Authors: Megan Thomason
I put on the gown. I’d swear it is spun of real gold. Diamond-like gems cover the tight bodice. The skirt’s full and imitates flowers and leaves delicately laced together. It fits me perfectly, as though a master craftsman had created it just for me. I feel like a princess about to be crowned queen. Queen in an evil regime, that is.
A kind older lady joins me to do my makeup and hair. When finished I look like the royalty the Therans claim I am, jeweled gold tiara and all. I stare at myself in the mirror. Despite being masked with beauty, this isn’t at all how I’d imagined my wedding day as a child. I’m without family or friends. Didn’t get to pick my gown, nor is it white to reflect my virtue. The identity of my groom’s a secret. There will be no fancy reception.
Forget expectations. Forget what the Ten think they’ll be dictating for me tonight. The gown is gorgeous and well beyond anything I’d be able to afford. My Cleave will be my family—with my enthusiasm for that being either real or faked, depending on who they pick. And I don’t need a big reception. I can do this. I signal that I’m ready to proceed. I put on my happy face. No one will know the truth. Everyone will think that it’s the happiest night of my life.
The guards lead me through a series of passageways and tunnels. Blake told me that Cleaving ceremonies were held in the atrium of Headquarters, but given the massacre that happened there and the destroyed glass mosaic, they must have moved the location.
“Please wait here for your escort,” one of the guards says. I nod. We’re at a large carved wooden doorway, an anomaly on Thera given the lack of trees. It’s stunning, with each of a dozen panels displaying a hand-etched garden scene. After marveling at the craftsmanship on the door, I shift nervously as I await my Cleaving and then I start to pace. What did Blake decide and who did the Ten pick?
I care about both Blake and Ethan. They’re both gorgeous, smart and love me. I’m attracted to both.
Considering I will spend a lifetime with my Cleave, I start to ask myself a series of questions. Who will be more honest? The better father? Be more reliable? More fun? Make me laugh? Who’ll be more stable? Exciting? Put me first? Us first? Family first? Who’ll make me smile when times get tough, which they are bound to? Who will still give me butterflies when we’re both old and wrinkly? Which one can look past my flaws? Which one’s flaws can I look past? Who’ll know what I need and when I need it even before I do? Who has the most substance? Who will I have the most to talk to about? Who’s his own man and not a puppet to those around him? Who do I love most? Because, I realize, I do love them both. Unquestionably.
I see Vienna Darcton round the corner to join me.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” she says. “You
will
be pleased with both your Cleave and your Cleaving ceremony. I’ve brought the perfect escort to bring you in. It’ll just be another moment.” I bite my lip, hoping she’s right and disturbed that she just commanded me to be pleased with her selection. The sinking feeling grows. Everything else has gone wrong, so I expect this to as well. In my panic, I can’t as much as mutter a reply. Vienna disappears through the door without allowing me so much as a peek inside.
The tears freely flow as my ‘escort’ arrives. He looks confused as to why I’d be crying, but I can’t help it. The security guard gives him instructions as to how to walk me into the room.
“Well, pretty lady,” my father says, looking healthy, happy and quite alive in a dashing suit with a gold vest. “I guess I’m the lucky guy that gets to take you to meet your Cleave.”
“Thank you. I’d like that so much,” I say as I wipe my tears. I can’t believe Vienna Darcton brought my father here for me. His presence calms my nerves, despite opening a previous wound I’d prefer not remember. Who am I kidding? Remembering what happened to my family at my hands was bound to happen on this night. I slough off the guilt, knowing I must press forward, plastering back on a smile, just as my mother taught me to do.
The security guard opens the door and we’re flooded with light as we enter the most spectacular football stadium-sized garden I’ve ever seen, one I imagine to be like my ancestors enjoyed, and what I assume the artisans portrayed in the Headquarter’s atrium mosaic and on the garden doors. Even though it’s the middle of the night, the light looks as natural as sunlight, the ceiling like daytime sky—sunny with a smattering of clouds. Chairs have been set up on a central lawn and my schoolmates and my children’s surrogate parents are all seated, including my own brother and his Cleave, Leila, and my mother who looks more alive on Thera than she did on Earth. The only thing detracting from perfection is the armed security detail circling the garden.
