The Fiery Heart

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. And Luna assumed she knew all too well the hateful world she now thrived in. She knew there was no escape, but she had to try. Had to do anything she could to get back to him ...

Luna

In my city, if I love, I die.

My life appears like every other life. In school, we learn to earn money, though as a woman of Marsad, I’m not expected to make more than my future arranged husband. I clean, cook, and kill meticulously. It’s expected of me.

I remember how life was before the election of 2084, the divide it caused. Our ruler Lord Dumpant, with his blond mop on leathery skin, decided the best way for humans to thrive was to split them into two cities – Marsad and Venusia. War and Love.

As I walk down the streets, scorched buildings crumble the skeletons of a city that once was beautiful. To my right is my favourite bakery, now a cinder pile with a dangled sign. If I focus, I can smell cinnamon and buttery croissants. Greyson used to hold me in front of that bakery. He would always purchase me a corn muffin, and it would crumble in my fingers. He would laugh as I missed my lips.

I roll my tongue in my parched mouth; it scrapes against my cracked tooth.

I shuffle my bare feet along the uneven pavement toward the assembly. I gaze down, avoiding any eye-contact with the citizens of Marsad. Any wrong look, no matter the intention, could cause a brawl … or death.

Greyson

The sun peaks through the pear tree branches beside my bedroom window like an alarm. I swallow a groan. Sadness isn’t allowed here – I can’t mourn her. Luna was my light, and every day I’m not with her feels like my heart rips out all over again.

I’m fortunate that I’m in Venusia. It’s safe here. The only laws of this city are love and kindness.

“Greyson!” Mum calls from downstairs. “Someone's here to see you!”

I must not be sad. I can’t risk banishment to Marsad. I won’t embarrass or leave my family like that. I spring from the mattress, stretch my arms overhead, then pull on my favourite pink shirt with turquoise stripes. Like always, the sun shines warmth through my window.

Luna

I coil my hands into my tattered, grey shorts. Twirling my fingers, I find my pocket knife, and the locket Greyson gave me. Its heart shape comforts me, knowing that inside the rusted nickel sits a picture of him. His warm, glowing face. I miss kissing his full lips, reminding me of lilacs and roses. If I ever found my way back to him, I would never let go.

I grind my teeth, swallowing a smile from twisting on my face. Any form of a grin is prohibited in Marsad, unless a person is a confidant of Lord Dumpant. He drew the electric border that caused the clouds to shade Marsad in perpetual darkness. No one can ever cross that border from Marsad to Venusia, and only Lord Dumpant lowers it for the Banishees of Venusia. Most of which end up executed, for they still hold the values of love and kindness, and our Lord will not tolerate rule breakers, unless they’re affluent, of course.

“Luna!” I hear Eli’s hushed voice calling me over. Eli is like me. A person who lived in the unfortunate building that wasn’t evacuated before the borders between Marsad and Venusia closed. Some tried to flee, only to disintegrate in the electric border. Others were killed immediately.

I tighten my grip on the heart-shaped locket. Ticking my tongue. “Shh! It’s the assembly.” Since the election, everyone from our building was seen as a potential Lover, someone who didn’t vote for the Lord and carried too much kindness. Heaven knows what Eli and I have had to do to prove to Marsad’s citizens that we’re as hateful as they are. Acts I’ll remember until I die, which could be any day. But each second I survive is one moment closer to Greyson.

Greyson

Mum gestures to a tall man with dark hair and icy eyes. “Greyson. Please welcome, Liam Cameron.” Mum gulps, balling her skirt into her fists.

My throat tightens. Anger isn’t allowed here. Why is she showing that emotion? I furrow my brow, grinning as widely as I can. “Hello, I’m Greyson Jaxon.” I offer my hand.

“Your mother didn’t introduce my full title,” Liam says, engaging my welcome. His grip firmly clenches mine. “Liam Cameron of Marsad.”

My stomach lurches. I suddenly notice the gun tucked into his belt. “You passed the border?” I ask with a polite nod. Though, it’s not possible. The electricity would’ve killed him.

“Indeed. May I sit?” Without an answer, Liam slides a wooden chair from the kitchen table, twirls it around, and straddles its wooden frame. “I am here for you.”

Does he take the Banishees? I never betrayed Venusia. I would never risk it. The people sent to Marsad never return. “Sir, am I guilty of something?”

“Oh, heaven no.” He laughs and cracks his knuckles. “I know your love, and a love like yours should never be in Marsad. I'm in the business of rescuing concealed Lovers.”

Confusion gnaws at my chest. Luna loves like I do. Heaven, she loves me like I love her. I miss her black hair and deep brown eyes. But I’m no fool. I know she’s probably dead by now. Though, I can’t stop the hope from bubbling through me. I do know that either she’s dead or has been brainwashed by the Lord. And she probably fights for her life, killing anyone who threatens that. “Excuse my question, for I mean no insult, but why are you here, for me?” I breathe heavier, praying my confusion isn’t mistaken for rudeness, another act that could make me a Banishee.

Liam sips on a shot of scotch then slams the glass against the table. “I know where Luna is.”

