Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2)

by Sundin, Jesikah

  “Yes, he knows.”

  “And does he know who you are?”

  Leaf scanned the gardens with panic, then whispered, “Yes, he knew upon arrival.”

  “Is he also aware of a forming faction?” Oaklee was growing irritated and threw in this bit of knowledge without sharing its source.

  Leaf flinched and lowered his head into his hands, and Oaklee stiffened. Once again, her brother struggled to formulate words to a secret he held close. Resentment toward her brother quickly began to build a raging storm inside of her. Skylar had spoken truth. Trust was paramount inside the biodome, indeed.

  “Oaklee, I am most sorry you did not hear about this situation from me. It was not intentional, I assure you.” Leaf looked around the garden a moment, gradually meeting her inquisitive stare. “Yes, Corlan is aware of the possible faction.”

  “And how is it, My Lord, that you found time to share with the Outsider and not your own sister?”

  “Skylar mentioned the possibility of a faction to me Friday eve prior to my request to hold the Earth Element position. As you know, the last day has held more emotions and life-altering activities than a single day should.” Leaf’s face fell into an imploring look, beseeching her to believe him. “Corlan and I spoke while you rested yesterday afternoon and further discussed the situation this morning.”

  “Is he Master Fillion?” The question left her mouth before she could control her impulses. Leaf’s eyes widened for the briefest of moments before returning to a contemplative look, as if he deeply considered her question. “’Tis a simple inquiry, Leaf. You are a terrible liar.” Angry tears formed and escaped despite all efforts to remain in control. “How could you? I trusted you and in the process made a complete fool of myself. How shall I ever face him again?”

  Her brother appeared genuinely pained and he blinked several times before releasing an anguished sigh. “Willow—”

  “Oaklee.”

  “Oaklee, I have known since you fainted in the Cave. I asked him to keep his identity hidden from you. Do not be cross with him. I am to blame for this deception.”

  “Does Master Fillion now do your bidding? My, how the roles have reversed.” Oaklee scoffed and glared at her brother. “The deception began far before he entered our town. You are both to blame.”

  “True, although to use your own words from our time at the portal, Master Fillion is more than he appears,” Leaf said, his mouth set in a troubled line. “I was wrong to keep from you his identity, but Willow, I was scared. Since Father died, I have spent every moment of my new life ensuring your and Laurel’s safety, which has proved an exhausting feat this week.”

  He paused and looked down at the ground momentarily and blinked his eyes again. “You gave your heart to Fillion as a token of your affection. I did not know his character, and what he had demonstrated thus far through the portal did not recommend him as an honorable man. His intentions were rather clear and ungentlemanly. Please believe me when I say that my decision was not to patronize you, but as an act of brotherly protection.”

  She played with the edge of her cloak as she pondered her brother’s words. A strong bio-breeze rushed through the meadow, and the gardens and trees bowed before its invisible power as the leaves sang lyrics of fealty, loyal subjects to the wind. Her heart pulsed with the music as her spirit accepted that she, too, was subject to the winds of change. She desperately wished for predictability. But secrets continued to unearth and chain their cold, unfeeling fingers around her ankles, anchoring her to a shifting future she could not control.

  This thought pulled up an image of Corlan—no, Fillion—as he stood in the sunlight of the Outside. His ankles and wrists had been chained and his faced was bruised. He remained withdrawn and quiet as a dark grief shrouded his presence, a festering whirlwind of emotion that made Hurricane Willow a mere gust of wind in comparison. The oppression and deeply rooted fury even now was palpable. Every so often he would reply with a witty quip and offer a small smile or laugh, but she knew it was a mask. She wore a mask of a similar nature.

  What horrors had Fillion faced? What horrors would Coal face? Would the Son of Fire return as a broken spirit devoid of life? Would the technology ghosts absorb Coal’s goodness and spit out an angry soul? A sob caught in her throat as she thought of how her selfishness had reaped a rotten harvest. Thoughts pushed against her head until she thought she might burst from the pressure, one mystery rising above them all. Oaklee turned toward her brother and asked, “Who is he?”

