The day Emily and Elara had long awaited finally arrived. A royal decree summoned them back to court, and soon, they would be formally presented to the world. Their reintroduction filled the castle with energy, and the once-quiet halls now buzzed with life. Nobles, guards, and servants alike were awestruck by the presence of the two princesses, though envy lurked in the hearts of a few.
King Albert proudly introduced Emily to his ministers and the royal guards, speaking of her beauty and skill. Although he hinted at her prowess as a warrior, he kept her involvement in the recent battle a secret. The people were captivated by her grace and strength, for they had long believed that the Princess of Eldoria was the most beautiful woman in the land. But now, they whispered that Emily was not just a princess—she was a goddess of beauty and power.
Days passed, and Emily was granted access to the royal arena, a place where warriors tested their mettle. One afternoon, as the sun bathed the kingdom in golden light, Emily entered the arena dressed in practical white robes, her long blonde hair tied into a high ponytail. Her brothers, Adrian and Jade, were already dueling, their swords clashing with metallic fury as they fought to exhaustion.
The bell rang, signaling the end of their bout.
"It's a tie," the royal guard declared, as the two princes, drenched in sweat, caught their breath.
Adrian wiped his brow and turned to his brother with a mischievous grin. "Brother, why don't you duel with Emily next?"
Jade scoffed, his pride evident. Though Emily was his sister, he saw her as a mere woman, unworthy of a true warrior's challenge. "With her? Don't be absurd. She'll get hurt."
Emily's hopeful gaze faltered.
Adrian, sensing an opportunity, pressed further. "I think you're underestimating her, Jade. I challenge you. Let's see if she's as fragile as you think."
Jade's ego flared, and his sneer returned. "Fine. Let's see what you've got, little sister. I've heard you can handle a sword, but let's see if you can last even a minute."
Adrian stepped aside, and Emily took her place in the dueling ring, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword. Her heart raced, but her face remained composed. She knew this was more than just a sparring match—this was a test of honor.
The duel began with light, testing strikes. Emily moved defensively at first, blocking Jade's blows, studying his patterns. His attacks were heavy, forceful, but predictable. Each swing of his sword revealed his impatience, his underestimation of her skill. With every clash, Emily grew more confident, her movements more fluid.
Jade's frustration began to show as the minutes ticked by. Emily was not just holding her ground—she was outmaneuvering him. She had read his every move, and now she shifted from defense to offense. Her strikes were precise and calculated, driving Jade back with every swing of her blade.
The intensity of the duel grew, and soon, neither noticed the arrival of King Albert and his two queens. They watched from the shadows, the king's eyes gleaming with pride, while Queen Sienna's face darkened with fury. Her son, Jade, was struggling against his sister, and it was a bitter sight for her to endure.
As the duel stretched on, Emily's sword finally grazed Jade's arm, tearing his shirt. The humiliation in his eyes was palpable. His patience snapped. His eyes flared with a bright blue glow as he tapped into his elemental power. In a fit of rage, Jade ran his hand along the edge of his sword, imbuing it with magic.
He lunged at Emily with a force that far exceeded the limits of a sparring match. Emily, caught off guard by the sudden surge of power, barely had time to react. The magical impact of Jade's strike sent her flying across the arena. She hit the ground with a heavy thud, skidding to a stop. Pain shot through her shoulder as the old stitches from her war wound tore open, blood seeping into the white fabric of her robes.
The arena fell silent.
"The match is over. Princess Emily has been defeated," the royal guard announced, though even he seemed hesitant, as if unsure of the outcome.
Before anyone could react, King Albert's voice thundered through the arena, commanding attention. "No."
All eyes turned to the king, his gaze locked on Jade. "Emily was not defeated," he said coldly. "You cheated."
Jade, still seething, spat back, "Surprising the enemy is part of being a warrior."
"True," the king replied, his voice calm but firm, "but a warrior does not rely on dishonor. You were meant to fight with skill, not underhanded tricks. Victory earned through deception is no victory at all."
Queen Sienna, her face a mask of calm though rage simmered beneath the surface, interjected softly, "Your Majesty, it was only a sparring match. Both of them will learn from this."
King Albert's expression softened as he turned his gaze to Emily, who was slowly rising to her feet, blood staining her side but determination still in her eyes. "Emily fought with honor. Jade, you would do well to remember that true strength lies not in brute force but in integrity."
