Blood Ties And Bitter Rivalries

❤️ Blood Ties And Bitter Rivalries ❤️

"Who is Penelope?" He asked.

"She is Nyxoria's beloved horse, my Emperor," Principal Archmiagus answered, his tone laced with disdain. "A stubborn and wicked creature, just like its owner."

Tharros nodded, rising to his feet with an air of authority.

"What has Nyxoria been up to?" he asked, his voice dripping with hatred rather than curiosity, each word laced with the venom of old grudges and simmering rage.

"Bullying," he said, the lie rolling smoothly off his tongue as a sly grin spread across his face. The growl that escaped Tharros in response was music to his ears. He wanted Nyxoria to suffer, to feel the wrath of the Emperor. If anyone could punish her, it was him.

It had been years since the young Emperor had been seen outside his castle or attended any of the high council meetings with the kings and queens of Vampires, Witches, Faeries, and other supernaturals. His absence had given rise to countless rumors, whispers that slithered through every corner of the kingdoms. They spoke of his madness, his erratic behavior, they said he had shut himself away, refusing to see anyone, consumed by whatever demons plagued him. So when Principal Archmiagus received word that Emperor Tharros intended to visit the Arcane in person, it was nothing short of shocking. The thought of the Emperor coming here, filled him with a twisted sense of satisfaction. Perhaps this would finally put Nyxoria in her place and she will then know she is not the strongest as she claims.

"I expect such from her," Tharros voice broke though Principal Archmiagus thoughts. "I hope you've given everyone in the school my rules?"

Principal Archmiagus nodded his head. "But Nyxoria hasn't come yet when I gave them the scrolls, should I go and give her?"

"There will be no need for that," Tharros said, his cold smile slicing through the air like a blade, sending a chill down Principal Archmiagus’s spine. His voice carried an eerie calm, but his words were anything but reassuring. "I will see her, after all. We are destined to meet," he added, his eyes gleaming with the unhinged intensity of a madman.

Without another word, Tharros strode out of the office, leaving an unsettling silence in his wake. Principal Archmiagus kneels frozen, the encounter replaying in his mind like a warning he couldn't ignore.

As the door clicked shut, he stood up and slumped into his chair, his heart racing. For years, he had imagined Nyxoria finally being put in her place, finally facing someone who could break through her defiance and arrogance. He had thought the Emperor would be the perfect instrument for her punishment. But now, doubts clawed at him.

The hatred in Tharros’s eyes wasn’t just anger; it was something darker, something primal. It wasn’t just about teaching Nyxoria a lesson. It was about destruction, chaos, and an evil so deep it seemed to consume him. Archmiagus couldn’t shake the feeling that making the two of them in this Arcane was a grave mistake. He wanted to see Nyxoria defeated, yes—but not at the cost of the Arcane itself. If Tharros’s rage was unleashed, it wouldn’t stop with Nyxoria. It would burn everything in its path.

The weight of his decision pressed down on him, suffocating, as he sat alone in the office, wondering if he had just doomed them all when he lied about the bullying.

★★★★★★

Dika and Nyxoria strode confidently through the dimly lit halls of the Arcane, their footsteps echoing ominously. They stopped in front of one of the classroom doors, a place where silence and discipline were expected to reign. But Nyxoria was never one for rules.

Without hesitation, and certainly without knocking, Nyxoria lifted her boot and slammed it into the door. The force sent it flying off its hinges, crashing into the far side of the classroom with a deafening bang. The door narrowly missed the teacher, a male Centaur with a stern expression and an air of authority, though he quickly stepped aside to avoid Nyxoria's trouble when she walked in. The sudden interruption left a tense silence in its wake, the kind that hinted at brewing chaos.

Inside the classroom, five students sat scattered across the room, their attention having been on the Centaur moments before. Four were male, each radiating an aura of strength and quiet intensity, while the fifth was a striking girl with long, shoulder-length pink hair that shimmered under the dim classroom lights. They had been focused, listening intently to the teacher, but now their gazes shifted sharply toward the intruders.

This was no ordinary group of students. These five were the elite—the strongest fighters in the entire Arcane. Their presence commanded respect and fear, and they carried themselves with an unspoken understanding that they were unmatched. They were the only ones who had not joined the rest of the Arcane at the assembly grounds earlier when Principal Archmiagus made his announcement. They hadn’t needed to; the Principal had come to inform them personally about Emperor Tharros’s impending arrival.

The pink-haired girl, as beautiful as she was formidable, stood out among them. She was tall, the same height as Dika, and her beauty was undeniable. Her features were sharp and elegant, her presence magnetic. Yet, despite her allure, she couldn’t rival Nyxoria’s beauty, whose presence dominated the room like an unstoppable storm.

As Nyxoria and Dika stepped further into the classroom, the pink-haired girl rolled her eyes, trying to suppress the irritation that boiled within her. She refused to glare openly at Nyxoria, though the tension in her posture betrayed her feelings. There was history between them, an unspoken rivalry that hung heavy in the air. Nyxoria’s mere presence was enough to stir frustration, a reminder of their differences and the friction that had always existed between them.

The room remained charged with unspoken words as the two new arrivals stood before the group, their intentions unclear but their disruption absolute. The Centaur teacher cleared his throat, attempting to regain control of the situation, but even he knew that wherever Nyxoria went, chaos was sure to follow.

The pink-haired girl, Princess Nasa, sat with a poised grace that was second nature to her, her sharp eyes flickering with thinly veiled disdain as they met Nyxoria’s gaze. The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle of wills that needed no words to explain. They were family, but blood ties often meant little when hearts were divided. Nasa is the only child and daughter to the High King Vyr and his wife.

As the perfect princess, Nasa embodied everything expected of royalty—grace, beauty, kindness, and unshakable discipline. She was adored by everyone who crossed her path, a beacon of hope and the kind of Princess who inspired loyalty without demanding it. She was the embodiment of everything a royal should be.

Nyxoria, on the other hand, was a force of nature—wild, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore. Where Nasa inspired admiration, Nyxoria evoked unease. Respect wasn’t given to her; she took it, often by force. While Nasa’s presence warmed a room, Nyxoria’s sent a chill through it. Her beauty was striking, almost dangerous, like the sharp edge of a blade catching the light. She didn’t seek approval, nor did she care to earn it.

The differences between them were undeniable, and it didn’t take much to see the tension simmering beneath Nasa’s polished surface. Behind her calm smile and perfect demeanor lay something darker—a deep and unspoken hatred for her cousin.

Stopping in front of her, Nasa felt the familiar heat of anger rising within her. Nyxoria had disrupted the peace, as she always did. Her very presence was a reminder of everything Nasa hated—chaos.

Nyxoria, for her part, smirked. She knew exactly how much she got under Nasa’s skin, and she relished it. The hatred between them was mutual, a fire that had burned brightly for years and showed no sign of fading.

Princess Nasa and Nyxoria were bound by blood but divided by rivalry. Everyone could sense it, even if no one said it out loud—their feud was far from over. In fact, it was only just starting.

It wouldn’t take long before they started fighting, again. But at that moment, Tharros walked in, his eyes locked on the back of Nyxoria’s head. Her scent, divine and intoxicating, drew him in, and his fingers curled into fists.