Prophecy of a Glass Heart

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

At least not that the humans knew. It wasn’t until the first dragon, Cleos, was discovered two centuries after the world, Avardis’s, creation that they were believed to be fantasy. Even more time passed before they were accepted into society, and yet still, they suffered from human fear.

Noelia had learned the history as most her age did, and even after seeing depictions of the dragon’s large teeth and how they could live beneath seemingly human flesh like parasites—her professor’s words, not hers—she still believed her heart to be the most frightening thing in existence.

Made of glass, holding a world-ending curse within its walls, her heart was more volatile and deadly than any beast could be.

In fact, Noelia’s best friend and the head of her guard was a dragon. Arthur was a Veier dragon, a descendant of the Vei race, which had, at one time, been one of the most powerful dragon races to ever exist. However, standing in her tiny room at the top of one of the castle’s turrets as she readied for the patronage ceremony, Arthur appeared no less human than her, with a helmet of brown curls, hard eyes the color of the golden coin around her throat, and sun-warmed skin she always found herself longing to touch.

"Should I go with the cream or the blue?" She asked him, holding up two of her ceremony gowns for him to see.

He rolled his eyes from his position at her door and, without looking, said, "Why should what I think matter?"

"Considering that Anya isn’t here to help me decide and that I can’t decide myself, your opinion matters greatly."

She glanced into her floor-length mirror once more, trying to decide. Truly, it didn’t matter at all which dress she wore. She could go naked and still be worshiped. But choosing something as small as her outfit was her taking back some control. Having the ability to choose things, from her clothes to what she wished to eat, meant she still held some semblance of agency over herself. Arthur knew this well as a guardian of her heart in the literal sense and of Avardis, so no matter how silly these small things were to him, he always obliged her.

With a great sigh, he turned his critical gaze upon the dresses in her hands and said, "The cream. It brings out your eyes."

Noelia turned away before he could see the heat rise in her face. "What does that matter?" She muttered. The pale lace would set off her otherworldly eyes; dove and charcoal gray, but instead of flat color, they moved and shifted like writhing smoke. They were anomalies. Even in a magic-drenched world like Avardis, no one had eyes like hers. Because of this, and because of the already dreadful prophecy held over her head, she was forced to cover her eyes whenever in the public eye or else risk raising more fear around her.

The prophecy foretold of a girl with a glass heart holding a power unlike any have ever seen. However, there were two versions of this prophecy. Irus’s version, the god of miracles and deceptions, claimed that the power that was encased inside would save Avardis. The other version, told by the goddess Tomis of beginnings, said the power held inside would bring crashing waves of darkness down upon Avardis that would devour everything living on it until they were no more.

Seeing as how Irus’s version would require some great threat to already be in place against Avardis, it didn’t feel believable. As well, Tomis was the country of Varisa’s patron god, so Noelia was held in the most secure kingdom in all of Varisa until the end of her life, when she and her power were believed to fade quietly.

"Noelia," Arthur’s low voice brought her back to the present, "are you alright?"

She sent him a gentle smile and said, "Yes, I was just thinking over my proposition."

He inhaled a sharp breath and nodded, "Right. Good."

She was planning to make her first official request as Varisa’s patron saint that night to the council. To change the laws, tearing dragon children from their human families and forcing them into labor in the service of the kingdom.

"It will work," she said softly.

"I know," he said, though his eyes didn’t match his smile. She knew he was nervous. If it failed, it meant he and other dragons would continue to live out their days never knowing their families.

Noelia watched as he ran a shaking hand through his locks before excusing himself, and as the door shut, she felt a sharp tug in her chest.

***

Less than an hour later, Noelia sat in her golden ornate throne in the great room, surrounded by commoners who praised her for her sacrifice and bestowed gifts at her feet.

The dress she wore fell to her ankles in a skirt of cream satin and lace, with a pale pink ribbon tied at her waist. The bodice was snug with a feminine curve to the neckline that left the smooth, pale skin of her decolletage and arms bare. She’d curled and twisted her autumn orange hair up on top of her head with a matching ribbon, letting stray locks fall around her cheekbones, which she’d lightly dusted in gold.

Voices surrounded her, echoing off of the room’s white marble walls, and Noelia’s only tell that someone was approaching were the soft taps of their footsteps and the crinkle of fabric as they knelt. She couldn’t see through the cream fabric tied across her eyes.

Some people of Varsia believed that she hid her eyes out of humility; others believed that if she didn’t wear it, then she’d fall in love with the first person she laid eyes upon. It was an old superstition that the person she fell in love with would inevitably shatter her heart and release the curse. No one understood just how much the council believed in superstitions, though, having battered their rules into her brain since she was a mere child.

No friends, no family, no lovers.

It was their belief that if she didn’t love anyone, then she wouldn’t experience the heartache of loss.

