Heir of Light, Sister of Shadow

Chapter One

Lasina stared down her opponent, her grip firm on Feather Blade—a sleek, silver coloured sword with a golden handle, engraved with ancient sigils and delicate markings. It is a treasured family heirloom, passed down through the royal line. Elegant yet deadly, it symbolizes Lasina’s heritage. The blade shimmered faintly in the sunlight, almost too graceful for a weapon.

She exhaled slowly and charged, delivering a powerful strike with the precision of someone who found more comfort in steel than silk. Her opponent dodged, laughing as she pivoted out of reach. "Getting a little slow now, sister?" "Don’t get too cocky, Kara," Lasina retorted, her voice casual but laced with challenge. "Well Lasina, if the shoe fits…wear it." Kara replied with a smug lift of her brow.

Lasina lunged again, quicker than before, reacting to her sister’s taunt. The tip of Lasina’s blade slicing cleanly through the edge of Kara’s training leather just above the right knee. That was too close for Kara’s liking, she froze and stared Lasina down, her glare sharp enough to draw blood.

"You’re not using a training sword, you cretin," she snapped. "You almost took my leg off!" "Maybe move faster and you won’t get hurt." "Watch your tongue, you she-devil. I’m still your elder." Lasina grinned. "Only by a few minutes, besides I wouldn’t need to if you practiced more and read less."

"Oh, please. You wish you had even half the capability my books grant me," Kara huffed, adjusting her grip on her dull practice blade. "Remember, little cur, words are the most dangerous weapons. Especially in my hands" Kara gave a smug smirk. "Then dodge this with your words."

Lasina surged forward again, shoulder-checking Kara squarely in the chest. Her sister stumbled and fell hard onto the stone floor; her knees streaked with algae from the damp training floor. Kara caught herself on her left hand, scratching her palm on the stone. A laugh echoed across the courtyard.

"You really know how to act like princesses," a voice teased. Kara turned her glare toward the source, Kiran learning against a training dummy, his face full of laughter and amusement. "And you, Kiran, should learn your place when addressing royalty. I am not a ‘you’. I am Princess Kara of Moonsong, and you will show proper respect, or I will have you whi—"

"Ease up, Your Majesty," Lasina interjected, rolling her eyes as she nudged Kiran with a grin. "He was just joking. Honestly, Kara, you think way too highly of yourself sometimes."

"I do not need to hear anything from two mongrels," Kara hissed, brushing herself off. She stormed through the glass-and-wood doors at the edge of the courtyard, ornately carved with stars and moons, and vanishing into the palace beyond.

Kiran watched her go, then looked back at Lasina. "She really doesn’t like me, does she?" "Don’t take it personally," Lasina said, sheathing Feather Blade. "She doesn’t like anyone without royal blood in their veins."

"Sometimes I wonder if you two are even related. You’re so… different." Lasina smirked, tucking a loose strand of white hair behind her ear. "I wonder the same. But Mother says she took after our father, and I took after her."

Kiran picked up his practice sword with a sigh. "We should get back to it. If the Queen catches wind of us slacking, I’m a dead man." "You and I both," Lasina said with a wink. She twirled her sword lazily. "Have you noticed she’s been pushing us harder than usual lately?"

"I have. Even Jerren is questioning why the guard’s training schedule suddenly doubled. Maybe the Queen just wants everyone sharp." "Maybe," Lasina murmured, her brow furrowing.

"Sometimes she can be so obnoxious," Kara muttered, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she stormed down the east wing of the castle. "How can she call herself a princess, let alone a lady, when she acts like that? She is nothing but a brute. A brute with a thing for that peasant boy scum."

The hallway around her glowed with sunlight pouring through the towering glass windows. The light danced across the polished marble floor, so pristine it reflected like water. Not like the moss-covered marble in the training courtyard—that had left a green stain on her pants, and her pride.

She approached her chamber doors, towering oak, tastefully carved with the goddess Katama offering fruit to her people. "Well?" she snapped like a viper. "Yes, Princess," a guard answered, startled. "Normally, when royalty approaches, the door is opened immediately... Or has your lowly station made you forget your purpose? Open it now or I’ll find someone else who remembers how to serve."

