Timothy reddened and turned for guidance to Connor, who gave a solemn nod of acknowledgment.
“Your father and mother would be most proud of you, son,” Connor said, his face tensing with emotion. Leaf’s eyes sheened, though he maintained a steadfast expression and sturdy posture. “This day, you boldly walked forward as a man and risked much for your family.” Connor knelt upon the wooden stage with one knee. “And I wish to be the first to proclaim: Hail, King Leaf, The Aether of New Eden Township!”
One by one, dazed and uncertain community members knelt down and began to chant, “Hail, King Leaf! Hail, King Leaf!” in a fashion closer to a reaction than a conviction. Oaklee’s hands flew to her mouth as she realized Connor had broken The Code and asked all, including the first generation, to do the same. They were all guilty now. It was a move that equalized the growing imbalance and provided leverage for any communications Leaf may have with Hanley over this incident. Never had she wanted to embrace Connor as she did now. He had given her family a beautiful gift from the ashes of this grievous adversity.
Fillion waved a hand through the air as if grabbing the image, and the document promptly vanished. The magic boggled Oaklee’s mind and she studied the silver object fastened to his ear. In fluid movements, Fillion lowered to one knee beside her and bowed deeply before her brother, turning his head to the side. Through lowered lashes, Oaklee studied Fillion from her position of honor, moved by his sacrifice.
“Thank you, Maiden,” he whispered, meeting her eyes.
“For what, My Lord?”
“Fillion.”
She sighed. “How have I earned your gratitude, Fillion?”
“You didn’t make me choose between you and your brother.” He bit his lower lip, more as a nervous gesture. “You kept your promise.”
“Aye, My Lord.” Oaklee hesitated, unconvinced of her brother’s brazen move, despite the cheers venerating Leaf with exaltation of his kingship. She turned toward Fillion and whispered, “My pledges of honor are always sincere.” Vulnerability flashed instantly in his sharp gaze, his eyes appearing to dim further, if that were possible. Without words, she knew he was thinking of an entirely different pledge.
Nearby movement caught her eye and Oaklee watched with disgust as Timothy knelt with obvious reluctance. She examined the room and noted many who did not kneel, however, their arms crossed over their chests or straight at their sides, stiffened with offense. Leaf also noted these individuals with a kind smile and bow, his stare unmistakably determined; and Oaklee could almost see the wheels turning in her brother’s head. Was one of these community members responsible for their pain and loss?
“Thank you for the esteem. Please rise,” Leaf said, thick with emotion. Rustling sounds of fabric and movement resounded throughout the room and when it quieted, Leaf continued. “I shall endeavor to be a man worthy of such a position and will uphold my family’s legacy of love and honor in our community.”
Her brother knelt on the stage and placed a hand on his heart as he lowered his head to return the honor given him. After several beats, he rose and nervously sought out Ember, his face relaxing as he beheld his wife. Ember blushed prettily and offered Leaf a beautiful smile, the pride fairly glowing all over her sister-in-law’s face. Laurel beamed as well, a wide smile gracing her small face as she stared in wonder at her brother. Leaf bowed toward Ember and Laurel, and then resumed a strong posture before the community.
“I wish to relay a message to Hanley Nichols and need your assistance,” Leaf said to the gathering. “To better estimate the opinion of those who wish to oppose project shutdown, I request that you divide into two groups. On this side of the Great Hall,” Leaf pointed with an extended hand toward the grand hearth, “is where I need you to stand if you wish to disband. Those who wish for a permanent residence within New Eden, stand over yonder.”
People studied one another with dubiety and then shuffled to separate parts of the room. She stared at her brother with swelling fear, wanting to pound him with her fists for making himself a grand target, yet embrace him for being so steadfast as he broke traditions for the sake of the community. Leaf turned his head and met her worried look. Subtly, he crossed his heart as a somber smile eclipsed his show of strength. To others, it may have appeared he adjusted his garment. But she understood his message and crossed her heart in reply.
