Blades of Desire

As the night deepened and the moon shone with radiance, the Princes decided to train under the night sky. Instead of retiring to their chambers, they chose to walk to the training grounds, the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet echoing through the stillness.

The moon cast long shadows across the castle walls as they strolled, its silvery light illuminating the path ahead. The air was crisp and cool, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant tang of metal from the armor.

As they approached the training grounds, the sound of clanging steel and muffled grunts grew louder, mingling with the night air. The Princes exchanged a glance, their faces set with determination, and stepped onto the moonlit training grounds, ready to face whatever challenges the night might bring.

"It's been a while since I last trained," Keiran said, examining the wooden stick in his hand. He and his brothers, Orion and Kaius, used to train together when they were young, but Keiran's interest in sword fighting had waned over time. As a Prince of Everia, it was essential to be skilled in swordsmanship, which was why King Harold was disappointed in his son for giving up.

Kaius, noticing his brother's rusty skills, offered words of encouragement. "You're a quick learner, Keiran. I have no doubt you'll become a formidable opponent in no time." He smiled, trying to rekindle his brother's passion for sword fighting.

Keiran chuckled, finding his brother's confidence amusing. "I was your better when we were young, but do you really think you're the best swordsman in the kingdom?" He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "There may be talented individuals we're not aware of, perhaps not even among the warriors."

Kaius shrugged, unfazed by his brother's teasing. "We'll see about that. Now, let's focus on your technique. Hold the stick like this," he demonstrated, guiding Keiran's hand into position. "Remember, balance and footwork are key. Try to keep up with me."

With that, the training session began, the princes clashing sticks in a flurry of movement. Keiran stumbled, struggling to keep pace with Kaius's swift strikes. His brother offered words of encouragement, correcting his technique and urging him to try again.

As they trained, the moon cast its silvery glow over the grounds, illuminating the princes' determined faces. The sound of clashing wood and heavy breathing filled the night air, punctuated by occasional laughter and words of advice.

As they continued their intense training session, a sudden flash of movement caught Kaius's attention. An arrow shot forth from the nearby bushes, hurtling towards Prince Keiran's forehead with deadly precision. Without hesitation, Kaius swiftly raised his wooden stick, using his quick reflexes to deflect the arrow mere inches from Keiran's face. The arrow veered off course, embedding itself into a nearby tree trunk with a loud thud.

Immediately alarmed, Kaius positioned himself in front of his brother, shielding him. His sharp eyes scanned the direction the arrow had come from, every muscle in his body tensed for action. If he had been even a moment slower, Keiran would have been struck dead, and the weight of that thought gnawed at him.

For a tense moment, they waited in silence, the forest eerily still, as if holding its breath. No movement stirred the surrounding foliage. Kaius, determined to secure their safety, gestured for his brother to stay close. With measured steps, he moved forward, his body a shield for Keiran, who followed hesitantly. They approached the bushes cautiously, Kaius's hand gripping the hilt of his sword fastened to his waist tightly.

As they neared the thick undergrowth, a sudden twang of a bowstring shattered the silence. Kaius moved instinctively, but this time he wasn't fast enough. An arrow grazed his arm, leaving a searing trail of pain. He hissed but didn't falter. From the shadows emerged two masked female warriors, their faces obscured but their intentions clear. Each held a gleaming sword that caught the faint light filtering through the trees. Their movements were precise and calculated, exuding deadly confidence.

Without hesitation, they charged.

Kaius raised his sword just in time to parry the first strike, the clash of steel ringing in the air. Sparks flew as he blocked and countered, his movements fluid but strained. The second assassin darted toward Keiran, who stumbled backwards, barely managing to avoid a slash aimed at his chest. Kaius gritted his teeth, forced to divide his attention between fending off the skilled attacks of his opponent and protecting his brother.

The fight was fierce and unrelenting. The assassins moved with a synergy that was both mesmerizing and deadly. One would strike high, while the other aimed low, forcing Kaius into a near-impossible dance of defence. He took a deep cut to his side but refused to let it slow him down. His swordsmanship was formidable, each swing and parry a testament to years of training. Yet the odds were against him.

Keiran, though no fighter, did his best to help. He grabbed a fallen branch and swung wildly at the assassin targeting him. It was clumsy and ineffective, but it bought Kaius a precious second to lunge forward and intercept the attack.

The clash of swords echoed through the forest, alerting the guards stationed at the nearby palace. As the alarm bells rang out, the assassins' demeanour shifted. They exchanged a glance and, without a word, attempted to retreat. Kaius, bloodied but determined, wasn't about to let them go so easily. He pressed forward with renewed vigour, driving them back step by step.

The assassins were relentless, their skill evident in every calculated movement. Kaius barely managed to keep up, his injuries slowing him down, but he fought with a ferocity born of desperation. He couldn't afford to fail, not when his life and that of his brother were on the line.

Just as reinforcements from Everia arrived, surrounding the assassins in a tight circle, the fight reached its peak. The soldiers, swords drawn, ordered the intruders to surrender. The assassins, however, showed no sign of yielding. Their eyes, visible through their masks, burned with defiance.

With a display of impeccable teamwork, one assassin feinted toward Kaius, drawing his attention, while the other darted straight for Keiran. The younger brother, unprepared and too slow to react, was seized in a brutal grip. Kaius roared in frustration, attempting to break through the line to save his brother, but the second assassin engaged him, skillfully keeping him at bay.

"Hold your ground!" Kaius shouted to the soldiers, who hesitated to act, unwilling to risk Keiran's life.

The assassins began to retreat, using Keiran as a shield to protect themselves from the approaching guards. Their movements were calculated and deliberate, ensuring that no one could get close without endangering the hostage. They moved in perfect sync, their footsteps light and swift as they navigated the dense underbrush. Just before disappearing into the dense forest, one of them turned slightly, her gaze locking onto Kaius with an unnerving intensity. She spoke in a cold, unwavering tone, her voice dripping with malice

"We will be back."

And then they were gone, leaving behind a trail of devastation and unanswered questions.

Kaius sank to his knees, his sword slipping from his grip. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his blood stained the ground beneath him. He had failed to protect Keiran and was a few mistakes away from losing his own life, and the weight of that failure threatened to crush him. But even in his despair, resolve hardened within him. This wasn't over, not by a long shot.

**********************************************

A magnificent building stood shrouded in darkness, its grandeur illuminated only by the moon's silky glow seeping through the windows. Inside, four mysterious female warriors gathered in secret, their faces obscured by the shadows. Each warrior wore a flowing black cloak, clasped at the shoulder with a silver brooch, and a sword hung their side, its hilt glinting with intricate designs that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight.

The leader, a woman with long, flowing black hair that danced in the gentle breeze, spoke with an air of authority. "Who did we send this time?" Her voice was low and mysterious, her features hidden behind a veil of darkness.

A woman with curly blonde hair, her physique honed from years of battle, replied from across the room. "We sent two of the Iron Sisters. Their blades are tempered with steel and their souls are forged in battle; they will not falter." Her tone exuded confidence, but her face remained shrouded in mystery.

The leader's gaze swept across the room, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. "Let this be clear sisters: if the Iron Sisters fail to eliminate the Princes this time, we will not entrust this mission to anyone else. We will take matters into our own hands and we will not rest until the deed is done." Her voice dropped to a whisper, heavy with menace. "For we are the ones they fear, the ones they cannot defeat and soon, the princes will be ours to claim."