One - Fire
A hooded figure stood hidden in the shadows cast by the forest.
Watching the ongoing battle in the field below.
No face could be seen, to identify the person under the cloak.
Only a cloak darker than night and twin daggers, glinting around its middle, reflecting the rays of the sun shining through the trees.
The battle had been going on for two days now, soldiers retreating only at the sign of dawn, with promise to continue at dusk.
It was a battle between two brothers, kings and twins. Fighting for the same woman.
King Joffrey, the eldest, was well respected in his kingdom for his clear minded decisions and tactical warfare. His kingdom was well-guarded, the people, happy and free.
His brother King Xavier, was a tyrant. Harsh and cruel. Demanding respect throygh fear. His kingdom was so heavily fortified that it was nearly impossible to enter or leave the kingdom. A prison to those who resided there.
He too was skilled in combat. There are stories that tell, he is better than his brother...
This served to strain the relationship between the brothers, more.
At the sight of dawn, the battle had yet to cease.
The figure stepped forward into the light, drawing a bow from its back and two arrows from it’s quiver with inky fingertips.
It scraped the arrow heads on a boulder nearby, creating sparks to light the arrowheads on fire.
Aiming the now flaming arrows towards a catapult, the figure fired.
Striking the target.
The figure added two more arrows and shot it toward another catapult, drawing enough attention.
The battle ceased.
Soldiers and kings searched for the new arrival and the culprit of the destruction of their weapons.
Finally a soldier caught sight of the figure standing near the treeline,
“There” he shouted pointing to the figure.
The figure neared.
“Who goes there?” shouted King Joffrey.
The figure neared.
“Who goes there?” asked King Joffrey again.
The figure removed its hood.
A woman stood before them.
But not any woman.
It was her.
The one the were raised to fear.
An immortal. A witch. A demon.
A beautiful woman with hair whiter than snow in winter, and fire in her eyes burning brighter than the sun.
She wore strength and darkness equally well.
She was half heaven, half hell.
Her voice echoing through the field.
“I have a proposition for you, dear Kings.”
“Will you choose to listen?”