by B L Barkey
“How many have entered your apprenticeship before?”
She was silent at first, then whispered, “None.”
Ammon sighed within. Her voice became soothing once more.
“You will meet me at the northern base of the mountain of clouds. Just as the last ray of sunlight disappears. Arrive late and you will fail, remaining here as ‘the one who could’ve been something more’. Is this understood?”
Ammon wasn’t sure. He still knew nothing about this woman. And then he remembered Master Lyon’s words to him, right after he had received news of failing the Trials.
‘You will be declined access into the training for the Sector Guard for the entirety of your life, and will instead be enrolled in a solo apprenticeship. Await at your home for your new master, who will visit you soon.’
This woman had to be the new master Lyon spoke of. This was far too strange to be coincidence. Yet he still had the option to decline her offer. That much was clear. In fact, it almost seemed expected that he would decline. ‘Prepare for your final trial.’ She had spoken as if this test of hers would be the end for him.
He heard Lyon’s words again. ‘You failed because of your pride and lack of charity.’ I view myself as above this woman’s training, despite her power. I distrust her and Master Lyon with my thoughts. If he was going to change his fate, he would have to start within himself.
“Yes,” he said finally, opening his eyes. He was lying in his bed, the comforting scents of eggs and sausage creeping up through the floorboards. Had he been dreaming again? No, he thought. No, the last bit was real. I was exhausted, but it was real. He looked down to his bedroom floor. Several wet leaves were scattered on the rug next to his shoes.
“Yes, I’ll be there.”
Chapter XXXVII
A New Path
His parents could tell something had changed. Ammon was afraid to leave them. Afraid, not for himself, but for them. Within one month, they had lost both of their children. He could tell Mother was crying in her heart, even though she wore a smile. He was dreading the goodbye, and was surprised when Mother initiated it.
“Master Lyon came to us shortly after you returned from the Trials. He said you might yet be leaving for a few years.” Her head drooped as her hands remained folded in her lap. “I’m ashamed to say it, but a part of me was glad to hear you… failed the Trials.
“Gahhh, it sounds terrible saying it aloud. Yet it’s true. I didn’t want to lose both my sons at once. And then Master Lyon told us… It was hard at first, but we’ve had the whole last month to prepare,” she sniffed. “It still hurts. But at least it’s bearable.”
She had made his favorite breakfast, and had even packed a light bag of his belongings. “Also, I gave you an empty notebook and a pen. Now, I know you hate writing, but perhaps if you keep a journal during your training, the day will come when you are happy you did. And maybe you can let me read it after,” she winked.
Ammon raised his eyes and smiled at her. Her eyes were wet, barely holding back tears. He was usually too impatient to write, but he could do it to remember his mother.
Tobias wagged his tail, panting. He could also tell Ammon was leaving, as he always could. All morning the pup had followed him around, not letting him out of his sight. He hoped Tobias would remember him when he returned. He knew that he would, but still. He would miss him.
“We love you, son,” said Father. “We are very proud of you. You have a destiny that surpasses this small island. I can feel it. Give it your all. And though we will miss you, we better not see you again until the proper time.” Ammon nodded. He hoped he would not disappoint them again. Yet as he had learned all too recently, life held no guarantees.
He hugged them both in the living room, then walked to the front door with Tobias at his heels. Ammon could hear a low whine building in his chest.
With one hand on the door knob, he turned back to look upon his home. He breathed in deep, focusing hard on the moment, committing it to memory. He took it all in. The pictures hanging from the walls, the food, his books, his bed. Leaving for the Trials never felt like this. Perhaps I knew, even then, that it wasn’t goodbye. But this? This feels different…
He then saw Mother’s book on the side table in the entryway. Right then, he decided he would miss Mother most. Her hugs and her support, the warmth of her love. He had tried to enjoy all of it when he had it, for he had always known he would have to leave. Nothing lasts forever. Yet guilt still bared fangs within him, as if he had always taken his life for granted. He was going to miss it.
He had a sudden urge to go back upstairs and unpack, instead living there forever. He could even marry Sadie, then build and move into a home nearby. What a happy, loving, comfortable life that would be.
But for reasons unbeknownst to himself, he had to leave. Though it was impossible to believe, he felt he still had things to do in the world. Things that mattered, despite his own small size. His legs moved then, carrying him through the front door and towards Cloud Mountain. Each step was harder than the last as his heart grew heavy as stone.
“Ammon!” Mother ran up to him and gave him one last hug. “We will always be with you, my son. My first born. No matter what happens to you or us while you are gone, we will always be together as a family.”
Tears soaked his shirt, a mixture of Mother’s and his own. She broke away, giving him one last smile and holding onto Tobias by his collar. Ammon knelt and hugged Tobias, who nestled his nose into his master’s neck. “I’m going to miss you buddy,” he whispered into Tobias’ folded ear. His dog whined and his mother sniffed. And then they walked away.
