“To see the good in yourself is to also see the evil within,” said the prophetic White Witch. “It is to tame the demon down and conquer it that makes everyone be pure again. It is this since the start of time and will always be till the end of time. Only upon the return of the Third King’s Lost Daughters will the Kingdom rise again. All things will be restored as they were. From the pure magic of the White Witches down to the redemption of souls of the fallen warriors she had slain. The kingdom will rise again at the fall of the Evil One. ”
And return they did, after so many years of despair caused by the Black Witch Nathara, the sorceress of the Everglades. They were Third King’s own identical daughters. But at an early age, they were sent out to different warring families as a precaution—to prevent Nathara from seeking them out all at once and risking the chance of the prophecy from being ever fulfilled.
They were summoned almost a year past, and with that, came forgiveness and enough time for them to get to know each other as the family that they were. It wasn’t easy. But before they left to challenge their fate, they were able to spend a good number of months with their true mother and father, both whom they had grown to love.
Their mother, Queen Branwen, held all the virtues of being a loved and admired Queen. Their father, King Aedan, loved her so much. She made their transition to Royalty easy as she had loved them more than they could have ever expected. She was the Queen but she made herself their mother first before anything else. Because of this, they could never have accepted their places in the kingdom.
But things must come to a conclusion at a point in time. To fulfill that prophecy, they must have Nathara’s blood on their hands. She who has slain must be slayed in order to restore balance into their kingdom. There were no other options.
It was the night of the Solstice Moon, the eve of their twentieth year. It was the appointed time for the prophecy to be fulfilled as the time of the Solstice held the greatest source of magic.
The woods were dark and deep. Everything was quiet except for a few howls from the night’s wolves. In front of the roaring fire, the three raven haired princesses gathered. Kiara cast a spell that sent all of them into a trance. At first, it was a little weak as the memories they sent out to each other were vague and cloudy. Only until they held hands, did they understand each other’s minds clearly. Upon contact, their skin surged with such strong impulses, bringing memories to the surface that were much clearer than before. It took quite a long time for them to digest everything. Until a few moments later, a sudden gust of wind and the rising of the fire signaled that their demons have indeed been awakened.—hungry and waiting to be let out from their cages.
Daemons, that’s what they were called. Snake spirits slithering and wrapping themselves up in the coils of the three warrior princesses’ hearts.
Kiara tried to control these demon manifests but it turned out that they were beyond her control. They were tense, always on guard and ready to snap at them anytime. They were untamed beasts, these snakes. However, they all came out slithering slowly out of their open mouths, making eerie noises that echoed loudly in the woods.
At first, they were hissing softly. But by each growing minute, the skin-crawling tone made it past their ears and it went straight into the insides of their chests—occupying every space left and crushing out the air inside them brutally.
It was now or never.
Andreva’s hate was a rattlesnake made out of roaring fire. Since the prophecy was unveiled, she would run off daily into the woods every time she recalls the hate that she had for her mother—the woman elder decided that she would never be taken into the tribe’s immediate family’s circle. She was not welcome. She was not her own flesh and blood—in her eyes, a constant living reminder of her mother’s dead biological child.
