Nocturna's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Nocturna woke to ivy where her window used to be. She sat up in her own bed, eighteen years old, her white curls spread across the pillow. But green vines climbed the walls of her chamber. They had cracked the stone and pushed through the floor. She pressed a hand to her chest and felt the purple runes there pulse faintly under her skin. Her mother's magic. The last thing she remembered was her mother's voice and a war outside the gates. Then sleep. Now the war was gone, and so was everyone. She swung her boots to the floor and stood. Cold air brushed her ankles. A soft glow moved beside her. It was her dog, but changed now, see-through and pale, his form drifting like mist. He barked without sound and pushed his ghostly head against her leg. She knelt and reached for him. Her hand passed through his neck. "How long?" she whispered. He only looked at her with bright blue eyes. Wind rattled the ivy. A crow landed on the sill, black feathers shining. It hopped inside and settled on a shelf, on top of a small wooden box she did not remember owning. The crow tilted its head at her. She lifted the box and opened the lid. Inside lay a folded letter, the ink faded but readable. "My dearest Nocturna," she read aloud. "I cast the spell and poured the magic I had left into you. I did not think you would sleep so long. I wait for you to wake, your own magic will be waking soon and I give you all mine, this was the only way to protect my only heir to the kingdom." Her hands shook. Her mother had written this before the sleep took her. Nocturna read it three times. Her mother meant to save her from the war. But the letter gave no year, no name, no place to find her. She carried the letter to the broken window and tore the ivy aside. Below her spread the courtyard she knew. The gates hung open and rusted. Vines wrapped every turret and swallowed the walls. Trees grew from the stones where guards once stood. This was not a night's sleep or a year's. Five hundred years had passed while she lay in her bed. The kingdom she was born to rule was gone. Nocturna stepped back from the window. The runes on her arms burned brighter now, answering her fear. Her mother had said she waited. That meant her mother might still be somewhere in this ruin, or had left more than one letter behind. Nocturna folded the paper and pushed it into her sleeve. The ghost dog rose and stood at the door. The crow lifted from the shelf and flew into the dark hall, then circled back, waiting. She pulled her boots tight and followed the bird. She had woken alone into a dead age, with only a ghost, a crow, and her mother's words to guide her. She would find out what her mother left, and why she was the one meant to wake.