Author's Note: I finally got the courage to start writing a book. This is part of the first chapter. Some credit must be owed to my friend for helping me edit get my ideas straight!
It wasn't uncommon to find the sisters fighting. More often than not, it was to the death, well, close to it at least. It was impossible to count how many times they have carried each other's broken bodies to the Hall, the place where the nobles go to treat their wounds. These many spars were for training, in case the peace that filled the kingdoms was ever broken. Or to solve who the better sister is, which was more likely the case than one would think.
Today was a private lesson with the twin's favorite personal trainer. Orman's drills were draining, long, and uncomfortable, but his punishments were ten times worse. The two had already been fighting for three hours today, but the fear of Orman's wrath encouraged their continuous participation. This session was different from the usual ones; Orman let Margo and Sierra fight without instruction or intervention.
Something was wrong with Margo, and Sierra has fought her enough to know that this wasn't just one of her moods. Normally throwing an opponent about for a few rounds would do the trick, but it's been hours and Margo had the same dark look in her eyes as when she entered the ring.
The girls jumped away from each other, both panting heavily from their previous brawl. Margo lunged toward Sierra, a dragon following closely behind. Before they could meet, Orman threw up a hand, stopping all movement in the arena. A quick snap of his fingers and they went crashing down, Sierra managed to land on her feet, while Margo slid across the dusty floor. She winced as grime was pressed into her open cuts upon impact with the ground. Rolling over on her back, she found a dark shadow looming over her. Orman, arms crossed and dark eyes seething, stood looking down at the fallen princess. He bent down and his scowl came into view as the autumn light moved across his face.
"No. Familiars." He commanded as he reached his wide hand toward the fawn-haired girl. Margo reluctantly took it and the force of Orman's pull made her fly upright. Still having hold of his hand, she stumbled into him before attempting to pull away from his strong grip. The trainer gave Margo a quick yank so that they were face to face. "If I see another familiar in the ring today, you can expect over time." And with that, he pushed her away.
"Take five." He turned around and walked out of the training hall, leaving the two princesses unsupervised. The two could finally breathe again now that their demonic instructor had left. Margo stalked off to the other end of the room, the black dragon, Anix, following after his human. Once she was far enough away from her sister, she plopped down, the dragon's scaled body breaking her fall as she landed into the crook of his wings.
"What's gotten into you today?" Sierra questioned as she pulled her dark wavy hair into a ponytail. Margo and her familiar both let out a huff. The dragon's wings wrap further around the angered girl as Sierra rolled her eyes at the two. Gods, they really do share one brain cell, don't they? Sierra thought, walking back to where her canvas duffel bag laid. She snatched up two water jugs. Throwing one of the bottles into the air, she summoned an ice blast, sending it in Margo's direction.
Before it could hit Anix's leathery wings, a hand shot up and caught the jug in a display of quick reflexes. Without acknowledging her sister, Margo screwed off the lid. "It's frozen." With that, the moody girl threw it to the side as she hid farther into the wings of her companion.
"And?" Sierra replied, getting more and more annoyed by her sister's childish behavior.
As Orman began to emerge from the large ebony doors of the training hall, Margo's familiar disappeared in a flash of smoke, reappearing as a tattoo coiling around the girl's wrist. "Are we all rested up, girls?"
"That was definitely not five minutes," Sierra complained a little, moving back to the designated fighting area.
"Time is an illusion sweetheart. Now, who's ready for another round?" he clapped his hands, bidding the two girls to the center of the room. Orman lengthened his back, closed his eyes, and had his palms meet at the center of his body. Sierra and a reluctant Margo followed his example. The three proceeded to clear their mind, brushing away useless thoughts and worries to find the source of their powers.
Like a switch was flipped inside her, Sierra's magic blossomed. Ice crystallized across her skin, creeping its way along her body, freezing the folds of her uniform. Sierra opened her eyes to look at her sister. The girl's face was scrunched up in concentration, but soon lightning radiated around her body. Margo's short, fawn hair rose up from the static electricity.
"You may begin."
In a swift movement, Sierra shot an ice bullet toward her sister. It was met with one of Margo's intricate metal daggers. The weapon won, the electricity it was infused with shattering the ice as it continued toward its target. Only, the dagger missed, splintering the wood of a beam along a wall of the training hall. Sierra was gone, the disturbed dust plumed from where she once stood. Margo looked above her, Sierra suspended in the air, held up by two gold-tinted wings as snowflakes flew around her, the tips of her auburn hair frosted as she smirked at her sister on the ground.
"Coward," Margo shouted, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
"If I'm such a coward, then why don't you come up here and teach me a lesson." She could hear a growl and soon was blinded by sparks of electricity. When the light had dissolved, Margo had performed a disappearing act of her own. Looking to the left, Sierra found her sister jumping up beams to where she was. She futility tried to dodge the upcoming attack, but she was grabbed by the ankle and flung toward the ground. She could do nothing but plummet under the force.
