Transitions Page 5

  A low hum of tension vibrated from table to table. Dishes clanked in soft murmurs and voices remained whispers. Souls, believing themselves brave, chanced a look at her. She replied with a kind smile each time. Their ignorance was a poor excuse for her lack of compassion, especially as their Queen and Fire Element, their humble servant.

  In truth, she had more pity for the villagers than anything else. The second generation were not groomed for adaptability. Nor had they much practice in the art of change. Each day had been the same. Each day until the end of September, that is. Then their world collided with another and people reacted as though Earth was a hostile enemy rather than their origin. The sudden presence of technology among their own only triggered this irrationality all the more. And strangely, it was worse among the first generation, those who should know better.

  Her mind reached into the unknown for a glimmer of understanding. A sensation answered back, faint and distant. Stifling a yawn, she looked into her bowl of porridge. Bland and tasteless and growing cold, in many ways like New Eden Township. She dribbled in a spoonful of honey. Amber swirls dissolved into the oats until unseen. The sweetness, however, remained present. The enticing scent wafted upward with the waning steam.

  It seemed so simple, the idea of change. On the surface, one life experience appeared to blend into the next, like honey in porridge. But this is not so, merely an illusion. Taking a bite, she appreciated the new complexity of textures and flavors not previously present. If only all experiences resulted in pleasure. With disagreements, such as now, life lacked piquancy and the sweetness turned to ash on her tongue as her heart leadened.

  Ember sighed with a mild twinge of nausea and absently placed a bandaged hand upon her belly. Across the table, Skylar’s gaze traveled to her hand and rested there a few heartbeats before looking away. Did he perchance hear of the coming babe? Did the community? Willow sent her a knowing smile, warm and beauteous, confirming Ember’s suspicions. Of course it was announced. How else could her father and Skylar properly defend the nosebleed and fainting spell? This was why the community remained silent––they were ashamed. Embarrassed herself, Ember set her spoon on the table and lowered her eyes, the meager appetite she had entertained now gone.

  “Time is both an ally and an enemy,” she said under her breath.

  “Your Highness?” Worry wrinkled Leaf’s forehead as he angled in his chair to face her. Bending low, he asked, “Are you well?”

  “Yes, quite, Your Majesty.” With a smile, Ember withdrew a pinch of salt from the salt bowl and added it her porridge. She forced a small bite for Leaf’s benefit.

  Skylar studied her from his position on the opposite end of the table and intuition rushed through her like a mighty wind. Salt and honey, wise as serpents and gentle as doves. A revelation bloomed within the periphery of her mind and she smiled once more.

  She faced Skylar. “My Lord,” she began, “do you have plans following morning meal?”

  “My day is yours to command.” Skylar’s face remained stoic, posture straight. His eyes, however, held an intensity she had not seen since the night of the Great Fire. Normally he was shuttered, private, even more so than her husband. But she knew the Son of Wind suffered, afflicted the same as Leaf. With his gaze locked onto hers, he asked, “How may I be of service, Your Highness?”

  “I wish to discuss a matter of import with you and His Majesty.” The room had silenced even more during their small exchange. Villagers pretended to eat with heads tilted toward the head table all the while attempting to appear inconspicuous. Ember swallowed and softened her voice. “Thank you for lending me your time, My Lord.”

  Skylar rose from his chair, pushed his half-eaten meal way, and splayed his hands onto the table. His fingers arched, as if clawing the wood, his chin tucked toward his chest. Normally, he shuttered away all emotion from his face. But now, the ignominy was all too clear. With a bow, he excused himself and strode from the Great Hall. All heads turned her direction, but she focused only on her porridge.

  She knew where he would be when she and Leaf were ready.

  The patterned sky seemed within reach, as if her hand could caress the glass surface. The biting wind buffeted against her exposed skin, her hair swirling about her face. What would it be like to fly? To soar above it all and soak in every sight? She often held this thought whilst looking over the edge of the observation deck. This morning, however, she longed to fly beyond the lined sky toward the clouds.

