22. Clara
22
CLARA
“ I t feels alive in here,” Clara whispered. Magick saturated the area. Sparks peppered her skin the deeper they went. The woodsy smell of the moss and grass were becoming more absent. Decaying marble and limestone were rough against the bottom of her feet, disturbed dusk kicking up around her sandaled feet. Broken statues became more monster than humanoid, faded blue pillars were almost completely dilapidated, boulders nearly covered every surface aside from a small path, and everything was eerily still.
The two stopped as a giant boulder blocked the only entrance into the temple. Drakonis did not speak as he approached it. He had said nothing since the living statues. His sinewy muscled arms pressed against the skin of his pale neck as he pushed the boulder to the side. Drakonis was massive, even in his humanoid form, and stronger than she could truly comprehend. Even a boulder that was nearly as tall as the vaulted ceilings could not stop his strength. His dragon, black and shadowy, hovered around his body, casually sitting on his shoulder. Was his dragon providing him his strength of was it his own? Clara had become hyper aware of his strength since the hunt. The confidence, wide breadth of his chest, and warrior aura was apparent even through torn clothes and dried blood.
That hunt had been the beginning and the festival had given her the opportunity to touch and confirm. Drakonis made her feel safe. A true warrior male. His physical strength was a contradiction to the fragility of his emotions displayed on his guarded face.
Drakonis’s eyes narrowed and focused as he took her hand again, leading her through the new entrance. She squeezed back. This touch was what kept her rooted. Between Zillah, the visions, and his dragon it was all becoming too much to bear. She would be his strength in any way she could. She wanted to protect him. The words Drakonis’s dragon uttered was a constant haunt.
The life that he knows will soon be over.
Infatuation snuck into her heart since the day she held him in her arms, and it only grew each time she was with him. Her flowers from him made him seem softer, and the boyish side of him during the Dawning Festival made her heart pound. She could not admit it aloud, but she wanted to kiss him more with gusto. She wanted him to consume her in any way he desired. Drakonis was becoming the object of her desire. He stole a piece of her heart while also being an obstacle in her mission.
Clara increased her strides, attempting to be closer to Drakonis. She was a different woman around this man, and she was surprised he couldn’t hear how fast her heart was racing.
Her family’s safety was still her goal, but now she was developing a new reason to forfeit the mission. This wonderful prince was close to stealing her heart completely and made her feel impulses she only read about in love stories. Impulses that she could never act on. The shadow dragon ran down their arms, around her waist, and up her back. His gray smoky eyes were against her jawline, spikes running along its spine. She ignored it the best she could.
His dragon was a nuisance. It was clear this creature knew more then what he let on. It could tell Drakonis what was lurking in the magick filled room. Buti t was like the dragon was testing its vessel.
She was certain Drakonis could be the Heir. But if he did not awaken, maybe she could still protect him.
“Drakonis,” she said. He did not stop, continuing as if he did not hear her. Clara stopped walking, yanking on his arm. “Drakonis!”
He stopped. His ice blue eyes zeroed in on her. His darkening irises shook, and his mouth was flat. The scales laying along the sides of his face and neck were raised and glowing. He did not look like the man she had been spending all her time with. She stepped closer and reached her hand up to caress the side of his face.
His breath caught, making her hesitate. The hand holding hers gripped tighter.
“We can turn around,” Clara said. Her hand fell back to her side. “We do not have to go any further.”
“You need to find the Heir.” His voice was hollow. Shadows drifted along his defined cheek bones. “We have come this far. It would be a waste to leave now.”
“Damn the Heir.” The words left her mouth before she could fight them back. Damn the dragon that lurked inside his body, manipulating him since he was a boy. Damn Nero and his disturbing words. Damn the Pythia and all others that just wanted to use him. “None of this is worth it. Not anymore.” Her hand left his as she grabbed the side of his face. “You just said you would find a way for us to get out. Let us leave.”
“You say such things when it was your whole reason to come to Ouroboros.”