As much as she despised the thought, it seemed the superstitions were half right, as the first man she’d laid her eyes on, she’d fallen for.

A blush warmed her cheeks beyond her control as Arthur’s face floated across her mind. Thankfully, the heat from the sun that poured through the massive domed skylight covered it with a flush. She fought the urge to tear off the eye mask whose lace sat itching at her brows, and instead forced herself to focus on the requests the guests made that she already knew she couldn’t fulfill.

Finally, it was time for the feast, and Noelia was thankfully freed from the guests by her circle of guards, who guided her to a table placed in the center of the room. If any part of the patronage ceremonies she enjoyed, it was this: sitting in the perfect spot to listen to the town’s gossip. Despite how much everyone tried to avoid her hearing, she still did.

Noelia bit into a savory slice of roasted chicken and let her ears travel the room. At first, most of what she heard were the same complaints that had been brought to her feet: soil turning infertile, animals dropping dead with no clear reason, and bellies thinning from Dasa Drana’s tight trade laws. However, she finally picked out something of interest.

"They say he’s returned," a woman said, breath slightly pitched in barely quenched fear.

"Who?" A man asked.

"Lorrse." Gasps rose at the woman’s muttered word, and if Noelia could see, she’d bet those at her table were blessing themselves. The word was Old Avardis for corpse, or death-walker.

Noelia knew, as well as anyone, though, that it wasn’t the word itself that was terrifying, it was the man behind it. Lorrse was believed by some to be a cursed name, that speaking it aloud would bring his dark presence down upon you and your family. Apparently, though, this woman didn’t believe in that.

"Zela," the man hissed, "why would you speak that name so casually? And under the roof of Saint Noelia of all places!"

"Forgive me," the woman breathed, her very syllables shaking from the fevor of her fear. "I did not mean any harm. It is only that I’m afraid. Everyone in my village is. The baker’s wife claimed she saw his shadows roll through her husband's field in stark daylight like smoke, and by nightfall, the crops were dead. The metal welder wakes to find his figure hovering over him, but within a blink, the figure is gone. And I-" her words broke off with a barely leashed sob.

"Zela," the man said again, softer this time, "what horror have you experienced?"

A sniffle. "I have dreams. Horrible dreams of a handsome stranger who promises me everything. He shows me images of a life not yet lived, of all my dreams coming to fruition, and says he will make them come true if only I tell him where the girl is."

"A girl? What girl?" Another woman asked.

"I don’t know. He only says he’s looking for her, that she has something he needs, but even he does not know her name. All he knows is that she-"

A tinkling chime rose through the room, cutting the woman off abruptly and ruining all chances of Noelia hearing the rest of her tale. It was time for Noelia’s least favorite part of the evening. Prayers.

Arthur led her up to the dias, her hand on his arm, where she stood before them all, the council included, and listened as council head Drova led everyone through an hour-long prayer. Prayers for the goddess Tomis to continue bestowing her blessings upon them all, for the goddess to continue to shine through Noelia, and for Noelia’s courageous sacrifice of submitting herself to a life of solitude for the safety of Avardis.

The ritual was a bit more bearable tonight as her mind spun with all the woman’s gossip. From what it sounded, Lorrse was on the hunt for a mysterious girl who had something of his. No one had heard anything about Lorrse since the god Nos trapped him in the Deep, a place that only those with strong stomachs could handle studying. Because of how horrific the Deep was, Noelia had been forbidden from learning anything about it since the time she could walk.

Somehow, though, Lorrse had escaped and was in Varsia, and goddess knows what that meant for them.

Once the prayers were complete, all of the guests were escorted out into the gardens for the party. Since Noelia could not attend, she knew now was her only time to speak to the council about her proposition.

"Get great rest, Noelia," Drova said, already walking towards the garden.

"Wait," Noelia called, a bit too loudly. After a beat of silence where she could only assume Drova paused to listen, she straightened and said, "I have a request to make of the council."

A ripple of shock ran its course through the four counselors, but abruptly the room silenced once more, and Noelia imagined Drova’s slender brown hand raising in a quiet gesture for order. In her usual cutthroat tone, she said, "Please, do tell."

Taking a steadying breath and trying not to feel the weight of Arthur’s gaze from his stance mere feet away, she recalled the speech she’d been preparing for days. "I want to discuss our country’s treatment of the dragons. I know their existence is one of controversy and that many still fear them. I know this and understand. However, I ask that we strike the law that tears dragons from their families and forces them into service."

"You wish to rid of a service that benefits our kingdom greatly?" Drova asked, voice carefully even.

Noelia had prepared for that question. "Does forced servitude truly benefit our people when over half of those people are dragons or kin to them? If we were to allow dragons to remain with their families, human or not, and to give them the freedom of choice the rest of our people benefit from then-"

"Forgive me, Noelia," Drova interrupted, "but this discussion is beyond your scope of power."

