by B L Barkey
Stardust walked towards the dark one with the calm of a great oak tree. She then spoke with a somber tone. It was the tone of one heart reaching out to another. But the heart of the other was full of dead leaves. Vanities. Selfishness. A hardened, hollow shell.
“There are strengths on this planet that rival that of the celestial realm. Some were used in the creation of this planet. Others lie within the hearts of the creations themselves.
“Look at you. Even now you seek to emulate the powers of creation. You seek to bring matter upon yourself, though you do it in mockery and disgust.”
The darkness twitched. Stardust held steady. The waterfalls lessened as the tortured rivers were given reprieve. She continued forward, then stopped in front of the dark one.
“Not nearly enough souls have yet entered this mortal realm. Your power is weak. Your attempts are reckless. And your failure is sure.”
Silence came. Then, laughter. Soft at first. Then louder. More distinct. The face of the dark one changed, taking the form of a spirit woman dear to Stardust’s heart. She had been a friend of both of theirs in the life before. A look of suffering was in her eyes, and her mouth stretched open, ripping into threads at its corners.
The dark one coughed words through the voice of a sweet, endearing woman. “They will come. In their blind obedience, they will come. And in countless, horrific, excruciating, bloody ways, we will take them. Their bodies and spirits and minds. We will ravage them. We will desecrate the bodies they want so badly. We will enter them and rob them. We will kill their souls. And Morning will revere my name for it. He will set me on my own mountain top. That is how I will obtain your coveted glory.”
“I believe you. And some will follow you willingly. But others will fight. They will fight for the light. The light of Truth. And you will be forgotten. Morning cares for none.”
The dark one screamed.
“We will conquer their hearts and lead them into our kingdom. They will learn to love it there! The darkness, along with the freedom it provides. To choose it over the shackles of light. And you will never see them again in your precious celestial thrones. And their pain… suffering… It will be…”
The dark one bled from its face.
“…delicious.”
Stardust exploded in showering light, conquering every crevice of the abyss. The demon form of the dark one reduced to dark matter, then absolute nothing. All was revealed within a hundred-mile stretch. Darkness of all kinds was cast back to the Outside.
The light moved as a great ocean wave, cresting over the lip of the abyss and pouring out over the land. It saturated into the surrounding creations, feeding life back into the bodies of the plants and animals that had suffered from this event. The dark cloud collapsed in on itself and vanished. Color and relief filled the air, covering the land. All was well again.
Stardust hung her head as she ascended towards the sky. She paused above the surface, then looked far over the land. Joy overflowed in her heart. Particles of stardust within her swirled around with excitement. Her glass form faded as she rose into the sky.
The Sun peeked over the horizon to the east as sounds of life filled the air. So many unique sounds, she thought. So many creatures visiting this world before their eternity. It’s even better than I imagined. She had smiled for days after she first heard the plan. They all had. But after, some had been turned against it, like her brother Lucille. She shook away her sadness. What a magnificent world she is to become. Proelum.
A new voice rang within the cloud of stardust. The frequency of it resonated within her core. “Return home and report, young one,” the voice said. It was the voice of the Third. No matter where Stardust traveled in the universe, the voice of the Third was clear.
With that, her particles ascended, collecting in a thin line that sprang towards the source. There they collided with the rest of Stardust, greeting her with warmth that was palpable even within the incessant cold of space. Stardust glanced around, taking it all in.
It is all so beautiful in its own way. Even with its weaknesses. Perhaps, because of its weaknesses. The stardust glowed, then lurched to match the speed of light, hopping black holes to the center of the universe. To go back home.
Yet seeds of darkness remained on the planet, creeping their possessed roots through the ground to conquer others, whilst seeping life from above and dragging it into the cold, damp darkness. It would return. It would always return.
Ammon had his audience right where he wanted them. They had walked through shadow together, and emerged with hope. He gradually increased the tempo and volume of his strumming, rising slowly as he walked up the bank of the cave to his left. As he drifted, the acoustics shifted into a happier tune.
