1 Fire Storm

"Do not hesitate, it only brings nothing more but death." A raspy stern voice instructed in a strict voice.

The young woman stood still in an unusually quiet sparring arena, with a black blindfold wrapped tightly around her eyes to ensure she couldn't see anything.

She let out a deep forced sigh, her shoulders relaxed and her fingers which could be seen from her bandaged hands wiggled easily.

"You speak like I am afraid of death." She spoke with pride, her eyes rolled in disdain beneath the blindfold .

"Your pride will be the death of you!" The raspy voice yelled in a offended voice. Her statement had angered him.

She scoffed.

"Ophelia Viadislav!" The voice yelled with rage.

"Hmm?" She asked nonchalantly.

Looking back, Ophelia wished she had been raised to be a prefect princess. Attending etiquette classes, attending balls for attention, gossiping about handsome, ugly, strong, and weak princes, and obsessing over dresses, shoes, and makeup.

Sigh. Nonetheless, she was still a princess, but her title, 'Princess Ophelia Viadislav,' was vastly different. Instead of taking etiquette classes, she had been taking sword fighting classes since she could walk and had been beaten to near death when she failed. She could now handle any weapon. She could basically turn anything into a weapon. Instead of seeking attention, she went to balls as an assassin. And as for gossiping, it couldn't be called that when she needed to know everything about someone because they were her targets to kill. Dresses, shoes, and makeup were all normal things for her to think about. Maybe.

"Concentrate and strike. Think about nothing but striking." A strained raspy old voice chanted incessantly.

Her bandaged hands clenched into strong ball fist, her mind relaxed and her cracked bloody lip parted slightly allowing a forced breath to escape through her mouth.

"Now!" The voice screamed.

The stone ground beneath her feet vibrated, and she felt a force coming at her quickly. Smirking, she turned to her right side and punched the hard chested incoming person who appeared in front of her using his speed.

"Ah!" She was overjoyed when she heard a deep voice yell out in pain. "Ophelia! Not on my chest, please." The whining voice made her scoff.

"I am allowed to hit you anywhere." She spoke proudly, removed the blindfold and tossed it away, her hazel gray eyes twinkling with pride as she narrowed her gaze to the tall strong built man in front of her who had a deep frown on his gorgeous face and his hand on his affected chest.

"Brute." He snapped, his face creased in pain.

"Dummy." Ophelia snapped at him, teasingly squinting her eyes at him.

There was no denying their resemblance. There were two identical peas from the same pod that were different in terms of their masculine and feminine appearances, from their long dark brown hair to their fiercely hypnotic hazel gray eyes.

Ophelia and River Viadislav were twins.

"This is not the time to have fun!" The raspy strained voice yelled, and an old wrinkling man with long white hair, fuzzy beards, and a large robe that almost swallowed him up appeared in front of them, frowning.

"But we weren't playing," Ophelia muttered, averting her gaze from the old man.

The old man's name was Sheldon, and he served as their mentor and trainer, developing them into formidable warriors to this day. He was very strict and incredibly grumpy.

"Don't talk back to me," He glared angrily at Ophelia. She was the stubborn one.

"We weren't really playing. I think you must be mistaken." River jumped in to defend her.

"You are always supporting her." Sheldon scoffed.

"You're distracting her!" He kept complaining.

Despite the fact that he wasn't distracting her and she hadn't been playing, Ophelia didn't speak, not because she didn't want to, but because her words would be meaningless at this time.

Ophelia had carried out the most kills compared to her brother, who was still training while serving as crown prince.

She had been sent on random missions since she was a child to get rid of beings who were threats to her home... her Kingdom Fireria, the home of the fire dragons.

Her family bloodline had always been strong, unstoppable warriors, and it would continue to be so. Sheldon was acting this way right now because she was preparing for her latest mission, one that would almost certainly land her on her death bed soon because she was meeting death himself.

"Sheldon, she should get some rest. And, by the way, Father has called for a family dinner tonight, and you're not going to let her go against my father, are you?" River spoke to the old man calmly, but the threat in his voice and intense gaze was obvious.

Ophelia finally looked the old man in the eyes and watched as he nodded before giving her a rigid glare that made her sigh in frustration. "I appreciate it." Then she hurriedly walked away from the sparring area, not even so much as glancing back.

She took slow steps into a quiet dark hallway, feeling nothing but unease. She had never been more nervous for a mission in her life, not even on her first. She hadn't slept since her father, his adviser, and elders called her and told her the news, and even when she was tired, she never tried to sleep, not because she didn't want to, but because she couldn't.

Ophelia approached her bedroom door, opened it, and walked in, immediately closing it behind her and relaxing her back against the door.

She needed a drink to alleviate her uneasiness, and dinner might be the perfect solution, as they hadn't had a family dinner in years.

She walked towards her bed, and as she got closer, her eyelids became heavy, her head lighter than usual, her heartbeat unexpectedly quickened, and she slumped on it and succumbed to darkness.

In that same darkness, she found herself standing there looking around with a neutral expression. Her bandaged hands were clenched, ready to punch into any attacker's bones.

"Where am i?" Her eyes twinkled in confusion as she asked slowly.

"More importantly, who are you?" Behind her, a deep, husky, velvety smooth voice erupted.

She shivered at the voice and turned to face the source of the voice.

Ophelia locked eyes with the mysterious man's blazing dark crimson wolf-like eyes, his inexplicable beauty taking her breath away so much that she forgot to breathe for a moment.

His lips curled into a sly smile and he said. "Aren't you the cutest little firestorm?"