"I disagree. As patron saint, I feel it is my duty to fight for the rights of our people and-"

"Noelia-"

"And," she said, helpless frustration breaking through her serene exterior, "I have not made a single request since becoming Varsia’s patron saint. This is all I ask of you, council head Drova. Please, grant me this one request."

Heavy silence filled the room, and Noelia’s fear spiked. She held her breath, praying fervently that Drova would listen. Noelia had never had any say to her life or what became of it. Her great sacrifice that the people thanked her for wasn’t one she’d chosen for herself. It had been forced upon her. So, surely, the council could grant this single request.

Drova’s voice slashed through the quiet like a whip, "I agree, Noelia, you have not asked anything of us and we are very grateful to you for your selflessness. However, the matter of the dragons is simply more volatile than you know, and to change a law like that would only cause an uproar and strike fear and distrust of the council in the people's hearts. I apologize, but the council is going to have to decline your request."

"But-"

"This isn’t up for discussion. Arthur, escort our saint to her tower."

No, Noelia thought, already surging forward with more protest when a warm hand touched her arm. "Come on," Arthur’s voice came at her side and she nearly crumpled at his emotionless tone.

Dejected, she allowed her guard to guide her to her tower. Once there, she tore off the eye mask and turned just in time to stop Arthur from closing the doors. "Arthur, I’m so sor-"

"Don’t," he said, refusing to meet her gaze. "You did what you could. I was a fool to believe there would be an easy way to accomplish this." Giving her a stiff nod, he said, "Rest well, Noelia."

The moment the doors shut, she threw the mask down and squeezed her eyes shut. Her frustration was building, the heat growing in her chest. She knew this feeling. Knew how dangerous it was. Noelia couldn’t let her emotions overwhelm her, or else she’d risk putting too much pressure on her heart.

But it was hard when she was smacked with the realization of how little say she had. It wasn’t something she ever forgot, and yet, every reminder left her breathless. Like a hand clamping around her chest and squeezing unbearably tight.

She was Varisa’s patron saint, but no matter how much power the commoners believed she held, she was no more than a symbol of the council’s strength. Of Tomis’ blessings.

Fighting to calm her raging emotions, Noelia plopped down at her window seat and shoved open the glass. Resting her head on her hands, she watched as the guests danced beneath the moonlight to the orchestra’s melodies.

Anya twirled with her wife, long black hair and tan skin glowing beneath the fire globes. Her smile was blinding. Noelia had always been envious of her friend. Had watched Anya train, fight, and sweat under the sun day after day, imagining that it was her moving her body so freely.

Reaching out her hand, pink polish paling in the moonlight, Noelia grabbed the mirror hooked onto her tower’s ledge. It was a small circular thing, the gold frame cool beneath her touch as she angled it on its stand to reflect the beast perched on her tower’s roof.

Arthur lay along the tiles in his dragon form, black scales glinting and golden eyes gleaming. His body was long and serpentine, tail curled around it as his eyes scanned the party.

Even in this form, Noelia could see the sadness and frustration lining his gaze, and her chest ached. She’d keep pushing, keep fighting. Surely she’d get through Drova somehow. It wasn’t right how the dragons were being treated. How Arthur guarded her tower day and night but was never allowed to visit his own mother, to watch his little brother grow into a man.

With a sigh, she rested her head on her arm and stared out into the night. Before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep, dreaming of shadow fingers reaching for her.

***

The second Noelia woke, she knew something was wrong.

Footsteps pounded across the floor and straight for her. Before she could cry out, a cloth was clamped over her nose. She panicked, and sank her teeth into the hand holding the cloth.

A sharp, distinctly male, hiss and the hand vanished. Noelia flung herself towards the window and cried out Arthur’s name, just as they’d practiced. But her attacker recovered quickly and snatched her before she could cross the ledge. Strong arms wrestled her back against a solid chest, and the cloth covered her nose once more.

Noelia caught sight of the window’s mirror just before the sharp chemical scent of the cloth turned her world to darkness once more.

Arthur’s perch was vacant.

***

When Noelia came to once more, it was to the bittersweet taste of cloyelia lining her teeth. She was propped up against someone, hands bound behind her back, being guided through a forest. Shock rippled behind the drug’s dulling veil on her mind as she felt the cool grass blades beneath her feet. Noelia couldn’t feel the autumn’s chill, nor her own tongue, but somehow she could feel the foreign sensation of grass under her.

Her entire body felt numb and too heavy, but she fought to keep her eyes open, to break through the drug’s haze to focus on her surroundings. Whoever had taken her had access to the castle’s herbs. Cloyelia was a drug she was very familiar with. The council had used it on her many times throughout her adolescence whenever her emotions had gotten the best of her. She knew the herb’s green stem and purple head like the back of her hand.

