The uncontrollable power lurking beneath Princess Alethia's skin can either be the savior of the Four Kingdoms or its destruction.
Princess Alethia was raised on three principles: (1) Mercy is for the weak, (2) Emotions are an unwanted distraction...
a/n: Prepare yourselves :) Again, don't forget to vote and leave behind your thoughts! Thank you for your support and patience!!
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If that damn lion roared one more time, Ren planned to slit its throat with an axe and use its fur as a blanket. Ren lifted the arm he'd laid across his eyes in a futile attempt to block the sunlight streaming through the thin material of the tent.
His training had been exceptionally brutal earlier; Weylin forced him to self-heal deep abdominal wounds, pushing his magic to a new limit. He groaned in annoyance at having to attend a ridiculous function on top of the phantom pains decorating his ribcage.
Sweat ran in rivulets down his brow as he sat up, slinging his axes in their back holsters. Aydin was strapping his spear to his back when Ren glanced up.
Aydin's eyes met his own with a shocking amount of clarity. It had been a while since Ren had seen that gleam in the prince's eyes. The last time was when they'd first met on the battlefield in Gera. After that, Aydin had gone downhill, falling into a crippling abyss of foolishness.
"Be ready for anything," Aydin spoke, his voice wrapped with determination.
Ren scoffed as he stood. "I don't need you telling me that."
"I'm just saying," Aydin replied with a casual shrug.
The pair moved towards the exit as another sand-quaking roar erupted. A wall of humid, thick air slammed into them as they stepped into the sunlight.
Grains sucked in Ren's leather boots as he walked, a feeling that he had grown used to over the days. But the one thing he couldn't seem to familiarize his body with was the godforsaken, sweltering heat. His pale skin had tan lines and interestingly, red patches of sunburn despite the layers of clothing he wore for protection.
He'd be damned if he healed all those wounds. There was no point in wasting his magical reserves for the luxury of a pain-free life.
If he could drag himself across bits of shattered glass and through a sewage gutter filled with rotting food and dead rodents, he could suffer a little discomfort in the desert. Ren grew up on a platform of hardship, and although he'd gained newfound powers, it didn't mean he had to start making his life easier.
It'd only lead to him growing soft, underestimating others and overestimating his abilities.
Ren was jolted out of his thoughts when somebody banged into his side, looping their arm around his shoulders.
His body stiffened as wild red hair blew into his eyes, wind breezing past them.
I'm surrounded by lunatics.
"Aren't you excited to eat some real food?" Sephirah asked, tightening her grip as he tried to shrug her away.
"Get off me," Ren grunted, managing to duck out of her grasp.
