Wield The Sword Like No Other

Everyone knew better than to fraternise with the Deveraux twins. They were born enemies.

They had the same father but different mothers. On the morning of June 17th, King Vailant chose to witness the birth of his son, Drystan; yet ironically he grew more proud of his daughter, Riona, who was born that very same evening. They were total opposites. Drystan was light in colour, his hair a dirty blond while Riona was dark. Her wings were a deep brown, the colour you would associate with moths, rather than royal butterflies. She was spindled from the dark side of the royal bloodline, without a doubt. She was meant to be an outcast.

In the world of butterfly people, everyone is alluring, yet faults would always be created. Wings would be ripped off and ears chopped off — a vicious community for young souls to grow up in. I remember it clearly. Riona's first flight lesson, she fell... Someone had pushed her. Her screams pierced through the air, soon silenced in a particular person's arms. He was a young boy, Vance Venetus, son of the king's closest guard. The princess was in awe of that egotistical git. He had swept her off her feet and from then on they were inseparable.

I, however, was no less of a halfwit myself. I sat next to the firebrand of mischief himself on the first day of school. All children of the court were forced to go and I had thought it to be smart to befriend someone who despised it as much as I did. Though, this troublemaker Drystan was actually into sticking his nose between the endless pages of literature. Drystan would stir up a mess during the day and read upon hours at night. He was intelligent, far more than I was, so I reached out a hand to seal my fate with the devil himself.

At the ripe age of 8, the twins were first given wooden sticks. "Every fighter has to start from the ground," Vance's father would say, daring to beat the prince to his knees. Drystan was a fighter but soon it was revealed that only one of the twins would evolve to be a slayer, which was Riona. She had a natural talent in combat. The King was pleased, thus she earned her spot as favourite in his heart. From then on, Riona would practice endlessly to keep his approval...

I felt sympathy: I had never seen someone as desperate to thrive at the top as she was.

I admired her, but not as much as I admired Drystan. If he could not win on her level, he made sure to find one where he could. The prince found victory in the art of strategy. He learnt to see past defences and armour. Pretty soon, he could even see through people.

I never truly grew to understand either of them. One thing was for certain: They were linked by their lust for power between their rivalry. It was to be expected since all royals have always been enemies for the throne. They, however, were on an entirely other level.

I knew better than to fraternise with the Deveraux twins, yet I allowed myself to be pulled in all because of those eyes.