Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2)

by Sundin, Jesikah

  Leaf’s eyes narrowed. “No, My Lord. We do not.”

  “Sounds like you are not legally bound to the original Code. It states only those who sign and minors in their care, right?”

  “Indeed.” Leaf rubbed his chin and stared past Fillion for a few seconds. “And how shall we commission a new document to become drafted and approved?”

  “We probably don’t need one if I’m legally correct, right?” Fillion looked around the forest and leaned closer. “So, my friend is going to use my funds to finance a large collaborative hack. Basically, a group of people are getting paid to dig up any and all dirt on my dad. When they’re done, I’ll use the requirement of a new Code, or whatever it is you want, as leverage to not publicize details.”

  “I see. And what were your plans for such ‘dirt’ prior to this conversation?”

  Fillion smiled with Leaf’s astuteness, then dragged on his joint. He exhaled and resumed a sleepy trudge toward wherever Leaf was leading him and left the question dangling in the morning chill. Leaf didn’t need to know Fillion was going to use leverage to get Leaf reinstated in the Legacy as before. It was the least Fillion could do to make things right. But maybe Willow’s brother didn’t want that anymore. He’d let Leaf call the shots.

  They resumed silence once more, both lost to their confetti of thoughts. A mysterious breeze blew in gentle wisps through the trees every so often. Fillion lifted his eyes as he drew on the last bit of his joint and watched branches sway. This world seemed so real even though it was a mere simulation, a paradox his mind struggled to fathom.

  Footsteps echoed from behind and both Leaf and Fillion looked over their shoulders as a cloaked figure approached and halted in front of Leaf. As she flipped a large hood away from her face, all the air rushed out of Fillion. He swore under his breath. God, he felt so corny and lame. His mind immediately traveled back to last night. Apparently Willow’s mind did too. She acknowledged him with a quick nod before narrowing her eyes at her brother once again.

  “You were to escort Laurel and me to our home, were you not? I shared last night that such a request was completely unnecessary. However, Laurel is most insistent now.” She pursed her lips together. “As I am a grown woman, Connor allowed me to leave and fetch you, not wishing to intrude on his daughter’s ... privacy.” Willow raised her hands to her cheeks and averted her eyes.

  Fillion hid a smile by lifting the last of his joint and inhaling. He didn’t realize Willow and Laurel were staying at the Hansens. But it made sense. Leaf and Ember probably wanted privacy while they honeymooned.

  “I am most sorry,” Leaf said as he lowered his head and offered his hand. “I am rather distracted this morning.”

  Willow turned her head to the side and lifted her chin. “Dare I ask what has distracted you that you would remember the Outsider and not your sisters?” Leaf let out a heavy sigh and covered his face with his hands. Willow’s eyes widened before nervously darting Fillion’s direction. She whispered, “Please do not trouble yourself, My Lord. I do not have the heart for secrets this morning.”

  Leaf’s whole body seemed to relax with her words. “Come, let us fetch Laurel,” he said, offering an arm to Willow. Before leaving, Leaf shot a look at Fillion over his shoulder with a slight amused grin. “Do not sneak back into your apartment and crawl into bed. I shall not be as kind should I need to drag you from your covers once more.”

  “Pity,” Fillion said while stifling a yawn and chuckling.

  Willow whipped her head around and narrowed her eyes at him. Fillion didn’t know what he had said or done to earn her acute attention. Nevertheless, she appraised him as a complex look of fear and anger crossed her features.

  “How is it, sir, that you know Master Fillion?”

  “How is it, My Lady, that you know Master Fillion?”

  “It is complicated,” she said and narrowed her eyes further.

  Fillion lifted a single shoulder in a faint shrug. “Same here.”

  “Are you intentionally evading the question?”

  “No more than you.”

  She flashed a mischievous look his direction. “I do not fall to the whim of Outsider boyish fancies.”

  Fillion grinned, thinking of last night, and said, “Except when you’re walking in a dark forest at night.” Checkmate.

