by B L Barkey
He breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “What’s wrong, girl?” He asked her, stroking her head and neck. “Don’t you know me by now?” But he knew the answer. The murder of her brother by human hands was known. The trust had been broken. It is returning, the voice said in his head. The old ways are returning. Cephas help us all.
L’Nala followed him to the edge of the woods, then halted as if striking an invisible barrier. He turned back and patted her goodbye before turning to High Forest. He soon arrived at home, cleaned himself up, then sat down for supper. Tonight was salad with seeds and fruit, eaten in the living room. As the silence around them grew, Ammon was torn on whether to share his experiences with them or not. Yet where would he start? It all felt sacred, as if it should never be recounted aloud. Still, he needed answers.
“Father. Have you ever studied the connection between humans and wild animals?”
Father continued to eat his salad, unfazed by his son’s question. After a few seconds, he took a drink of his water and sat his salad down.
“I guess my first question for you would be, what kind of connection do you mean?”
Ammon thought for a moment. “You know, I’m not even sure how to put it into words myself. It’s just that… well, there’ve been times in my life where I felt like I knew certain animals, even before actually knowing them. Animals at the ARC, some at Bastion’s, and even those in the wild.”
Father nodded for him to continue, stroking his beard. Ammon swallowed, looking at the floor and weighing his words.
“The connection is strongest with wild beasts, yet it's also more rare. That’s all I know from my own experiences.”
Ammon sat back and glanced at his parents’ faces. Mother looked to Father, curious. Father spoke next.
“My second question then, do you have a specific situation in mind?”
Ammon could not betray his secret with Kokuabeam. He shook his head.
Father continued. “Throughout my own journeys of youth, I was able to witness a very peculiar transformation in the world around us. I saw something known to very few, and spoken of by even fewer. However, you're my family and I trust you dearly. So, I'll share this with you.
“In my youth, I was recruited for an apprenticeship aboard a sea voyage.”
Ammon’s jaw dropped as he looked to Mother’s face. She showed little but a casual smile. She had already known, of course.
“You’ve left the island before? You, as a Gardener?” Ammon asked, incredulous. Father only grinned.
“We saw many incredible things out there, from the fruits of our daily labors, the cunningness of man when limited options were available for entertainment, and the brotherhood that came from suffering tempests and storms together.
“But that was not the most amazing thing we saw. Multiple times throughout the trip, nature would manifest itself to us as if communicating with its own language. Every few days, a similar message of peace and love was sent to us. Only, the messengers for each encounter were unique. Some were dolphins flipping about the boat with limitless energy. Others were scores of glowfish glowing for miles in every direction. One thing we always noticed was that none of the creatures bothered one another.
“This pattern was similar with the land animals we saw. None ate of another, nor showed any aggression. Of course, this was common even on Cephas.
“It was not like it is now, Ammon. Animals sympathized with one another. None would eat of the flesh, but would instead satiate their hunger pangs with fruits and greens. This is how I knew things my entire life, as did your mother. And then, suddenly, as a boy of twelve years old, I had my first experience with killing. A bear cub was being snatched up by a mountain lion, its neck snapped and carcass dragged away, all right before my eyes.”
Ammon and Mother cringed.
“Such violence is rare these days,” he chuckled. “But at some point, the mountain lion acquired a certain taste, and so it fed that desire.
“After this, I began to see it more and more. Soon enough, we had meats available for our own feasts. This was uncommon, for the natural diet was strictly vegetable and fruits.
“I tell you this for two reasons. One, because the world we live in now has rapidly changed from the world I knew as a child fifty years ago. Two, that connection I felt with wild animals, that very connection you just spoke of. It weakened after that day. It weakened as the world went on. It weakened as one by one animals grew a passionate fire of desire for other flesh. It weakened after I myself made a kill and ate its body.
“That’s not to say I don’t still feel a connection to wild life,” said Father while taking a deep breath and leaning back far into his armchair. “I believe that we are deeply connected with animals far beyond the physical. The compassion that some animals receive and react to is astounding.
"I don't know to what extent we are connected to animals. And yet, I find myself believing, and even hoping, that we are connected to animals too strongly to say eternal goodbyes after this life. No… they will have a similar fate to our own after death, I think. Animals do not know evil. They do not commit treason against light and truth in the name of desire, like humans do. Maybe in this way, animals also connect us to the purest forces in Proelum. It’s impossible to say for sure.”
Mother spoke up. “Tell him about Kianu.”
Ammon looked from Mother to Father, catching hints of exclusive knowledge bouncing between them. Father chuckled.
“Ah, Kianu. We would often call him Kai, like our family name. He was my wolf growing up as a kid.”
