Imperfection - Chapter Four (Patreon)

Olwen

“Commander Benjamin Sheridan is unavailable to take your call. If you would like-”

I release a huff of irritation, waving my hand over the screen. It disappears in an instant, the room slowly increasing in light as the windows reveal the natural landscape of Etherium. I quickly begin pacing around my office, my irritation at my situation growing. It’s been two weeks since the celebration at my parent’s home, and I have yet to reach my brother in Ethos.

My brother is a trained military commander, who gained his position because of his exemplary scores in strategy. We’ve always led different lives due to our testing. Benjamin followed my mother’s path while I followed our father’s, eventually exceeding his position. But Benjamin never once showed signs of jealousy. Being around him reminds me of what life could have been like for me had I not been born so emotionless. Reading him and understanding who he is as a human allows me a glimpse into the warmth and love we are capable of. And now, I won’t see him for a while.

I could especially use his company now. My father always boasted of the men who advised the king with praise. But now that I’ve had the “honor” of working next to them, I can’t fathom why my father ever felt these men were anything but self-serving narcissists. I spent my first week observing and taking notes on their styles of advising the king, and I am not impressed.

Alexander has been an advisor for fifteen years. He is a cautious man, his brain moving too fast to remain on one topic before he is getting sidetracked by another. He’s a man with a holier-than-thou attitude, trying to fix all the problems instead of seeing them for what they are. Gaius has been an advisor since the late king. His old ways of thinking show in the directions he tries to lead the king. He’s consistently suggesting solutions that revert to the old ways, instead of moving forward. I don’t see him lasting much longer in his advisory role. It’s strange to me that these men would rather listen to their emotional reasoning than the brains they’ve been given. They both are similar in the way they try and push their own agendas with the king, each having their own favor instead of being unbiased. I guess since I have arrived it will be my job to remain unbiased.

I stop pacing to focus my attention on my reflection in the mirror. Out of habit, I place my palm on the top of my hair, smoothing out the imaginary strands that are out of place. My hair is naturally a mass of wild curls that resemble the color of hazelnut. But I learned from a young age how to tame my hair by blowing out the curls until they are bone straight and slicking my strands into a tight updo or braid. Nothing about me can ever be out of place. Everything down to my appearance is calculated with a precision fit for my class. The white gown that I wear stands out against my golden brown complexion. It is a perfect mix of my parents, the freckles I inherited from my mother standing out on my high cheekbones. I also got my mother’s dark brown eyes, the color almost black in the natural light.

As I smooth out my dress, I briefly glance at the man that passes for a statue who stands in the corner, silent as always. Tiberius has yet to speak to me since the party. I don’t know if it’s because he’s just doing his job or if he’s taking what I said to him quite literally; that he has no say. He silently follows me, observes everyone around me, and bows at the end of the night after escorting me to my chambers, all without a word.

Contrary to my threat, I never spoke to Lisa Hightower about hitting him. Though it irritates me she had the nerve to do something so brazen at my parent’s home. If he says it was because he was disrespectful in trying to return to his duties, I believe him. People like Lisa Hightower enjoy the positions they are in and enjoy holding that position over individuals’ heads. Especially if they’re outsiders who owe them their lives.

I shift my attention to the notes on my desk from the day's meeting. Today’s issue centered around the problems with the newer domes. I’m certain it’s connected with why Benjamin was sent to Ethos in the first place. He’s the most qualified candidate to deal with the civil unrest unfolding among the lower classes. Even the pawns have the nerve to feel slighted about their positions.

“What was the outside like?” I ask.

I look up from my notes to see Tiberius watching me with that honey gaze. A face has never pulled my attention in the way he does. Whoever his mother is, he had to have gotten her features, all the way down to the thick lashes framing those eyes. He’s fiercely beautiful in a way I’ve never seen.

“Which part?”

I immediately latch onto his words, attempting to read the cadence and tone. But I can’t. He makes me curious in a way I haven’t been for most of my life.

“The part you came from. How did you end up not only being part of the collection but having an influential family like the Hightowers sponsor you?” I ask.

“It wasn’t as bad as people think. We had community, homes; a life. It’s not as pristine and elaborate as Etherium, but we made it work.”

I scoff at his words. They are the words of someone whose only known suffering. Of course, he would think his life wasn’t bad. He never experienced anything outside of it until coming here.

“If it was so great, why did you decide to enter the annual collection?” I ask.

