Heartmender

by V. Romas Burton

  My heart cried out again, begging me to stop Lyle. But I couldn't. I was a defenseless child, a burden weighing him down. My fists clenched at my sides, the worn edges of Lyle’s paper rubbing against my skin. I opened my palm and smoothed out the wrinkles, praying there was an answer inside. But as I read the script I had only seen in old letters written by my father, my heart stopped.

  Take care of her.

  The paper fell from my hands as my eyes shot up to see Lyle's shoulders rise and fall one last time before he chose the door on the right. Placing his hand on the knob, he paused, and my heart prayed he would look back. But the door swung inward, and he walked over the threshold.

  The crowd paused, their anticipation rising. And then it happened. The door slammed shut, sealing Lyle in, never to be seen again.

  The crowd stood in awe before they jumped at the chance to trade their hearts for the mysterious choice given by the Vendor's magical doors.

  My eyes darted side to side, my lungs constricting as the fools of Heart Reign closed in, pushing their extracted hearts toward the Vendor. Tears sped down my cheeks as my chest heaved. I had to escape.

  I shoved through the lively mass, retreat the only thing on my mind, when a dark presence surrounded me. Bumps raised on my bare arms as a frigid, thick aura swirled over my being. The chaos of Heart Reign slowed, as if time itself had stopped. Although I ran to flee, I traveled nowhere. I stood paralyzed, wrapping my arms around my waist for protection when, only inches away from my ear, the Vendor whispered, "Don't worry, little Addie, your time will come."

  Chapter 2

  Seven years later

  "I don't understand," I said with a frown as I read through the article written in this week’s Barracks Conversation. I could almost hear the peppiness of the woman’s voice as I scanned the words. Why must I be subjected to this torture every year?

  "What's there to get?" Silas asked in his usual indifferent manner as he kept his cool brown eyes focused on his own copy. "Lila Crosswater found something worth her heart, so she traded it. Everyone does it, Addie."

  "That doesn't mean it's right," I mumbled under my breath. I felt his apathetic stare boring into my skull as I folded the paper and dropped it on the ground. I pulled my knees into my chest and looked out the ice-covered window of my home. It was one of the many houses suffering through the icy wrath that had arrived with Schism Breaker seven years ago. Before him, Barracks was a land of warmth and growth; now it was nothing but a frozen prison.

  "Everyone has to choose something, Addie. You know that."

  I didn't respond, allowing the crackling of the fireplace to fill the silence.

  Silas cleared his throat before reading aloud from the list of vendors for this year’s Heart Reign aloud. I shot him a death glare, already knowing who to expect. But, as usual, Silas didn't react. Only a few years older than me, he was always steady and unwavering, never having a rash thought or emotion. I couldn’t say the same for myself.

  Peering again through the window, I ran my chilled fingers through my dark hair. It was almost long enough to be used for a valuable trade, but I was torn between cutting or keeping it. I had been planning to get a new pair of boots or even some books. Books weren't too common in Barracks, but I hoped there would be a few. It would be nice to get lost in a few stories other than the ones plaguing the newspaper.

  But Nana had also said that my hair made me look so much like my mother. I could keep it long to have something to remind me of her. I had only a few trinkets that were hers and my father’s before they died.

  The words written on the note from seven years ago beamed across my mind before Silas began reading about Governor Willow. The governor’s husky, lethargic voice filled my mind as Silas recounted Governor Willow’s story about the power his heart trade had given him, which had allowed him to become the governor of Barracks for what seemed like decades.

  I narrowed my eyes at the glass. Governor Willow. There was always something about him that didn't sit right with me after Schism came to Barracks. I had never gone to the market again after that day, desiring to isolate myself within my home rather than confront the false happiness of the people infecting the streets with their judgmental comments. But since Lyle had disappeared, I had kept up with the wealthy governor's actions through The Barracks Conversation, which Silas would bring to me after his work with Gladio. The vendor uprising a few years back had certainly been a scandal, but after they required each Trader to be personally escorted by one of Governor Willow's armed men, the vendors’ complaints had died down. I wondered why all the fuss had begun in the first place.

  Twirling a piece of hair around my finger, I peered through a small hole in the ice. Local merchants were beginning to set up their tents and displays for this year's Heart Reign. The fear in my gray heart hardened. It was finally here.

  “Are you finished daydreaming?" Silas asked in his monotonous manner, causing the stone in my chest to soften. It had been doing that a lot lately in Silas’s company.

  “I’m sure I didn’t miss much,” I mumbled, forming my shield of disinterest toward all things related to Heart Reign.

  “You did,” he replied, nonchalantly. “Lord Farmount is predicted to get two women at Heart Reign this year.”

  I turned and looked at Silas, his angular face an austere mask as I allowed my short legs to unfold to the ground. “Honestly, I don’t really care what Lord Farmount does in his spare time.” The wealthy lord had taken after his father in preying on young female Traders. But at least his father had the decency to marry them. Frankly, Lord Farmount’s use of women’s hearts was disgusting, and I was glad I had hidden inside my home for the last seven years.