The final part of the song was wordless. If played with the proper timing and passion, accented with the proper silences, the song would invoke a story of romance. As notes came and went, the song wrapped the entire story into that of a man and a woman, after giving their true purpose together. To create life, in countless forms, in spite of the war between light and darkness.
He found the effect he desired. Even so, his breath caught in his throat. While strumming with one part of his mind and forming chords with another, he separated his mind into a third part without thinking, then used it to search his emotions for the missing piece of the song.
Panic arose within him, causing his mind to shrink and walk on the brim of shattered pieces. If he didn’t find the proper emotion soon, the ending would be left with subtle sadness. Though the song may have accomplished its purpose thus far, it would be forgotten as an interlude to an unfulfilled promise. It would all be for nothing.
IV
He closed his eyes, resting his mind. His hands no longer needed his eyes to play. He searched within himself, feeling like a wanderer in a dry desert. The emotion he sought would be water to his soul. It was equilibrium. Peace. Balance.
He thought of his family and friends. What I would do to protect them all, he thought. He strummed faster, feeling the pulse of the crowd follow along. Suddenly, he was called to. Not by a voice, but by a presence. His eyes slowly opened, then settled upon the face of one girl near the front of the crowd.
It was Sadie. He felt a warm smile spread across his lips, expressing the genuine light now building up within his heart. He wanted to watch her, yet knew he must look away, for now. He had a story to finish.
He felt energized then. The end approached, then echoed all around him. He had found it. The balance. His mind split into a third piece again, spreading into three different places as if three great friends were singing in tune together.
The third part of his mind held strong, though he had never done this before. It rose high in his mind, before swooping down into the final note, leaving the story open for creation. It was his song of forever. The song of happy endings. For it was the song with no ending.
V
There was silence, pure and full. Not an absence of sound, but instead of forgotten worry and doubt in the hearts of men. The last chord from Ammon’s guitar echoed with his last spoken words. Words he had never thought to speak, yet still had parted from his lips as natural as running water. Both seemed to complement the silence.
“We are one.”
The three words separated and then reformed in their parts to create a new whole, speaking a strange word to them all. One they all remembered, though they couldn’t reform it on their lips.
There was a shift in the air. Ammon felt a warm breath on the nape of his neck, which grew into a strong gale before stretching out to blanket the crowd. There came a voice. It started low, as if rising from a note too low to be heard by their mortal ears. It grew higher, louder.
It was the wind. Calling, singing, trusting. Anointing.
It was the most beautiful voice Ammon had ever heard.
Another feeling came over him then. A fleeting dizziness, too short to remember in detail. But the feeling had been there. The feeling that nothing wou
ld ever be the same again.
And finally, he heard another voice. It was from a different place, so faint and quick, he knew he had imagined it. Yet the feeling was clear. It felt like shining approval. As if it were saying,
“He did it. He is beginning to understand.”
Chapter X
Lake of Light
The crowd erupted with applause. It seemed as if every single person was standing and looking directly at Ammon, beaming with radiant joy. He saw lips moving, though he couldn’t discern their words. He thought he could still hear the echo of the wind behind him. He didn’t want to forget the word he had just heard. Yet after another few breaths, the memory drifted just out of reach. Despite the riches lying before him, he couldn’t help but feel empty inside.
The feeling of sorrow was short. As Ammon approached the exit, his favorite people stormed the stage. He mouthed the words ‘I’ll meet you there’ while pointing backstage. They nodded and disappeared. He gave one last beam and bow to the audience, then left out the back.
Right as he turned the corner, the resonating sound of cheers ceased entirely. The contrast was so startling he actually stumbled. He then noticed a vibration in his hand. He realized it’d been there for awhile, though it’d been intangible amidst the cheering.
