Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2)

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Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2) Page 43

by Sundin, Jesikah


  “You are welcome.” Coal flaunted a charming smile, hoping it covered up his fear and discomfort.

  “What the hell are you talking about? Mel couldn’t keep their eyes off my legs. Business skirt for the win.” Mack winked and jumped from his chair, striding toward the exit.

  Several hours later, Coal crawled into bed. He pressed his face into a pillow to stifle a sob and wrapped his hands around his stomach. There were images he could not unsee. Pain that could not be unfelt. Shame that would forever burn his soul.

  Grief claimed him and upwelled all the agonizing emotions he had been attempted to tamp down. His mind conjured images of his loved ones in response. Norah’s face smiled at him, then Joel’s. Ember took his hand, his sister’s brown eyes gazing at him with worry. Blaze and Corona waved, gleeful at his sight, and oblivious to how much he had changed. His father placed a large hand on his shoulder and squeezed. It was Oaklee’s image that finally broke him, however, and he clutched the pillow as his body convulsed. He would spend her sixteenth birthday participating in a collaborative hack.

  A soft touch brushed his hair from his forehead and he looked up to find Lynden leaning over his bed. “Hey, Mr. Awesome,” she whispered. “I heard a sound and thought it was you.”

  He rolled to his side in order to see her better. “Please do not tell me to tough—”

  “Shhh.”

  She gently brushed her fingers through his hair again. In smooth, graceful movements, Lynden slid beneath the covers and curved her body against his. Coal’s breath shuddered and he wrapped an arm around her waist, burying his face into her hair. Back home, this would be considered one of the highest forms of scandalous behavior, her reputation only saved through marriage. Here, right this moment, the chaste intimacy soothed his pain and sparked a small flame of hope. He pulled her tighter against himself.

  Lynden was right. Until now, he never had to emotionally survive, and he needed her. Perhaps she sought the safety and consolation of his embrace as well.

  Their shared warmth lulled him and, eventually, Coal fell asleep with her secure in his arms. Later that morning, he awoke to an empty bed, confused, and wondered if he had dreamed the moment. So many experiences of this world were not real, a bitter truth that persistently ached inside of him. Especially as he attempted to orient himself once more. Still unsure, he looked down at his wrist and ran a finger along the black, shiny ribbon.

  ***

  Your love has wrested me away from me,

  You’re the one I need, you’re the one I crave.

  Day and night I burn, gripped by agony,

  You’re the one I need, you’re the one I crave.

  I find no great joy in being alive,

  If I cease to exist, I would not grieve,

  The only solace I have is your love,

  You’re the one I need, you’re the one I crave.

  — Yunus Emres, 13th century A.D. *

  ***

  Wednesday, October 28, 2054

  New Eden Township, Salton Sea, California

  The hour of rest had descended upon the biodome nearly a quarter of an hour prior, leaving the fields and surrounding areas empty. Oaklee rambled through the meadow toward The Forge to shelve her heckling combs.

  Today, she had spent most of the afternoon brushing through bushels of fiber for other village spinners. Older apprentices worked nearby and utilized a brake to crush the outer stem of the flax straw and a scutching board to remove loose pieces of chaff still clinging to the newly freed fibers. Occasionally, she would pause in her work to inspect and instruct as needed. The pounding rhythm still echoed in her head. The younger apprentices had gathered at her feet and corded the fresh, carded fiber. Although not necessary, it gave their small hands an occupation which, in the end, enabled the spinners to draft the prepared fibers with more ease.

  Without a wheel, Oaklee had been relegated by the head spinner, Mistress Katie, to the duty of overseeing the apprentices. It was an employment she did not mind so much. As such, she had remained available as the apprentices properly stored the partially processed flax linen and larger tools until the morrow. The only remaining task now involved her heckles, which she carried in a work basket. Several of the iron tines on her finer comb had become misshapen and a small number had broken off completely. Oaklee made a mental note to mention the needed repairs to Connor over evening meal.