My father and I walk along sparkling gold stones towards an altar built of stone and I take in the scenery of majestic trees and fragrant flowers of every variety. No groom awaits me, but I see Vienna Darcton motioning someone to come down another path to join us. When I see who it is, I have the epiphany I’ve been waiting for. I do love both Ethan and Blake—as much as I really know either of them—but I’m not ready to Cleave either of them. Blake and my relationship has been mired with lies, deceit, and plans beyond our control. Ethan and I have never even had the opportunity to have a real relationship. It looks, however, like I’m going to have that chance.
Ethan’s the one walking towards me. The Ten chose him to be my Cleave and if I’m going to be forced into a relationship I’m not ready for, I can’t say I’m disappointed.
Ethan’s devoted, ready to settle down, and wants to have a long and happy life with me. I’ve been attracted to him from the moment I met him and still get butterflies when he’s near and shockwaves when he touches me. He caters to my every whim and will listen to me talk for hours. We have fun and he makes me laugh. I feel at home when I’m in his arms.
Ethan’s positive characteristics don’t erase my concerns or give me the illusion that it’ll be a ‘happily ever after’ without any work. Ethan’s never really opened up. I’ve asked him on multiple occasions to tell me about his childhood, but he has avoided the subject and makes me wonder what’s he hiding. I don’t know what makes him tick, what he likes or cares about, or what motivates him. Other than me.
An example—Ethan lived with his Uncle Henry when he moved to Earth. Uncle Henry’s been his ‘mentor.’ But, Uncle Henry is Senator Henry King, presidential frontrunner. Not only did Ethan never mention this, but I have no idea what Ethan thinks about being forced into politics. Between his parents’ and uncle’s influence, I don’t know whether Ethan’s been brainwashed to the point of no return. I’ll never be able to fully trust him until he shares his deepest, darkest secrets and thoughts with me.
My biggest fear with regards to Ethan is that he’s like the most glorious shell in the sea, but when I look inside the shell is hollow. Or perhaps worse, that his shell is filled with a standard-issue, Ten-approved, Original-blooded clone of the SCI ideal for a human being.
To have the kind of love where I want to be intimate—to give my Cleave everything I have to offer? I need him to bare his heart and soul. Maybe given time we can get there. But I know the Cleaving rules and time’s not something we’re allowed. I dated Tristan for a full year and never slept with him. So consummating the whole Cleaving thing? Too much, too soon.
I’m not sure I’ll ever completely get over Blake. He’s made a lot of mistakes. Lied to me. Deceived me. Kept things from me. I realize it’s all been to either protect me or to further the Exiler’s cause. He cares infinitely more about others than he does about himself and I find that amazing. Blake’s exactly what he represents himself to be, flaws and all.
Bottom line—for my sanity, I need to give Ethan my heart and trust that the rest will work out. But, I’m also going to continue to try to figure out a way to take down the SCI, even without Blake’s help. Fact is, Blake exercised his choice and he didn’t choose me. He chose to leave. He didn’t trust me to help him get the job done. So, while he’s off with the Exilers, far away from the mega-portal, I’ll be here, working on a plan from the inside.
Ethan and I arrive at the altar at the same time and embrace.
“I love you, Kira Donovan,” he says, stroking my face and pushing a ringlet aside. “You are, and have been since the moment we met, the only girl for me.” He looks incredible dressed in a gold suit with diamond-studded tie to match my bodice.
“And I love you, Ethan Darcton,” I say. Joy washes over his face as he hears me tell him I love him. With that one simple statement I’ve lifted his burdens and worry.
We hurriedly sign the paperwork and then Vienna Darcton announces us as the Mother and Father of New Thera. And then we kiss to loud applause and in that moment, I feel at peace.
We celebrate for hours
in the garden and the more time I spend here, the more magical it feels. The garden itself covers twenty acres, per Vienna, and is irrigated by an underground spring that has thousands of tributaries to this garden area, acting as a naturally occurring drip system. I’m astounded by the variety of species of plants and flowers, over twenty thousand, all unique to Thera, in every color of the rainbow. Even the grass area is naturally occurring and has more than a hundred types of grass creating an optical illusion of an image I can’t figure out close up and with so many people on it. The fragrance is sweeter and more divine than anything I’ve ever smelled before.