His voice was not normal. What was wrong with him?
“Drakonis…” Her thumbs moved back and forth along his temples. “I will recant. I will do anything to make things go back to the way they were.”
“You cannot recant when you know very well who the Heir is. You cannot lie remember?” Darkness left her shoulders and consumed Drakonis. His eyes flashed. His lips pulled further apart in a fake smile. “All will be well. I will protect you.”
“But who will protect you?”
Drakonis took her wrists and turned his head to kiss her palms. Her heart skipped a beat. His lips were not warm like the forest. They were cold, like a man close to death.
“I’ve told you before. I do not need protecting.” His voice was hollow as he took her hand and began walking again.
“But…”
“Clara, you think I’m the Heir, yes? If I indeed am it’s imperative for me to know. My duty demands of me to embrace it for my people to know and harness the power that I would achieve.”
“You will become emperor…” And the most influential dragon on the continent according to Nero.
“That is up to my father. He will do what our ancestors decree and select who he believes is the chosen one. I will be emperor, or I will be…a tool.”
Clara bit her lip. Guilt began filling her body once again, this time more powerful.
Please. She begged to the fates. Please do not do this him. Give him happiness and peace.
Boxy hieroglyphics lined the blue and brown walls of empty rooms, mimicking some of what she saw on the pottery at the palace. These were not embellished scenes of dragons prevailing those over gargoyles in war. This was a story. A boxy, one dimensional, image of humanoid creatures with horns and tails. Women, children, and men half naked and blowing pale fire. The image, of what she first thought was water, were rising flames. A pedestal with a beam of light had pictograms vertically on each side. An image of what looked like a king had his arm extended to it. On the other side was another man, without horns or tail, with the symbol of Hades inscribed on his forehead. It was the hilt and blade of a sword with a half-moon attached. He too had a hand extended towards the pedestal. “The floor.” Drakonis said.
Clara looked down. Circles, starting small at the center and growing with each ring had symbols inscribed into them. Images of six rivers started at the largest ring and led to the smallest of the circles touching an engraving of a mint plant.
“Ugh.” Drakonis dropped his hand, gripping his temple with his fingertips.
“Drakonis?”
She grabbed his arm. His face was paling, sweat beading at his temple.
“I…remember this place.” He closed his eyes tightly. “Kazimir and I… UGH.” Drakonis dropped to a knee. Clara ripped a piece of her skirt, patting away the sweat as it was coming. Hopefully the silk was cool enough. “Water. I hear…water.”
Clara strained her ears. She could hear nothing. The eye in her forehead gave a warning sting before vibrating.
The images of water on the floor began moving like waves on the walls.
“Do you not hear it?” Drakonis voice cracked. It was if lightning struck the room. All doors and windows turned to stone, blocking them in.
The scales on his body were fully raised like spikes and were bright. His long black hair, once neat and tidy was wild from him running his fingers in it. She squeezed his shoulders and pulled away, stepping towards the circles. A strong hand grabbed her wrist.
“What are you doing? Do you not see that you will sink?”
Clara’s brows raised. Her third eye scanned the room, burning with power. Was this a place of illusion? Drakonis saw water while she saw nothing except moving symbols.
His grip was firm, but she felt the shake in his body. She touched his fist with her own, kissing his knuckles. His wide eyes, beneath his hands, were flashing ice blue and white. If they survived this, she would need to know more. More about the last time he had been here. Mayhap, she would have to speak to Kazimir.
“Don’t you remember Drakonis? I am a princess of Oceanus. I can walk and breathe in water.” She stroked the place she kissed. “I will be fine.”
“This water is different than the ocean. Do you not see the flames?”
She schooled the features on her face. She would give anything to be able to comfort him. But he had said he wanted to finish this, and she was determined to find out any secret that was here. If he was so determined, then she had to know. Knowledge was the only way she could protect him.
“I am a princess of water and you a prince of fire. Will you watch over me?”
