Battle Sisters

PIPER

Uriel could be an overprotective hen when she wanted to be.

“Are you alright, Princess Py Pir?”

Piper grimaced. They were back in their room now, tucked away from the day’s noise. With practiced care, Piper knelt beside the floorboards and eased out a loose plank.

Beneath it, nestled in cloth, was a gold-encrusted box. Inside: a salve she’d been rationing for weeks—the only thing that eased the sting of the small nicks tearing through her black scales.

Shit. They were almost out at the rate she was going through these.

She dabbed it on, quick but precise. The scales around the worst gash hissed softly in relief.

Then the lid snapped shut, the plank slid back into place.

“Stop fussing over me,” she muttered, “and I will be.”

This morning had been a disaster. Not only had Piper failed to step in before conflict sparked—she hadn’t even noticed the tension building. Not about Cotter’s attitude. About his existence.

Maybe if she were from one of the races wronged by the Crystal Elves, she’d feel the same. And yet, after all she’d done to help Cotter stay alive... the guilt sat heavy.

“What if you got hurt, huh? Defending that boy… he needed to learn how to fight. And that meant he needed to know how it felt to lose.”

Piper looked at her irritably. “But I didn’t, so it is a moot point.”

“You’ve been reading way too many of those… degenerate texts you dragged from back home. And it’s usually the boy who saves the gi—”

“It’s called romance, actually. And true love is blind to gender roles!”

“Right. And next you’ll tell me you didn’t fall head over heels when he stood his ground after Alexandria tore into him. Fantastic ideas will remain fantasy, rattletail.” Uriel rolled her eyes. “Just needed to remind you to keep your distance from him. Just the appropriate amount so he gets attached… but you don’t.”

The salve was cool against her skin as Uriel worked with almost surgical precision.

Piper’s gaze drifted toward the orphanage’s dim hallway. Distance? When every day here ties me closer?

“You could at least pretend to like Cotter, Uriel. Or, you know, hold a conversation like you aren't sociopathic.”

“We can’t keep this up forever,” Uriel said quietly, without looking up. “We need to leave eventually.”

“Are we in any condition to give orders right now, let alone stand on our two feet against the wilds?”

At that, Uriel looked down. “I—I suppose not. But we won’t grow here.”

“And how do you expect us to survive the journey back?” Piper snapped. “No. We’re sticking to the original plan.”

“But here, your skills will wither. And once you come of age, people will expect strength. Command. Presence. That won’t grow in this place.”

“There must be a trainer in East Gate,” Piper argued, though she could already hear how flimsy it sounded.

“If we start asking for help,” Uriel said, “Duke Volkoz will hear. And we both know how loose his tongue becomes with a cup in his hand.”

“Then we pay for silence. Everyone has a price.”

Uriel crossed her arms. “With what coin?”

Silence.

“What coin?” she repeated. “Currency from a kingdom halfway across the world? No one here will lend to us. No one will take us seriously.”

Piper looked down.

“I have to trust the plan. My parents’ plan. It wasn’t for nothing. They’ll come. They have to.”

Because if they didn’t…

Uriel’s gaze softened. “I wouldn’t hold my breath.” She hesitated, then said, “Remember what you promised your family, Princess. That vow comes before any loyalty to Cotter’s—”

“Silence.”

Uriel stiffened. That was new.

She turned, startled. Piper’s voice had cut sharper than she'd ever heard.

“You speak so callously of a friend,” Piper said. “Our friend. Who, if he were anyone else, wouldn’t have conjured a speck of mana having recovered so recently from the Chills. Don’t forget that. We can’t lose our souls just to complete a mission, Retainer.”

Uriel sighed. “You always think with your heart, never your head. And when that heart freezes up, you’re useless the moment a hard choice needs making.”

Uriel turned sharply, boots clicking as she strode to the door. As was characteristic of her helpfully unhelpful servant, she had to get the last word.

“Especially when that heart’s carved out a Crystal-shaped seat for Cotter to lounge in.”