Luna

Eli sidles next to me as we slump forward. Ahead, the large screens of the assembly colosseum flash with images of the Fiery Heart, the symbol of ultimate hate. We file one at a time into the pews before the stage, protected by bulletproof shields. All shots fired at Lord Dumpant, ricochet back at the one wielding the weapon, killing them instantly.

The Lord waddles onto the stage, wearing a white suit, making his fake-tan brighter. Taller than the microphone, he hunches himself forward. He clears his throat, silencing the crowd. “Citizens of Marsad,” Lord Dumpant says. His voice bounces around the applauding audience.

Everyone holds guns and knives in the air, so Eli and I punch our fists up to blend in. Dried blood speckles Eli’s light shirt. Probably from something he partook in last night. We’ve stopped asking where the other goes, and what the other does. Most likely, it’s not good.

Lord Dumpant continues. “My citizens. We hate today, kill tomorrow, and war for life.”

The crowd erupts in roars of encouragement. I weakly shout too, my eyes as dead as the day Lord Dumpant won.

“We gather every morning on my victory soil to remove remaining Lovers.” He gags on his last word. Laughter from the crowd howls through the air like wolves. “Turn to your neighbour. If you suspect they were a Lover. Kill them. Make Marsad great again.”

With that he swivels toward the exit. His entourage of women bombard him. Guards circle around them, though there are more than usual.

One smirks. His lips curl. His icy stare pierces through the crowd at me. Suddenly, he pulls a gun and shoots. It’s so loud. Did it hit me? I glance down. There’s no blood. My shorts are still dry. The crowd goes silent. It’s deafening. I look around at the grey faces and clothes. No one moves a muscle; blood doesn’t cover anyone. However, all stare at the stage. My eyes dart up. Red liquid pools from the Lord’s mouth, staining his suit, and he collapses onto his knees.

“Eli,” I ask. “What just happened?” I know what happened. Someone shot the Lord. Where’s that guard?

“LONG LIVE VENUSIA!” Someone in the crowd shouts, shooting at whoever is nearby. A stampede of people trying to escape the chaos launches forward, and I’m jostled from Eli.

“Eli!” Panic stirs from my stomach and up my throat as I push my way through scared, scattering people. I reach into my shorts, searching for my pocket knife, but I realise the knife and my necklace are gone. I halt, staring at the ground. I collapse onto my hands and knees, defenceless and broken. I can’t continue without that necklace. It’s the only thing holding me to my life before. Greyson’s blond hair and green eyes are like no one else’s, and his only dimple curves into left cheek. I know nightmares will fog over his memory. Without the necklace’s reminder, my life in Marsad will swallow every part of my life before. “No.” I choke out. I will not let this city destroy me. Greyson is waiting for me in Venusia. I’m sure of it. Long live Venusia!

“Looking for these?” A scratchy voice asks above me, pointing a knife into the back of my neck. The stampede still scurries around us.

“How will I know if I can’t see what you're holding?” I seethe through gritted teeth.

The man behind me hangs the necklace before my eyes. It’s mine. A ruby is missing from its encrusted heart-shaped border. “This, yours? I won’t ask again.”

I know that voice. “Eli.” I want to grasp the chain, turn around and look him in the eye. “Let me stand. I can explain.”

“I said is it yours?” he asks louder this time. “I trusted you to tell me everything. And you’ve been hiding this.” He yanks the rusted necklace into his fist, shattering it into pieces. “You lied.”

“We’re supposed to lie here,” I say, frightened for my life. Scared that I’ll never again see Greyson’s green eyes or know how it feels to be wrapped in his arms.

“No, they are. We are supposed to lie to them.” He pulls a chunk of my hair toward his face. “We were supposed to be different. BUT YOU LIED.”

He presses the sharp blade, my blade, deeper into my skin. It cuts me. Pain sears in my throat, slicing through my breaths. I feel my blood drip from the wound, trickling down my neck. “Please.” I beg, though I know, I won’t survive this.

“Stand back from Luna,” a voice full of rasp and smoke says beside me.

Who’s that? I can’t move my head; the blade will deepen. The voice sounds so familiar.

“No one in Marsad saves people. That’s a way to die.” Eli spits in the voice’s direction.

“Good thing he’s not from Marsad,” a deeper voice says to my left. “And no, he’s no Banishee.”

Not from Marsad? Not a Banishee? I see where the deep voice comes from; the guard from stage, the one that shot the Lord. His unmistakable icy eyes burn through the mist and dust surrounding us.

“Venusian? How did you?” Eli asks, surprised and distracted for a moment.

It was long enough. I kick my leg behind me, jolting my neck forward and away from the blade. I spiral around, catching the knife, thick with my blood, in my hand. I lunge toward a fallen Eli. Stomping on his stomach, I steal his air. Around us, the crowd slowly disperses. “I promised you nothing.” I tell Eli and the man on my left takes over.

As I step away from Eli, I glance to my right. And can’t believe who I see: green eyes in a dusty face. “Greyson?”

He smiles, something I haven’t seen anyone do in two years. A sole dimple carves into his cheek as I run into his arms. “Luna, there’s a dead spot on the border. I’ve come to bring you home.”