  Silas gave me a strange look as he cocked his head. If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn I detected a small smirk cross those straight lips. But when I gave him a questioning glance, he stood, placed his newspaper on the chair, and strode into the kitchen.

  I let out a sigh. When Silas first came into my life, I was on the brink of destruction. I had lost my best friend and the only person who cared about me. I had hidden myself in my house, locking away all feelings of hope or life. Nothing had mattered. It had been days since I had eaten or showered when Silas first knocked on my door. I never answered it, instead staying rolled in the safety of my quilt. But every day after that, a knock would sound at my door at the same time. Eventually, loneliness, curiosity, and annoyance overcame me and, one day, I unlocked the door before running up the stairs and locking myself in my room, thus beginning the tentative relationship we had today.

  Although I had locked Silas out of the house the first few times he knocked on my door or locked myself in my room when I did allow him in, he had continued to come without fail. When I wouldn't let him in, he would leave small meals on the front porch. I would ignore them, too depressed to acknowledge my own self wasting away. When I would let him in, I would retreat to my room, so he would leave food in the kitchen. The mere notion that it was there, filling my home with salivating scents, would encourage me to creep down the stairs and feast.

  I had always thought it strange how he would come in and out without saying a word, providing me with food, fixing the shutters that had blown off in the latest snowstorm, and cleaning my neglected home. I was the pariah of Barracks, ridiculed and condemned for trying to prevent Lyle from the "best trade of his life." Why would anyone choose to help me? At the time, I wanted to be left to die.

  But as I got older and realized loneliness and depression would consume me whole like it almost had before, I tried to engage Silas in conversation. He would never talk much, and his emotions never wavered from the same blank face. But one thing was true: he was always there for me, just like he promised Lyle.

  The wind howled outside, and I looked back through the window to see a piece of purple material flying through the air as the local merchants ran about to retrieve it. So much hype and preparation for such a terrible thing.

  The soun
d of a wooden box creaking open brought my attention to the small table standing across the room. A knot formed in my throat as I watched Silas place each wooden chess piece on the scratched board. Though some were broken and falling apart, they still held precious memories.

  "I thought you would like to play in memory of Lyle," he said, keeping his back turned to me.

  I studied the black sweater stretching across Silas's shoulders, realizing he was trying to divert my attention from the Heart Reign preparations outside. I hated the festival and what it stood for so much that I had become obsessed with my contempt. I knew he was right, and Lyle was gone. But a small hope still lay within my heart, and I prayed that wasn't true.

  Standing, I joined Silas at the table, welcoming the distraction from the events outside. I settled into a chair, enjoying the familiarity of the wooden chess pieces within my fingertips as I straightened each one into position.

  We were long engaged in battle when a knock sounded at the door, and I jumped in my seat. We both stared at the door, then at each other. Long before Lyle traded his heart, people stopped visiting our home. They were afraid of being cursed, like Nana. And when Lyle disappeared, it only got worse. The unwanted advice and slanderous words of the other citizens of Barracks still rattled through my mind.

  As if it were a rite of passage, every year a new group of Traders would come by, throwing more than words at my home. I hated how many times Silas had to repair the broken windows from the rocks and chunks of ice. The worst year was four years after Lyle had disappeared. The Traders for that year came with fiery torches, ready to wipe my actions from Barracks’ history. They decided the leper of Barracks needed to be taught a lesson about the glories of Heart Reign for good. Thankfully, Governor Willow stopped them before too much damage was done. But I’ll never forget the hate they spewed toward me.

  The knock sounded again with more force. I looked back at Silas, knowing it was too early for this year’s Traders to visit. His lips thinned into a line before he nodded. I stood and swallowed, bracing myself for the condemning words. Grasping the cool metal knob, I turned it and eased the door open. Silas's warm presence behind me gave me some comfort, but not enough for what stood before me: one of Lord Farmount's liaisons, dressed in a fine scarlet cloak that touched the ground as he bowed deeply. I stood paralyzed. What would Lord Farmount want with me?

  "Adelaide Tye?" he questioned as he stood tall once more. He had a long face with a long nose, and his eyes were hooded, glazed with boredom, like he had been on an errand such as this many times before.

  "Yes?" I answered, gripping the door handle until my knuckles turned white.

  He didn't seem to notice my discomfort. The man sighed and held out a golden envelope that shined brighter than the sun had in years. I stared at it until the liaison cleared his throat, making me jump before snatching the letter out of his hand. He bowed deeply again, turned, and stalked down the stone path.

  Closing the door, I kept my eyes on the envelope, unable to believe Lord Farmount would want me to join his collection of women.

  I was still trying to decide whether or not to open it when Silas calmly took the golden paper out of my hand and ripped it in two before walking to the kitchen. The hinges of the wood fire stove squeaked as the door opened. The squeak didn’t sound again until a few moments later when Silas returned, the envelope nowhere in sight.

  I stared down at my empty hands until a surge of annoyance built within me. I jerked my head toward Silas and snapped, “Why did you do that?”

  “I’m doing you a favor,” he replied, his strong shoulders lifting slightly.

  I looked at him, unsure of how to proceed. Steady Silas wasn't acting steady.