  “He is Fillion Nichols, eldest son of Hanley Nichols, a prince of his world and heir to New Eden Township.”

  She did not know what answer to expect, but this information was beyond shocking. Her mouth slackened as a multitude of thoughts and feelings—contrary to the previous ones—overwhelmed her all at once.

  “I pledged my heart—”

  “Yes,” Leaf said.

  “But he appeared—”

  “I know. ’Tis how his generation fashions themselves. He was required to go through a transformation before entering our town.”

  “The son of Della and the daughter of Joel.” She smiled to herself as her heart marinated in the epiphany. He was a prince, and she a princess. She did not possess romantic notions but the enigma of their circumstances filled her with a wondrous awe. And fury. He had played a dangerous game, manipulating and mocking her from the onset. Was their moment in the portal even real? Or in the Cave? Or was it all part of a role he played for his father’s game? Voice tight, she asked, “Am I the reason for his presence?”

  “No, and yes. The reasons are rather complicated and I shall allow him to explain—when he is ready. The story is his to share and I shall not dishonor him, and neither shall you.” Leaf regarded her with a serious expression.

  “Just days prior you said he was a man you would never welcome as my husband, chastising me for my unladylike deportment. And now you defend him?” Oaklee shook her head. “I am all astonishment. Has Master Fillion wooed you with his power and prestige, now that you know who he really is?” She lifted her chin and spat, “You have wounded me! How shall I trust anything you say or do?”

  She could see the wheels turning inside her brother’s mind as he weighed and measured every piece of information. He moved so that he faced her, reached out, and took her hands. She flinched with his touch, but allowed it when seeing the remorse in his eyes.

  “I told Coal I would never force you to marry, despite the community’s expectations and traditions. Yesterday, I did not know he would kiss you and pledge himself to you. I am most sorry and have struggled with guilt over his actions, especially as you had refused him already.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but he held up a hand.

  “Connor spoke correctly yesterday, and I stand behind his words of wisdom. Father would wish for you to marry for your reasons alone. Do not feel pressured by Coal—and do not feel beholden to Fillion.” Leaf bowed his head. “You have shown me that you know your own heart, and I trust you.”

  Her mouth slackened and her eyes rounded. Disarmed, she blinked back her confusion and righteous indignation. “I do not blame you for Coal’s or my behavior,” Oaklee said softly. “I have no desire to marry. As for Fillion, I was given an opportunity to show compassion to a man I truly believed was going to war and would die, and I could not bear such thoughts. Oh, how that man infuriates me! How dare he toy with my heart in such a way,” she ground out. After a measured breath, she began again in a much calmer tone. “Fillion feared my rejection. Does he not have another to comfort him? Why did he seek my approval?”

  Leaf shifted his eyes and Willow felt the hurricane winds gain strength inside of her once more. Her brother could never hide anything.

  “You know, do you not?”

  Her brother remained silent for several heartbeats before he asked in whisper, “Do you love him?”

  “Have you lost your senses, Leaf?”

  He smiled. “No, my wits are quite secure. Your
s, however, should be questioned.” She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes and he quietly laughed. “Do you recall your words to me? You spoke with sighs of a connection that could not be explained.”

  “Spoke with sighs?” Her eyes widened at the mere thought and she lowered her head. Had she spoken with sighs? Perhaps a little, she internally relented, and she placed her hands on her cheeks with mortification.

  “Yes, you were lost to me at one moment.”

  “I shall admit that I find him intriguing and enjoyed our battle of words.” (And his smile nearly unraveled every offense she felt toward him, she continued in her mind.) “But I am not in love with him. How could I? I do not know him, and what little I do know vexes me. Love is formed from mutual respect and companionship, of which we have neither.”

  “And what if he claims the heart you have gifted him?” Leaf raised his eyebrows.

  Oaklee watched the greens sway in the breeze. She did not know how to answer Leaf. Although she did not wish to marry, she could not deny the part of her that came alive when in his presence.