“I had tested for it and my mother passed away. It was my only option.”

I watch him carefully as he speaks. His words are precise. But his body language and his tone give me no indication that he is lying. I don’t see why he would lie about something so simple, but I also don’t know why he wouldn’t want me to reprimand Lisa for what she did. He’s a mystery and he doesn’t like speaking about his past.

“Did you ever hear about the other domes while you were on the outside?” I ask.

“It was so long ago-”

“Try to remember.” I don’t bother hiding the irritation in my voice. I hate dealing with people who lack in ability. I can remember everything from my childhood, no matter how far. I can even remember what I wore on the first day of school in fifth grade and what I had for lunch on a random day in September. But people like Tiberius aren’t born with that ability which slows me down.

“Etherium and Empyrium were the domes to test for. But it is more likely to get into the newer domes. The older domes don’t pull from the outside as much anymore while the newer domes pull from even my region, even though they are so far,” he says simply.

“Hm.”

I don’t give off that he’s just solved the problem the king is having as I shuffle the papers together. I pause for a moment, looking at him. He’s watching me with that blank expression, studying my motions as I do his. I've learned to overlook his glares as him just doing his job to protect me. But the longer I study him, the more it seems like he isn't just watching over me. It seems like he's watching me. 

“Is there a reason you didn’t want me to speak to Lisa?” I ask as I gather the papers in my hands.

“At the time I felt that I was in the wrong. I did not think of how it reflected on you, and I apologize for that.” He adds to his apology by lowering his head. I ignore him, walking to the door of my office, my interest no longer held by him.

“Come. We’re off to see the king.”

* * * * *

“It’s the annual collection.”

Silence overcomes the room as the king studies me, then looks past me to the screen where I have uploaded all the information on. It takes him a moment to fully understand what it is I am speaking of, but he finally catches on.

“You think the civil unrest is being caused by the annual collection, and not because we are lacking in officials?”

“With all due respect, your majesty. I don’t think, I know.”

I make my way to the screen, pointing out the columns that have each dome and its corresponding information within it. The list is arranged with newer domes in one column and older domes in another.

“Ether and Ethos have only been established for thirty years combined. Ethos itself has only existed for eight. When we construct the newer domes, due to the class system we only send a select number of Etherians to each, to begin establishing it. We are not, however, changing the number of outsiders we bring in from the annual collection.”

“That is because we need the manpower for the dome to run like our own. We cannot have it functioning as less than.”

I turn towards the door to see Gaius walking in with a smug expression on his face at having caught me in a private meeting with the king. I’m sure Alexander isn’t far behind. One of the servants must have let it be known that I entered into a meeting with the king urgently, and now the sharks are circling.

I’ve watched the patterns of Gaius and Alexander. And I know how each of them attempts to undermine the other in an attempt to win the king’s favor and have their form of control over Etherium. And I know exactly how Gaius is going to attempt to go against my plan. Unlike Tiberius, I can read these men easily.

“I know you are new at this, Olwen. But you must have learned our values in elementary school. Etherium is the pinnacle of a perfect society. When we decided to establish our new domes, it was because we decided to expand our ways. That is why we continue to pull the larger numbers from the collections.”

“I am aware, Gaius. But unlike Ethos and Ether, our dome has existed for over three hundred years. In that time, we created a system where Etherians outnumber outsiders 25:1. And when we established Empyrium and Elysium, we waited for both to begin annual collections. That isn’t the case for the newer domes. And what you are not understanding is that our society isn’t the only one that exists.”

“What are you saying?” the king asks just as Alexander enters the room with his entourage.

I turn to face the king, ignoring the men who will be fighting against me even though we are supposed to work together.

“While we have had three hundred years to perfect our world, the outsiders have had just as much time to form their own. It may be a way of life we do not deem as fit for living, but to them it is. They have memories of their homes, they have communities, and cultures. And they are entering the newer domes, not with the mindset their ancestors had, but with whatever their new world is teaching them. The collection is the problem.”

Alexander now chuckles as he walks to the screen, eyeing my work.

“How can we ensure the dome has the same success if the labor number doesn’t match our own? They would be behind in establishment by at least fifty years,” Alexander pipes up.

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing? The whole reason we were able to succeed in the first place is that we originally waited almost eighty years to allow the outside world in. We were patient. But you are wanting us to be impatient, which is where this turmoil is coming from.”

No one rebuttals, so I continue.

