Six months ago…
One drop. Two, then, three. Then, one again. The drops weren't synchronized. Nyssa sighed, giving up as she flung herself on the grass.
"This is hopeless," she muttered, glaring at the sad little blob she had tried to shape.
"Sister! Sister!"
Her head shot up. Gavriel came sprinting across the field, with his red hair bouncing and cheeks flushed from excitement.
"Sister!"
"Gav-!"
He launched straight into her arms, and she wasn't braced for impact. They toppled straight into the puddle, cold water splashing up her neck.
"Gav!" She glared, feeling herself drip. "Look what you did. We're soaked."
He fluttered his lashes dramatically and giggled.
Nyssa groaned, but laughter tugged at her lips too. How could she stay mad at him with all his cuteness?
"Sister, look!" He unsheathed a sword with a flourish far too bold for a nine-year-old.
Nyssa froze. "What… Gav, that's.."
"I passed the training!" he blurted, a proud grin stretching from ear to ear. "Father gave it to me!"
Nyssa gasped and crushed him into a hug. "My boy! I knew you could do it."
She pressed a kiss to his temple as warmth bloomed in her chest.
"I'll be a great warrior. And I'll protect you!" He declared, puffing his tiny chest.
She chuckled softly. "You'll protect the kingdom too. Now show me your best moves."
His eyes sparkled. "Okay!"
He backed up, sword raised, then-
"Hya!"
A smooth, leftward swing. His feet planted and he stood steady.
Nyssa applauded loudly, and he glowed under the praise, eager to impress her with more. She watched him with a soft, aching fondness. He was only nine, yet already manipulating fire, moving objects with his mind, mastering sword drills her tutors would still scold her for forgetting.
Eighteen years old, and she couldn't form a simple water orb. Her eyes drifted to the murky puddle beside her. Another failed attempt.
A sigh escaped her lips as she drew her knees close to her chest.
"That's my son. A true royal blood," her father had said one time during her brother's training and Nyssa had looked at him subtly. She wondered if he thought otherwise of her.
All her life, she had been told one thing, "You're weak." Not out of cruelty, but out of concern. She had developed a frail body after a sickness that nearly claimed her life when she was just a year old.
Her parents had done all they could, but it proved abortive. They worried that their baby girl would die.
The priest, physicians and even a Healer, were called on her case, but they all said the same thing, "She cannot make it."
Her father had turned distraught. He couldn't lose his firstborn child. And then one night, after an unexpected fever that ceased her breath, her father impulsively rushed out of the kingdom on one of the royal horses, straddling her in his arms. He cried on the way in grief of losing his daughter.
He then stopped at the bank of the river after he had rode a reasonable distance. If the Heavens had decided to take her away from him, then he would give her back to them. He placed her on the river back, weeping uncontrollably under the light of the full moon at the thought of putting her in the water.
But what astonished him moments later, was when he heard her voice,
"P..a.. pa."
His head shot up and he was shocked to see her, sitting upright as she reached out to him with her tiny hands.
"Papa." She said again and he couldn't believe it. Her once pale complexion had turned rosy and she was breathing fine. She had been healed…
He looked up to the sky as he went on his knees. It was as if the moon had healed her.
It was a whole miracle in the kingdom of Trontine. The dying princess had been brought back to life. Celebrations lasted for a week at the good fortune, but Nyssa's body never remained the same. Although she never fell ill again, her magic strength dwindled.
As a royal born, your magic capabilities were far greater than that of others, but hers was weak. She tried so many times to manipulate fire and she always failed. Unfortunately when she was nearly burned by a flame, her father forbade her from ever trying it again.
She had cried several times to her mother about how useless she thought herself to be and her mother was always saddened. The little girl was taking much upon herself.
"You aren't useless my child. You are our good fortune. Ever since your birth, our kingdom has been flourishing."
Nyssa tried to believe her. Truly.
But it was hard when the royals were expected to shine brighter than the rest of the world, and she could barely flicker.
As she grew older, more eyes followed her . Her emerald eyes, bright red hair, her beauty drew attention to her like she was pollen. Her father paraded her before nobles like a prized jewel. Knights whispered and admired from afar, but none dared hope.
"It's tradition," her mother would say gently. "You are a princess."
Tradition or not, it felt suffocating.
At twelve, she discovered she could speak to animals . A strange, small gift, but hers to cherish. Although she heard whispers of people calling it 'an irrelevant ability', it only surged her hopes of getting stronger in the future.
And so she tried all over again to practice magic, but this time, with the element water. But it still failed and her thoughts of being a failure triumphed.
Now she was of age to get married and she felt like her life was slipping out of her control, not that it had ever been. Her father wanted her to marry royalty and no one else, rejecting all the proposals from imperial knights and noblemen.
Nyssa agreed to her father's words. She couldn't even say anything because she actually didn't want to get married, not yet. But she couldn't tell her parents that. She was already a failure. She didn't want to disappoint them more.
"Sister!"
Gavriel's voice snapped her out of spiraling thoughts. He flopped onto the grass beside her, his red hair wild and sweat glistening on his forehead.
"You looked far away. What were you thinking?" he asked.
She forced a smile. "Nothing."
He stared at her with a knowing squint.
You're lying, his face practically said.
Then, a voice interrupted.
"Your Highness, Princess Nyssa. Your Highness, Crown Prince Gavriel." The knight assigned to guard Nyssa , Eugene, appeared with a bow.
"The King has called for your presence in the Throne Room."
Nyssa frowned. "Did he say why, Eugene?"
"No, my Princess. I'm only acting on orders."
Nyssa sighed, standing up. "Let's go, Gav."
Gavriel twitched his lips. "It's probably another suitor again."
Nyssa smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's not a bad thing. It's for the good of the Kingdom."
"You know you are terrible at lying, right? I know you don't want this marriage."
Nyssa slightly gasped. How…?! She sighed. She underestimated him.
"It doesn't matter, Gav. Let's go," she walked out heading into the palace, with her knight and brother trailing behind. She gripped her skirt as her nerves had begun acting up.
It's going to be fine, Nyssa. It's going to be.
She thought to calm her dancing nerves, but little did she know their ruin was approaching.