  Back turned to her and Leaf, Skylar leaned his forearms on the railing and peered out over the main biodome. In some ways, he reminded her of Fillion. In the manner of his walk and personal carriage for sure, being both a shadow and a brilliant light. The Son of Wind was a paradox, a puzzle. He was tall and lean like the Son of Eden. He observed the world around him in the same quiet yet intense way, too.

  Cousins. It was a strange thought. She was considered Fillion’s cousin as well, although by marriage only. Unlike Skylar, who was Hanley’s legitimate nephew. Did he know? Had Leaf shared with him? Before Leaf departed New Eden the night of the Great Fire to confront Hanley, Fillion had informed him of Mack’s findings. Leaf had not been the same since. But, then again, no one had since that fated night.

  Transitions, her mind whispered. They were a community in transition, rising from the ashes.

  Light brown hair flew about in the wind, covering Skylar’s hazel eyes as he peered over his shoulder at their approach. Lips flushed and parted, tears stained his cheeks and her heart stilled. This man had endured so much for her safety and that of Leaf. Before she could say anything, Skylar fell onto his knees before her feet.

  “I beg your forgiveness.” His voice shuddered in the wind, angry, broken. “Upon my honor as a man, I yield my life to you.”

  “There is nothing to forgive,” Ember said, placing her hand on his head. “You are a man of commendable honor.”

  His face grimaced, teeth gritting against the storm whipping around inside of him. Lifting his eyes, he shouted, “You shall not pay for my sins! Especially... especially now...”

  Ember blanched as the pain of his words gripped her. Another gust rushed by and carried off his tears. “You have committed no sins against me.” She knelt before him and took his hands, forcing him to look at her, to really look at her. His hazel eyes quivered, the faint freckles on his skin surfacing as his skin deadened to an ashen color. “You are not to blame, for anything.”

  “My actions have called your reputation into question.”

  “Your father threatened you, My Lord. He used my safety as a means to motivate you.” Ember squeezed his fingers, wincing with the pain in her own. “It was a strategic move to potentially marry you into position for the invisible throne.” Ember looked at Leaf and said, “Though I knew not who was to become The Aether, my father did.” She returned attention to Skylar. “And he allowed you to court my affections before the community, knowing full well that your father’s hand was involved, that you would never willingly cause your friend harm, and that my affections were for another. You feared for me and protected me at the cost of your own honor and friendship. You knew I understood your position from the start. How can you now apologize?” Her thumb brushed over the back of his hand. She lowered her voice to barely a whisper and said, “You possess a beautiful heart, Skylar Kane.”

  More tears slipped past his self-control. Sacrifices of grief for the wind, sacrifices of honor. He whispered back, “The community believes you have bewitched me as well as Leaf. The villagers spoke of you controlling the hearts of men. I even heard—” He stopped, his skin reddening. Lowering his voice even more, he said, “Some women this morn even called into question whose babe you carry. My actions have dishonored you, Lady Ember.”

  Ember heated with mortification, grateful that Skylar kept his eyes fastened to the deck flooring. She surreptitiously glanced at Leaf, but he did not appear to have heard Skylar’s hushed comment in the roaring wind. Though embarrassed, she said, “Thei
r opinions are not a reflection of you or me, for we know the truth. They shall say anything to defend their fear and ignorance.”

  Skylar inhaled a sharp breath. “Hanley knew the community would punish you for his decision to roll out the Education Plan. He knew Leaf was in the room listening as well. And he knew it would break me to watch you suffer.” He spat, “And still I followed through with his orders—”

  “As did I. Orders I could have easily refused to obey as well.” She cut him off, awareness shimmering to the forefront of her mind. “You are not the only one to have betrayed trust and good sense, or those you care about, My Lord.” He hung his head, his shoulders rising and falling. “It is time you and Leaf spoke to one another. Do not grant Hanley’s plan of division any morsel of victory.”

  “You speak with wisdom, Your Highness, as always.” His gaze roamed over her face in contemplation as he whispered her words from the Communications Room: “Fear shall make enemies of us all.”