Drakonis stood on shaky legs, holding her body against his. Clara could hear his heart beating profusely and felt every part of his body vibrating. A dark light emanated from his body.
“I-I will guide you,” Drakonis said.
Clara held his hand as she stepped onto the circle. The still drawing of rivers waved like a river. With each step she took her eye became wilder. A mint leaf in the center of the room caught and held her attention. Flashes flooded her peripherals the closer they got.
“Look out!”
Drakonis held her, her back against his chest, as he whirled her around.
Humanoids that matched the pictograms came to life. No longer one dimensional, but real dragons like the ones in Ouroboros. Unlike their modern counterparts, they were covered in scales instead of skin. They had not the feet of humanoids but the monstrous feet of dragon. Clothes covered only the most essential of body parts.
The glyphs on the side walls morphed to that of a ferryman on a longboat. He was but a drawing first, then his head moved, locking eyes with her. They were the definition of dark abyss. It was as if she was looking in the Tartarus. Even with the crude character she could make out his hooked nose, animalistic pointed ears, and a ghostly beard that floated like flames around his face.
I will guide you.
His lips did not move as he spoke. It was just like in all her visions. Words were directly said in her head. If Drakonis had heard it, he did not mention it.
“Clara. You must hurry. Danger is getting close.”
She grasped both of his hands and looked at the pedestal.
Tell our story.
She heard. This voice was more familiar. As if pushed she followed the command.
“Those of later birth will live as if they drank from the river Lethe,” Clara began, reading the glyphs as if she was a native dragon. “For only the true of us can truly live as Hades bequeathed. Past the barrier of Oceanus and into the land of death, our Lord Phaedrus lets us through the wailing waters of Cocytus where murderers bathed in the blood of the slain.”
Three of the rivers began to light up as she spoke. Drakonis grasped her tighter. She looked back up at the glyphs. They were their key out of this place. But her blood ran cold thinking of what lay beyond.
“May you light the blazing blue fires from the river Phlegethon and float with the ferryman to revive those that flow in misery of Archeron.”
Two more of the engraved rivers flowed. The mint leaf looked as if it blew in the wind. The brown and dirty engraving were turning into blue water, like that of her home. Drakonis inhaled above her and blew a red fire in a circle around them. She looked up. His eyes glowed and his hair flowed with hers as power encircled them.
Her eyes cut to the ruins once more. The final part.
“Children of hellfire, consumed in hatred, float along the Styx and live among the gods for that is the fate bestowed upon you as the Moirai.”
All the rivers lit up and circling around the mint leaf. Stepping a little from his arms, Clara stepped on it.
“Clara no!”
Flaming water engulfed them. The floor was no more but a tornado like abyss.
She screamed as she held on to any part of Drakonis that she could. His arms were tight, and his chest felt hot like the sun. Gray streaked his black locks. Etchings appeared on his face and soundless cries left his throat. Claws bit into her skin, but she did not wince. She turned and grasped at his chest, willing the pain to leave him.
I should not have listened. She thought. I’m sorry Drakonis .
Her heart screamed. Why could she not have the powers or strength of her sister? Why was she so helpless?
Tears streamed down her eyes. She kissed his chest, as close to his heart as she could reach.
“You have done well.”
A familiar tinged voice pulled her out of her fear. The two were still falling but snow-white hair replaced Drakonis’s black. Ice blue eyes were now gray, and the purple scales along his body were a gleaming opal, like that of the emperor.
“Why did you let this happen? Why are you pushing Drakonis to do things like this? Who the hell are you?” She was tired of the dragon’s secrets. Drakonis may have thought him a friend, but Clara knew better. Had there been true affection Drakonis would have been warned.
“You are not only beautiful but brilliant,” the dragon said. Ghostly wings extended from his back, slowing the fall. One of Drakonis’s hands tightened around her waist while the other held the back of her head, his fingers knit tightly in her hair. “You know the language of my people and can hear the songs of my Drakaina.”
