Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) (37 page)

Leaf’s words hit him deep. Jealousy rose even though they were lab rats in a maze. The medieval hippies had a better life than he had ever known. Leaf had love? Support? Staring at the can, he could see a muted image of himself reflected back. The hood covered his eyes and exposed his nose and mouth. They were features that were more his mom than dad. What was his legacy? Hanley shifted in his chair and he knew the dead space was making his dad feel uncomfortable. He turned toward Leaf and Willow, drawing in a breath ready to speak when he heard her voice, soft and sad.

“Why are you sharing this information with us, Dungeon Master?”

He looked at Willow and felt his heart constrict, knowing his words wounded her. She would hate him for it, but they needed to know. If they wanted to protect their family, they needed to know the truth. And he wanted the Dungeon Master to deliver this news. Not Corlan Jayne, who he hoped would play a different role. One he was desperately trying to figure out.

“Maiden, that answer is far too complicated for right now.” He cleared his throat in discomfort as the memories whooshed through his mind of the last six years. Fillion didn’t mind fighting Leaf at this level. But after seeing her cry minutes earlier, he felt remorse for his path. Even though it was the right one.

“Just know there are relics in New Eden of their gaming past. And the people who knew the real world have been playing this game for twenty years. Chances are their minds are beginning to believe it’s real. You were raised by a bunch of geeks who signed away their soul to an experimental game, and signed away your souls too.” Fillion glanced over his shoulder again, and met his dad’s eyes, “A game designed by Hanley Nichols, an expert Gamemaster.”

Fillion
watched as his dad readjusted his position and Fillion knew his vengeance was meeting its mark. In a few hours, it wouldn’t matter anymore. Hanley would win, and Fillion would join New Eden Township against his will. But as much as Fillion wanted his dad to believe he hated the very idea, Fillion knew his will was bending, if only a little.

Fillion desired to see Willow, to know her, to rescue her from the prison his dad had designed for them both. And he wanted to know what it was like to belong to a world where sons can boast of a father’s love and a community’s support. Where young men didn’t need to feel alive through instant gratification and by raging against their culture.

Pondering Leaf’s words, Fillion tried to make sense of what he meant by how men didn’t take what wasn’t theirs to have. At what point did feelings play into this statement? What if both consenting parties wanted to take from each other? Or was this a morality transcending feelings? Something that had more to do with chivalry and less to do with acting on urges? He creased his brows while contemplating Leaf’s words, imagining a society where a young man didn’t pursue sex from women to satisfy an emotional hole in his life. Did the women feel a strong sense of purpose and value as well? Holding the men to higher standards? He just couldn’t imagine how that all worked, as much as he tried.

Fillion started to freak, not understanding the rules of engagement. He wanted Corlan Jayne to fit in with New Eden, even though he didn’t quite understand how. Still, he should shock the enclosed culture a bit to ready them for when they would join the real world. A long sigh escaped as he gave into his thoughts. He was trash, and no matter how hard he tried, he would litter their society in some way.

Ultimately though, Fillion’s greatest fear was that if he walked into New Eden, he would exit as one of Hanley’s greatest assets. He would know the game in ways his dad had no comprehension, and could then be used to manipulate and referee the players.

Leaf began again in a low and confident voice, and Fillion snapped out of his thoughts.

“In this game you speak of—the relics, would any be a card with a candle on it?”

Fillion heard his dad clear his throat with Leaf’s question, a message that he was supposed to deflect, but he wouldn’t. This was the question he had hoped to receive. Surprising him, Leaf pulled out the card and showed it to the screen. The world instantly slowed down as his mind gave way to a familiar nightmare. Voices in his head began to shout that he was the son of a killer. Oh god, he knew this card! In his father’s office was a picture frame with various mounted cards, and this was one of them. Why didn’t he think of it sooner when Willow emailed him the description?

“Shit!” Fillion breathed, furiously attempting to think of something to say. Would all his fears and fantasies come to life? What the hell was going on?