II
The Sun was beginning its descent from the sky. Ammon was almost at the north side of Cloud Mountain. It was another hour before he reached the foot of the mountain, his mind numb from his mourning. There was a small clearing with a stone bench in this area, created by those from many generations before.
The directions he had been given were rather vague. As good a benchmark as any, he thought, laughing at his own stupid pun. He sat on the bench and waited.
It was there he thought about life, with all its twists and turns, peaks and valleys. He had planned his entire life around becoming one thing. In becoming a Guardian to Cephas Island. Into this dream he poured years and years of preparation.
Countless hours of studying and training. And yet, here he was, sitting on a cold bench with no hope of ever becoming a Guardian. Instead he held onto his consolation prize, which was the clouded path of some random apprenticeship. Every new second was a mystery.
Prior to failing the Trials, time had been an old friend, guiding him towards his dream. Yet now, just like his dream and his brother Mikael, time had estranged him, leaving him alone.
Before his failure, he would've found this aimless wandering a terrifying concept, even in thought. Yet now, humbled and trapped in the moment, he found a new peace. He surrendered himself to every moment as it was, as it came, hardly looking ahead. It was a different experience, though far from a lesser one. The peace that accompanied his new style of living seemed even greater than before. Perhaps I have grown after all.
Animals scurried about, flying above and creeping around him. At one point he saw a pair of monkeys swinging through the trees, catching his eye with purposeful flair. They obviously had somewhere to be. The Sun had arced over the peak of Cloud Mountain, and was now minutes away from being blocked by the mountain faces. Ammon began to worry. Was he in the right spot? She had said if he was late, he would fail the training immediately. That was not an option. I cannot fail again. But where was she?
He stood and stretched his legs before walking around the small clearing. He searched for her along the lightly-beaten path in both directions. Sunlight trickled away as if the sky were drinking the light from a glass cup. Perhaps if I climb a tree I will see her. He chose a tall, thick-trunked tree and ascended to the top. His callused hands welcomed the coarse bark.
As he stretc
hed himself above the canopy, he felt as if the tree were also tip-toeing on its roots, lifting him up. Thank you, tree, he thought to himself. He was losing his mind, little by little, just like Cephas was losing sunlight. Just like his soul was losing hope.
And then he saw it. Amidst the many branches and leaves, with random outcrops of cliffs and rock quarries, was a thin wisp of smoke. It was at the northern foot of Cloud Mountain, fitting the only criteria given to him by the woman.
However, there was no clear path leading that deep into the trees. He would have to forge his own trail. And, if the smoke was not from her after all, his window of time would be shut as he would be trapped in the thickets. He had a decision to make.
Ammon descended back to the jungle floor then backed away into the clearing. He picked two spots far up the mountain, aligning them with whence the smoke was originating. Though it took a few precious seconds to do so, this would keep him from losing himself in the trees. He grabbed his pack then and dove into the brush. He had to hurry.
III
The trees surrounding Ammon were shockingly dense and humid, slowing his progression even further. He was able to duck under most branches and bushes, though some he had to maneuver around. Every few minutes, he looked up through a clearing towards the mountain to reaffirm his path to the smoke. The last colors of daylight hung in the air, dancing their last dance, as if to give him just a bit more time. Faster he moved, scraping himself on sticks and rocks all over. Faster.
He could now see the smoke above the trees a hundred feet away. He pressed further, heaving. With one last push, he broke into a small clearing, spotting the source of the smoke. It was now reduced to embers, breathing its final wisps. Pebbles surrounded the remains in a tight circle.
The Sun was down. The coals were fading. All that was just yellow and orange had become dark purple. Was he too late?
“Pushing our luck, aren’t we?” came the mysterious voice. It sounded much cooler than the night before.
Ammon fell to his knees. He had made it. Relief swept over him just as a cold front blew in. The minor victory was worth emeralds to him.
“Master, I am here to begin my training,” he said, panting.
“Do not disgrace me with your titles and assumptions, for I have yet to call you my apprentice. First, you must prove yourself worthy.”
“Yes…ma’am,” Ammon breathed, his head still bowed to the floor. He saw her sandaled feet leave the trees and enter the clearing.
She stopped and stood there for a long time, evaluating him. Yet it seemed more an act than anything, which caused him to wonder. Has she been watching me this whole time? She then took one step back, squaring off her feet.
“Are you ready to prove yourself worthy to enter into my apprenticeship?”
“Yes, ma’am. But first...” He trailed off as she glared at him. Yet he needed to ask the question.
“Are you the one who has been pushing me away from those dreams of darkness?”
Her look seemed to soften some, though she still held his gaze.
