In the forgotten legends of Velmoria, the Forbidden Twin Flower bloomed only once every thousand years—two stems from one root, identical yet destined never to touch. It was said that should both blossoms awaken at once, the world would fracture from the strain of their mirrored fates.
One would carry the weight of life, the other the echo of death; one would blossom under the sun, radiant and golden; the other will absorb the moon, pale and shadowed, and together they would stand at the crossroads of kingdoms, gods, and ruin. Thus, whenever the flower was found, one bloom was always plucked… and the other left to mourn in silence
**They Died for Us—J.T Peterson**
Ember had been rooted in delirious daze since she woke up on the galloping horse of the ever silent knight of debt.
Her head throbbed badly. And even though she quite remembered clearly that Viktoria rescued her from the flames, then took her to the Knight of Debts, she just felt out of sorts. Like her brain had been stretched so thin from information overload, and a lack of actually processing much of the tragedies of that night.
Yet she felt strange. The silent Knight didn't exactly help matters when she tried asking him why she had fainted in the first place. For while she might have been drained from the night's events, she knew intimately how much she had struggled and protested to keep her eyes open no matter what should happen.
She remembered Rashel, her coven massacre, the frost drakes, the glacier orcs, but after that was the memory of her waking in the midst of the flames that consumed her people while Viktoria approached her and rescued her from the flames.
Ember remembered everything so clearly so why did she feel like she hit her head hard against a rock?
Was she forgetting anything? Or perhaps someone?
She let go of her nonsensical worries though the moment they reached a desolate place that seemed like an abandoned temple. Ember had half the mind to believe that Viktoria had rather entrusted her in the hands of the wrong knight, for why would he bring them to a place a crown princess certainly won't be seen living in… not to talk of the crown princess of the Huntsmen.
Wary and drained in every sense she asked him, "Where are we?"
"We are at the borderlands of the Seamen's territory." He answered flippantly.
"The borders of the Seamen?" Ember asked suspiciously, "should we not be at the land of the Huntsmen instead?"
This is where the crown princess stays." He answered curtly, and then began to march forward, uncaring for whether Ember followed or not.
Why would a crown princess be living in an entirely different territory? Even if it was her hometown, it was unusual for a crown princess to stay somewhere else other than the seat of power.
Begrudgingly, Ember followed the knight after seconds of failed contemplation, and from a distance watched as the knight instructed a young girl to inform the crown princess of their visit.
Was he truly being serious? The crown princess lived in a place like that? Why?
Few minutes later, a different kind of knight clad in terrifying blood red regalia approached them to inform them that the crown princess had no interest in seeing any of them. But the man froze short on seeing Ember…as if he was seeing a ghost.
But that night's strangeness didn't end there. A second later, a messenger clad in black from red to toe, exposing only his eyes, approached bearing a secret message for the woman Ember sought to take refuge from.
With the charged atmosphere, and the way things seemed to be happening rapidly, it was clear that they had come visiting at a very wrong time. She almost began to doubt her decision to rely on the crown princess when the blood red-clad knight approached them anew.
"Her highness will now see you," he said to the Knight of Debt and then began to lead the way. But the moment that Ember stepped into a room that reeked of herbal medicines and death, she knew instinctively that she had just landed in troubled waters.
She knew it from the way the attendants of the crown princess stared at her like they had seen a ghost. It was in the way their lips uttered prayers meant to ward off vengeful spirits.
But more than that, it was in the way the crown princess's sapphire blue eyes rested on her, conveying a sternness that was otherworldly and ethereal at the same time.
But that sternness soon faltered enough for hints of vulnerability and bone-rooted shock to show.
Part of the reason Ember had been convinced to gamble on the crown princess was because she heard that the woman was young and in her twenties. Which was far younger than her own mother.
Her naive logic was that a young crown princess would be less domineering than the matriarchs Ember was used to in the coven of the Azure Witches.