The residents settled into positions, a large majority wishing to remain in New Eden permanently. Neighbors eyed each other warily, some with mounting hostility, and Oaklee felt the edges of her vision fade once more.
“Thank you. I shall send Hanley Nichols a message relaying that three-quarters of our community have declared their desire to request permanent residence within New Eden Township. Please, join one another and erase the line of separation. And please do not allow differences in opinion to divide our home. We are a unified community and shall stand strong, regardless of how many days we share together.”
Heads turned and sought the direction of neighbors. Feet shifted and low murmurs conferred. Then, one brave soul in favor of disbanding moved toward those who wished to remain, and another, followed by the rest of their small group. Once the community settled, Leaf offered an appreciative smile and issued another request.
“Skylar Kane and Ember Watson, please step forward.”
The air crackled with suspense, for the pairing was most unexpected, especially in light of Leaf and Ember’s elopement. Laurel ran to Oaklee’s side as Ember mounted the stage, and Oaklee placed a protective arm around her sister.
Leaf faced his friend and said, “Skylar, I wish to appoint you as the new Wind Element. Do you accept this position of honor?” Skylar shifted his eyes to Timothy. “Son of Wind,” Leaf said with firmness. “You are a man and do not need permission from your father. I possess the power to appoint another in your stead. I shall ask you again, do you accept the head Noble position of Wind Element?”
Skylar gripped Leaf’s forearm. “Yes, Your Majesty. I am honored and shall dedicate my life to the community.”
“Well said, and quite Noble of you,” Leaf replied in a hushed voice. “Have you been trained for the aristocracy?”
The new Wind Element laughed quietly, almost a forced sound, and with a wry smile walked away and stood behind Leaf.
“Ember Watson,” Leaf said in a much softer tone. “I wish to appoint Coal Hansen as the Fire Element. Do you accept this position in his absence as his First Representative?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, with honor.” Ember lowered to the ground with elegance. When she rose, Leaf took her hand and kissed it.
“Family,” her brother began again. “I present your new Element head Nobles of New Eden Township.” The community clapped their hands, some cheering. But most simply looked on wide-eyed, their hands moving only with obligation.
When the residents quieted, Leaf continued. “Today an incredible woman breathed her last. A woman I considered an adoptive mother, and I know many of you share similar sentiments. She embodied love and kindness and gave much of herself for our community. Let us set aside our differences and fears and remember the Daniels family this week as we observe all the rituals of death in Norah’s honor. Harvest is almost upon us, as well. There is much work to accomplish. A new Water Element shall be appointed in due time.”
Heads bowed in agreement, many placing hands upon their hearts, and Leaf closed his eyes with a look of relief. But Oaklee gathered that most did so out of obedience and to honor Norah, not her brother.
A faded beat rapped from a distance. A sound like war drums grew louder, as if an entire army marched over their heads. The pitter-patter of their footsteps rumbled with a steady pace. Her brother had just declared war, and the entire Great Hall stilled as the Outside weather thumped to the shift of their community’s atmosphere. Nevertheless, Oaklee gasped with delight, and placed a hand to her chest as her heart threatened to leave her body and join the rhythm echoing throughout the biodome.
As she stared
at the entrance, the Daughter of Water walked into the Great Hall with ghost-like movements. Her pale skin appeared transparent and gray beneath her exposed dark hair and swollen, red eyes. Upon seeing the gathering, she raised the hood of her cloak. The community acknowledged her state of mourning and followed suit to show their support.
Fillion leaned toward Oaklee. “What’s going on?”
The grass swayed in the bio-wind just past the giant hewn doors, propped open by stones, and shadows stained the landscape like watermarks. Oaklee smiled, blessed by Earth’s tears of sorrow over Norah’s death and tears of joy over Leaf’s triumph. Oaklee closed her eyes and imagined a weepy sky and a shower of water droplets crashing against her body. Oh, how she longed to immerse herself in the redemptive experience and forget all her woes and hardships. Was Coal given opportunity to enjoy such a wondrous phenomenon?