  The back walls of The Forge ran beneath her fingertips as she caressed the mud surface. The Orchard lay a stone’s throw away and she stared wistfully toward the knotted branches and beyond to The Rows. The wheat fields in the main dome had been felled with success, and the reapers moved to the Mediterranean biome as a select group of villagers winnowed the first harvest. Traces of the sweet, earthy fragrance still carried on the bio-wind, but it waned more and more each day.

  Although the reaping rhythm was established, her brother dragged his feet into their apartment every evening. He maintained a ready smile despite the ever present dark circles beneath his eyes. Laurel would perch next to him on a chair, lean her head on his shoulder, and fill his ear with the latest gossip among the children.

  Ember, ever quiet and resourceful, prepared a tumbler of hard cider from the Great Hall for Leaf before each hour of rest, as well as a bucket of water with fresh hemp wash rags so he might freshen before evening meal. Their gazes lingered on each other as Ember moved about the apartment, both careful not to steal attention from Laurel’s birdsong chatter. As weary as Leaf was, he never interrupted their sister. Instead, he would further indulge her by asking questions and making comments about her stories.

  In three weeks, Laurel would begin an apprenticeship with the Herbalist, and the evenings would be filled with new adventures and stories. Joannah was kind and carried thoughtful wisdom, and Oaklee was grateful her sister would study under such a respected woman in the community.

  After soaking up attention from Leaf, Laurel flitted Oaklee’s direction, skipping merrily across the wooden planked floor. With a kiss upon Laurel’s forehead, Leaf would continue toward his room to rest and refresh. Oaklee savored these moments and often thought of Mother as she sat quietly in a corner with Laurel to provide basic lessons on sewing or knitting. She was Laurel’s age when Mother passed away, but the tucked-away memories unfolded with each stitch. Especially when she praised her little sister or guided her with additional lessons as Mother had for her half a lifetime ago.

  A month had passed since her father and Norah had died. Although their home would never be the same, nor their community, Oaklee drew comfort from the new patterns and traditions they had established together. Touches of grief afflicted her in some moments, but it no longer carried her away. The swaths of mourning cloth that had shrouded her life unraveled layer by layer and, to her amazement, a different woman slowly emerged. Girlhood almost seemed an entire lifetime ago.

  The strained atmosphere of the community continued to build, however, and she worried that a flood of angry protests might wash away the remaining remnants of peace. Since the Moores and Carsons left, an entirely new tension plucked at the taut, fragile state of New Eden. Neighbors turned on each other, hissing and spewing hateful words to one another on the village paths and in the Great Hall. A small pocket still demanded Skylar Kane as King and Aether, but the vast majority supported her brother.

  The day Leaf drew a line in the fields with expectations of love and peace and granted permission for people to leave without shame or judgment, he earned the community’s respect. Leaf, however, carried the guilt upon his sleeves, unable to cope with the fact that two families had actually left. He and Jeff had escorted both families personally to The Door with Scrolls in hand. Her brother, then, disappeared for the remainder of the day, only returning before Laurel headed off to bed.

  Since that fateful day, Skylar remained hidden from the community, and many speculated he was behind the rumors as a form of vengeance. Oaklee, however, could not believe Skylar capable of such malicious behavi
or. Timothy, his wife, and their daughters showed at every meal and community event, and Timothy laughed and charmed those in his company with his jovial nature. For some time, Oaklee had been wary of the former Wind Element’s behavior, especially toward their family. But now, she thought him akin to a snake—something she feared—and she avoided him at every opportunity. Sadly, her fear of Timothy trickled to Skylar, even though she did not judge the Son of Wind. She simply did not know how to interact with the awkwardness of unresolved conflict.

  For Skylar’s sake, she was grateful some did not shy away as she did. While delivering processed flax to Mistress Katie the other day, she discovered Fillion outside the Kane apartment. Oaklee had ducked behind a tree and listened as Fillion asked Skylar to join him for a walk. The Wind Element accepted with reluctance, and only with a hood over his head to hide most of his features. Before she departed, she heard Fillion say, “I get it. My community judges me because of Hanley. Being a political son is a shitty life. You can’t hide, though. It only feeds the rumors.”

