From Hate Came Love

Not all love stories end in a tragedy, but sadly, this one does.

"Isaac!" I scream at the top of my lungs in an effort to warn my protector, but tragically, my efforts were for nought as when he spun on his heels to look at me, an attacker lunged forward and threw a spear right through his chest. Blood relentlessly poured from his wound and he fell to his knees. I could tell that the spear did not pierce his heart, as he did not die immediately, but instead struck a vital organ. His lung. I watched from my place on the balcony as he drowned in a pool of his own blood. My body turned stiff and my fingers felt like ice. I was frozen.

It all started when my father, Ronan, brought home a small boy who was apparently two years my senior. He was as skinny as a twig, with tousled black hair and fierce blue eyes.

My father gestures from the boy to me, and back again, "Isaac, this is my daughter Viola, your Princess." At the mention of my title, I unconsciously straighten my spine and hold my head high. The boy I now know as Isaac doesn't so much as glance my way, as his eyes are fixed on the plush beige carpet of our palace foyer. The King takes the silence as a hint to continue. "Viola, my daughter, this is Isaac, your new Protector."

My body begins to shiver as the long forgotten memory of our first meeting flashes before my eyes. I am instantly unfrozen and my legs cave beneath me. I start to wallow into my knees as my tears become stronger and more aggressive. I take in a brief glance of the man I have hated for so long, only to see the attacker still down there, slowly creeping towards Isaac's withering form. It reminds me of the time an assassin tried to kill me.

On a cold and windy night when I was only eleven years old, a man broke into our palace on a path to end my life. I had heard a loud bang outside my bedroom doors and immediately sat up. The thumping of a fist on the polished wood was all the motivation I needed to get up and hide under my bed. From my place on the cold tile floor, I could see the double doors directly in front of me swing on their hinges as the intruder barged his way through. He took but one-step across the threshold when suddenly the shard tip of a sword came out of his chest. His crimson blood began trickling down his deceased body to stain the pure white tiles of my room. The assassins weight lead to his body falling to its knees and slumping forward, and as it did so, it revealed a boy of only thirteen holding the very sword that had pierced the body's heart. Isaac brought his knee up to the man's shoulder and pushed down with all his might, causing the body to topple over as he wretched the sword from its corpse. As the body lay limp on the floor, I knew he was dead.

Princess, Isaac called, Princess! He stormed further into my room in a frantic state as he searched for me. I saw his footsteps reach the side of my bed and then my quilt thrown on the floor. Tears welled up in my eyes and I had to let them fall. I cried in shock and horror as a murderer stood in front of me. I crawled out of the opposite side of my bed that he was. I slowly began to peak over the side of the mattress only to have his eyes locked on me. There was no emotion on his face, just the stone cold eyes of a killer. The night had turned his fierce blue eyes into an icy white. He cautiously walked around the bed in attempt to get closer to my fragile form, in what I assumed as a comforting matter, but at that very moment, I was petrified and flinched away as he drew near. My action shocked him and a flicker of shame crossed his face before his emotionless mask came back. I still had tears rolling down my cheeks when he ran from the room and away from me.

The sudden anguish of the memory jolts my body up to a standing position, with my hands curled into fists. I wipe away my ceasing tears and begin to feel the sensation of adrenaline pumping through my veins. I steadily leap off my balcony and roll into a sitting lunge stance, with a sharp and treasured dagger in my right hand. I am ready for action, able to fight and hungry to take my revenge.

As every inch of my body pumped with adrenaline, every fibre of my being cursed with hate. He aimed for my head but I swiftly ducked. In return, Isaac glided behind me and kicked in the back of knee causing me to abruptly fall.

Again! He shouted. I got back up and we started again, just as he instructed. Ever since my encounter with the assassin, Isaac has been training me to fight so I won't be helpless if something like that happens again. He proclaimed this idea to my father, the King, and he accepted. I on the other hand, reluctantly agreed.

When we first started, I was hopeless. He would beat me around like a rag doll telling me to try harder. I thought he enjoyed doing this to me, which only grew my festering hatred towards him. However, I later realised that this hurt him as much as it did me, and I didn't understand why.

Again! He shouts again. This time he knocked me down on my but with a steady sidekick, I brought my forearm up to defend but the strength behind the force is what knocked me down. I stand up and slide my feet into position one, with my left leg forward and my right behind for balance and support. He comes at me with a series of pushes, first the jab, then a straight and again. I block each one. He changes up his style a bit and throws a few hooks and upper cuts in there. Again, I block each one. A grin spreads across Isaac face as a show of how proud he is of my progress.

In the brief distraction, I step forward with my right foot and swing my left leg up for a sidekick aimed at his face, he catches my leg just as I planned. With the momentum behind my attack I slid, throw the gap between his legs on the floor. He flips forward and lands on his back, the oxygen ripped from his lungs. As he gasps back to reality, he looks at me dumbfounded and I walk around his body to face him properly. I can tell that the next words he is about to safe hurt his pride as a man, like a straight punch to the jaw.

Well done, he sourly expresses with pride. I know that as much as it hurt him to admit, he truly was proud of me. I unconsciously think back to the time he killed a man in front of me and my smile disappears. Before I knew what was happening, I was on top of his, straddling his hips. He had swept his right leg above the ground and tripped me, but it backfired. I place both my palms on either side of his head and lift myself up. I notice that our faces are only inches apart and my cheeks flush a bright pink. I don't look away, and neither does he. Our eyes stay locked like that for seconds and I begin to feel the thump of his chest undermine.

I stand faster than I can register. This is enough for today. I say, more like order as I storm out of the fighting arena.

The attacker turns his attention to me as I approach him. He tells me in a mocking tone that he'll go easy and I say that I am grateful. I let him strike me down, so that he lets his guard down even more. As I get back up he smiles and signals for me to come at him. I do as I'm told a throw a weak punch towards his face that he easily catches. His smile quickly fades as I spin around him and drive the dagger up behind his fourth and fifth rib. He almost immediately coughs out blood and shakes down to the floor. I rip the blade from his back with no remorse. A kick his body to the side so that I can see his face as he withers and dies by my hand. He passes silently.

I turn to see Isaac barely breathing. I rush over to his side and rest his head in my lap. In the time that it took for me to get to him, he had already fallen to his back surrounded by a puddle of his own blood. His pulse is weak and the colour has faded from his skin to a pasty white. I tell him to be still and he doesn't even have the energy to protest. Tears once again stream down my face as I tell him that he is an idiot and I hate him. I shut my eyes to try blink away the tears but am stopped by a cold touch on my cheek. When I open my eyes I realise he is trying to ease my face down to his. I oblige his wishes.

"I love you, Viola." His breathless whisper is the last thing he says before he brings his lips up to mine in a cold and haunting kiss. When we part I realise it was the first time he had ever said my name, and it would be his last. I then regrettably wonder to myself why my only love sprung from my only hate.