Prison of Gold

It was spring. The air was crisp and warming. Flowers reached achingly to catch sunlight. Trailing the edge of the city, a brook gurgled merrily.

Damon trudged along, kicking up loose stones and dirt, his back to the city. He glared at the glimmers of sunlight in the brook. There was no escaping the glare in a city of metal and jewels. Even nature worshiped it.

He blew out a string of cold air until its moisture turned to ice. The particles gleamed tauntingly back at him.

More light. More reflections. More sparkling, shimmering, glimmering madness.

Zendris, the city of idiots, Damon always thought. The dragons had built their capital of pure metal, jewel, and glass on a mountainside. As if their flashy city with its altitudinous spires, curving towers, and massive gates were suddenly worth something because of the materials it was made from. But it was just a city, polished in some areas, coated in grime in others, with absolutely nothing to do or see.

Out here, away from the bustling streets, Damon could find peace. If you could call the looming cloud of nothingness that. It had settled in him for a while--the acute sense that nothing mattered. He couldn't shake the nothingness or the city.

The dragons all saw him as a weak half-breed. Everybody knew that his mother's third son from a third non-dragon father could only be worthless. 

He would have thought that they’d be more flexible in their behaviors like the metal they used everywhere. Nope. They were rigid in their opinions, and colder than he could ever be.

In spite, Damon turned back toward the nearest metal wall. It was copper, streaked with rainbow-tinting oxidation. In it was his own reflection and the winking spark from the sun behind him. 

Damon exhaled hard. A sharp sensation, both hot and cold, rose from his stomach, coursed up his throat, and poured out his mouth. Chilled air and icy moisture clung to the wall.

Frost covered Damon’s reflection and the sharp glare. It sparkled as it melted quickly. Damon hit the wall with another blast of his freeze-breath.

“How strongly can you do that?”

Damon nearly jumped out of the scales he wished he had. 

Electric green eyes peered into his. Damon stumbled away. Bronzed skin, freckles, and the sharp corners of a smile came into focus once he got distance between him and a girl. She was nearly as tall as he was--off only by a few inches that her wild curls made up for. A smattering of green opalescent scales began at her neck and traveled to her collarbones, shoulders, and down her arms.

“Do what?” Damon asked, once her words registered in his mind properly. He shuffled onward, following the brook’s path. A pang of curiosity ran through him when the girl followed. He hadn’t seen her before. But the angular, chiseled face and scales confirmed that she was a dragon.

“Your Winter’s Breath,” the girl said, keeping pace with him. “Can you make it stronger?”

“Yeah. Any ice dragon worth his diamonds can.” He frowned, finally piecing the chips together. 

She was a regal, of the sophisticated crowd. It was all over the way she moved and her mild tone of voice. He couldn’t believe he had let that smile blind him from all the mannerisms of a regal that wanted something.

“Could you please demonstrate?” 

“Could you please bother someone else?” Damon mimicked her prim and proper enunciation, hardening each consonant with disgust. The regals never brought anything good to him.

Damon pressed forward. He felt the cloud of nothingness weigh heavily inside him. It churned with his frustration. The ice in his veins burned. A pressure tightened around his lungs. The searing clawed up his throat. He coughed. A shard of ice flew from his mouth and made a soft thud upon hitting the ground.

“Are you alright?” 

“I will be once you leave me alone,” Damon said. His voice went gravelly at the end and he knew he’d need space.

The girl followed him as he broke into a run. He was oddly aware of how elegant her run was--a grave difference from his near stumble.

Damon grunted. He angled his head away from the girl, towards the clearing he always came to. The heat. The cold. The singing energy. Damon gave in to the equivalent of puking his icy guts out.

Just off from the brook, the clearing was bordered by a few trees, full of soft grass sprinkled with patches of flowers. Except, now, frost covered the flowers and in the middle of it all, a bush was encompassed in ice. 

It was an odd image. One that made Damon’s cheeks burn. The ice’s lines and curves vaguely made out the shape of the girl. The ice-version was frozen in a run, curly hair streaming back. It was a sloppy figure, lacking detail, but it had enough to clearly be the girl.

“You’re the one who does the sculptures around the city, aren’t you?” the girl’s voice had lost the affected softness. It was genuine and clear as the sculpture. Her footsteps rustled closer.

Damon tensed and reached for the sculpture. He breathed over it, ice obscuring its original shape. “Maybe.”

“Your sculptures are highly amusing. I think my favorites would be the series of citizens mid-sneeze or the one of a full dragon form.”

Damon crushed his smile at her comments. He didn’t need validation from her or anyone else. 

The girl was beside him now. He could feel her warmth seeping across the air. This time he didn’t jump when she leaned over to peer into his eyes. 

The girl grinned. “I’m Kora.”

Damon avoided her gaze and plopped himself onto his usual rock. At his feet, flowers were sprinkled with frost. A few had been crushed under stray ice shards. He brought his feet up onto the rock, tucking his mouth behind his knees. 

“What’s your name?”