  Skylar helped her rise, eyebrows drawn tight and teeth clenched. His black cloak lifted in the billowing atmosphere and fluttered, his hair wild. This moment, he looked ancient and fierce, as if he contained the wind’s pulse within his beating heart. Behind shifting strands, his bloodshot eyes leveled onto the Son of Earth. Skylar hesitantly reached out then grabbed Leaf’s forearm as his face contorted in misery.

  “I am so very sorry that my family is cause for discord yet again. Have mercy on me, on my sisters.” Holding firm to Leaf’s forearm, he knelt down on one leg and lowered his head. “You are my King. All that I am, all that I have is yours. The Techsmith Guild swears its fealty to you, Your Majesty.”

  Leaf pulled Skylar back to a stand and used the momentum to draw him close. He gripped Skylar by the shoulders, their foreheads touching. “You are my family, Sky.”

  The Son of Wind’s body sagged as Leaf wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. All the grief Skylar held within his shattered life broke free and his body began to shake, his cloak snapping in the force of the air swirling and rushing by. Used and discarded, punished still, Skylar was alone. He and his sisters made reparations for sins they did not commit whilst their mother lay stricken in bed. How did one heal from such trauma? She knew not.

  “We are now fatherless,” Leaf began, “both of us raised up in the aristocracy to become political sons of misfortune.” A shiver coursed down her spine with his words. “But it is not our identity. You stand upon your own merit, Sky. I am forever honored and deeply humbled to call you my brother.”

  They continued to cling to one another, Leaf’s fingers digging into Skylar’s back. Their unshakable bond was rich and beautiful. Another layer of filth and grime lifted off of Ember and she tilted her face to the gales galloping across the tree tops. Her generation paid for the choices of the first. But Ember was clean. They were clean.

  Shyness crept in and Skylar focused on the wooden deck as he pulled away. With a need to gather himself, he wrapped his cloak tight around his body as he returned to the railing and peered out once more. Strands of her hair floated and danced in the turbulent air. The hidden turbines powering the bio-wind blasted another gust and her dress pressed hard against her body. They remained silent, lost to their own thoughts while Skylar comforted his grief.

  Time slipped by, slow and steady, and she eventually sensed the need to redirect their conversation back toward a solution, the very reason she called Skylar and Leaf together. Straightening her shoulders, she angled her body toward Leaf. “Your Majesty,” she began. Skylar peered over his shoulder at the sound of her voice. “How do you advise the Techsmith Guild?”

  Leaf furrowed his brows at her question before covering his face with his hands. He needed to disappear within himself, to remove all distractions. Skylar moved to her side as they awaited an answer. She felt his eyes on her, though his head was downcast, and she understood his silent message of gratitude. Though she never removed her focus from Leaf, she issued a single, curt nod.

  “I believe,” Leaf said, dropping his hands, “New Eden needs a different form of demonstration and reassurance. How many times can the community break The Code without consequences?”

  “The Techsmith Guild was created to help with transitions during Project Phase Two, Your Majesty,” Skylar offered. “I had not thought of consequences, actually. Her Highness and I as well as all others within the Guild have signed an addendum to The Code, permitting us the use of technology.”

  Leaf squinted his eyes. “An addendum to The Code?”

  “Yes,” Skylar answered.

  “Then have you signed the original document?”

  Skylar blinked, his face relaxing into his usual stoic expression. “No, I have not. I was under the impression that we were grandfathered into it until the day you and Fillion confronted New Eden.”

  “Have you signed The Code?” Leaf asked her. She shook her head no, and he sighed, long and heavy. “Does it not seem like a test of honor? It feels as though Hanley is setting up the first generation to break contract. But why?” When neither she or Skylar offered an answer, Leaf whispered, “He shall never tell us.”

  “Shall we approach Jeff for an addendum the first generation may sign before partaking in technology education?” Skylar asked.

