The Element- Chapter 1, first 15 min

Alowyn is lying in the grass, daydreaming about the arbor where she lives and imagining her future. She is reminded of her deceased father and feels a sense of grief. Her mother calls her for dinner and mentions that her uncle is coming with a surprise. Alowyn hopes it is news about attending a writing school in Wolken, but her mother mentions a boy named Michael who is pursuing her. Alowyn gets dressed and opens the door to find her uncle and the Mayor of Wolken. Her uncle reveals that the mayor is there to interview Alowyn to be a scribe for the Element Party in Bakka, a prestigious event. Alowyn is shocked and excited at the opportunity. Chapter 1 The grass was damp, soaking through Alowyn's shirt a bit as she lay flat, staring absently. The sun was so warm on her back, she hardly noticed the coolness of the ground. Two feet away, a train of black ants wound around in an indiscernible labyrinth pattern. How they stayed in such precise formation was beyond her. A breeze rustled the branches of a blossom tree overhead, and suddenly sunbeams covered the ground, shining like bits of polished mirror. She closed her eyes and imagined each blade of grass was one of the trees in the arbor, and each ant one of its citizens. How many times had she played this game since she was little? The tiny society the ants lived in felt safe, small, and predictable. She liked that, lately, life was changing too quickly. She would be graduating soon, and the future loomed large before her. The afternoon spring winds had begun to make her long for summer nights. As she rolled onto her back, looking at the sky through leaves, a few pink blossoms drifted down around her into her black hair. One of them floated from the tree right into the palm of her hand. She held it gently. It was moments like this where she felt so deeply in love with the arbor, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else. Aloyn had only ever known the arbor. The countryside may not be as loud as Baca, the Fire City, or mysterious as Alluris, where water people dwelt, or ornate as the Sky People's mountain city, Wolken. But the arbor had sown stronger people amongst the frozen years, generations ago. The harsh winter that stretched entire lifetimes had seen its heartiest, bravest hunters, and its communities had never seen petty division. It was home for her and those who are deeply connected to the earth. It smelled of wood fires and soft, damp grass. There were rumors that fairies lived here. The brick walls of shops had tiny doors built into them where children could leave their wishes. Aloyn was more gratifying than sitting on a hill at night and watching the sun bow out of the sky, leaving trails of magenta and burnt orange behind, falling to the earth. You would swear you'd never seen that shade of purple anywhere else in the universe. These were the things that made up Aloyn, the things she would carry with her the rest of her life. The pit of her stomach twinged. She would carry these images with her, but she would also carry her grief. All these things reminded her that her father wasn't here. Her father had died when she was only three. Her memories of him were blurry. The sound of his ringing laugh that shook the walls, his warmth when he held her small body to his chest, his smell of chopped wood and crisp autumn air were all gone now, and she ached to know why. She had already inspected every blade of grass, every creek, every baby turtle around the arbor, and still, she didn't know so many things. Aloyn knew she couldn't stay here forever, but her palms ached with grief at the thought of leaving. Aloyn! She groaned softly. Her mother's voice called to help with dinner. It could get enraging whenever she insisted Aloyn stop daydreaming and put an hour or two into the business of the real world. If the world was made up of two types of people, she was the type that needed answers. Her mother was the type who held things together by insisting answers weren't necessary, and that making stew and washing clothes were much more important to the unfolding of the universe than answering silly philosophical questions about the existence of life in the first place. Still, Aloyn was lucky to have such a strong, dedicated woman for a mother, especially with her father gone. She had a presence that made the world seem safe, fair, even reasonable. She believed the world to be that way, and so it was. Lazily, she shifted to sit up. Coming! She lifted herself from the soft ground and walked slowly through the grass. Lately, she hadn't been hungry. It was as though her mind were already far in the future. Her uncle was coming to dinner this evening with a surprise for her. With school coming to an end, she had