Of Gears and Humanity

| 07.1

[ELENA]

Tucking the journal away in a safe place in my room did not make sleep come easily. The safety should have put me at ease. Instead, as I tossed and turned all night until morning broke through my window, my mind drifted towards the boy at the wrong side of the world. Even as I lugged myself to the dining hall for breakfast, pretended to listen to the gossip from the castle maids, I couldn't take my thoughts away from him.

Why was he on the opposite side? All humans, all living descendants of the Lorian tribe and their warriors, found safety and peace opposite the Gate. Opposite the monstrous machines who nearly destroyed our planet. I was always told that no person could survive in their atmosphere; the toxins and chemicals from their dictator machines polluted the air. Humans perished with the Attributions. Humans did well on their own.

Yet, there was a boy on their side.

Walking through the castle courtyard, I slid my hands over the rose bushes my mother had planted when I was born. I remembered always being told how she desired beauty to be everywhere, in every way, because the other side of the world had none. Even in her journal entries, she shared numerous times, how she wished the natural glory of Earth could pass the Gate and touch the shadows on the other side. To give them happiness and joy.

With the petals tickling my fingertips, I wondered if the boy had ever seen a flower in his life. And if he had, did it make him happy?

"Elena."

At the sound of my father's, I slowed my steps but kept my hand outstretched, touching the flowers. With my gaze at the horizon, it was the first time all morning I was able to relax, even if my mind still wandered to the night before.

But my father stood beside me, his presence demanding attention. His clothes matched mine, and I wondered if what could have been a coincidence was intentional. The red of his embroidered blouse matched that of my spring dress. I wished to match the garden that morning. I wondered of his intent.

Giving him my full attention, I nodded, moved my hands in front of me, and gave my father a polite bow. "Papa," I said, closing my eyes, "good morning."

"Good morning, Elena." My father also stood tall, proud. His beard had been neatly shaven, trimmed closest to his face. This meant he was preparing for the tour in the coming weeks; he would begin to strip away the horrors of the month before to begin anew. I hadn't thought much time had passed. But he had been gone for my birthday. The last tour was the very reason my coronation had been delayed and out of order.

Sometimes I saw the apology in my father's eyes. Even now, as his smile weakened with the beaming sun, rather than grow. He extended a hand to me and I gently placed mine on top of it. He nodded. "It is good to see you're feeling better today," he said. "I was worried."

My finger slowly wrapped around his as he guided me through the garden. Together we walked the graveled path, passing the roses and tulips. The small insects bustled around the cherry bushes in search of sugary nectars. I caught sight of one, buzzing and hovering over a small ripened fruit. I smiled at it as my father led me to turn around the garden's corner.

"You're out for a walk, so you truly must be better."

I shot my father a smile as I nodded. "I am well," I said. "There was no need to worry. I told you it was the stress of this all."

"Of it all." My father slowly nodded his head. "The coronation?"

"Yes," I said, honestly. Well, half honestly. I was nervous about becoming queen. What royal wouldn't be anxious over a crown being placed on their head? But my nervousness also stemmed from the need to feel worthy, to feel needed. And I thought I nearly failed and ruined it all.