But how had someone kidnapped her from inside the castle? Where had her guard been?

Something stabbed into her foot and she groaned, her head lolling back.

The arm around her shifted to accommodate her weight more comfortably, and a horribly familiar voice murmured, "I’m so sorry, Noelia. Please know that I had no other choice."

At the sound of Arthur’s deep tenor, a large hole was punctured through the fog in her mind, and suddenly she felt the night’s chill deep in her bones. "No." The word tumbled from her numb lips before she could stop it, tremulous and messy.

It was then that they broke through the trees into a wide, moonlit clearing. He gave her no warning before shoving her to her knees. A gasp ripped out of her and her knees crashed to the ground with a rattling thud. She couldn’t feel the pain of such a rough fall now, but knew she would soon.

"Is that her?" An unfamiliar, silky voice asked. Noelia’s fear spiked. All she could see were black boots. She couldn’t lift her head for the life of her.

"Look into her eyes," Arthur responded and more than anything, it was the way his voice had gone cold that hurt, as if the man who’d snuck her tiny cakes and told her raunchy jokes that the council had expressly forbidden was gone. It was more than him drugging her with the same herb they’d used to keep her quiet, more than him kidnapping her. It hurt, and it hurt horribly.

The stranger knelt before her and she saw a pale hand just before it cupped her chin, gently raising her head. She should have closed her eyes, should have refused to cooperate, but Noelia needed to know who this stranger was that her best friend would risk her life for.

What she found froze her heart.

A shock of black hair. Black like ink, like shadows. Pale skin and a sharp, angular face. Red lips carved with the purpose to tempt and deceive, and eyes the darkest black she’d ever seen. Eyes that moved like hers.

Lorrse.

Her breath caught, and Noelia felt the world tip beneath her. A crooked grin curved his lips. "There you are," he murmured.

The god so evil, so wicked, that even the god of the underworld had disapproved of his dealings and trapped him in the worst, most deprived place in existence. The god who tore innocents, mere babes, limb from limb with his bare hands and laughed.

One of those hands that was now holding her, his touch like the cool breeze atop dark waters. And Noelia was helpless to escape; the cloyelia still holding her limbs in paralysis. She wanted to tear out of his grip, to run and hide.

Hide from the god who could use any and every shadow as his eyes.

"I’ve kept up our end of the deal," Arthur said, speaking faster now as if to outrun his guilt.

"Yes, yes," Lorrse said. He stepped back, and Noelia inhaled sharply. Vaguely, she felt tremors rushing over her. "I will keep your family safe."

"And?"

There was a mocking edge to the corpse god’s voice as he said, "And assist the dragons in their cause."

"Arthur," she said suddenly. Her panic was rising, and she could no longer ignore the pain striking her chest. "Arthur, please. Don’t-" she fought to catch her breath, to think past the drug, "Don’t leave me."

"You promised to take care of her," Arthur said, ignoring her entirely.

No, no, no, Noelia thought. She couldn’t breathe.

"She will be safe." If Lorrse’s words were meant to sound assuring, they did nothing more than send her tumbling deeper into her terror.

"Her heart can’t break," Arthur pressed.

A soft laugh, "I don’t think I’m the one who needs to worry about that."

Ice cold hands grabbed her, pulling her into his chest. She gasped, and it was then that she found Arthur’s face. Something flashed in his eyes when they met hers, and he immediately stepped forward, causing the god, and in turn her, to step back. Arthur’s face pinched, "Let me say goodbye."

"I believe you lost that chance the moment you drugged her," the god said smoothly.

Arthur’s gaze found hers once more, and he said, voice rough with emotion, "I’m so sorry."

"I would have helped you," Noelia said, anger rising up beyond the hurt, "the second you asked. I would have done anything for you. You know this."

The god pulled her even tighter against him like a prize and, waving Arthur away, said, "You have ten seconds to leave before I renounce my end of our deal."

Arthur’s eyes went wide, and anger flared in their depths. Then, with an ease Noelia had never seen from him before, his entire demeanor shut down and suddenly, he was someone else. A stranger. With a face as hard as stone, he turned and walked away.

"No," Noelia said. She tried to scream the word at him, but it came out as no more than a whimper. "No." He couldn’t leave her here with this monster. With this man, who would surely tear her apart for no more than his entertainment. Horror rushed over her.

Cool lips brushed her ear and Lorrse’s chilling, silky voice was there, "I’d save your breath. Men like him never turn around until it is too late."

She watched as he continued walking and didn’t, couldn’t fight as Lorrse began leading her away. The god was right, as Arthur disappeared within the trees without a single glance back at her.

And for one horrifying moment, a sharp brilliant pain cut through Noelia’s chest, stealing her breath, and she knew the glass had fractured.