The wind was knocked out of her, forced wheezes racked her body in an attempt to breathe. Margo landed nimbly beside her before digging her foot down on her chest. Sierra, still gasping, looked up at her sister, noticing the usual green of her irises replaced by blue. "Margo…" she whispered. Now it was certain that something was wrong. Her eyes only changed when she was upset.
Being distracted with concern for the mood of her sister, the grip she held on Margo's boot loosened giving her the ability to press down harder. With a crack, her back arched, a whimper forcing its way through the pain. The sound of her wing breaking was all she could hear.
Sierra looked desperately up to the observation deck where Orman spent most of their battles, expecting to see his usual indifference toward what was going on below. To her gut-wrenching surprise, the king stood in place of her trainer. His judgment could be felt, amplified by the weight of her sister stepping down on her.
All Sierra wanted was to have the admiration of her father, but she knew if this continued, she would never receive it. Growing bolder, she created a shield of ice under her sister's boot, thrusting it upward. The force sent Margo tumbling away. "Don't think I'll give up so easily, Margo." She rolled over onto her stomach, off of her wings before slowly standing up. Everything was off balance, the dead weight of her wing dragged the right side of her body down. Exasperated, she grasped the amethyst hilt of her sword, the metallic scrape of it unsheathing sounded through the room.
"Now we're getting serious?" Margo baited.
Wordless and out of breath, Sierra raised her sword in an attempt of intimidation, but the weight of its crystalline structure was too heavy and she dropped down to one knee. Her sword clattered in the dust beside her. Margo's victorious smirk cut her pride quicker than any dagger. She watched helplessly as her sister raised a fist, crackling with electricity.
"That's all I need to see."
The two stopped and looked up in time to see their father, the king, dismiss them from the arena. With a swift swish of his plumberry cloak, he left the deck. With a sigh, Margo turned and fell onto her back from exhaustion.
Orman burst through the doors, bee-lining for Sierra. Without a word he pulled her up onto her feet and before she knew what was happening, she felt another crack as he began to push her dislocated ribs back into place. With each adjustment Sierra winced, seething curses under her breath. Orman didn't act upon his usual rules for curses spoken in his arena, instead, he focused on Sierra's injuries, his face shadowed by some sort of expression the girls had never seen before.
"Margo, please take Sierra to the Hall and then report back to me immediately." Orman lifted Sierra's right side for Margo to support.
Taking hold of her sister, Margo made her way out of the training room and towards the Hall.
"You're in deep shit," Sierra uttered, once they were out of Orman's range of hearing.
"Tell me something I don't know." She rolled her eyes, a small smile forming on her face.
It wasn't uncommon to find the sisters fighting. More often than not, it was to the death, well, close to it at least. It was impossible to count how many times they have carried each other's broken bodies to the Hall, the place where the nobles go to treat their wounds. These many spars were for training, in case the peace that filled the kingdoms was ever broken. Or to solve who the better sister is, which was more likely the case than one would think.
Today was a private lesson with the twin's favorite personal trainer. Orman's drills were draining, long, and uncomfortable, but his punishments were ten times worse. The two had already been fighting for three hours today, but the fear of Orman's wrath encouraged their continuous participation. This session was different from the usual ones; Orman let Margo and Sierra fight without instruction or intervention.
Something was wrong with Margo, and Sierra has fought her enough to know that this wasn't just one of her moods. Normally throwing an opponent about for a few rounds would do the trick, but it's been hours and Margo had the same dark look in her eyes as when she entered the ring.
The girls jumped away from each other, both panting heavily from their previous brawl. Margo lunged toward Sierra, a dragon following closely behind. Before they could meet, Orman threw up a hand, stopping all movement in the arena. A quick snap of his fingers and they went crashing down, Sierra managed to land on her feet, while Margo slid across the dusty floor. She winced as grime was pressed into her open cuts upon impact with the ground. Rolling over on her back, she found a dark shadow looming over her. Orman, arms crossed and dark eyes seething, stood looking down at the fallen princess. He bent down and his scowl came into view as the autumn light moved across his face.
"No. Familiars." He commanded as he reached his wide hand toward the fawn-haired girl. Margo reluctantly took it and the force of Orman's pull made her fly upright. Still having hold of his hand, she stumbled into him before attempting to pull away from his strong grip. The trainer gave Margo a quick yank so that they were face to face. "If I see another familiar in the ring today, you can expect over time." And with that, he pushed her away.
"Take five." He turned around and walked out of the training hall, leaving the two princesses unsupervised. The two could finally breathe again now that their demonic instructor had left. Margo stalked off to the other end of the room, the black dragon, Anix, following after his human. Once she was far enough away from her sister, she plopped down, the dragon's scaled body breaking her fall as she landed into the crook of his wings.
"What's gotten into you today?" Sierra questioned as she pulled her dark wavy hair into a ponytail. Margo and her familiar both let out a huff. The dragon's wings wrap further around the angered girl as Sierra rolled her eyes at the two. Gods, they really do share one brain cell, don't they? Sierra thought, walking back to where her canvas duffel bag laid. She snatched up two water jugs. Throwing one of the bottles into the air, she summoned an ice blast, sending it in Margo's direction.