Damon shut his eyes as Kora settled onto the flowerbed. 

“A storm is coming this winter. The fairies predicted it would be fierce.” There was silence. “I’m worried for my garden. The heated buildings are going to melt water right into the soil and it’ll just freeze right up. My garden can’t handle that.”

“Sounds like you just need a tarp.”

“I think not.”

Damon opened his eyes then. She looked completely earnest.

“I’m sure you could pay a mage for enchantments or a nymph for protection.”

Kora looked appalled. “I am not leaving the safety of my garden to anyone else.”

Damon rolled his eyes. “Good for you.”

“I’ve got a plan, but I want to make sure it will work.”

“Good. For. You.”

“I could use your help,” Kora said.

Damon scoffed. 

“And you could use mine.”

“What could I--”

“You haven’t had much training have you?”

Damon froze. He clamped his mouth shut and stared at the frost on the ground. Apparently he wasn’t very good at hiding the fact that nobody in the city would train a scaleless half-dragon like him.

Kora smiled gently. “I can’t imagine living life afraid to breathe.”

That just about summed it up.

“I can help you. You’re here to practice in the quiet, right?”

“Are you an ice dragon?” Damon left out the part where he was only half-dragon. He was lucky enough to be born with the ability of Breath. But he still couldn’t transform into dragon form.

“No, but it’s all the same,” she said with a shrug. The scales on her shoulder caught the light with the motion. “At least when it comes to control.”

The city’s bell rang and Kora stood quickly. “Think about it. It was nice meeting you…” her voice trailed off.

“Damon,” he supplied.

Kora grinned until the corners of her mouth could cut jewels. “Nice to meet you, Damon.” She dropped into a curtsy, then took off running back to the city.

Damon was left on his rock, staring at the melted water on the flowers and the slick surface of what had been Kora’s sculpture. He pressed his lips together harder. 

---

It had been a few days since Kora had offered to train him. Damon hadn’t gone back to the brook since.

So his only pastime was wandering through the streets of Zendris, leaving trails of cold around the city. Today he ventured into the wealthier area.

Everything was shinier, flashier. The buildings were polished so that regals could see their pearly scales and jewelry in the reflection. Where he went, darting glances followed. 

He could count how many people would look at him for more than a second. One was the baker who told him not to loiter and the other...

“Damon!” There was a pressure on his shoulder, the source of the voice hovering at the same level.

Curls tickled Damon’s ear as Kora put her chin on his shoulder from behind. He jerked away. “What do you want?”

“I’ve been looking for you, Damon, ” she said. His name in her voice sent a chill down his spine. She softened the ‘D’ and lingered on the second syllable like she was savoring it.

Damon’s heart slammed into his chest. He wished it would freeze in place.

“Why?” he managed. It proved he was fine. That blip of the heart was just a momentary abnormality.

“It’s not everyday I come across a cutie with the exact skillset I need to practice for the storm.” 

“Ah.”

Kora beamed. Already moving, she asked, “So you’ll help me?”

“Where are we going?” Damon followed and stepped around her question.

The buildings around them became towers--homes for the regals. He let Kora lead him to the gate of a tower. 

She stopped there for a moment. She touched the golden gate and her reflection in it. Kora leaned closer and reached for a vine trailing over the top. She caressed the leaves and sang out a note. The leaves went brighter.

“Life’s Breath?” Damon was in awe. Dragons with that ability were rare. Supposedly they could impact the health of all living things.

She grinned. “I learned to bottle it in a mixture of water and sugar. If distributed through the irrigation system, my plants should survive the storm. The compound doesn’t freeze, but plants might.”

Then she pushed past the gate. Vibrant green, reds, and pinks grew over the golden fences lining the garden and conquered the center in patches.

She beamed at him. “Ready?”

Damon blinked. Then the training began.

---

In a few days, Kora had verified that her system protected her plants and increased Damon’s endurance. Despite obtaining her results, she still coached him daily and ended their sessions with a picnic.

“Your parents must be proud of you. Beautiful and a rare ability--what more could any suitor want?” Damon said, taking the last fruit slice.

She frowned at the golden tower that loomed above them.

“What more than the selection from every suitable bachelor could you want?”

“Love.” Kora’s eyes went unfocused. “My parents are… involved in the selection process.”

The way her eyes dulled, made some part of Damon nudge her shoulder with his own. “So they’re the entire process.”

Kora shrugged. “What do you think love is?”

“It’s the satisfaction of both parties’ needs.”

Kora busted out laughing. Her shoulder shook against his.

“I take it that was the wrong answer.”

“And what about passion and romance? Destiny and soulmates?”

“If those are what you need then the one you love would satisfy all of those needs.”

Kora looked at him like she was seeing more than himself.

Damon couldn’t say he disliked it. 

“This city doesn’t fulfill your needs, does it?”

She was a magnet for his honesty.

“It doesn’t matter if I spend this hour here with you or at home. Or if I spend it walking or training. At the end of this hour, I’m still going to feel the same… nothingness.”