  Oaklee smiled with the memory, moved by Fillion’s compassion as he drew Skylar out of the shadows. Since the day the two families departed the community, Fillion had risen as a visible leader. Rather than shrink away from accusations, both he and Leaf had established a time following evening meal in the Great Hall for residents to sit and process their fears and grief. As the New Eden Enterprises representative, Fillion was able to reassure many of their legal rights and allay their unfounded fears of the future. Jeff sat beside Fillion to further confirm the Outsider’s statements.

  Several times she had overheard villagers ask Fillion to use his magic to connect to their loved ones. But he refrained, kindly, with explanations that even though he was the Son of Eden, his magic had limitations and “summoning” was one of them. Messenger Pigeon was never offered as an alternative, a decision the new Elements agreed upon as the first generation already knew of this option and had chosen, from the beginning, to not exercise it. Emotions were simply too high and erratic, Leaf had explained. It was best to wait until the Second Phase and use the time they had now to establish trust between the community and new leadership.

  Through it all, a confidence glowed on Fillion’s countenance, a confidence she found alluring. He was a far different man than the one who had entered New Eden. Then again, she had changed much as well. Everyone had.

  Over the last week, she and Fillion had grown comfortable together in casual conversation over meals and at the apartment. Often, he would sit beside her after evening sessions with the community and watch her hands work with one project or another, asking detailed questions about the process of her task. She had come to realize that his mind loathed the idea of rest and needed constant stimulation.

  She, in turn, would listen to Fillion and Leaf debrief their evening sessions and pluck at ideas. Oaklee enjoyed Fillion’s philosophical speeches, never tiring of his ability to reform thoughts, ideas, and long-held beliefs as if clay and he the artist, applying pressure here, carving away there, and pulling apart and fusing together pieces to make a new whole. His voice shifted from soft to biting, from warmth to a burning cold. With eyes closed, she was convinced his voice reflected a soul that was the very source of the wind, one that gently caressed topics or gusted personal convictions with passion. Often, Fillion would ask her to contribute her own thoughts, a consideration and level of respect never given her by another before. Leaf would listen to her responses with a small, proud smile, further bolstering her own confidence.

  Both she and Fillion were ever so careful to establish physical distance since the day she sought his comfort. Though, if she were honest, she coveted his touch. Longed for it. Lately, she fell asleep to thoughts of what it would be like to know his love and love him in return. The forbidden thoughts shocked her, trepidation curling itself around her mind and heart. She did not wish for such intimacies, feared them actually. Curiosity still tempted, nonetheless.

  Her mind was quickly running away from her, and she suppressed a sigh. Oaklee pulled her fingertips from The Forge’s wall and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, attempting to think of other things. But she could not. A deep voice rumbled nearby, just as she was about to round the corner, and Oaklee finally startled from her thoughts. She scanned the meadow and confirmed that nobody could see her. Eavesdropping was highly inconsiderate. Nevertheless, she pressed her body to the wall and listened upon recognizing her brother, although she could not make out his words.

  “What sign shall I deliver?” Skylar asked, his voice hopeless. “All I have is my oath that I am not behind the rumors nor have I encouraged such sentiments. I am not your enemy, and I am honored to kneel before you, My King.”

  “Sky,” Leaf sighed, “Please. We are alone. I grow weary of titles.” Silence ticked to the rhythm of Oaklee’s heartbeat. Her brother continued, “I am frightened, my family...”

  “No harm shall come to them.”

  “You speak with such assurance.”

  “I speak as one who knows our community. They are confused, but I am unable to believe they would physically harm women and children.”

  “The community is far too influenced by fear and has already demonstrated irrational and dishonorable behavior.” Leaf cleared his throat. “Fillion’s team shall explore our concerns.”

  “You once asked me if I ever wondered how young men our age live beyond these panes.” Skylar’s voice cracked. “I replied that I did not, but it is not true. I know we are far different, and that truth shall destroy our generation. It already is in the process of doing so. We were never meant to survive on Earth.”