Her eyes fluttered open, and she nearly blushed with the unbound look in Fillion’s eyes as he admired her every nuance. Instead, she marveled over the flickering dotted shadows beyond the entry once more. The army continued to march, and she whispered, “Rain.”
***
Transitions prompted by hardships are essential experiences along life’s journey. The maturing of one’s mind and heart is always fraught with awkwardness, making it difficult to want to complete this process. However, if this step is skipped, the elements that comprise our inner-person risk remaining no more solid than shifting sand.
— Dr. Della Jayne Nichols, “The Necessity of Transitions,” Psychology Today, January 2049
***
Thursday, October 15, 2054
Mercer Island, Washington state
Tiny pin-prick drops stung Coal’s face as he emerged from the car, and he lifted his eyes to the dreary sky, mesmerized by the sensation. Since departing the airport, wisps of watery lace had streaked the car’s windows and Coal had stared with longing, wishing to feel rain against his skin. Two weeks prior it rained in Southern California, but the pollution level was too high for a stroll outside, according to Michael.
Coal continued to watch the sky in wonder, jumping when a drop of water landed in his eye. Humorously he wiped his face, realizing he must look rather stupid. From the corner of his eye, he noted that Hanley spoke with the chauffeur and had, thankfully, not noticed.
“Ready?” Hanley asked, pulling a small bag from the trunk. “The chauffeur will unload our belongings.”
Coal studied the large home with many windows winking in the afternoon light—incredulous that a small family needed such space—and then flitted his gaze around the property. His eyes fastened upon a body of water that sparkled and shimmered behind the Nichols residence, whispering an invitation to come stand before its shores.
“I need fresh air and shall join you shortly,” he said with a tight smile. “May I?” Coal nodded toward the lake.
Hanley looked in the direction Coal indicated. “Ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
Coal removed his shoes and socks with haste, and his feet wiggled in the lush, green grass. Hanley and the chauffeur walked away in brisk strides, eventually disappearing into the large abode.
Fat drops splattered across Coal’s body and he laughed, pulling the leather strip from his hair. He ran a hand through the loosened strands and closed his eyes while exposing his face to the sky once more, listening to the thundering pitter-patter of water colliding with earth. Giddiness filled him and he opened his eyes and jogged through the yard beyond the house.
The deep-blue surface of the water erupted with dainty gray-white splashes. A mist shrouded the structures over on the opposite shore, and they appeared as faerie homes nestled in an enchanted wood, the trees swaying with the same spell that bewitched him. He sat on the edge of the grass, sinking his toes into the rocky sand, not caring that he was drenched. Water and wind swirled around his form as he stared out into vastness. This was real. This was how the elements played and interacted with one another as nature intended.
A large smile touched his face and he fell backwards onto the grass, stretching out his arms as he closed his eyes. Water gently pulsed on his skin in an ancient rhythm and he breathed in deeply the mystery and wonder of such an experience. Bio-rain was a mechanical response, a shower that fell from pipes embedded within the geodesic sky. Clouds did not bring rain nor did the sky change color before the water fell. Gray had never looked as elegant as when it dressed the sky, he decided.
A contented sigh left his mouth right before an object jabbed his side, and he reflexively flew to a sitting position as his body snapped to attention. A young woman screamed and jumped back, dropping the offending stick as her hands covered her mouth. Large hazel eyes stared in horror, and he remained immobilized on the grass as his mind caught up with his pulse.
“I thought you were dead!” She lowered her hands, but her eyes remained rounded with fear.
“Forgive me for my unexpected resurrection,” he said with a lopsided grin, but she did not appear to appreciate humor this moment.
He casually studied her features, admiring how much prettier she was in person. The pictures on the Internet did not fully capture her pixie-like qualities as exhibited presently. Rivulets of water ran down her fair skin, sprinkled with tiny, nearly indiscernible freckles. Bruises or indicators of assault were absent from her face, most likely the result of an Outsider medical treatment. Lynden blinked, raising a hand to shield her vision from the rain, and the bright blue polish on her fingernails came alive against her black hood. An errant red strand peaked out, swooping over an eye, and he held back a smile, curious to see her vibrant tresses.
“Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing on my property?” She paused and widened her eyes once more. “Are you from the media?”
“No, I am from—”
“Go home or wherever it is you crawled out from.”
Coal lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “If only I could return home. Alas, you are stuck with me for a duration. Your father and I have just arrived.”
He gradually stood and moved the wet hair that had fallen in front of his face to behind his ears, feeling self-conscious of his charcoal-stained fingertips. Lynden took several steps backwards and then abruptly halted all movement upon noting his size. Her eyes trailed him from head to toe and then slowly back up again as she nibbled a lip ring on the left side of her mouth and twisted a black metal band round her thumb. The simple gray shirt he wore clung to his body as the water suctioned the material to his skin; and he warmed despite the damp chill as she appraised him, as if he may not possess familiar human traits.
Astonishment transitioned to annoyance, and her features hardened as their gazes collided in mutual curiosity and irritation. Still, he remembered his manners and bowed as a gentleman should. He anxiously met her eyes once more, brightened by a thick black line that rimmed her eyelashes and a dark, sparkly purple paint upon her lids.
Extending his hand, he said, “I am—”
She groaned, interrupting his introduction, and then rolled her eyes while placing her fidgeting hands into the pockets of her tattered jacket. Lynden quirked her eyebrow with a blasé expression and then stomped toward the house. He rapidly blinked his eyes as nerves pooled in his stomach. Confused, he ambled toward the house a few strides behind. In two weeks, he had met many people. But she was the first to intentionally snub him.
What had he done?
Did she resent it that her father employed him to guard her in public?
Or was he viewed as a lesser human in her eyes since he was merely the product of an experiment?
The glass door leading into the house shut in his face and he stood awkwardly, not sure if he should enter while dripping wet, or what to make of her rudeness. Nevertheless, standing outside while looking in was even more awkward. So he turned the knob and entered with quiet steps, startling when a hand grabbed him roughly by the belt loop and yanked, leading him across the tiled floor to a highly polished wood table.
&nb
sp; Lynden shook her head as if he was a helpless lad in desperate need of assistance. “Sit,” she commanded, then pushed him into a chair. Of course he would have to sit.
Coal licked his lips nervously, leaning against the chair back, and averted his eyes to ensure he did not cause further offense. But his blood boiled and he worked hard to bank the growing heat in his veins. And then he felt guilt, for no doubt she was still processing the many emotions from her traumatic experience. Perhaps he had frightened her.
Coal chanced a look her way when Lynden opened a giant metal box, sticking her head in as she rummaged around. In smooth movements she turned his direction and threw an apple. Coal caught the red fruit easily, marveling at the chilled outer skin before peering her way in question. She smirked and then grabbed another apple and a small cup with a metal lid. The young woman hopped onto a marble counter, tucked the apple into a pocket and then shut the box’s door with her foot while opening the metal lid on the cup with her teeth while simultaneously leaning to the side and opening up a drawer. Her eyes looked up to the ceiling in concentration as the metal lid tore off the cup, hanging in her teeth, and she lifted up a spoon in celebration. Coal had to suppress a smile, amused with her unladylike deportment.
He subtly took in her fashion as she sauntered his direction, unable to understand why some young men and women of the Outside preferred clothing that was ripped, hanging in strange threads, and wrapped in some areas like bandages. Chains and straps apparently were not meant for function but for ornamentation. Her pants strangely ended mid-thigh, held on by straps that disappeared under a rather short skirt. Coal looked away embarrassed, not wishing to appear ungentlemanly or insensitive to any form of modesty she may possess. The young women of this culture did not hide their bodies as he was accustomed and he warred with constant guilt, feeling dishonorable in the direction of his thoughts at times.
Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2) Page 23