“A wolf?” Ammon shrieked. “Sheesh, you think you know a guy…”
“Yup. We received it from a trader during that very same voyage I just spoke of. It was in terrible shape, maybe three months old. I wanted to throw the man overboard right then and there, for letting the pups condition slacken so much. I raised the pup as my own, taking him everywhere. He would come into the Leviticum with me and keep cowards at bay. The solitude was…nice.”
Mother laughed. “He kept everyone away from you! They were all terrified.”
“Not all. You dated me, didn’t you? Exactly my point. Kai let only the good ones come near me.” Father winked at her, and she blew him a kiss. Ammon wanted that kind of love more than anything.
“Anyways,” Father continued, “Kai was incredible. He would sometimes disappear at night, only to return in the morning with unbelievably large fish. His fur was always so soft, colored unlike any wolf you would see in your gliscs."
“Don’t forget his eyes, babe,” Mother chimed, before taking over. “Kai had the most human of eyes I've ever seen in an animal, except for maybe our very own Tobias. Kai was wild, no doubt about it. And yet he respected and loved your Father. You could just tell.”
Like I saw worlds in the eyes of Kokua, he thought, smiling. Just as I did in the purple eyes of the First, in the Temple.
He was afraid to ask his next question. “What happened to him?”
He expected Father to frown, but he didn’t.
“He lived a fun and fulfilling life, and then left. But like I said, I know I will see him again. And I see him in the silhouettes of his offspring in the woods.” Father sounded perfectly balanced, peaceful. It was incredible.
“I don’t even think your Father loves me as much as he loved Kianu,” said Mother, giving Father a daring look.
Father laughed. “And with that, it’s time for me to hit the sack.” He stood and stretched, then walked over to Mother and picked her up over his shoulder. She screamed and fake punched him as they walked up the stairs.
Ammon loved his family so much. Even his brother, whom he wouldn't see for a long time. Yet at least he had learned about Kai, a detail about Father's life which Mikael would've loved to learn, too.
This thought cheered him up, for knowing something that Mikael didn’t felt like sweet justice. He kicked back and gazed upon the fire. As he did so, he made himself a promise. Tomorrow, I will finally go and see my fr
iends.
Chapter XXXVI
Choices
The next morning, as Ammon approached the Leviticum from the west, the marble and onyx of the structure reminded him of Kokuabeam. Curious, he thought. It should be the other way around. The Leviticum had been a part of his life for much longer than the orca. And yet this did not seem to matter. Curious.
He felt joy arise within him as he drew closer to the building. This surprised him. He was an entirely different person since the last time he had walked in its halls. Last time, he had purpose and direction, hope and excitement. Now, he had none of these things.
How do you explain this to those you've known your whole life? To those who had believed in you completely? He sighed. You don’t. You don’t explain a thing. You look away in silence. And that’s exactly what he did.
He stepped onto the cobbled walkways and pulled open the doors. He made his way to the elevator then pressed the button for the seventh floor. On his way he recognized many faces, though he looked away quick enough to avoid conversation. Up the elevator went, the glass and dining hall to his back. The elevator then slowed as it approached the fifth floor, preparing to pick up another passenger. This was exactly what Ammon was hoping to avoid. And as the doors opened, there stood Sadie.
Seriously? Ammon thought to himself. Not only did the elevator stop, but it had to be her.
“Ammon! Wow I was not expecting to see you!”
She bounced forward, hugging him tight as the elevator doors closed. He held his arms at his side as she kissed his cheek. Her presence felt different. Like she had been almost waiting for this moment for some time now. But no. It is I who is different. She took a step back, her smile quickly fading while her eyes remained bright as ever. Just like they always were when looking at him. As if seeing worlds…
“Ammon,” she started. Her tone was soft. Understanding. He wanted her to stop. “You know they can’t accept everyone as a Guardian. I’ve heard some of the best apprentices don’t get into their guard. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Ammon felt a rush of comfort from her words, of which he quickly dismissed, allowing him to return to his murky doubts.
“Yeah well, that wasn’t supposed to happen to me.”
“Ammon,” she whispered, stepping to the side. “There are some things we just can’t control.”
Silence fell, almost with a sound all its own.
“I hear Chalice made it in. Can’t be so great if he can do it,” she muttered.
Ammon said nothing. He hadn’t known about Chalice, though it made sense. He hadn’t heard the boy rubbing it in, after all.
“Shoot. I shouldn’t have said that,” she stammered. “Ammon, I’m…”
She made a fist, then sighed, her shoulders slumping. For the first time ever, he was sure she felt something for him. And for the first time ever, he didn’t care.
The elevator pinged the seventh floor. The doors opened and Ammon stepped out.
“Are you going to see Jonah?” she asked.
He stopped, his back held towards her.
“Yeah.”
“Great, I’ll come with!”
“I’d rather go alone.”
“Oh. Umm…Ok, I understand.”
Her voice was shaky, as if she, in fact, didn’t understand at all.