  They grew silent once more and Oaklee tensed as she considered Skylar’s words. They were never meant to survive on Earth? The mystery of those words spooked her. Immediately thinking of Coal, she stole a glimpse of the geodesic sky as if the fractured panes held the answers. Another secret weighed upon her to consider, and the sudden heaviness exhausted what remained of her energy this day. She could not endure more changes, most especially after securing her footing upon the new path she trod. And what did her brother mean by Fillion’s team?

  “No matter what Fillion’s team unearths or confirms,” Leaf said, calm, steady, “I shall always remain your family, Sky. You stand upon your own merit. You are my brother.”

  “Leaf—”

  “I shall not allow fear to destroy our home.” The passion in Leaf’s voice moved Oaklee with a surge of pride. “This may have begun as an experiment, but this is my life, and my mother and father both died so I may have it. They will not have died in vain.”

  “Spying?” a soft voice whispered into her ear. Oaklee jumped back and spun toward the source with a hand upon her chest. Fillion leaned a shoulder against the wall, placed a joint in his mouth and puffed, exhaling a thin stream away from her face.

  “Of course not,” she whispered back with an indignant huff, and lifted her chin. Shame burned through her at being caught, but she refused to entertain him.

  “Nah, not your style. You prefer the more covert, stealthy approach of demanding information.”

  “I do no—” she replied louder than she intended and clapped a hand over her mouth. Fillion struggled to hide a smile, taking the basket of heckling combs from her hand.

  “I’ll put these away for you so you can get back to not spying,” he said with a wink, the bored look on his face giving him away. He pushed off the wall and turned the corner toward Leaf and Skylar, tipping his head as he walked by them.

  Irritated with Fillion’s nettling, she clenched her fists and trailed after him, breezing by Leaf and Skylar without acknowledgement. From the corner of her eye, however, she noted the confused expression on her brother’s face. But she continued to march toward The Forge. Narrowing her eyes, she opened the large doors, pausing only briefly for her sight to adjust.

  Fillion continued to smile in that annoying, arrogant way of his, but did not acknowledge her entrance. He fidgeted with a sheet draped
over a large object. Perplexed, she placed hands on hips and glared at him lest her irritation give way to another emotion entirely. Still, he ignored her. She took heavy steps to announce her presence, had he not noticed previously, and waited until he was impelled to look her way.

  “Come to demand an explanation? The stomping was very sneaky. I’m impressed.” His face remained inscrutable, but his eyes glinted with merriment.

  “The meadow was empty,” Oaklee said. “How did you come upon me?”

  “You’re not the only spy in New Eden.” He looked away and picked at the sheet to hide his amusement. “But you’re definitely the most formidable.”

  “Hardly. Where did you come from?”

  “A ninja never reveals his secrets.” Fillion stiffened and provided a quick, tight bow and uttered words in a language she could not understand.

  “Pray tell, what is a ninja?” He just stared, quirking an eyebrow as if throwing the question back at her. Losing patience, she placed hands on hips once more, watching his body shake with a low, quiet laugh. “Why do you enjoy vexing me so?”

  “I like sparring words with you.” She pursed her lips with this comment. “But mostly, you’re cute when you’re mad.”

  “I am—” Her eyes grew wide and her mouth slackened in disbelief. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Granted. Although, I think you should really beg your brother’s pardon.”

  She sucked in an angry breath. “Fillion Nichols!”

  He laughed and attempted to puff on his joint again, but covered his mouth with the back of his hand in amusement, instead. The joint dangled loosely from his fingers, and wispy smoke danced until it disappeared into the shadows. Their eyes found each other and his face relaxed as he took a step toward her, blinking slowly to flirt with her temper.

  Oaklee backed up, gasping when she pressed against a workbench. The fire crackled and flickered amber hues across his face, highlighting his dashing features. She leveled her gaze, however, refusing to appear enfeebled, even though her legs grew unsteady the closer he came. If he kissed her, she feared she might actually faint. But, oh, how she hoped he did!

 

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