  “I have enjoyed one night with my wife.” Leaf’s complexion turned various shades of red and he looked at the ground, gently touching the dark green leaf of a spinach plant as he cleared his throat. “I would never wish for you to share so much of yourself with a man not worthy of your heart. You say you do not wish to marry, and I can understand why, but I see the way you steal glances at Fillion and how he admires you. Even, dear sister, when you believed he was Corlan.” Leaf lifted his head and sought her eyes. “You are practical and logical, albeit tempestuous in your delivery. This riddle has plagued me. I must relent. Perhaps there is an attraction that goes beyond superficial elements as you say, for it is not in your nature to behave this way.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes. “Leaf...”

  “I am sorry that a woman could not have this sensitive conversation with you.” Leaf frowned. “Despite what you may believe, I do love you exceedingly. You are my family, Willow Oak. I would do anything to protect you and ensure your happiness.”

  “I do not deserve you, Leaf Watson.”

  Oaklee flung her arms around Leaf’s neck and nearly knocked him over. She held onto him and buried her face into his shoulder. They continued to cling to each other until Oaklee’s eyes grew heavy with fatigue. As she drew away to move back to her position, Leaf kissed her forehead with a kind smile, and she giggled.

  ***

  Adams: I understand that The Elements are players from the Eco-Crafting Eden series that aired for a couple of years. Rumors and behind-the-scenes gossip hinted that one of these players was responsible for the faction that nearly brought down the game. Is this true?

  Nichols: Do I believe one of them intelligent enough to pull off such a show-stopping stunt? Absolutely. You have to admit, the faction was a brilliant move by whoever internally sabotaged our game world. Terraloch nearly lost everything. It was our collective strategy and solidarity that overcame the possible game-ending faction, though. So, all this to say, I do not believe one of The Elements was responsible in that game. The Elements and I have known each other since our early teens and formed an alliance and a camaraderie that intentionally bleeds into game life.

  — Jennifer Adams and Hanley Nichols, Atoms to Adams Daily Show, August 15, 2030

  ***

  The air was comfortably warm beneath the shade of a large and impressive olive tree. Coal sat upon the packed earth and surveyed the Outside world for the first time. Reddish soil covered his hands as he absently broke apart dry clumps with his fingertips, his mind all the while processing the sights, sounds, and smells of planet Earth. Until yesterday, he was not entirely convinced they were on Earth.

  How would he have known?

  The Elements had shared that, by law, they were required to ensure everyone knew they were on Earth although they lived as if they were an actual colony on Mars. But Coal did not have context for such a law, nor was he given opportunity to verify such knowledge.

  He stretched out his legs and contemplated the sky, squinting against the afternoon light. The expanse was endless and reflected a rich shade of blue his eyes had never beheld. Small wispy clouds lightly smudged the uppermost reaches of the sky and Coal furrowed his brows.

  Were not clouds larger and, according to his education, the bearers of rain?

  How could such minuscule wisps enable the atmosphere to weep and water the land?

  His body ached to move, so he rose and headed toward the garden. Since his arrival, every moment was spent in a stationary state. It was a bizarre reality to live in a world where most jobs were performed from a chair. His trade was physically laborious and his body spent a good portion of the day in motion. Those around him seemed soft and scrawny. Coal knew his size was larger than most, same as his father, but beyond the walls of his home he seemed a giant.

  Plants brushed against his fingers and legs as he traversed the small trails. Most of the edible vegetation was familiar. Chickens roamed the shrubs and verdant patches and scratched the dirt in search of insects. A bee buzzed by his ear and he turned his head and watched it land in a pea bonnet and then pay a visit to another nearby. So many sights were familiar, and yet they were not foreign.

  Sunlight touched his skin and he paused with the sudden heat. Coal lifted his head to the sky, closed his eyes, and allowed the fiery star to bathe his face and arms in warmth.

  “You need to get back into the shade,” Michael hollered from a distance. Coal opened his eyes and sighed once more. He took two steps back and felt the temperature drop considerably. “I found an old umbrella.” The scientist jogged up next to him out of breath and popped open an odd, black contraption. “This will keep you shaded. Remember, your skin is not used to such intense UV lighting.”