  “No,” Ember interjected, and both men turned toward her with raised brows. “Let us only offer it to the second generation who have come of age and by choice, not demand. The first generation joined New Eden to experience a life free of modern technology. The Techsmith Guild invalidates the very sacrifices they made to fully realize these convictions. We should respect their wishes.”

  Leaf smiled and, with such adoration, a blush crept up her neck. “Indeed, Your Highness,” he said, his voice soft and full of admiration. “And what shall you teach the second generation?”

  “Simple mechanics and operations,” Skylar offered. “We were to introduce the idea of technology without direct application.”

  “Though I do believe there should be a defined purpose and use beyond introduction, do you not agree?” she asked Skylar. Ember folded her hands at her waist and shifted into a posture of regal elegance. “After all, we are fighting for project continuation. What need have we for technology?” The Son of Wind considered her question a few heartbeats before gently nodding his head. “What do you suggest, Guild Captain?”

  “I need time to ponder, if I may?” Skylar asked. Both she and Leaf dipped their heads in answer. “When do you desire an answer, Your Majesty?”

  “Whenever a viable one presents itself, though I prefer soon after Yuletide, if only to not invite more trouble from Hanley.”

  “Very well. I also believe Lady Rain should be privy to our discussions and participate in decisions.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Leaf said.

  Skylar continued, “I shall inform her of our concerns and observations.”

  “Thank you, My Lord.” Leaf bowed. “Let us meet at my apartment following evening meal. The education class, as it were, is hereby canceled.”

  The Son of Wind returned the bow, first to Leaf, then to her before departing for the village. As he passed her, he whispered for her alone, “I would gladly give my life for yours, My Queen.” Their eyes locked for half a heartbeat. In that small measure of time, a bond had sealed them. Though she declared him innocent, his honor demanded a price in order to forgive himself, and he had named it. She smiled her understanding and relief softened his eyes as he strode toward the stairs.

  A breeze moved through her as if she were mere vapor, leaving the chill of near winter in its wake. Leaf sidled up from behind and wrapped her in an embrace, covering her with his cloak. Together they surveyed their Kingdom in silent unity as her mind bathed in pleasurable buzzing sensations. Ember leaned the back of her head against her husband’s chest, absorbing his warmth and strength. She encouraged his hands to cradle her stomach while she took hold of his cloak, pulling it tighter around them. Leaf smiled into her hair and she closed her eyes.


  Their struggles were not yet over. Secrets were foolish creatures, she reminded herself. She would no longer play with fools. Time heals wounds but it also erodes memories as life weathers on. No, they would continue the fragile dance of trading one set of troubles for another all the days of their lives. Nevertheless, as she rested in deep pools of peace for the first time in weeks, she offered up a smile of her own. It was a gift for the wind to share with those who listen to its tales. Her heart whispered of hope and new beginnings for their generation and the one after. All would be well.

  She had a hunch.

  SKYLAR

  ***

  The trees inside Biosphere 2 grew rapidly, more rapidly than they did outside of the dome, but they also fell over before reaching maturation. After looking at the root systems and outer layers of bark, the scientists came to realize that a lack of wind in Biosphere 2 caused a deficiency of stress wood. Stress wood helps a tree position itself for optimal sun absorption and it also helps trees grow more solidly. Without stress wood, a tree can grow quickly, but it cannot support itself fully. It cannot withstand normal wear and tear, and survive. In other words, the trees needed some stress in order to thrive in the long run.

  –– Travis Brownley, “The Necessity of Stress,” Heads and Tales at Marin Academy, https://travisma.wordpress.com/2013/12/12/the-necessity-of-stress/, December 12, 2013 *

  The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son: the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.

  ––Ezekiel 18:20, The Holy Bible, King James Version *

  I suggested we leave, but he refused. Through his tears, he said he could not leave because the others had labeled him a bad prisoner. Even though he was feeling sick, he wanted to go back and prove he was not a bad prisoner.

  At that point I said, “Listen, you are not #819. You are [his name], and my name is Dr. Zimbardo. I am a psychologist, not a prison superintendent, and this is not a real prison. This is just an experiment, and those are students, not prisoners, just like you. Let's go.”