He knew his voice would shake from the adrenaline. So
Fillion closed his eyes and thought of all the contempt he felt for Hanley. Fillion’s heart began to accelerate with rage, and he hoped this emotion outweighed the others. The glass foundation his dad had laid beneath Fillion’s feet began to crack, and Fillion had to regain control before his sanity shattered once again. He refused to lose his mind to another nervous breakdown.

Opening his eyes,
Fillion said with derisive tones, “Of course, where else did you think the card came from? Do you have a printing press inside that hippie commune you call home?”

“No, we do not, as well you know,” Leaf answered in a
laid-back voice.

Fillion recognized the tone as a man knowledgeable of his own authority and power.

Casually running a hand through his wavy curls, Leaf gave him a subtle smile, communicating a challenge, and then asked, “What do you know of this card, since you seem to know so much of this apparent game we play?”

Fillion
resisted the urge to look at his dad. “It’s a death card. Did you find it on a dead man?”

Fillion knew the answer to that question, chancing a glance Willow’s direction. She paled again as his words and his attitude injured her further. Good. Let her forget the Dungeon Master. In a couple of hours he would die and be resurrected as another identity he possessed. The law of a closed-loop system made complete, as his dad would say. Life. Death. Rebirth.

“Yes, I found it on my father before the Cremation Ceremony,” Leaf paused, looking at his sister while releasing a slow breath. “I was supposed to pull out the card publicly while checking my father’s pockets for any personal items per tradition, but I did so privately prior to the ceremony and found the card. I ruined whatever plan the owner of this card had in publicizing my father’s death. Only an Element would have had access to my father’s body that morning while he was laid out in our home.”

Goosebumps rose on Fillion’s arms again,
thinking of a cremation ceremony. “Exactly what did you want me to tell you? Sounds like you have it all figured out, coming from such a supportive community and all.” Fillion smirked, raising an eyebrow with an air of detached irritation.

“You...,” Willow began to fume, but Leaf caught her arm. Her brother held her tightly as she fought against him, making her whimper as she jerked her arm. Leaf wanted to fight his own battle and Fillion gave an appreciative grin as the Dungeon Master. The spark of confidence missing from their last meeting now appeared as a full blaze this morning.

“Please excuse my sister, sir. She tends to take everything quite personally.” Willow yanked her arm away and stomped to the other side of the room. “Of course, I have no expectations for you to assist us, despite your claims of being our salvation. I was simply sharing, in light of your explanation.”

The noble bowed in respect and Fillion felt his ego amp up, knowing this was Leaf’s way of mocking him in return.
Fillion would push back, and nearly crowed in triumph with his next vindictive thought. At this moment, revenge was sweet, even though he knew he’d pay for it eventually.

“Please give Hanley Nichols my regards, and do be sure to tell him about your parents.” Fillion gave an arrogant smile. “He knew them. Well, he was close with Joel. They go way back apparently, but Hanley barely knew Claire. That is a story for a different time, though. You should ask him. I’m sure he’d be eager to tell you
all
the details.”

Willow whipped her head his direction from across the room.
Fillion could see several questions burn in her eyes before the anger melted away. A look formed on her features that he struggled to discern.

“Yes, I know everything there is about you, Leaf, about your sisters Willow Oak and Laurel, as well as your parents,” Fillion said. “I know their history, and I’m intimately familiar with yours, too. There are things you haven’t a clue about concerning your life that would shock you and make you reconsider your lofty speech.”

Leaf raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t flinch with Fillion’s words. So, Fillion decided to try another tactic.

He gave his dad a sly look, and then said, “I also know you’re The Aether, fulfilling The Legacy through the Watson line. I’ve read The Legacy and know every single detail of that document.”

Leaf gasped in shock and Willow rounded her eyes to look stunned to convince her brother when he glanced her way. And then she turned Fillion’s direction, blushing as she boldly met his shadowed eyes. Was she thinking of their emails a couple of days ago?