Before it could hit Anix's leathery wings, a hand shot up and caught the jug in a display of quick reflexes. Without acknowledging her sister, Margo screwed off the lid. "It's frozen." With that, the moody girl threw it to the side as she hid farther into the wings of her companion.
"And?" Sierra replied, getting more and more annoyed by her sister's childish behavior.
As Orman began to emerge from the large ebony doors of the training hall, Margo's familiar disappeared in a flash of smoke, reappearing as a tattoo coiling around the girl's wrist. "Are we all rested up, girls?"
"That was definitely not five minutes," Sierra complained a little, moving back to the designated fighting area.
"Time is an illusion sweetheart. Now, who's ready for another round?" he clapped his hands, bidding the two girls to the center of the room. Orman lengthened his back, closed his eyes, and had his palms meet at the center of his body. Sierra and a reluctant Margo followed his example. The three proceeded to clear their mind, brushing away useless thoughts and worries to find the source of their powers.
Like a switch was flipped inside her, Sierra's magic blossomed. Ice crystallized across her skin, creeping its way along her body, freezing the folds of her uniform. Sierra opened her eyes to look at her sister. The girl's face was scrunched up in concentration, but soon lightning radiated around her body. Margo's short, fawn hair rose up from the static electricity.
"You may begin."
In a swift movement, Sierra shot an ice bullet toward her sister. It was met with one of Margo's intricate metal daggers. The weapon won, the electricity it was infused with shattering the ice as it continued toward its target. Only, the dagger missed, splintering the wood of a beam along a wall of the training hall. Sierra was gone, the disturbed dust plumed from where she once stood. Margo looked above her, Sierra suspended in the air, held up by two gold-tinted wings as snowflakes flew around her, the tips of her auburn hair frosted as she smirked at her sister on the ground.
"Coward," Margo shouted, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
"If I'm such a coward, then why don't you come up here and teach me a lesson." She could hear a growl and soon was blinded by sparks of electricity. When the light had dissolved, Margo had performed a disappearing act of her own. Looking to the left, Sierra found her sister jumping up beams to where she was. She futility tried to dodge the upcoming attack, but she was grabbed by the ankle and flung toward the ground. She could do nothing but plummet under the force.
The wind was knocked out of her, forced wheezes racked her body in an attempt to breathe. Margo landed nimbly beside her before digging her foot down on her chest. Sierra, still gasping, looked up at her sister, noticing the usual green of her irises replaced by blue. "Margo…" she whispered. Now it was certain that something was wrong. Her eyes only changed when she was upset.
Being distracted with concern for the mood of her sister, the grip she held on Margo's boot loosened giving her the ability to press down harder. With a crack, her back arched, a whimper forcing its way through the pain. The sound of her wing breaking was all she could hear.
Sierra looked desperately up to the observation deck where Orman spent most of their battles, expecting to see his usual indifference toward what was going on below. To her gut-wrenching surprise, the king stood in place of her trainer. His judgment could be felt, amplified by the weight of her sister stepping down on her.
All Sierra wanted was to have the admiration of her father, but she knew if this continued, she would never receive it. Growing bolder, she created a shield of ice under her sister's boot, thrusting it upward. The force sent Margo tumbling away. "Don't think I'll give up so easily, Margo." She rolled over onto her stomach, off of her wings before slowly standing up. Everything was off balance, the dead weight of her wing dragged the right side of her body down. Exasperated, she grasped the amethyst hilt of her sword, the metallic scrape of it unsheathing sounded through the room.
"Now we're getting serious?" Margo baited.
Wordless and out of breath, Sierra raised her sword in an attempt of intimidation, but the weight of its crystalline structure was too heavy and she dropped down to one knee. Her sword clattered in the dust beside her. Margo's victorious smirk cut her pride quicker than any dagger. She watched helplessly as her sister raised a fist, crackling with electricity.
"That's all I need to see."
The two stopped and looked up in time to see their father, the king, dismiss them from the arena. With a swift swish of his plumberry cloak, he left the deck. With a sigh, Margo turned and fell onto her back from exhaustion.
Orman burst through the doors, bee-lining for Sierra. Without a word he pulled her up onto her feet and before she knew what was happening, she felt another crack as he began to push her dislocated ribs back into place. With each adjustment Sierra winced, seething curses under her breath. Orman didn't act upon his usual rules for curses spoken in his arena, instead, he focused on Sierra's injuries, his face shadowed by some sort of expression the girls had never seen before.
"Margo, please take Sierra to the Hall and then report back to me immediately." Orman lifted Sierra's right side for Margo to support.
Taking hold of her sister, Margo made her way out of the training room and towards the Hall.
"You're in deep shit," Sierra uttered, once they were out of Orman's range of hearing.
"Tell me something I don't know." She rolled her eyes, a small smile forming on her face.