Cateline was sitting outside at a stone table, doodling patterns across the top idly while waiting for Aiora. She was told to meet bright and early but little did Cateline know how tardy the fellow witch was. Not long after the sun had risen did Cateline make her way down, and only after what she could only assume was two hours did Aiora and her group of friends arrive. She huffed towards them, her brows furrowed, and her face turned into a grimace.

“You surely meant bright and early in the most literal context possible,” Cateline said silently with crossed arms.

Aiora flashed a brow and set her bag down, shooting a sickeningly sweet smile towards the Princess, “I am not one to take part in living life so literally, Princess. Loosen up a little, today will be a spell of fun.”

Cateline felt her shoulders slacken at the sound, the word ‘fun’ was never really that prevalent in her life. As a member of the Royal Family of Axulran, she was to be quiet and courteous, it just so happened that having fun was never quite mixed with those set of morals. With a sigh, she coolly responded, “What is it you have planned for today?”

Aiora looked behind her, watching as the satyr and man bickered quietly amongst each other. Cateline peered around her arm, watching the dark-haired man point his finger towards him, his lips curled downwards in discontentment. The satyr, unconventionally, responded to his anger with a snicker and shook his words off.

“Do they always act like children?” The Princess asked silently.

“More often than not; the brat of a man is Varin. His satyr counterpart, Thaddius, knows how to pull all the right strings to get a response out of him.”

Cateline let out a puff of a laugh, standing to her feet and brushed some dirt off her gown. As Aiora moved into the center of the courtyard to get set up, Cateline noticed her pants and blue velvet top. With a tilt of her head, she folded her hands in front of her torso and whispered, “Aiora, your gown. Where is it?”

Aiora slowed her movements and looked at the Princess like she was crazy. Before she could respond, the silvery haired girl let an outcry of laughter slip past her lips, only ceasing when she lifted her hand to cover her mouth. Once composed, she said, “I’m sorry. You’ve probably never seen a woman wear pants in her life, have you?”

Cateline shook her head, wide-eyed and baffled any woman would wear the guise of a man, it was unheard of in Axulran, and quite frankly just seemed odd to the Princess.

“I see,” Aiora muffled another laugh, “Well, dear, you’ll have to wear pants one day, too. One can’t fight with the skirt of a dress dragging behind her.”

“Fight?”

“After I am done toying around with you, Varin challenged me to a duel. He thinks he can best me.”

Cateline hummed and lowered her stare, biting the inside corner of her cheek in an attempt to appease the endless questions.

What does it feel like to have your legs covered like that? Cateline wondered to herself, her eyes wandering across the pale girls’ legs. The fabric was tight and fitting, wrapping around each calf with a string tied along the sides. Her eyes moved to her own attire, picking at the fabric of the blue dress curiously. Surely, pants could not provide much agility when it came to battle? Then again, it was not often you saw a man run into battle in a dress.

After a few moments, Aiora rubbed her hands together and eyed the creation she had made. Varin, Thaddius, and Cateline stood behind her, each with cocked heads.

“Where did you get this, Aiora?” Thaddius asked first.

“Is it odd I find it to resemble a mutated child?” Varin chimed.

Cateline let out a chuckle, eyeing the sparring dummies with unease. The burlap dummy was tied with a rope, closing each bag that was stuffed with hay. She had two aligned side by side, only a few feet apart, their twig-for-arms smacking against each other as the wind blew softly. She picked the small pieces of hay that flew off the dummies and onto her face, poking her tongue out to grab the small fragments that found their way into her mouth.

“Quite the messy setup,” Cateline finally whispered with an insecure smile.

“But effective. You see, when hay burns, it is just gone. Poof, into the air it goes! Easy cleanup, Cateline.”

“Always the lazy one, Aiora,” Varin hummed. With a swift swing, Aiora knocked the boy upside the head, his own response an exclamation of curses.

He sulked away from the two girls, dragging Thaddius with him. With a sigh, she smiled towards Cateline and nodded her head, “Alright, remember what I said before? To find that fire within you?”

“I can see quite a bit in you already.”

“Yes, but unluckily enough for them, I was like that long before I harnessed my powers. I see a bit of fire in you, too.”

Aiora cracked her wrists before turning to face the dummies, reaching her hands out in front of her with flat palms. Slowly, her skin began to radiate, tiny embers jumping from one tip of her fingers to the other. This brought a smile to Aiora’s face, her eyes following each spark in concentration.

“Fire is a chaotic thing, Cateline. It can harm you as much as it can harm me, or those two fools sulking at their table. It causes nothing but pain and destruction, you must realize this.”

The Princess nodded, her throat closing at the thought of failing again. She mimicked Aiora’s stance, watching as her own hands shook with nerves. With each deep breath, her nerves grew worse.

“You mustn’t focus on the good during this, harness your anger. We all have that emotion within, even Princesses. If anger isn’t doing it for you, then focus on your passion. Let it fill your soul with the energy that is missing.”

She puckered her bottom lip out as she closed her eyes, wiggling her fingers to get the blood flowing. She tried to focus on her upset towards her parents, towards the situation she was placed in, and even towards how out of place she felt at Lighthelm. With each breath, her skin grew warmer. Cateline peeked an eye open, her mouth parting at the sight. The blue veins that once rested underneath her skin were now orange and red, glowing vibrantly underneath the bright morning sun. A mindless warmth had replaced the once infuriating burn from the previous attempt. Her skin, which was already pale underneath the harsh daylight, now radiated with the energy that was trapped within her. Cateline felt her stomach twist and turn, each rush of adrenaline that coursed through her created a dizzy feeling.

“What is happening?” Cateline uttered with discomfort. She wasn’t sure which she preferred, an internal third-degree burn, or a dizziness onset by fire coursing through her veins.

Aiora stared in awe, her eyes wide and her brows arched, “I’m not so sure, Cateline. You’re doing something right, but I’ve never seen anybody do this.”

It was then that something odd happened. One arm remained warm and radiant, whereas the other turned blue. The veins resembled their normal color beneath the skin, but the tips of her fingers began to cool and radiate an icy tone. Half of her body was on fire, and the other sat on ice. She sensed something within her chest snap, an excruciating feeling climbing from the bottom of her spine to the top. She howled out, falling to her knees as a feeling of paralysis shook throughout her spine. The arm with ice began to wrinkle as if she had been swimming far too long, whereas the one with fire boiled and welts began to form at the surface. A pulsating tremble shot throughout her temples, down her nose, and stopped in her chest. As she fell to her side, both ice and fire began to eat away at the grass around her.

The plumes suffocated the Princess, her lungs burning internally with the wrath of infernos. Something was critically wrong. As she cried out, she saw the group surround her in a panic. Thaddius attempted to stomp out the fire, whereas Varin slipped on the ice in a sore attempt to help in any way he could. Aiora rested her hand on the girl’s forehead, whispering something that was incoherently blinded by the ringing that overcame her senses. The competing elements consumed both sides of her in a feeling of torment, her spine lifting off the ground in an attempt to brush the fire away. To no avail, though, because the fire was not touching the Princess, it all resided within. Her blood was boiling as her skin froze, the chaos consuming the elements helplessly.

Slowly, the morning sun began to dim. What was once a clear sky was now as dark as the pummels of smoke arising from the burnt grass. Another set of hands rested on the Princess, and as all her senses began to decay into a state of nothingness, the mumblings of the group trailed off into the void of silence.