Di looked out her window. A harsh, red light illuminated her lithe figure. The Third Storm had once again descended upon her kingdom.
Glowing runes danced among the violet clouds like a swarm of buzzing, red insects; hazy figures flew within the storm. It hummed and cackled like a living thing—Di hummed along. She pushed against the window and twirled, gracefully landing in her bed, squealing in excitement before letting out a long sigh. She laid in her bed entertaining dreams of glory. Dreams of battle. Dreams of respect.
Clink, clank, clunk—the sound of armor making its way up the steps to her room spurred the girl into action.
Within moments, she stood in front of a large mirror. Donning a full set of armor, radiant and pristine—shining like gold—she admired the imposing figure in the mirror. Her pauldrons jutted upwards, forming outward-facing crescents. Smooth golden metal encased her form with such precision it could be mistaken for skin. Di huffed and raised her fist, beating it twice against her breastplate. Blinding light filled the room, then dimmed to reveal two shining spheres cradled in the crescent moons—they were small for now, but Di hoped that after today they would blaze like miniature suns.
A knock at the door snapped the girl's attention away from herself; she sprinted to the door and came to a grinding stop in front of it.
"Di," a voice called, "I assume you're decent." It sighed loud enough for the girl to hear, before opening the door.
"Mother!" Di couldn't contain her excitement and performed a salute. She put her feet together. Rested her left hand at her side. And raised her right, pounding it against her chest twice; the spheres flickered out of existence.
"Di," her mother crossed her arms, "why must we go through this time after time?"
Di's expression morphed into confusion, "What? No–no, I'm ready. I'm ready Mother! I promise! I–I…"
"You will be ready when I will it! A Shatterstorm isn't your ticket to becoming queen, girl! It isn't anything but death as you are." Her mother snapped and turned away, "You are to stay here, in your room. Rayat and Lorel will stand guard outside your door. Feel free to play with your Sunskin. It's my job to ensure it won't see bloodshed until you are ready." Without waiting to hear Di's protest, she walked away, the guards silently closing the door behind her.
Di stood alone in her room, ready for a battle that wouldn't come.
***
Di looked out her window. Demons rained from the clouds, flames blazed from below, far into the storm.
She gazed at the battles taking place across the kingdom. She imagined herself taking part in—no—leading those battles. She dreamed of her triumphant return to the castle, her subjects staring in awe.
She sighed and plopped into her bed. The next storm wouldn't arrive for another eight months—by then she would be sixteen. The girl tossed and turned before screaming into her pillow. "You'll be ready when I say so." She mocked.
The sound of armor shuffling around interrupted her, then a knock at the door. "I'm fine!" she shouted. What was the point of having guards stationed outside her door if the demons wouldn't make it that far in the first place?
Another knock at the door. "I said I'm fine!"
The guards burst into her room. "Princess!" Rayat cried, "Put on your Skin, hurry!"
Di stared at the guards, "What–" Ignoring the disrespect they had shown her, unease and worry oozed from their actions. Lorel stomped to the window and shut the curtains; light sputtered into existence around the room. Rayat ran to draw the screen of the changing room.
"Come, now! We must make haste!" Rayat gestured to the dressing room, "Y–your highness."
"Why? What is going on?"
Lorel walked to the foot of the bed and kneeled, "An unidentified force is using the storm as a distraction to mount an assault on the mines. We have been ordered to escort you to the war chamber."
…
Di laughed, "I thought you two knew better than to joke at such a time." They had to be joking—who would dare attack them?
It couldn't be the Marronites to the west; they were pacifists—as passive as one could be in a world ravaged by monsters. It couldn't be the Saluvians to the south; they only ever left their precious libraries to defend against Shatterstorms. The Kikko to the east had their own issues to deal with lately, and they would have seen the Nomads coming from miles away, so it couldn't be either. And the royal bloodlines of those nations could never match up to the raw power of the Light bloodline. The only bloodline Di could think of with power rivaling her own was that of the warriors of the Last Bastion, but they had a sworn duty to the world, and they were resolute in that if nothing else.
She cleared her throat and straightened her posture in an attempt to project an air befitting royalty. "Still, I have to thank you two for trying to cheer me up. You may return to your posts."
Rayat stamped her foot; Di and Lorel flinched at the outburst. "Princess! Please," she begged, "this is not a joke. You must put on the Skin and you must follow us to the war chamber, the queen and prince are on the way there as we speak."
Di opened her mouth, but a thundering boom forced it shut. The castle shook and dust fell from the ceiling. Di looked back and forth between the two guards after the rumbling stopped before jumping into action.
In moments, she'd donned a full suit of armor and together, they flew down the steps leading away from Di's bedchamber.
Lorel spoke as they moved, "The attackers are currently being held at the gates, but a group broke off, choosing to make their way down the rift directly. The third and fourth Sunseekers are fighting them as we speak. Their main objective seems to be securing a large amount of hemolith."
Before Di could comprehend the situation, the group had made their way to a large hallway, a few turns away from the war chamber. But behind them, a staircase leading down to the dungeon and providing access to the mines.
Di looked at the backs of her guards, their measured steps echoing through the hall. She stopped.
Rayat and Lorel kept walking forward as Di turned around.
Dreams of glory—dreams of respect flooded her mind.