a few ideas of what it could be. Most people around Aloyn knew she dreamed of seeing other places and being a writer famous for pointing out lovely pieces of the world no one else saw. There was Astara Institute, a writing school in Wolken, the most famous city in Sky Country. Unfortunately, her mother didn't have the money to send her, so maybe her uncle would bring news he would pay for her to attend. She quickened her steps at the thought. The smell of warm biscuits baking greeted her as she opened the front door. Her mother looked up from the kitchen counter where she was carving a freshly roasted chicken. Her long auburn hair was tucked up and pinned carefully out of her face as usual. Aloyn, there you are. Bring me that bag of carrots, please. That sweet boy Michael came and left them for us. She hummed softly as her knife sawed up and down. Aloyn forced down a tug of nausea. Michael was bright and handsome, with thick blonde hair and a smile that could sell milk to a dairy farm. He was one of the Arbor's most popular boys. He was also very openly pursuing Aloyn's hand in marriage, even though she told him she was not interested. Apparently, it only compelled him to try harder. He became more handsome, muscular, and competitive with each passing year, all to break down Aloyn's resistance and secure her as his. It was embarrassing how her mother knew about his feelings. The Arbor was big enough that everyone knew almost everyone, and almost all their business as well. Did you hear me, dear? You must be sure to thank Michael. Her mom, of course, thought it was wonderful Aloyn had such a handsome boy pursuing her, and she wouldn't hear a word of it when her daughter argued he was as dense as a Wilkinian fog. His father's harvest did so well this year, it's very kind of them to share their good fortune with us. Right, Aloyn nodded stiffly as she placed the bag of carrots closer. I will be sure to, mom. Time to change the subject. So, when will Uncle Rogan be here? I want to wash up before he arrives. Her mother glanced distractedly at the clock. I'm not sure, dear. Soon, though. He said he was bringing someone with him. Didn't say who. He was in a terrible hurry. You know Rogan. A mystery guest. Aloyn excused herself to her room. Her mind raced as she flung dresses onto the bed. Could this be what Uncle Rogan had mentioned? What could a guest have to do with her surprise? Regardless, she needed to be presentable. She slipped a lavender cotton dress over her head and glanced at her mirror. Thankfully, she had her mom's pretty green eyes, especially stark against her dad's black hair. She pinched her cheeks to make them flush. All right. Showtime. Just as she stepped out, there was a knock at the door. Please get that, honey. I have my hands full. Her mother was looking over several simmering pots at once. The smell of roasted chicken and biscuits made Aloyn ravenous. The plate of vegetables almost looked like a rainbow, with carrots, red and green peppers, purple onions, and red potatoes all drenched in butter. She put on her least surprised expression before she opened the door expectantly. She hated anyone catching her off guard, but it was just Uncle Rogan. She tried not to look disappointed. You look lovely, Aloyn. She squealed as he scooped her off the floor and spun. Her uncle had been doing that since she was a very little girl, and it still made her giggle. Hello, Eliza. Wow. Smells like you've done it again. Frazeek has never had a meal like this before, I'm sure. The color left both their faces. Aloyn began frantically pinching her cheeks to bring back the flush. Frazeek? Her mother spun, splattering gravy from the spoon in her hand, which she now pointed menacingly at Rogan. You invited the Mayor of Wolken to my house for dinner without any warning? She approached him, and he backed against the door, trying to deflect the gravy with his hands. Eliza, it will be fine. He's a friend, and he's very down-to-earth. He is only here to have a casual meal and meet both of you, so just relax, all right? Aloyn's mother shot him a glower. Better grab a rag and wipe this mess up. I'm getting an apron with less flour on it, and I don't want to see any splotches when I'm done. Eliza hurried to change aprons as Uncle Rogan wiped away the mess and rolled his eyes mock-annoyedly at Aloyn, whose cheeks were perfectly flush again. Aloyn, I didn't tell you before because I didn't want you to be nervous. He's here to interview you to be a scribe for this year's Element Party. The color drained from Aloyn's cheeks back down to her toes. This time, she could think of nothing but what Uncle Rogan had just said. The Element Party? It sounded like a small mouse crawled inside her mouth and squeaked out the question. The