  "I could've at least read it," I said, feeling unusually curious about the lord’s letter. Being at home kept me safe from the evils of Barracks but also created boredom for my active mind.

  Silas’s lips pressed into a flat line as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You're going to waste your heart to be a part of Lord Farmount’s harem?" The fibers of his sweater tightened as he sucked in a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself.

  I stared at him, trying to decide whether or not to continue the conversation. Silas had always been there for me when no one else was. But the tense stance he was holding and the unexpected fiery look in his eyes were feeding the fears that had grown in my heart years ago.

  “No.” I kept my eyes fixed on him, not breaking contact as I took a step back, distancing myself from him.

  Silas’s stance relaxed slightly before he uncrossed his arms and nodded. Though there was still tension between his shoulders, he walked over to the table and began putting away the chess pieces. The old feelings of loneliness sprouted in my heart as I watched him slowly place each piece within the wooden box. It was easier, wasn't it, to trade your heart and lose your emotions?

  A dark cloud passed over my heart as I pulled myself up the stairs, silently closing my bedroom door before crawling into bed. I had come so far since that time seven years ago. It saddened me to realize I was still just as alone as I had always been.

  Eventually, I pulled myself out of bed, remembering everything I had planned for tomorrow. It took all my strength, but I yanked myself from bed and walked down the stairs, finding everything cleaned and tidied.

  Guilt weighed heavily upon my heart as I spied Silas through the window. The outline of his golden waves faded as he trudged down the snowy stone path, away from me. Why was he so persistent with helping me if he didn't really care? Didn't he see I was a lost cause, a depressed and worthless burden to anyone who entered my life?

  Yet part of me wished he would stay; having Silas around made me feel safe and secure. But I understood that he wanted to have time away from the leper named Adelaide Tye.

  I balled my hand into a fist, hating what Schism and his doors had done to me. Fear controlled my every moment. Every day, his cursed blood-red doors invaded my thoughts.

  Relaxing my fingers, I watched the blond locks fully fade into the browns of the community housing. Because Silas wasn’t born in Barracks, he had to live in a house with other nonnative citizens. If a family had been born in Barracks and had lived here for at least three generations, they were given their own house and property. Silas had mentioned that it was the only way Governor Willow could keep people from leaving, and he was partially right. The Barracks Conversation had published the agreement that was made by the governor after people had started fleeing into the Shalley Mountains toward the other lands of Decim to avoid Barracks' icy wrath. It had worked, to a point. People still traded with one another at the market, but it was nowhere near the thriving society it had once been.

  I turned around, pressing my back against the wooden door. My family had lived in Barracks for generations, so our house had been ours for decades. I was thankful for that. Otherwise, who knew what would've happened to me after Lyle's disappearance? Since Nana decided to move out and Lyle disappeared, I inherited the house.

  "Nana!" I said aloud, sliding to the floor. I ran my hands through my hair. I had completely forgotten that Silas and I were going to visit her later tonight. Dread filled my heart. I never ventured from the house without Silas.

  I looked at Lyle's old metal clock on the wall. There was still time. Maybe Silas would come back. I hoped he would.

  Chapter 3

  The hands on the clock moved half past the hour, and Silas still hadn't returned. I stood from my crouched position on the floor. If I was going to complete my plan for Heart Reign, I had to leave the house alone, and going to see Nana was the best way to prepare.

  Pushing myself across the creaking wood, I reached for my tattered wool cloak and mittens, simultaneously blocking out the memories of the comments from the horrid people outside.

  Worthless, they had chided. Burden.

  And one more added on the end: Don't worry, little Addie, your time will come.

  I shuddered, closing my eyes as I tightene
d my grasp on the cloak before I pulled the hood over my long curls. It would be fine. I could do this.

  When I opened the door, the crisp air slapped me in the face, penetrating my nose as I took in a deep breath. My body froze, reacting in shock to the icy chill that had come with Schism.

  Glancing around, I placed one foot out the door, trying to subdue the images of laughing faces and pointing fingers. No one was here. I inhaled and fully left the doorway, balling my hands into fists, determined to leave the house I had condemned myself to.

  The wooden step creaked as I placed my foot down. I took another step, welcoming another creak until I had made it successfully down the stairs. A small ball of hope sprouted in my heart until I looked up at the abyss of night, and it reminded me of the dark eyes of Schism.

  Lyle was the first of many to disappear through his blood-red doors. Whether Traders chose the left or right door, no one knew what had happened to those who crossed through. Although loved ones vanished, no one reacted as I had.

  Even though I had locked myself away, I had kept up with the following Heart Reigns. More and more people desired to trade their hearts away for an unknown choice, and more and more people disappeared. With each choice, the town grew colder. With each heart traded, emptiness overtook those who remained.

  As I took a step toward Nana's, I saw the top of blond waves peaking from the edge of the path. Relief washed over me as Silas came into view. Fluttering danced in my chest, and I couldn’t help but smile. He had come back.

  I stood at the beginning of the snow-covered stone path, waiting for his arrival as the bitter wind howled.

  "You left the house," he said, his impassive eyes studying my descent from the front steps.