And yet, in the matter of exuding cold blooded authority, Crown Princess Serpentine Andal Thorne exceeded in the art far better than Ember's mother even though she was more than ten years younger.
Clad in a black gown that contrasted with her pale skin, it was clear that the Crown Princess was not one to be messed with. Regal authority naturally flowed from her in droves and it had nothing to do with the haughty manner in which her silver white hair was pinned on her head.
Nor did it have anything to do with the way her jaw ticked like she was trying to make sense of Ember's presence.
And while the knight of debt greeted her and made the introduction, the woman's eyes never left Ember. And without doubt, she knew the woman appraised her so intensely.
For what reason, Ember could not ascertain. Could she have made the wrong gamble?
Her doubts remained even when the crown princess agreed to the Knight of Debts request without a single objection. And it was barely a second when the knight had left when the crown princess coldly commanded that all in the room make their exit and give them privacy.
Privacy?
A different kind of fear started to pump through Ember's veins but she straightened herself otherwise. Since she had made this gamble, she would see it through the end.
There was no way she would quit mid way. Not like it was remotely possible to do so at that point.
The woman approached her, a visceral raw emotion etched to her face. "Tell me girl, who exactly are you?!" She growled, causing Ember to flinch ever so slightly.
Forcing a smile on her wary face, Ember swept an enigmatic bow at the woman. "Before you is Ember AshFall, greeting you your highness." She said, not quite knowing if she got her courtesy right, "forgive me for not showing my respect earlier."
But instead of the reaction that Ember was chasing, all she got was the woman gasping, tears pooling in her eyes as if she couldn't comprehend something about her.
Ember's unease grew, and without actually meaning it, she stared straight to the bed behind the crown princess. It seemed like a figure laid on it, but strangely the person was covered from head to toe with a white cloth.
The same way a dead person would be covered.
Her stomach dropped as her unease grew. A dead person? Surely not. But the unmistaken thick aroma of herbs signified that someone very sick had been tended to. And the woman who stood before her looked quite healthy so the sick person must be another….
"Why did your mother never say anything about you?" The crown princess said, totally disregarding her greetings.
Ember's expression fell at that, but no matter her unease she knew she owed an explanation to the woman whom she was now seeking refuge from.
"I…I am an Echo Witch. A disgrace to the Azure Witches. My mother had no choice but to keep my existence a secret by demoting me to the status of a servant."
Almost immediately, the woman snatched her hand, examining the hard planes that were evidence of the hard life that she led. A life that was certainly not fitting for the daughter of a high priestess.
Her furtive sapphire blue eyes rooted Ember in place who couldn't for the life of her understand the woman's agitation. Why was everyone being so strange? She was sensible enough to understand that something was going on. And it almost seemed to be connected with her appearance. But she could swear that she had never seen those people before in her life.
"You've rough hands…." the crown princess muttered like a deranged woman. Then she tugged at Ember's hair although not harshly. "I never had a reason to think about it, but it's true that the ancestral AshFall's have the same hair colour as the Thorne's of the Huntsmen clan."
Ember blinked multiple times, lost as to her ramblings. But her confusion did not stop the crown princess from tugging her closer by the neck until Ember was almost in her face.
"Those same strange grey eyes. Like ash… how… how is this possible." She continued muttering, a tear rolling down her face much to Ember's horror. Even though it was rather obvious her tears had nothing to do with pain, but more of shock, she still didn't understand why.
Then next thing, the crown princess released her abruptly, backing away from her with eyes filled with confusion until her body hit the bed behind her.
As if stuck in a horror opera, Ember watched as she slowly whirled around as if to confirm something of the figure on the bed. Then slowly, she tugged down the white cloth, only for Ember to behold that the figure she had been curious of was none other than a girl who bore her face.
Except the girl looked far feverish. And pale. And dead. But that was about the difference.
Unable to take any more shock that night, Ember's legs gave away under her and she slipped into another coma.