  “Thank you,” Coal said as he accepted the shading device. He could not remember the word Michael had used. Although he understood the caution, all he heard was fear. Since he emerged, every reaction was one of fear. There was fear of spreading germs, fear of contracting viruses and bacteria, fear of media, fear over his ability to integrate with society, and now fear of the sun. It was rather tiresome, and Coal longed for quietude.

  “Now that you have shade, you want to stick to the gardens?”

  Coal glanced at the biodomes beyond the lab. “Are there restrictions as to where I may walk?”

  Michael followed Coal’s line of vision and his usual jovial disposition became thoughtful. “No. I’ll be over at the lab door if you need anything.” The scientist jogged to the shade, turned, and waved.

  Coal’s heart leapt as he stepped toward his home. The aquarium materialized in his mind’s eye and he envisioned the community swimming blissfully in their unnatural environment. Now he was an Outsider. He had joined the people of myth and lore. In many ways he felt like a newborn babe who longed to be swaddled upon entering such vastness after a confined existence. Coal wished to place his head upon the biodome panes and feel the heartbeat of his life-giver, to touch his mother home once more. And like a babe, he had to find contentment from external comfort while longing for the internal.

  His eyes beheld the domes one last time before focusing on the ground as he walked. The shadows of this world were different than New Eden, and telling time took more concentration than before. Inside the lab there were no natural shadows. Rather, they were fabricated from overhead lighting. The people checked a Cranium—a most peculiar technology—for time, information, needs, and communication. It was as if the human soul and brain were sucked from the body and placed within the small, silver device. Michael assured him that before he arrived in Seattle, Coal would know how to use a Cranium. It was mind-boggling and Coal grasped for the familiar in response.

  His eyes focused on his lithe silhouette, which stretched in a long length and walked in tandem with his form. After a few footsteps, he concluded it was nearing five in the afternoon time.

  Today was the Last Ceremony, and he thought of Oaklee a
nd Leaf kneeling in the soil of the Ceremonial Garden. At this hour, the community was returning to their homes for the afternoon rest prior to the Celebration of Life. Coal was grateful Oaklee had not knelt alone, an experience he knew would further break her fractured heart.

  His shadow stretched up a wall of reflective glass and he followed the dark line up, squinting. His eyes trailed the height of the structure until the back of his head was nearly resting upon his shoulders. Tentatively, each finger caressed the surface and he breathed in deep as a weight crushed him. A sob formed in the back of his throat, and he dropped the shading device and pressed his entire body against the outer north wall of the main biodome as he wept. Until this moment he did not have words for his feelings, but his heart grieved. It was if he had died, eternally separated from those he loved, given one last opportunity to connect from the Outside before he must choose to walk forward into his afterlife.

  Each memory of his loved ones caused his body to heave with grief until he felt his heart would collapse. He slid against the panes and sat in the thirsty soil and watched his tears evaporate within seconds. A gentle breeze embraced his form and he felt momentarily comforted by the invisible. It was time to separate from his prior existence and accept his new life. Today, new beginnings were celebrated in New Eden, and he would join them in spirit.

  Reluctantly, Coal took a single step back from the reflective panes as he wiped the remaining tears from his face. With one last touch upon the mysteriously cool surface, he squared his shoulders, turned, and walked away. The future would be different. It may be lonely and sterile within a scientific community, but his past lived inside of him always. He would embrace this opportunity and, when ninety days passed, he hoped to return a better man than the one who left. Even though he feared he might never return. There was no previous experience to lend such reassurance.

  The parched soil scraped against the sole of his shoe as he shuffled along the path. He had indeed left New Eden barefoot, and so they bought him a pair of shoes. Coal walked toward a large iron gate, wishing to see the world beyond New Eden Biospherics & Research. He left one set of walls only to be comforted within another set, granting him freedom without overwhelming his sense of space. A metal fence framed the landscape, decorated by even taller shrubs that flowered in a profuse display of reds, pinks, and whites, offset by dark, thin green leaves. The shrub buzzed and hummed in a strange rhythm as bees covered the flowers, seemingly drunk in a paradise of pollen.