She slowly walked closer to the camera, playing with a strand of her hair as she kept her eyes to the ground. God, she was beautiful. Had she been thinking of him? Fillion resisted the urge to smile stupidly. It didn’t matter that she was the first girl who had ever affected him in such a real way. They were from two separate worlds. It was an impossible idea, even though Fillion felt himself falling for her. He couldn’t help it.

“Have you known from the beginning who I am?” Willow asked in a smooth voice while she continued to wrap her hair around a finger.

Fillion swallowed as he battled against the forming feelings. She had been a part of his life for so long, and the lunacy of this moment made him question his reality. He pinched his arm under the table and winced at the pain, finding his voice.

“Yes,” he responded tightly, unable to lie, and unable to keep his breathing calm. She would reject him in the end and for several reasons.

“How is that possible, sir?” she asked, gently biting her lower lip and slowly meeting his gaze.

Fillion didn’t know how much longer he could stand this, hating himself. He cursed Fate once again for placing him in an impossible situation. He had to remember his mission and remember to play his role, becoming what they imagined a Dungeon Master to be.

“I’m a Dungeon Master for New Eden Enterprises, and I know many things about the township you call home, especially regarding people held captive like
you
,” he said, hoping to intimidate her from asking further questions and to kill the emotions churning in his stomach. “That’s my job.”

Startled by his answer, Willow tried to find his eyes beneath the shadow of his hood. He blinked, feeling a painful ache inside his chest as the crushing disappointment flushed across her features.

“S’il te plaît reste calme et ne réponds pas à ses provocations,” Leaf said to Willow, who clenched and relaxed her fists, over and over again, as her eyes began to water.

Understanding Leaf’s communication, which Fillion guessed was to stay calm, Willow gave a slight nod. She relaxed her posture and focused her attention on his mouth through the video feed. It was one of the only features she could see due to the oversized hood he found in a costume closet.

Did she wonder where his piercings went? Was she stirred up by his rakish behavior while another part of her wanted to rip him to shreds due to his rudeness? He would give anything to know what she was thinking. Unable to resist the opportunity, he gave her a flirtatious smile and felt the energy amp up between them. Flustered, she looked away, flushing at being caught fixating on his mouth. But her lips lifted at the corners of her mouth in a small smile.

“Ah, the hope I was looking for. Thank you, fair Maiden,” Fillion mused, chuckling roguishly. “I was led to believe there was nothing about me you would
ever
fall for.”

“You are a pig!”

Her face registered what she voiced while her eyes held an entirely different emotion.

Fillion laughed out loud, unable to stop himself. She was such a brat. His mind and heart greedily absorbed the interest she secretly expressed, even though it left him baffled. Was it his imagination? Was he losing his mind again? He wasn’t nice to them, so why would she be interested in the Dungeon Master? Or was it
him
? He sucked in his breath, and closed his eyes as his entire system felt humbled at the idea. How was she able to see past all the games? Opening his eyes, he rested his gaze on Leaf. He needed to push his thoughts off of Willow and plot his next move.

Leaf scrunched up his face in confusion and then glanced Willow’s direction. Offense quickly replaced the confusion at seeing her fiery expression.
Leaf turned and gave Fillion a look that shot daggers, one that spoke of determination to shift the focus away from his sister with an additional unspoken message that he had better comply. Fillion wanted to taunt, “Or what?” But he held back, waiting to see what the Noble would do. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Then you really are our salvation. It is a relief to know someone on the Outside knows our history,” Leaf said casually as he held his hand out to Willow.

She pulled the Scroll out of a pocket, placing it in Leaf’s hands. As she did, a yellow leaf fell to the floor. With swift movements, Willow bent over and picked up the leaf, caressing it gently with her fingers before placing it back into her pocket. Her reflective expression made Fillion pause. What gives with the leaf?