Jade's jaw clenched, but he said nothing, his eyes darting away from his father's stern gaze.
The tension in the arena was thick as Emily, despite her injury, stood tall. She had not won the duel, but she had earned something far greater—her father's respect and the admiration of all who witnessed her courage.
*
The Awakening
Night had settled over the kingdom, the castle quiet as its occupants retreated to their chambers. After the chaos of the day—the battle, the confrontation with Jade, and the unexpected surge of her powers—Emily finally sought solace in the privacy of her room. Her shoulder throbbed, the reopened wound a constant, painful reminder of her near-victory in the arena.
Two maids soon entered, moving in their quiet, graceful manner, here to assist with her evening bath. Emily's expression remained unreadable as she addressed them.
"Just wash my hair. I can manage the rest myself," she said, her voice steady but laced with exhaustion.
They bowed and began their task. Emily, draped in a white towel that barely covered her thighs, leaned back against the marble slope, her head tilted back, and her golden hair spilling freely behind her. The maids worked quickly, their fingers threading through her hair, massaging oils into it as her body reclined, exposed to the cool night air. The rhythmic motion of their hands might have been soothing on another day, but tonight, Emily's mind was a storm of thoughts.
Once the maids finished, she dismissed them with a nod. Alone at last, Emily stood and let her towel fall, stepping into the large bath pool. Warm water embraced her skin, offering temporary comfort to her aching muscles. As she lowered herself into the bath, she closed her eyes and let her mind drift. She hoped to find peace, if only for a moment.
But peace would not come.
A faint ripple disturbed the surface of the water. At first, she ignored it, but the sensation grew more insistent. Emily's eyes snapped open, and her heart skipped a beat—half the water was no longer in the pool. It was suspended above her, hovering in the air, twisting and curling as though alive.
Panic seized her chest. She gasped, her body glowing with a faint, golden light that radiated from beneath her skin. The water reacted to her, moving as if obeying an unseen command. She stood up in shock, stepping out of the pool, but the water followed, clinging to her like an obedient servant. It swirled around her, thickening and pulsating as though it were more than just liquid.
Emily's mind raced as she backed toward the door. Her glowing body illuminated the dim room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The water, now infused with her power, moved with her, as if it recognized her as its master. But something was wrong—terribly wrong. The blood from her reopened wound had mixed with the water, and it was becoming volatile, merging with the glowing liquid and forming a threatening sphere above her.
This isn't normal. I'm losing control.
The realization hit her hard. Her powers, long dormant and untested, were awakening in ways she hadn't anticipated. The water was no longer just water—it had become something more, something dangerous. She could feel its hunger, its desire to destroy. And she knew it was reacting to her fear, feeding off her emotions.
She had to stop it before it spiraled out of control.
With trembling hands, Emily grabbed a dagger from the nearby table. Her breath came in short gasps as she cut her palm, allowing blood to pool in her hand. She stared at the water, now forming a larger, more menacing sphere above her, its surface rippling with unnatural energy.
Her eyes glowed brighter, flecks of gold flickering within their depths. She raised her bleeding hand, palm upward, and channeled her power into the blood. Slowly, the droplets in her hand began to coalesce into a small, pulsating orb—a concentrated essence of her own blood and power. She could feel the tension in the air, the pressure building as the water orb hovered ominously before her.
Focus, Emily. Control it.
With a deep breath, she forced the blood orb into the floating water. The two forces collided with a sharp, unnatural sound, and in an instant, the room exploded in a violent cascade of water. The once-contained sphere shattered, sending streams of water crashing against the walls, soaking everything in its path.
Emily stumbled back, gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest. The room fell silent again, save for the steady drip of water falling from the soaked ceiling and walls. Her body no longer glowed, and the once-threatening water had returned to its natural state, harmless and still.
But before she could fully collect herself, a knock came at the door.
"My lady, is everything alright?" one of the maids called, her voice filled with concern. They must have heard the violent splash.
Emily closed her eyes for a moment, steadying her breath before answering. "Yes... yes, everything's fine," she replied, though her voice betrayed the turmoil she felt inside.
As she glanced around the room, now drenched in water and chaos, she realized that this was only the beginning. Whatever power had been dormant within her was awakening—and with it, the dangerous potential she had yet to fully understand.
She would need to learn to control it. Because next time, she might not be so lucky.