006: Shining Crown

[Carnelia]

The march to my death is long and slow. We exit the dining room to stand at the beginning of a long corridor lined with bodies, each one standing to attention, gazing at me with hopeful eyes, whispering the words “savior” and “messiah” in the ancient tongue of the sun dragon as an ancient, musty robe of gold fabric embroidered with shining suns is placed on my shoulders. The cloth has been carefully cleaned, but like everything else in this palace, it is slightly marred, gently tattered, and tarnished around the edges.

I’m supposed to feel a kinship with these people who have faced so much but still stand tall and straight, with skin in colors ranging from tan to mahogany. And while I see a similarity between us, I know I am not one of them, not really. I haven’t lived through the same trials and adversity. 

While I feel for them and their plight, I am not one of them, something I am reminded of every day by the drakaina who calls me sister, but only to mock me, teaching me a powerful and important lesson: We may share blood, but that doesn’t make us kin. 

And yet, as I see these beautiful dragons, my heart sings with recognition. In Crimson, when I still believed I was a human, I never fit in. But here, I’m not so different physically than any other. 

“See how they marvel at you, My Queen,” Lyra raises my attention to the standing throng. “They honor you in the ways of our ancient queens. You are lucky they don’t know your true colors.” She then leans in closer. “They’d skin you alive and steal your essence.” She laughs, a sound of hate disguised as joy as she pulls me along. 

Looking at the handsome dragons before me, I can’t help but marvel. Everyone assembled today has come dressed and styled in their full glory with their hair in curls and coils in beautiful twists and braids and wide coronas of glory springing from their scalps as bright as sunflowers. On their wrists are bangles of bright gold to match the scales at their shoulders and along the edges of their faces and their pointed ears that arch upwards towards horns in shades of gold and midnight shadows. 

Even in a time of despair and hardship, sun dragons are a beautiful and proud race. This pride comes from the understanding that unlike any dragons anywhere else in the world, their power comes from our primary star, and is fueled by their souls. The strength of their soul-fired abilities was their greatest power, leading to a kingdom that was once a technological marvel for the world to envy, a mecca for the greatest minds of dragon kind. 

But their strength eventually became their greatest curse. I’ll never forget the sight of these once proud dragons dangling in pools of fluid, strapped to machines designed to drain them of their essence to fuel the cities of the North. 

Closing my eyes I try to rid myself of the images, but even behind my lids, they haunt me--just like they do in my dreams when I don’t reach out to my mate for comfort.

“Take note,” Cosima smiles, her sightless gaze upon me. “Can’t you feel the power? Even our high priests have come out of hiding for this day. What a great honor.” 

Looking where she is indicating I see that amongst the standing throng are drakes and drakaina with the markings of high rank, their faces painted in bright gold swirls, golden tattoos on their arms detailing their lineage and skill. They are similar to the moon dragon’s warrior priests, skilled in both combat and healing arts. 

And now they want to make me, a stranger to their land and ways, their queen. All because of my lineage and something else--something that Lyra, Cosima, and Nova refuse to disclose. 

“See how they wait for you, My Queen,” Lyra, who stands by my side gently nudging my march towards a sealed golden chamber. I am still her captive but a discrete one--they want the people to believe I came home willingly, ready to sacrifice myself for their cause. Only very few guards and the royal family themselves know that I’m really more of a slave than the lowest ranked among them--a queen and prisoner both.

Would they treat me differently if they knew I was here against my will, that I didn’t leave my Luxandrian mate but meet him every night in my dreams? Would they still line the halls with anticipation and joy written across their gently scaled faces? 

Something in the curve of their long black talons tells me that, much like Lyra threatened would happen, I’d be receiving a much different welcome. 

As we approach the tall, golden doors, they open from within, accompanied by the sound of squeaking gears and ancient mechanisms coming to life.

“This room has been sealed since the last coronation over 100 years ago,” Lyra explains, as the sun shining through the high, stained-glass windows filters through decades of dust and grime.

“Our priests said we must keep everything as it was until this day.” Lyra’s smile takes on a pointed edge as she adds, “You were prophesized, big sister--The first of our clutch to hatch, the universal dragon destined to rule. Had you been born here, you’d have been added to their number,” she points to the priests as they enter the room, filtering in around the massive gold throne, “You’d have been raised as a priestess, a great and rare honor, and you would have come to this throne gladly, willing to make your sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice,” I lift my head to meet her gaze. “What are you planning to do, Lyra? I thought you needed me to open the void.” Is she really willing to risk it all based on the mad rantings of a few old drakes? 

As she walks me over to the chair Lyra pats my hand. “Oh sweet sister, if you fail at this task and fall here, it won’t be for naught. Our agents work now to retrieve your heir--Nox I believe you named him? A fitting name for a shadow drake.”

My body freezes from within as my heart seizes with fear. “Leave my babies alone,” I hiss, my talons extending in threat. “If you hurt one scale on their bodies I’ll cut you to ribbons and laugh as you bleed.” 

“Make us,” Lyra’s eyes flash a bright amber, her face laughing at my futile attempts at threatening her, knowing that she has all the power. “Take your mantle and force us, sister, to bend to your will. You want to save your family, become the queen you were destined to be instead of the sniffling, colluding traitor you’ve become.” 

The priests gather before us in a straight line. One holds a burning branch of starfire jasmine which they use to perfume the air, waving it over my head, hands, and heart. Another priest steps forward with oil heated with the glowing blue sky stones used by the Moon Kingdom to fuel their dreamwalks. 

Just behind them is the golden throne. Now that I’m close enough to see the details I realize it isn’t a throne at all. 

It’s a conduit. It has the same tubes and wires as the containment pods, but they’re built into the chair itself. The crown is nothing more than a golden contraption designed to encase my head.

They mean to trap me here, to suck my essence.

A sacrifice.

“Kneel, Stella,” Cosima insists. “Kneel and accept their offerings.” 

“Burn in the sacred mother’s fires you foul bitch,” I snap as I look up at the golden throne, my fear fueling my anger. 

“With pleasure,” Lyra smiles just before she kicks me hard in the back of my knees, forcing me to the floor with so much force that my kneecaps crack under the pressure, my body blossoming with pain. For a moment I lose the ability to see as my vision burns red and white with the searing agony of my broken limbs. 

The priests step forward, anointing my brow with the oil from the bowl before I’m hoisted up to the chair and set onto its high cushions. 

Shackles of gold-plaited steel lock into place at my ankles, wrists, and neck. Even if I could move through my current pain, I’m trapped. 

Smiling benificently, Cosima says the final benediction. That’s when I noticed that her hands bear the first tattoos of the sacred priesthood.

So this is how it ends, betrayed by my kin, sacrificed for a cause, useful only because..

“Why does this have to be me,” I manage to say before a mouth guard is put into place. 

“Because,” Nova takes a step closer, speaking up, her eyes glazed with sadness “Among the three of us, you are the only universal dragon. The throne only works for universal sun dragons.” She looks down at my belly sadly and adds. “I’d take your place willingly if I could. I want to save our people. But I can’t. It has to be you.” 

Her wistful expression is the last thing I see before the sound of buzzing energy fills my ears and the world disappears.