  He casually took a drag on the nub of his joint and exhaled slowly, but couldn’t hide the amusement. The look on her face was priceless. Leaf, however, squinted his eyes as he looked between Fillion and his sister. With an exaggerated harrumph, she faced the trail and Leaf took the cue to start back toward The Forge.

  The rhythm of Fillion’s steps became hypnotic as he attempted to pull inward and ruminate over plans. But his thoughts kept wandering back to Willow. She was beautiful to distraction and so damn cute when mad. Her long, wavy hair glinted gold in the flickering lantern-light, a white ribbon woven into a braid draping along her face. Remembering the feel of her hair slipping through his hands yesterday, he wanted to bury his face in the silky strands now.

  As if sensing his thoughts, Willow casually peered over her shoulder and sought his attention from down the path. And all he could do was stare, like an idiot. She was drawn to him? Wept for him? God, what was he thinking? Leaf may be kind and forgiving, but she would hate him with a fiery passion. That thought should terrify him, but strangely, it made him want to smile. Everything inside of him wanted to piss her off and then kiss her fury. It would be like kissing the surface of the sun.

  He bit the inside of his cheek again, wincing with the pain, and looked away. He needed to stay focused. Mind over matter. Yeah, right. Fillion raised his shoulders and lowered his head. She was on to him. And what seemed like a turn-on a few seconds earlier fed his greatest fear.

  ***

  The soul is a breath of living spirit, that with excellent sensitivity, permeates the entire body to give it life. Just so, the breath of the air makes the earth fruitful. Thus the air is the soul of the earth, moistening it, greening it.

  — Hildegard of Bingen, 12th century A.D. *

  ***

  Cold air awakened Oaklee’s mind, and her breath formed clouds as her family quietly led the way to The Rows. The early morning twilight held a stillness, nature’s collective breath held in anticipation of the sun’s rise. The dark lavender sky with tinges of gold on the dome horizon regally welcomed the residents of New Eden, a fitting gesture as they walked beneath the reflective canopy with lanterns in hand and hoods raised in mourning.

  Resentment continued to brew inside of her with each step. Leaf’s disregard for her and Laurel this morning did not help. Were the ceremonies of death part of this psychological game the Township played? Was the expectation to marry young part of this game as well? She was not entertained by Coal’s sacrifice to prove his love for her. This was real. This was her life. Confusion clouded her thoughts, and so she fastened her mind to Leaf’s reassurance that the first generation no longer played a game but embodied true convictions.

  This evening, the Township would feast upon edibles from the Ceremonial Garden, a communion to amalgamate each life together, dead and living. Death was honored within the tightly knit community. Each resident labored for the survival of all, ensuring the success of the project and, if actually on Mars, the continuation of life itself. Leaf was right, and she decided to push aside Outsider words as the enormity of this day dawned in her heart with the rising sun.

  Oaklee relished that the community tended to more than its physical survival. Their souls were connected, each breathing in the same atmosphere, air created by the essence of their very existence. The breath of one became the breath of another. When a newborn released its first cry or a resident exhaled their last to the Township, it altered the environment.

  Overcome with such thoughts while walking to The Rows, Oaklee inhaled deeply to saturate her body with the new make-up of the biodome’s atmosphere. Corlan was now a part of the air she breathed, and she studied the puffs of froz
en vapor that left his mouth as he walked behind Leaf. He met her curious stare. Shadows danced across his face in the flickering lantern glow. His features held an adorably sleepy expression, and he blinked in a slow manner as a near indiscernible grin tugged at his mouth.

  Their chance meeting in the forest the previous eve had rattled her nerves. She absently touched the fingers that had grazed his as she recalled his words from the feast. Her stomach fluttered with the memory of his warm breath on her neck, laced with wine, as he whispered in her ear to drink up and drink fast. Especially when she turned and her face nearly touched his. His voice, eyes, and smile were far too reminiscent of another to be a true stranger. Or so she thought.

  Corlan had studied her when he did not think she noticed, moments that increased as he drank more wine. She feigned ignorance and secretly studied him in return while resisting the unsettled feeling of being haunted.