“The process was tedious but it allowed the outside world to see just how bad off they are without people like us to lead them. Just because we are better does not mean outsiders cannot change within three-hundred years. They have resources and somewhat functioning societies themselves. They won’t be foolish enough to try and enter an established dome with values and traditions in place for years. Not when they can enter a new one and mingle their own values within it.”

I turn to face the king.

“Are you aware these domes are pulling from regions outside of their jurisdiction? They are desperate and the outside knows it.”

“How can you even be sure of such an accusation,” Gaius growls.

I laugh, my amusement overcoming my irritation.

“That is how you wish to respond?” I ask. Gaius’s old face has turned red from his frustration, but Alexander knows he has been beaten. He doesn’t speak. I turn away from the men to face the king.

“We are not obligated to the outside world. We left it because it was corrupt and failing. If we allow them to believe they are part of our world in any capacity, they will forget where they come from. We have given them time to regrow and form new ideals and hostilities and we continue to allow them within our walls as if things are the same as they once were. They are not. They see us as desperate. They should not be a requirement in establishing a new dome. They did not matter when our ancestors established Etherium, and they should not matter now.”

The room is silent as the king thinks about my words.

“Then what do you propose?”

“I believe we should shut down the annual collections.”

The king tenses at my words, whipping his head in my direction.

“The annual collection has been a tradition of Etherium for generations. It is not only how we keep contact with the outside, but it is also how we continue to keep our society functioning. Everyone within it has a purpose, Olwen.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the king’s response. He has always been like this; much more empathetic than his father.

“If you feel it will damage the traditions of Etherium that much, we can at least spread the collections. Instead of doing them yearly, we can stretch them to every three to five years. And in between, we can transfer our own pawns to fill in. But it’s an imprudent decision to continue to allow this when we are aware of the consequence.”

The king thinks about my suggestion, and just as I suspect, he doesn’t know which route to take that will not incur consequences. It is why he will go with the less cruel option, following his “gut” feeling as opposed to common sense. He gestures to Gaius as he comes to a decision.

“Have the high council draft a plan for implementing a new form of the annual collection. I want to see all the facts before I come to a decision. Also, notify Ether and Ethos that they will no longer host annual collections until further notice.”

* * * * *

I release a huff of irritation as I exit the room. Once again two men's ambitions got in the way of actually making a difference in our society. To my dismay, Tiberius stands silently against the wall, his attention shifting to me as I exit.

“Olwen.”

I turn to see Alexander and Gaius coming toward me with angry expressions.

“Do you realize what you have done?” Gaius hisses, stepping into my personal space.

“Etherium and everything in it is a symbol of perfection! You have tainted it by changing a tradition and making us appear weak!”

“We already look weak. That is why there are problems in those domes. Altering the collection doesn’t-”

“You know nothing of traditions you ignorant child. Just because the king has placed you in this position, does not mean you should be in it. There are decisions that should be made with keeping in mind the monarchy.”

“I know that. Do you not know why I am here? My mind can calculate every possible outcome, even the egotistic nonsense you are spouting, but I do not stand behind it because I know exactly how successful it will be. Even the solution you have yet to come up with, I have already thought of it and then some. That is the difference between you and me.”

Gaius’s face shifts and he takes a threatening step toward me.

“Why you-”

Tiberius is by my side in an instant, his arm pressed against the shoulder of the old man as he steps between me and the advisors. His muscles are tense, his face shifts in anger as he looks at the men. He grips Gaius roughly, his arm squeezing as he speaks.

“Back off.”

Tension rips through the air as his unspoken threat lingers between us. His heavy aura washes over each of us, and each of the men around doesn't want to bother with challenging him. Not even their bodyguards. Gaius looks between me and Tiberius before roughly pulling away and smoothing out his clothes. He glares at Tiberius before huffing away in anger. Alexander takes the opportunity to speak, but Tiberius remains between us, a solid wall of protection.

“A little word of advice, Olwen. You may be the smartest person in the room, but that doesn’t mean you always know what’s best for this society.” He glares at me for as long as he can before shirking away, his own entourage in tow. We both watch as Alexander walks away, attempting to keep his dignity about him. To my shock, Tiberius turns to face me. His expression is softening for the first time as he looks me over.

“Are you okay?”

His words are gentle, striking something in my chest that emits an emotional reaction. But I don’t give in to it. I immediately dismiss it and him, turning away from him to head to my quarters.

“Let’s go.”