“Are you the snow leopard?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “I am.”
He nodded, both shocked and consoled. As he asked her the questions, he knew the answers. Yet the implications were still massive. Who is this woman?
“You are wondering what’s the point of all this.”
Ammon held his breath. The air between them shifted. The mist of strangers faded. The feeling it left was eerie. Unique. It left him curious.
“You are wondering where all of this will lead. You had your own desires and plan for your future. And it hasn’t turned out how you planned it. Now, you feel like everything else is a waste of time. Your life is a waste of time. Life is pointless”
How does she know this? How does she know me?
Her voice became deep and immoveable.
“You have two options. Option one, you can challenge me in hand-to-hand combat.”
Ammon was unsure of her fighting prowess, though she was obviously unaware of his own. She can’t be too skilled if she has underestimated me so. What if I actually defeat her? Will my training be complete? He tried to hide his excitement, as well as his thrill of challenge.
“Option two, you can run up Cloud Mountain and back. I will then fight you with one hand and one arm, the other tied and therefore disabled. Should you defeat me in either of these scenarios, you may become my apprentice, and your training will be reduced from five years to one.”
His adrenaline was pumping furiously. If he could return before Mikael and begin training on his own, perhaps he would find a way into the Sector Guard after all. Then he could stay near his family. And Sadie…
“What if I fail both options?” The question was a legitimate one. It was also strategy. She would think him unconfident, lowering her guard while answering.
“Then you will return home to grovel in your failures.”
Ammon gave her a stern look. She reciprocated with a threatening glare of her own. He wasn’t sure how strong she was, though she was quite petite in stature and muscle mass. She removed her cloak, revealing that she indeed was rather trim, though her feminine curves were robust and tight.
He thought of his advantage in the two options. Little did she know, Ammon was akin to the hike up Cloud Mountain. His muscles had nearly memorized the entire trail. She most likely expected him to be exhausted after the effort, thus crippling herself for the follow-up fight. He would then return with almost full strength, her misconceptions in full-swing. Victory would be his.
“I will go with the second option. To the lake, or the peak?”
“Touch a toe in the water of Mirror Lake, then run back down. I will be waiting here.”
She folded her arms and looked at him with expectation worn heavy in her eyes. Ammon turned, then grinned. She was in for a surprise.
He made it up to the water, breathing gently as he ascended at a moderate pace. There was no official time limit given, yet he wanted to fight her before he himself got tired and weak from hunger. He had pulled out one fruit bar from his bag, which he ate at the lake before jogging down. The rising moon lit up his path well, coupled with fireflies gyrating themselves in the air. He soon approached the clearing he had left, finding the woman sitting cross-legged in the clearing.
Ammon was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He let himself breathe heavier than necessary, hoping to lower her guard further. He would do everything he could to end this tonight.
“Take a drink of water, and we will begin.”
Ammon grabbed his bottle, took a few sips of water, then dumped some over his head. The feeling was refreshing, surging life throughout his entire body. The woman stood up quickly then, glaring at him with unflinching stillness. “Prepare yourself.”
He dropped his bottle with the lid fastened, assuming a position of defense. He side-stepped to his right without removing his eyes from her. She stood straight up, hands at her sides. She was obviously confident in her own abilities. What a façade, he thought, hoping it to be true.
“Ready?” she muttered, sounding almost bored. “Begin.”
Ammon rushed her. As the distance between them closed, he jumped to his left, then lunged forward, trapping her foot beneath his own. He felt her toes, then brought his right fist from below up towards the sky, aiming to catch her jaw.
But he missed. His hand continued upwards, as he lost sight of her. Suddenly, he felt a blow to his left knee and to his neck. Before he knew what was happening, he was on the ground with a mouthful of dirt. He sat there in confusion.
He felt a hard object in his mouth, moving it around with his tongue. He realized it was a tooth knocked loose from her blow. He spat it out, hoping it wasn’t one of the front ones. What had just happened? He had no idea. He couldn’t feel either arm, and could not move or make a sound other than grunting. Panic rose up inside him, stealing his breath. Shortly after, he managed to breathe in deep. He rolled to his back.
“Would you like to try again?” her voice rang out, making a game of it all.
“Try…what…again,” he heaved.
Feeling was trickling back into his body, but he quickly realized he preferred not feeling his arms at all. They were saturated with pain. He looked over his body, but could not see any protruding bones. She must have hit his nerves.
“You may ascend the mountain once more. Upon returning, I will instead ask you a question. If you answer correctly, you may enter my apprenticeship. If you do not, you may fight me once more. If you fail at both of these things, you may run up the mountain once more, and start again.”
Ammon sat up, then slowly rose to his feet. The pain was settling. He was returning to normal, except for his sore jaw.