The nothingness… Damon had no other word for the weight in his chest.

Kora was quiet for a while and he didn’t have any urge to change that. Finally, she asked, “What about making something?”

“Like my ice-sculptures?” Damon scoffed. “Ice melts, Kor.”

She reciprocated the shoulder nudge.

When she spoke again, her voice was so soft he might have imagined it. “You could make something more lasting.” She looked over at him and her smile swept the air from his chest.

It was no more than a moment, but Damon felt like it was eternity. He cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “And you? You stay in the city despite the trappings of regal culture?”

“Oh, I’m here for the shiny stuff. Nothing could tear me away.”

“Am I detecting sarcasm?”

Kora laughed. There were those sharp lines and corners. It was like the world had come back into focus. “I stay for family. You do too, don’t you?”

Damon exhaled hard. He stared at the stream of cold air and shrugged. “My mom lives here.”

Again, she drew more from him with just silence. “My eldest brother, Satlius left me and my older brother a few years ago.”

“What about your fathers?”

Of course she knew.

“One left, one’s dead. Mine doesn’t know about me.”

Kora nodded thoughtfully. 

“I’m only here until I can stay with Satlius. He promised I could soon,” Damon said. 

“You’re leaving?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just don’t go getting your heart attached, alright?” He flashed a smile.

She laughed. “I think it’s you who needs to be warned. Wouldn’t want anything getting in the way of your plans.”

---

Damon didn’t know what possessed him to share this much when he hadn’t said so many sentences in months. It probably had something to do with the way he couldn’t stop thinking about Kora.

Her allure drew him to her over the next few days. Her affection kept him at her side for the next few weeks. His returned affection ensured that any spare minute they had was spent together over the next few months. 

“Just like that!” Kora sprang to her feet and pointed at the single frosted leaf.

Damon rolled his eyes despite the flush of warmth across his cheeks. “I did that yesterday.”

Kora swatted his arm playfully as she settled in beside him. “Never with such sharp aim.”

He formed an icy bouquet sculpture, handed it to her, and leaned in for another kiss. She wrapped her arms around him. 

He had to admit Kora was a good teacher. She had infinite patience and incredible motivational skills.

More, she filled the nothingness with hope for the future, with shared dreams of leaving this city and starting the lives they wanted to live together.

---

Summer burned by in shadowed moments of passion. Autumn was a warm breeze, wrapped around the two of them as they fell further in love. Winter came swiftly, beginning with the anticipated snowstorm.

“IT WORKED!” Kora wrapped herself around Damon and pulled him to his feet with her jumps of joy.

He was steady as she stumbled, anchored by the little box in his jacket pocket. He kissed her. “I’m so proud of you.”

“This compound could revolutionize agriculture,” she whispered, eyes wide. “We could start a business, a shop. Travel. Have a whole farm or forest. A place for your art, a cottage. Start a family and--”

Kora stepped back after the statement, lips pressed tightly like she feared what would come out next. She gave voice to the dreams they shared and so much more.

“We could do all of that.” Damon closed the distance between them. 

She looked up at him with those eyes of hope, the reasons to stay, those magical eyes that turned a gilded prison to a home. “Propose,” she whispered.

“Kor, will you--? You felt the box, didn’t you?”

Kora’s smile was radiant.

“Yes and yes.”

---

Their winter wonderland was brief. 

“Please just let me see her.” Damon pleaded with Kora’s stoic mother. 

He felt the icy nothingness building up in his stomach again. It was almost foreign. Kora had almost thawed it from existence.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since she said yes. Thirteen days since he received that letter retracting her agreement and the returned ring. Thirteen days of begging to see her.

Finally, Kora came to the door. Her curls were slicked into a bun, pulling taut at her golden brow. She was pale, lips ashen, eyes dulled. 

“Hello, Damon.” 

He flinched. Her voice was still soft, but his name was sharp on her tongue.

“Please Kor, what happened? I thought--” The words got stuck. It felt like his insides wanted to come out. Fractals forming in his chest and up his throat.

She put a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. For a moment, she was his Kor again. 

“Don’t be afraid to breathe.”

She was steady as he stumbled. He knew it then. He felt the weight of the ring in his jacket pocket and the anchor that held her on the other side of the doorframe. She was rooted in her culture, bound to her family. She held onto duty and pushed him away.

“I thought you wanted to break free, create our own place.”

“You inspired me,” she said. “But I can’t.”

“We could go now. Do everything you wanted. The shop, the farm, the forest, the cottage…”

“You could.” Kora’s voice broke, another shard of his Kor. “But I am otherwise engaged.”

He looked down and found a band of gold around her finger. 

Ice rose up and out. He was choking, coughing. He took the hardest step he had to take--away from the life they dreamed of.

“I hope life treats you well.”

---

Damon was frozen until winter melted into spring. He waited for her. She didn't fight for them.

He found a new strength to leave. Love was a force more powerful when it became heartbreak.

He freed himself.