It was in his left hand, which still held the guitar neck. He went to set down the instrument, then stopped as the frequency changed. It was coming from the guitar. But I muted the strings a while ago. Is it the sound of the crowd? No, can’t be. It’s soundproof back here. Then what?
He looked over the guitar, tracing its oak body, its strings made from the fragile veins of tree leaves, carefully parted and intertwined with others alike to create different thicknesses. The entire instrument came together from things once living. The vibrations within rang on. He might have looked upon the instrument all night if his friends didn’t appear just then. He looked to them, then back to the guitar. It seemed to beckon him to his friends, with a promise that he could revisit the mystery another time.
“Ammon! Where did you even practice that?” Mikael started, clearly shocked.
Ammon usually practiced his music at home, either in his room or in the pillowed loft on the roof, which they often used for stargazing and reading. He knew Mikael always listened to him practice, so he had played other songs while home, then sought solitude in the dampening conifers.
“But I’ve been practicing all week,” Ammon said with wide eyes.
“Yeah, right. Not that song. What is it called?”
“The song with a happy ending,” Krystal cut in with a whisper and new light in her eyes.
“The song of all happy endings, sweet child,” Ammon responded with a bow. They both laughed.
“Yeah wow, best by far,” Bastion said, almost too quickly.
Ammon expected a fifth voice to chime in, then remembered that their fifth voice, Jonah, was waiting for them at the Leviticum.
“Where did you come up with the material?” asked Mikael.
“You know all those books I’ve been bringing home from the Leviticum lately? Well, each of those held a smidgeon of the story. After reading two or three of them, I began to see a common thread between them all. I sought more of this thread in other books, pieced it together, filled in the gaps, then added a bit of romance to the end.”
Mikael tilted his head, then asked, “Yeah, but wasn’t that the theme of the whole song from the beginning? A romanticized creation of Proelum, with a conclusion of two hearts becoming one again. Almost like… balance… being restored…”
He trailed off into silence as he remembered where he was, and with whom he was surrounded. They all wore poorly-concealed grins on their faces.
“You may be thinkin’ ‘bout this too much there, cutie,” Krystal said, grabbing Mikael’s arm.
Mikael chuckled, then looked at Ammon. “Hey, it’s his story. He’s the one who created it.”
“It’s ours,” Ammon corrected.
Bastion cut in gently, as remembrance often does. “And the wind called to you.” His voice was low and reverent.
They all grew quiet at once. For the first time ever, Krystal seemed to have visible tears in her eyes. Ammon wondered at himself. How had he forgotten about it so quickly...?
But no, that wasn’t it. Once heard, it would be impossible for someone to forget the very moment the wind, an element of the world, called to them. Even now, he felt the voice rising within him again, lifting his heart to ecstasy. Perhaps it was just too precious of a moment to speak of, even if thousands had seen it happen.
Still quiet, Bastion said, “Legend says that when the wind is called, everyone nearby hears it too, though its meaning is unique to each person. Elements speak not the language of men, but rather that of planets and truth. They speak to the hearts of things.”
They all nodded. And what I heard, I am not ready to share, Ammon thought. Not yet.
“Hmmm. The words were weird,” said Krystal, her finger on her cheek in thought. “Afterwards though, I had another voice inside, as if a translation. It said ‘Trust your true friends’…”
Bastion looked aghast. “You aren’t supposed to tell anyone!”
Krystal looked as ashamed as she ever could, which wasn’t much. “Oh stahp. Hell, the message is to trust you guys. So that’s what I’m doing,” she said, sticking out her tongue.
Bastion rolled his eyes. “You know what else they say? If the wind calls directly to you, it gives you a piece of its heart forever. And in turn, it becomes a part of you, and you a part of it.”
Krystal laughed aloud, throwing her head back. “Wow! And I thought I was the girl of this group. Listen to you boys.”
Bastion grabbed her in a headlock, fastening it tighter than usual.
“And you know what else they say, huh?” came her muffled voice. “Get them heads outta them clouds!”
