Interlude

"Would you offer freedom of choice for a path to success?"

That's what Combhán Eve wondered. Everything in her life, from the black fatigues and breastplate she wore, which contrasted with her pale skin, to the design of the very manor she stood and lived in, matched one ideology: Efficiency at the cost of the superfluous.

The question popped again. "Would you offer freedom of choice for a path to success?"

If it were her father, he would answer, "Without hesitation." Would she?

"Yes," Eve muttered, voice steeling.

Now, if only she would answer the same. Eve then sighed, staring at the door to her sister's room. She had been standing here for twenty minutes now. Why was her sister so stubborn, even after twenty years under her father's wing? This was for a better, brighter future. And what was she doing? Hiding in her room in her little act of defiance.

So, with a steel heart, she knocked on the door.

"Aisling?" She said. "We need to talk."

Only silence greeted her.

Frowning, she knocked again, only to be met with the same answer.

"Really?" Eve scoffed, twisting the brass knob.

However, to her surprise, a glowing construction of tens of gray runic sigils, connected by liquid mana streaks, appeared on the door's surface. And the moment they all materialized, they shimmered before erupting energy at her, knocking her a few steps back.

Gobsmacked, Eve stood there. How had her sister managed to inscribe the door with an enchantment without anyone noticing? No, that couldn't be. Her father had definitely noticed... which is why he handed her the orb a week ago.

"Aisling..." She gritted her teeth and hissed. "Why are you acting like such a child?"

Quickly, Eve sifted through her pockets. A moment later, she revealed a glassy orb. Within, it harbored hundreds of glittering arcanic runes that clung to the clear surface, shaped into puzzle pieces of an overarching spell formation. Eve then pressed it on one of the sigils sparkling at the center of the magical circle—one that held its structure together.

And, of course, the sigil shattered. Why wouldn't it? With its destruction came the slow crumbling of the rest of the magical circle, like one of the many sand castles Atlas used to create. Well, the ones she and Aisling used to kick down.

The circle shattered into nothingness. With confidence gleaming through Eve's features, she twisted the door knob again. However, it quickly disappeared and was replaced by another shock as a repulsive circle emerged. Once again, it shimmered, and once again, Eve was knocked back a few steps.

Her sister really wasn't in the mood to talk.

"Aisling, quit acting like a child." A frustrated Eve activated the orb again, removing the enchantment... again. "You're not avoiding this conversation."

She then twisted the doorknob, easily barging into her sister's room. It was minimally furnished with the necessities. But her sister went out of her way to order ridiculous plush toys of weak animals from the stores in their neighboring city, Avalorn.

What a waste of space... She wouldn't mind if Eve stole some for herself, would she?

Her gaze followed to the end of the room toward the window and found her. She sat before a minimally designed desk and a silvery vanity mirror. Like everyone else in this household, she wore black fatigues. But unlike everyone else, Aisling highlighted the edges of her sleeves with a bright yellow shade—one of many small rebellions against their father.

"It's the middle of the night, dear Sister." Aisling had not turned to face Eve, preferring to comb her shorter black hair. "And it's rude to barge in without permission." Her sapphire blue gaze peered through the mirror, staring at Eve with an arch on her soft, black brow. "Did you forget father's lessons on manners?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Eve didn't respond to such a question, especially with that hidden accusatory gaze her sister was displaying. Rather, she focused on her sister's soft, Nubian nose and heart-shaped face before shifting her attention to her short, black curtain-bang locks with blue and purple tips that never grew past her shoulders.

Her sister would no doubt turn heads and receive dozens of love-sick admirers chasing after her if it weren't for her father's station. And Eve believed Aisling was the most beautiful woman in Stàilinn... Well, barring herself, of course.

"You should grow out your hair," Eve said, crossing her arms. "It'll look better on you."

"No thanks." Aisling shut her down without hesitation. "The last thing I want is for someone to confuse me with you."

A smug smile slowly grew on Eve's round lips.

"Oh, Aisling. Did you forget Father's lessons on manners? You should always respect your older sister."

A scoff passed Aisling's pale lips.

"Older only by fifteen minutes," she muttered, her tone rising. "What do you want? Did you find something else oh-so lacking in me on our rounds on the streets today?"

There was that petty jab again. Yet Eve couldn't help but fall into it.

"We're guardsmen," she retorted. "You need to hold the position with the utmost respect. If you want me to stop criticizing you, then act one."

Aisling scoffed. Why did she have to? It's not as if she had asked for the job in the first place. No, she was placed in the position and expected to obey her father's wishes.

There was a pause between them. The twins remained glaring at each other through the mirror's reflections, both of their ceramic-frozen faces.

"Look." Eve weakly sighed, shutting the door behind herself. "You know why I'm here. He expects you to follow through with his commands. Or everything would be for naught."

A momentary silence swept between the two. However, it was just the calm before the storm.

"Naught?" Aisling's voice rumbled like a volcano, ready to erupt. "Haven't I given enough?"

She slammed onto the desk, her black-painted nails scratching its metal surface. Her strength was enough to leave small imprints on the steel surface.

"IF it's so important..." Her deep, ocean-like eyes glared at Eve through the mirror, voice rising with each passing word. "...Then why don't you do it? Better yet, maybe The Dúndraíocht should. That way, everyone gets what they want. And you two leave me the fuck alone!"

Another moment of silence. One that stood for minutes on end as the twins locked eyes. But Eve broke sight first.

"I would do it without an issue and complete it without fault," Eve calmly said, her gaze lingering on the plain gray walls that lined the manor from top to bottom. "But you're more suited for the role." She then returned a cold gaze toward her sister. "Father said so himself."

"Thanks for the votes of confidence," Aisling hissed, returning her gaze to her reflection. "Go. Leave. I'm tired of looking at your face. It's rather unflattering."

Eve sighed. Why was she being so difficult? It was beneficial for the city and for everyone. Yet, her sister was willing to give it all up. For what? So-called freedom? The two of them lacked that option, not in this world. So, she stayed, her gaze never leaving her sister. Eve's cold, almost robotic expression stood in far contrast to Aisling's volcanic fury.

"Uncle ordered a new pylon to be sent to Avalorn," Eve said, changing the subject. "And the escort will need protection. Will you join the entourage to protect it?" She turned towards the door, ready to leave. "Or will you wallow in nonsensical things?"

And with that, Eve left, closing the door behind her. Once alone, Aisling lowered her head, burying her face between her hands and hair; the room soon filled with echoes of stifled curses and sorrowful promises. Why? Was this really all there was to her life? Was she just a doll her father placed around to further his goals?

No. She couldn't break down now. Not here. There has to be another answer. But what? Wait...

"Avalorn." Aisling jerked her head up. "Avalorn..."

Her fondest memories are at her uncle's home. There, she would play with Eve and her cousin without worrying about her responsibilities, so-called 'duties.'

Aisling turned to her mirror as a plan began to form.

"Should I?" She asked herself, her gaze locking with her reflection.

Back then, she would confide in her sister about all her problems. Eve would soothe her with promises of a brighter tomorrow. Now, the only remaining twin she had left was her own reflection. What had happened? What changed between them? And what changed Eve?

Most importantly, should Aisling go through her own plans? If she doesn't follow through, then things could really spell trouble for everything. Or maybe not. Her father had always planned contingencies for every scenario. And even his daughter was just another cog in a multi-layered plan. So what if she doesn't do it? She's as easily replaceable as any other. And maybe that would be her chance to begin again.

Maybe..." Aisling clenched her fingers so tightly that they cracked under pressure. "Maybe I do deserve a change of scenery."

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