"My apologies, Princess." "You're right, it is your apology. Fortunately, I’m under no obligation to acknowledge it." She swept past him with a scornful glare, chin lifting as if the very air offended her. Just as she entered, she spun back around. "Shut it… Shut the door!" Her voice echoed down the hall. "Oh, sweet Goddess Katama, why is everyone in this palace so incompetent?"

Kara’s chambers were her sanctuary—a testament to her taste, power, and wealth. The first room, her tea salon, was furnished in dark oak and cloaked in silks so rich it would shame other royalty. To the left lay her bathing chamber, with its grand square tub at the centre; to the right, her private study and cherished personal library, this was the heart of her domain. She loved knowledge and the best way was with books, scrolls and tomes.

Beyond the tearoom was her bedroom, with a towering bed fitted in the softest fabrics gold could buy. Tapestries lined every wall, some depicting Katama guiding her people, others painted scenes of nature in thread. Another showed Kara, Lasina, and their mother, arms loosely linked. But the one she loved most was the one above her bed. Just her. Dressed in a gown of blue and silver, black lace cascading behind her like a queen's shadow. She looked divine. She adored the finer things and she could afford them.

Peeling off her scuffed training clothes with distaste, she threw them aside, the servants would pick that up she thought. She strode to her wardrobe and pulled out a dress: pale blue with silky white undertones, lace sleeves, and soft green flower embroidery below the neckline, perfect for highlighting her emerald-green eyes and raven-black curls.

Next came the earrings, "but which ones." she thought out loud as she opened her jewellery box with care. Scanning the content of the box that was filled with wealth, she caressed the jewels with her fingertips and selected the jade earrings that her mother had given her on her eighteenth birthday, just two weeks ago. They were not as grand as the pendant Lasina had received—but elegant, dignified, appropriate.

"Run my bath... and be quick about it." she called out to the nearest servant, sometimes she wouldn't even notice the help as they were not important in her eyes. "I cannot be surrounded by slow hands and dull minds today." With that soft but cold demand the servant girl, with colourful ribbons in her blond hair, scurried with the dirty leather gear into the bathing chamber. "Princess Kara, your bath is ready."

The soft-spoken servant said as she bowed her head, still holding the dirty leather in her hands. "I do hope you will take that mess with you girl, do not leave it here to muck up the place." Kara said while standing up and not even looking at the servant, she was just a servant, why should she look at her. "Of course, Princess Kara, I will definitely take it and have it cleaned as soon as possible."

The soft spoken, colourful hair girl said with her head still in a deep bow. "Begone then, I will expect you back first thing when I am done to drain the bath." "As you wish, Princess Kara."

With her lavender scented bath drawn and her maid dismissed, Kara settled into the warm water and let herself imagine: what if things had been different? What if she had been the chosen one? She caught her reflection in the mirror beside the tub. Long black curls, deep green eyes—her father’s features, people always said. Not like Lasina, who had their mother's moon white hair and silver eyes. Lasina, who shared more than just her looks with the Queen,the Queen of Moonsong, her mother. The coldness. The power. The burden.

If only I had met him, Kara thought. If only I knew him. She'd heard the stories. Brave. Tall. Handsome. A war hero, with the same hair and eyes she wore now. Her mother never spoke much of him, but she did say one thing: Kara was her father’s daughter, Kara clung to that.

Because though she loved her mother, the Queen had always felt distant, more like a monument than a mother. As much as Kara longed for approval, she knew it was Lasina who wore the crown’s shadow.

At last, dressed and polished, Kara stood before the full-length mirror beside her wardrobe. She saw what others saw: beauty and pristine elegance. Her sharp almond eyes and slender build. The proud posture of a true elven princess. At least she had that. She was more beautiful than Lasina. More refined. More regal. The bell chimed in the distance. Straightening her back, she took one last glance, smiled tightly at her reflection, and swept from the room, gliding toward the dining hall like a true queen in waiting.