“You fed it to me.” There was no reason other than that, that she knew what she did.
“I did nothing of the sort.” The dragon’s sharp teeth pulled into a wide smile. “I am close to taking form and will reform all that have descended from me. Those that do not conform will die.”
“You cannot! Drakonis will…”
“Drakonis will take my place among the dead,” the dragon interrupted.
Clara was floating in Drakonis’s arms. She had fantasized this, but not like this. Not with Drakonis possessed.
“Drakonis will lead dragons into a new era. He is strong and intelligent.” Clara said.
“I know his capabilities well considering the training I have given him.” Hot breath fanned her face as his came closer. “While I love the rebellious look in your eyes, you will come to know your fate as well. You who I saw so many millennia ago. My reward from Hades.”
“I will do nothing for you.” Clara tried to push away but the dragon did not budge. “I will do nothing that harms Drakonis.”
“By serving me, you save him. I will allow my Heir the time with you until my resurrection. Then he will take my place beside Hades. Fighting and serving him as he pleases.”
“Your Heir…” Dread filled her heart. She had been right. She had prayed to every god she was wrong, but she was right. “Phaedrus.” His name was a whisper on her tongue.
“It is nice to hear my name from your lips my pet.”
“No…”
Words left her as Drakonis’s lips crashed into hers. She grasped onto his clothing, trying to pull her head away, but the hand on the back of her head held her still. Phaedrus pushed his tongue past her lips and felt along the inside of her mouth.
Voices sang but they were muffled against her ears.
Phaedrus bit the bottom of her lip playfully, caressing it with his thick pink tongue. He pulled away licking his lips with a grin.
“I knew from the moment you came to Ouroboros you were the one. The key to my freedom and the maiden in my dreams all that time ago. My Persephone. The one who will ease my loneliness.” He kissed her again briefly. Once. Twice. “I will protect you and this boy as he finishes his awakening.”
“I will have him fight this,” she said through gritted teeth. “I will save him.”
“The Moirai are cruel,” Phaedrus said. “I once thought it was my fate to save my gargoyle brethren, but instead I became the father of dragons. A creator and a god in my own right.” His thumb rested on her swollen bottom lip. “For dragons to truly live one must pay a penance. I have paid mine, and now Drakonis must pay his. That is a fated destiny the Moirai have woven for him. He will do it well and proudly. After all it is all for our people.”
Phaedrus’s eyes flashed again. Drakonis was fighting whatever had taken him over. Phaedrus’s thumb left her bottom lip, his nail drawing blood as it scraped across the skin.
“You are one that serves the Moirai, the Fates. Just as Drakonis will, understand you will too my pet.”
“No!”
She pushed at Drakonis’s body again, kicking and flailing. Tears ran down her face like a river. She would not accept this. Drakonis was not a puppet. He was not a tool. He was precious and noble.
From hellfire we are born
And through greed we are contained
Hear our voices
Hear us sing
The Drakaina… the voices were louder here than she had ever heard them. She looked down and black water surrounded them. They were hovering. How she did not know, and right now, she did not care. Fins of those that looked like merpeople were swimming around.
Our hero has come
He is our chosen one
“No! He is not your chosen one!” Clara bellowed. The hand on the back of her head fell to her back.
Your soul is returned
And has become our salvation
Death will not defeat you
Rebirth will save you
Follow the Moirai’s strings
And the mother Nyx to darkness
Clara looked up. Phaedrus had gone, but Drakonis looked entranced. A handsome puppet with no control of his body. Her hands cupped his cheeks. “Come back,” she said through broken sobs. “Please Drakonis. Come back. Don’t let Phaedrus have you.”
She wrapped her arms around his thick muscled neck and her long legs around his waist. Sobs wracked her body as she placed her head in the valley between his neck and shoulder. The scent was uniquely him. She was a child of the Fates, but she would offer any god her soul before Drakonis was sacrificed. No matter what Phaedrus said.