Anastasia trod down the grand stairs leading from her castle, her heels echoing through the silent corridors.
Click. Click. Click.
She reached the bottom and entered the Great Hall, the largest and most imposing place in her castle. The hall was somber and oppressive, filled with an aura of dark forces. Hundreds of candles were alight, yet the heavy shadows seemed to drink in their light. The old white pillars rose from floor to ceiling, their immense height made even more overwhelming by the gloom.
As Anastasia walked, the darkness swallowed her whole, leaving only the faint glow of her crimson eyes visible. Beams of light streamed through the stained-glass windows, occasionally illuminating her figure for only a split second.
At the other end of the hall stood a huge colored-glass door. Its surface was covered in an intricate pattern depicting a fragment of history.
Anastasia approached the door and gave it a gentle push. It creaked open slowly, flooding the hall with light and banishing the darkness that had concealed the gothic splendor of the architecture.
She stepped onto the grand balcony beyond. Walking toward its edge, she placed her hands on the railing and gazed out over the beautiful landscape.
After a moment, she closed her eyes, feeling the cool air wash over her.
For half a century, she had lived here.
She had never liked it, but she had no choice.
Since the day she was born, she had been adored by everyone, hailed as the newborn star of the kingdom. After her first year, her father, King Darius, summoned the most renowned mages from across the kingdom to teach little Anna magic.
They had high expectations for her.
As time passed, she proved herself beyond their expectations.
By the age of three, little Anna had learned to control magic. She had also inherited Blood Magic, a dark and powerful art passed down from her father.
Years went by as she trained tirelessly, honing her skills on the battlefield and in politics. By the age of twenty, Anna had mastered Blood Magic. She had reached a level comparable to the Five Generals, a feat achieved by only one other person...
Her older brother, Agnus.
Agnus, the firstborn child. The crown's jewel.
Unlike the rest of the family, he wasn't a mage.
No...
He was a swordsman.
From the day he was born, he had been enamored with the sword, training with it every day. By the age of ten, his skills rivaled those of a Royal Knight.
His fame and achievements spread like wildfire across the continent.
By the age of thirty, he had cemented his place as the greatest swordsman in history.
Anastasia opened her eyes.
"When our family hosted banquets and invited all the noble families to the castle, I was the center of attention, of course. But only when my brother wasn't there."
She lowered her gaze.
"In his presence, I was just... ordinary."
She paused for a long moment...