entire bay had been reshaped, in such a way that was saddening to the heart. It was a graphic monument to what had just happened.

  Trees decimated by lightning had been reduced to splinters before scattering over beach and bodies alike. Though no one appeared to be hurt, life had been lost that night. There was a feeling to it. Peace had been stolen from them. Safety was now a wishful lie.

  In the distance, Ammon saw one more figure stand up, still hooded. It seemed to look over them all before sweeping into the trees. Maison. He stepped forward in pursuit, then halted. He had no chance of catching it. He thought of calling to L’Nala to follow the figure. Just then, he heard a howl. This one shook the ground beneath him, causing a few others to cry out once more. The Mother-Wolf was aware of the intruder in her woods.

  Dim coals were all that remained of the bonfire. Compared to the darkness that had just enshrouded them, it seemed as if the daylight were breaking, though morning was far away. Conversation arose all around. Once it had been determined that no one was seriously injured, the mood seemed to lighten some. This felt wrong to Ammon. Something very significant had just taken place. Lives were lost this night. He could feel it deep inside him like a prophetic dream.

  The storm was the worst they had ever seen. There was no comparison. It had to be those glowing creatures from the lake. He was sure of it. There was no real evidence, yet he knew it.

  “Where did they go?” Ammon asked, almost to himself.

  “Where did who go?” Bastion said, his voice raspy. He had just returned from helping Krys to her feet and bringing her over.

  “That eagle. Did you guys see the storm roll in?” Ammon asked.

  “Not at all,” said Krystal, a distant look in her eye. It was disconcerting seeing her in such a state of fear. She was never afraid. This was the first time he had seen fear touch her eyes, and this only spoke to the truth. She was intimidated by the storm. For nature held power far beyond what any of them could possess.

  She shivered, then continued. “We were all joking around by the fire, talking about last week. The Equilibria game. Next thing we knew, the sky was flooded with light. The moon had disappeared. Bastion pulled me down into the sand, and that’s where we stayed for the rest of it.”

  She took a deep breath. “It was crazy. We were worried about you, Ammon. Being so close to the storm. And those awful noises…” She trailed off.

  “I know,” Ammon said with smooth tone, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I heard them too. It was almost as awful as the creatures themselves. I could barely tell the difference between the screams and the thunder. Where did they come from?”

  He looked into his friends’ eyes for answers. All he found was confusion.

  “Ammon, what’re you talking about? What creatures?” asked Mikael, sounding sincere. It was Ammon’s turn to be confused. Bastion looked as if he were about to say something, then closed his mouth and looked away.

  They had to be teasing him. But what if they weren’t? Where did they think the storm came from? Why do they think it was so devastating?

  He hesitated, searching for the right words to describe the beasts.

  “The glows,” he mumbled. “The yellow and gr
een…”

  He stopped. He could see it on their faces. They truly had seen nothing but dark clouds and lightning. He started from the beginning, telling them about the breach in the lake. About the dark eagle with the yellow glow, which had erupted from the waters and engaged the green glow in combat, before crashing over the land. It was right then when the moon had been obscured, and the lightning had lashed out.

  “The screams were deafening. Louder than the thunder. They sounded similar, but not the same.” He grew quiet. “They were massive. The size of leviathans. I don’t’ know how you could’ve missed them…”

  Ammon wasn’t crazy. His friends knew that. So what had he seen? Was he truly the only one to have seen these creatures? Surely someone else had looked up into the sky? Thoroughly confused, he wanted to ask more questions. Yet as he opened his mouth, a sudden motion in the background caught their eyes.

  Cephasonians were gathering behind them in a low murmur. They were near where he had originally broke from the trees, speaking with rapid whispers. Ammon and his friends approached the crowd, unsure whether they wanted to know what was lying in the center.