Ethan steals many moments with me in various secluded spots of the garden. For the first time with him, I don’t hold back and I feel longing and desire I never knew I had. I wish I could build a hut on the grass area and live here forever, raising a whole host of children that I birth myself. This place could make me forget about the Ten, the Grand Council, the desert canyons, and cruel undertone of Thera.
I do enjoy the party. Vienna provides a delicious banquet for the guests full of Theran delicacies, my favorite of which is the marinated quellfish, a tube-shaped shellfish caught off shore that tastes like lobster with the texture of a scallop. Some of the girls are having problems with evening sickness so don’t partake, but it is still fabulous to spend the time with my friends and family, even those who don’t remember me. Tristan and Briella avoid me for a chunk of the time, but finally come to offer their congratulations, perhaps since Ethan left to get us something to drink.
“You got a way cooler Cleaving ceremony than we did,” Tristan says. Still competing. “That is a stunning dress.”
“We’re very happy for you is what Tristan means to say,” Briella pipes in. “But I’m a little confused. Where’s Blake? How’d you end up Cleaved to Ethan?”
“Blake’s gone,” I say, trying not to let my voice crack over it. “And Ethan’s great. I love him. It’s all good.”
“Where’d Blake go?” Tristan asks. “And why doesn’t anyone ever say goodbye when they leave?”
“He left the city,” I say. “And I’m sorry he didn’t say goodbye. He must not have had the chance.” I didn’t get a goodbye either, I think, so once he made his decision, they probably didn’t give him that option. Or they did and he chose not to take it and have to explain himself. I just can’t talk about Blake any more on my Cleaving day. It’s still too fresh and raw.
“Speaking of leaving the city,” Vienna Darcton says, inserting herself into our conversation. “I have an important announcement to make. Everyone gather around.” She’s wired with a microphone and starts to speak.
“Thanks to everyone for joining us on this momentous occasion where we’ve witnessed the Cleaving of two pure blooded descendants of the Originals. As in the beginning, Dark and Light have been reunited in the same sacred garden at the very altar their ancestors Cleaved,” she says, letting the tidbit soak in. A great fable, but I’m not buying that the garden has been here for thousands of years. Given the extreme weather on Thera, how’d they keep the garden alive before they had the technology available to preserve it? How can they prove that the altar was the same one used by the Originals, assuming the Originals even existed as the story was passed down?
“You young Cleaved couples are lucky in that you’re carrying Original seed in you, and like any seed, room must be given to grow and flourish. The Original seed must be spread forth across Theran soil. Each couple will henceforth be transferred to another glorious Theran city this night. I compel you to raise these children with great care to be Thera’s future leaders. You’ll be escorted directly from here to your ships. I wish you great speed and health on your journeys. Please say your farewells and then proceed to the far door where you’ll check in and be assigned an escort.”
Now that gets a reaction from the crowd as the news takes hold. They’re all leaving and being dispersed to different Theran cities, cities they probably didn’t even know existed. They line up to say their farewells to me and each other, and promise they’ll raise my children well. Ethan holds me upright as I watch my unborn children slip away.
The hardest partings are with Briella and Tristan, who once again hold no memories of our collective past, and with my brother and Leila. I make promises I’ll likely never be able to keep about seeing them again.
“It’s all good, big sis,” Jared says to me in my ear as he hugs me tight.
“Yeah, it’s all good,” I respond.
The teary farewells behind us,
everyone dispersed to the far ends of Thera, Ethan and I return to his home in bright sunlight. Some rather risqué lingerie has been laid out for me on the bed, I’m sure to encourage us to consummate our Cleaving as quickly as possible. How’d this happen again? I’m not even eighteen and I’m Cleaved to a guy I love, but who’ll have to leave for his third year of law school shortly after we consummate the deal. I’m terrified.
“We should wait to do this,” Ethan says to me, reading my mind. “In fact, my mother insists. She waived the decree for immediate consummation. Our Cleave will stand whether we do or not. She thought we… or you… might need some time to digest everything that’s happened and be ready.” Maybe my Cleave-in-law’s not as bad as I thought. I try not to let my relief be too apparent.