“I’m sure you two have much catching up to do,” she said, as if coming up with an excuse for him.
Thick silence was there again. And then peace descended upon him, relieving his burdens. It settled in like a warm blanket on a cold night. Her presence was soothing. Ammon regretted being so cold to her. It wasn’t her fault that he had failed. He turned, stopping the door of the elevator with his foot. She fell forward then and hugged him.
As he held her, she whispered in his ear. “Although there are some things we can’t control, there are still some things we can.”
She squeezed his hand in hers, then kissed him on the cheek. He loved her. He knew it, sometimes. Though he still couldn’t say it, even now. He couldn’t think of anything to say at all. She smiled gently, then stepped back into the elevator, disappearing behind the thick, closing doors.
II
Ammon walked into the hospital wing and asked to see Jonah. The Levitian medic guided him through several rooms into a well-lit bedroom. As she did, she muttered to herself about a lack of supplies, not seeming to care if Ammon was listening or not. The Sun was at high-noon, shining bright and warm through the windows. Ammon then spotted his friend’s dark silhouette. It spoke.
“Ammon. Brother. Oh man, it is good to see you.”
It was not Jonah’s voice. At least, not the Jonah he remembered. Jonah was always energetic, bouncing of the walls with no signs of slowing. This person in front of him sounded as if they were dying.
“Jonah. Brother, I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner…”
“Hey man, don’t even worry about it. I understand. You and Mikael had a lot to prepare for.”
His voice was raspy and forced. He didn’t want to be talking. Ammon could tell and couldn’t blame him. He remembered a few times in his life where sorrow was so thick, he didn’t want to be around another human soul for as long as he lived. In fact, he was there himself, even now. It was a lonely place. A dark place. He and Jonah were in this same dark place, yet still felt alone. That was the nature of loneliness. In this, though, they were able to understand each other. Jonah didn’t have to speak. Ammon already knew the feeling. Jonah could see that now. Tears began to swell in his eyes.
Ammon observed the physical condition of his friend. It was not pretty. A small lamp to Jonah’s left illuminated his bandages and wounds, casting shadows over his face as well as over the dunes of his blankets. Two books were stacked near the lamp, the top one lying open with notes drawn in.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ammon laughed, sitting on the bed and grabbing the top book. “Dying in the medical wing and you are still studying. Don’t you ever rest?”
Jonah grinned and pointed near the door. Ammon looked to see a small gaming station on a desk.
“Ah, of course. Gotta have your glisc games.” Ammon shook his head, laughing harder now. It felt so good to laugh again. And it seems Jonah is still himself, even after all this.
“Hey Ammon.” Jonah grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry about the Trials. I heard rumors a couple weeks back that you were turned down. I know how bad you wanted it…”
Empathy from his friend struck a fire in his heart. He smiled sincerely for the first time in weeks. What a tender heart this boy has. Jonah was in so much pain. He had just gone through unimaginable loss, his parents instantly wiped out, his leg crushed. Yet here he was apologizing to his sullen friend. As he stands in the darkness, he seeks to lift others first.
“Hey now, don’t worry about me,” Ammon managed. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, losing everything…”
Jonah looked down at his leg.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, thought Ammon.
“You know, one sure can do a lot of reading in this place,” said Jonah, pointing to a miniature library he was building on the opposite wall. Ammon hadn’t noticed these yet, and as he gawked he counted at least seventy books.
“How’s Lumena?” Ammon asked. He hoped it would be a smoother transition into the more difficult conversation.
“She's well. She has a small scar on her arm from when the house exploded. Apparently, she had been just outside when it happened, picking flowers. It’s a miracle, really. The Levitians have her in a room down the hall. Hopefully they will find her someplace to have a real childhood again.”
“That’s good,” Ammon said, meaning it. “Yet shouldn’t she be with you, her family?”
Jonah looked down again, frowning. He then sighed, and spoke with somber tones.
“Let’s get this over with. I’ll never be able to walk again. I’ll be able to get around, though never very fast. My parents are dead. I will be living amongst the
Levitians now, taking up permanent residence in the Leviticum. Master Lyon spoke to me about timing and happenstance, promising me apprenticeship with him personally. He says it’s more than an act of sympathy for my condition. He says he had planned on inviting me here, even before the accident. I’m not so sure about that, but hey, whatever he says.
“He visited again a few days back. Promised that I would heal quickly, and that I should be prepared to receive new strength. And Ammon, I have. He was right.
“I feel like I can read faster now, understand more, retain more. It’s as if my energies have been redirected, refocused. I’m reading books three times as fast as before and comprehending it even better. You see all those books? I’ve read them all. It’s truly miraculous. I shared this with Master Lyon. He thinks it will continue until the day I die. Maybe even accelerate some more! Can you imagine? My dream of reading every book in the Leviticum, finally a reality…”