  But their meeting this morning reawakened every question she had previously pushed aside as nonsensical notions born of grief. Convoluted feelings of betrayal and elation warred within her as she entertained that perhaps Corlan and Master Fillion were indeed one and the same. If they were not one and the same, they were most definitely twins. She had not taken leave of her senses. And his refusal to disclose his association to Master Fillion only confirmed this conclusion.

  When he spoke, the soft and dejected tones, edged in mild ridicule, made her want to close her eyes and allow the fluid sounds to wash over her like a gentle, mournful breeze. His blue eyes were otherworldly and possessed an intelligence and intensity Oaklee found beautiful. In truth, he was beautiful for a man, from his features to the emotions that shrouded him like a funeral cloth; and despite such observations, it only heightened his masculinity. His presence carried an authority and a diffident yet aristocratic grace unlike the Nobility of New Eden, but most certainly of a Noble bearing from his world. These were rather strange and forward thoughts, she realized, and Oaklee lowered her head to hide the blush that heated her skin.

  Nevertheless, the draw both she and Corlan experienced toward each other—the same one she shared with Master Fillion—was undeniable, and she felt so faithless. She did not possess romantic notions! Her heart’s response to his presence displeased her to no end. Why could she not have such feelings for Coal? Life would be so much simpler if only the Son of Fire stirred such reactions from her by simply walking into a room or suddenly materializing in the woods. But he did not.

  Leaf cast an inquisitive look her direction. Oaklee ignored him, keeping her vision as well as her footsteps moving toward the garden, wishing to answer only her own curiosities this day.

  She felt ready for this ritual, ready to purge her soul as she ceremonially performed an act of sacrifice so life could continue. In order to live, something must die. The black hands of death had ripped away pieces of her heart all week as it continued to beat within her chest. Tradition held that she and Leaf would figuratively die this day by denying their bodies comfort, sustenance, and companionship as they rested in the soil with their loved ones. Death makes way for the resurrection of new life. When they rose from the ashes eight hours later, they would begin anew, altered forever by the metamorphosis that would transpire during their time of death and rebirth. Rebirth would first come with a Celebration of Life; then, a day later, by resuming their toil in assigned tasks.

  Oaklee finally understood what it meant to continue living in the midst of grief. She still yearned for the comforting predictability of the previous life she had known. Even though she now realized how foolish those desires were in the end. Death may have taken pieces of her heart, but life would mend the tears with living memories by using the legacy of her father as the threads to stitch the stolen pieces back together. It was time to transcend, to reach beyond, grasping with determined strength to live.

  Upon arriving at the Ceremonial Garden, Leaf extended a hand as she sank to the living soil, then knelt beside her at a respectable distance. Oaklee placed a lantern before her on the ground and focused on the small flame as it danced upon the wick. The Code required family members over the age of thirteen to participate in the Last Ceremony. Although Ember was technically a family member now, she was excused in order to care for Laurel. The little girl now clung to Ember, her big eyes taking in the scene before them.

  Norah approached with the aid of her husband. With a shaky hand, she poured a small pool of oil into her palm from an alabaster vial. “May your family be blessed and your heart find hope as you journey through sorrow today.”

  Brother Markus prayed over Oaklee’s kneeling form and she closed her eyes as Norah traced a heart upon her forehead with the oil—the symbol of life and death in New Eden. The gentle touch brought tears to Oaklee’s eyes as she cherished the motherly hand upon her head.

  Norah likely would be the next loved one taken from their community. The Water Element’s fingers were bones, gaunt remains of a once-strong woman as the cancer living off of her body viciously claimed her life. Oaklee was thankful Norah was yet alive to initiate this Last Ceremony for her father. She could not imagine Connor or Timothy executing the rite of passage with the same tender ministrations. Norah dipped her finger into the oil and also placed a heart upon Leaf’s forehead as Brother Markus prayed over her brother.