Ammon was no longer listening. A piece of its heart. Forever…
A quick motion behind him caught his eye.
“And at the end, with the boy and the girl?” came a tall, beautiful blonde with jade eyes. It was Viola. She stepped up from behind Ammon, giving him a huge hug around his waist. Ammon held her wrists gently, then turned towards her, before giving her an exaggerated bow, and a kiss on the top of her right hand. Such was common gesture between fellow performers.
“Your story was lovely, Ammon. The melodious intro. The quick turn to dark beginnings. The battle, the restoration of hope. And then, deliverance! Man and woman, bound for each other, two halves of a greater whole, coming together to create new life…”
Krystal rolled her eyes. Bastion looked swooned. Mikael tilted his head once more, his curiosity piqued. Krystal swatted them both.
“Ahhh yes, it was quite fun to perform. But what about you? We walked upright as you were beginning your ballad. It was marvelous! The way you three complement each other with almost every note, all with the tender passion of playing your instruments… Your skills are forever beyond me.”
Viola blushed and half-curtsied. “Hmmm. Maybe. We surely did enjoy ourselves,” she said with a side glance. Then she looked him full in the eyes. “But Ammon. The wind called to you. I dare say it was the most beautiful calling of our time. And the words it spoke to me… I would venture to say I almost understood its meaning. I have never felt such peace before. Never ever. And it was all thanks to you.”
She leaned forward and kissed Ammon on his cheek. This was not exactly tradition between musicians, though he now wished it could be. He could still feel the wonderful coolness from her wet lips on his face. It grew chill like mint as the wind brushed over it. Her scent lingered, sweeter than rain on flower petals. The entire performance… It had started and ended with the wind.
“Seeya ‘round,” Viola said to them all, though her eyes lingered on Ammon, as if beckoning him to follow. Should I do something? he wondered. As she walked away, he caught himself staring at her. Then, a sudden blindness filled his mind as he fe
lt a blow to the back of his head. He knew a punch from Krystal when he felt it.
“Ahhh!” he yelped, rubbing his head, laughing a bit, and crying a bit more on the inside.
“Boys,” she grumbled before marching towards the Lake. “Let’s hurry and make our rounds before I decide to ditch you all.”
Ammon raised his eyebrows at Bastion and Mikael, who both shrugged and laughed. They fell in line behind her like chastised puppies, though Ammon wasn’t really sorry. After a few moments she fell back with them, all seeming to have been forgotten. But Ammon knew better. Girls never forget, he thought with a shudder.
“Ammon!” came another sweet voice.
“Oh for crying out loud,” Krystal moaned, throwing her hands in the air. Ammon recognized the voice. It was Sadie.
“I’ll catch up,” Ammon called to them, waiving an apology.
“Yeah yeah,” all three said out of sync, feeling abandoned. Then Mikael turned back and yelled through cupped hands, “Meet us at Firefly Cove.” Cheers rose all around from hundreds of faceless voices. “I wasn’t talking to you!” cried Mikael. Several laughed at this, but it was too late. Many had already begun following Mikael to the Lake of Light. “Sunuva,” Ammon heard Bastion mutter before being swept up in the crowd.
Ammon laughed, then turned to one of his favorite faces on the island. All thoughts of other girls vanished like a shadow. It always amazed him how much brighter his thoughts became after looking upon her. He had tried to explain it to his friends before, yet they had only mocked him. It was something that could hardly be done justice with words. It was almost a secret, never meant to be spoken to others, or even each other, lest it sound ridiculous.
Her hair was golden silk bouncing upon her shoulders. Her eyes were sparkling emeralds, of which you would believe took thousands of years to form before they were chiseled and shaped to her delicate features. Her expressions were filled with youthful wonder, her hope as bright as her smile. And when she smiled at him… Well, something unique happened. Ammon was usually one to be aware of his surroundings. This meant observing the looks, sounds, and even emotions of others nearby. But when he looked upon Sadie, all of that disappeared.