Element Party was the biggest event of the year, held in the Fire City of Bakka, the hub of all four worlds. Every famous person of any element spent most of their time there, from philosophical sky people, imaginative fire people, and mysterious water people. And amidst all of that could be her? From the Humble Arbor? But Bakka thrived all night long. And might as well. The city was encased in an enormous shell under the sea, lit by the strange glow of fire bouncing off its pearly walls. It gave the impression of always seen through a rosy haze. Every year, four young, promising citizens were chosen to represent each element and record the events of the party, which were so legendary many people only ever dreamed about attending. Everyone dressed in lavish gowns and costumes. Rumors took up every corner, entertaining crowds with extravagant songs and magic. That wasn't even the last of it, if rumors could be believed. Only those who went knew what really happened. The selected party scribes were assured a prestigious career in their chosen field. Many went on to become correspondents for high council, mediators, recorders of history. This was it. Her chance was finally here, and all she wanted to do was run to her room and hide. No, she wouldn't ruin this. What did she have to lose? As if on cue, there was a loud tap on the door. She jumped, composing her hair in cotton dress. Rogan? Her mother motioned to her uncle to open the door. As soon as it opened, a large hand with long, thin fingers appeared around the doorframe, and instepped the tallest man she had ever seen. His hair was stark silver with spiky tips that lightly brushed the ceiling. He wore a long purple cape over a robe that shone as it caught the light, as though it were made of liquid. His skin looked strange, too, almost iridescent, and his eyes seemed to change from pale blue to yellow and back as he moved about in the light. His features were delicate, almost feminine, but the total effect was pleasing, if not slightly overwhelming. Around his wrist was the standard glass bracelet all Wokinians wore, to keep their natural telepathy from invading other people's minds without permission. He smiled around the room expectantly. Frazik! So glad to have you! Rogan grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a hug that seemed to make breathing difficult. This is my brother's widow, Eliza, and her daughter, my niece, Alowyn. Alowyn curtsied as her mother blushed and shook his hand. I've left my transportation in the yard. Do you think the neighbors will mind? Something dark and huge shifted outside, blotting away the remaining daylight through the window. Alowyn peered out to see an eagle as large as a cow looking hungrily toward the chicken coop. It stretched its wings, ruffling bronze and gray feathers, and she flinched as it angled a gleaming eye into the house. If I may... Mayor Frazik reached into a row pocket and slid out a bloody flank of meat. Oh, no, heavens, mercy, no! We have animals running wild all over the farms in the arbor. They couldn't possibly mind, Alowyn's mother said nervously. Frazik opened the window and tossed the meat into the eagle's beak, then wiped his hands on a towel Uncle Rogan offered. Thank you, friend, I'll get that. He closed the window again. What an intimidating animal, Alowyn thought. She'd heard about the people of Wolken and their eccentric choice of transportation, but had never seen a giant eagle up close. Her mother clapped her hands together, bringing her back to the room. Well, I'm sure you are starving, Mayor Frazik. Does it take an awfully long time to get to the arbor from Wolken? Oh, no, no, Alowyn will take that for you. You have a seat. I'm going to fetch you a biscuit and some chicken. Her mother nodded sharply at her and she hastily grabbed the purple cloak, ushering Frazik to a chair at the head of the table. The mayor smiled curiously at her as he eased himself down. Time? No, not really, although I tend to lose track when I'm traveling. His smile now turned to a smirk. Alowyn could have sworn he winked in her direction. What have you prepared tonight? I must say the smell is overwhelming. I hadn't realized how famished I was. Well, it's nothing really, just whatever we had around the farm. Alowyn's mother shot Rogan an icy stare. If my brother-in-law had informed me we were having such an important guest, I would have made sure we had something more suitable. No need for flattery, Eliza. Frazik's curious smile seemed fixed. There is nothing so important about a mayor. I really just run the meetings. Don't tell anyone I said this, but I have loads of free time. Tirk and I spend our time just coasting the airdrafts. He chuckled and grabbed a jug of berry wine on the table.