  “A new day is dawning, Watson family,” Norah soothed as she chanted the conventional words. “Remember your father and the life he gave you. Remember the love and the richness of honor and integrity he cultivated in each of your hearts. Bury his death once more and then resurrect your mind and your heart to a new life. The old ways have passed away and became the foundation for the new road you shall walk, leading toward hope and a future marked with a deeper understanding of love and community.”

  Long, auburn hair fell across her shoulder as Norah leaned over and kissed the top of Oaklee’s head, bending deeply in order to reach her ear. “Be strong and courageous, My Lady,” she whispered for her alone. “You are a mighty oak and your roots are going deeper as you stretch and grow in unimaginable ways. Do not allow your father’s death and Coal’s absence rob you of your wild, bold, and beautiful spirit.”

  The words of encouragement and comfort washed over Oaklee and she wept. Norah caressed her cheek and wiped away the tears with motherly affection before moving over to Leaf, also kissing his head and leaning forward to speak into his ear. From her bowed posture, Oaklee watched as Leaf met Norah’s eyes, brimming with restrained emotion, and nodded quickly. She touched his chest just above his heart and Leaf lowered his head until his hood covered his features. His shoulders gently shook.

  With the blessing complete, Norah took her husband’s arm with marked weakness; he scooped her up and carried her down the footpath. Family groups passed by and bowed before Oaklee and her brother with solemn, reverent movements before departing for the village. A breeze had enchanted the air and the cloaks swished and flapped in a macabre dance as leaves rained through the sky. Flickering lantern light caught the leaves here and there as they fell, illuminating skeletal stems.

  When The Rows held only Oaklee’s family, The Daughter of Fire approached with Laurel. Leaf stared, riveted, and Oaklee flushed as her brother continued to regard his new wife with an open expression of love and desire. Ember rested her hand along his cheek with a sweet smile of adoration before she leaned down and bestowed a chaste kiss. Leaf, however, held her face and pulled her back toward him and ardently returned her kiss.

  Their little sister giggled and Oaklee turned several deeper shades of pink at her brother and sister-in-law’s immodest display. Ember giggled as well, whispered into Leaf’s ear, and slowly departed with one last coy glance over her shoulder.

  The Outsider winked at her brother with a sly, amused grin. It was a rather inappropriate response, but her brother did not appeared offended. Then Corlan studied her and his features softened. Strands of her hair wavered across her face beneath the hood, and Oaklee lowered her head in modesty as a bio-breeze r
ushed through the garden and pressed her cloak against her body. She simply could not process the possibility of the Dungeon Master in her garden, looking at her with such longing.

  The sound of Corlan’s retreating footsteps marked the official start of her and Leaf’s social seclusion, and her heart grew heavy in the growing silence. The dark greens bent and swayed in the gray light, and her cloak fluttered in the invisible air that stirred her heart. Drop by drop, her tears watered the ashes of her parents as she scooped a handful of the rich tilth, feeling the grains slip through her fingers. What else would she lose?

  “Leaf?” she asked quietly. He turned her direction with raised eyebrows. “I know it breaks tradition to speak with another, but I have questions and we are finally alone.” He gave a permissive nod. She whispered, “Why not ask The Elements about the card? Or bring our worries before the community? Surely there are many who would aid our cause and rally for justice.”

  Leaf paused with a wary expression as he considered her questions. “We are not dealing with a rational mind,” he eventually said in response. “To show such a card to the community may incite panic and unrest, which may be exactly what the card holder desires. Why else place such a card in Father’s pocket to be displayed publicly? So long as we remain the only family targeted, I shall not frighten our neighbors.”

  “Do you believe Father was murdered?”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “That is certainly the impression we are meant to receive. But I am not sure and, therefore, I am reluctant to assign such judgment.”

  Oaklee traced her finger through the dirt. “The response of The Elements yesterday was quite confusing.”

  “Indeed.” Leaf watched her closely as a small smile touched his face. “I do believe my return unsettled them—one of them, especially—a rather insightful exercise, I confess.”

  “You surprise me, My Lord.” Oaklee boldly met his eyes. “Is Corlan fully aware of our situation?”