Uriel didn’t glance back.

“You have potential, Princess,” Uriel added shortly. “But don’t waste it here.”

And with that, Uriel walked out, her footsteps stiff.

Piper didn’t move. Not until she was sure Uriel was gone.

Shit. Was she this obvious?

She hadn’t tried to hide the fact she’s been protective of Cotter as of late. It should be a good thing, considering the role she would play in the coming years; being protective should be an admirable quality!

She couldn’t let Cotter down again.

Twice now, she’d been complacent.

Piper reached for the stick she kept carefully stashed behind her mattress.

“Oh, how I miss my hounds…” she muttered. “They would’ve loved to practice with me. Though, my bath servants come a close second…”

There was a secret exit: one that led out into the world, and from there, into the forest.

Lately, there’d been reports of wolves harassing the older kids whenever they went out to collect winterberries.

Good.

Something to sink her frustration into.

\\\\\

URIEL

“I do so love your energy! Go on boy, give us nothing! Hahahahaha~!”

Uriel was very cross with herself, and with the world, so she decided she’d be mean today. And when she felt rather mean, her true colors get to shine. She even had the gall to bring the back of her hand to her lips as she laughed.

Truthfully? She felt less in control than she would’ve liked. This part of the training regiment was more impulsive than hiding other cold facts.

It was for herself.

It was hard to reconcile those old war stories—the terrifying Crystal Elves, the so-called ‘Diamond-Blooded Conquerors’—with… this.

This damp, wheezing disaster of a boy.

“Come now, Cotter! Surely your ‘superior Elven blood’ has more gumption than that?”

“I should be practising magic! Not—!”

“You see any magic trainers wandering about? No? Then shut up and move! Martha’s a great paladin, sure, but that doesn’t mean she’s got a damn clue about spellcasting, rau!” She snapped her fingers. “Now Piper, attack!!”

“Wait! AH!!”

Cotter barely slipped past Piper’s tail swing. He was panting like a dog, drenched and struggling—but hey, Uriel had to admit, it was better than two days ago. Back then, he’d be winded and collapsed after the first faint.

But “better” didn’t mean “good.” Not when you’re facing trained swordsmen with kill orders.

“Watch carefully, everyone,” she announced, eyes gleaming. “At any moment now, our ‘prodigy’ will fall flat on his face.”

“I’m right here, Uri—woah!” Cotter yelped, narrowly avoiding a headbutt from Piper’s tail.

Uriel’s lips curled in cruel satisfaction. Piper was improving exponentially—each strike sharper, each dodge cleaner. Cotter, however, still had the weight of his recent Chills dragging him down. He was catching up. Slowly.

But slowly wasn’t enough. Not in a world where the kill orders arrived before the invitations.

And yet, Uriel was smiling.

She shouldn't have been. She should be scolding Piper for wasting her time. She should be mourning the inevitable scandal that would come when East Gate discovered the next heir to House Jamil was training with a Crystal Elf.

But here she was.

“Hmph. As expected of me, rau. Even the untrainable bends to my expertise.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Piper had been sent here to hide, to be kept safe until the flames of political war dulled into embers. Instead, she’d attached herself to this boy—this Crystal brat whose very existence was a walking PR disaster.

Uriel’s jaw tightened.

Piper had clawed herself up from obscurity. Their family had been buried beneath centuries of noble backstabbing and trickery, and Piper’s rise was their one, shining redemption arc to reclaim their rightful place on the Sands of Time.

And now… this. One impulsive, stubborn elf was going to drag them back into the mud.

Still. She couldn’t say Cotter wasn’t trying.

As expected, his foot slipped. Piper’s tail clipped his shoulder and sent him sprawling to the dirt.

Uriel’s heels clicked once, unimpressed.

“Well. Better than last time.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “But still woefully insufficient. Drop down and give me twenty.”

“Uriel…” Piper muttered.

“Fine. Ten,” Uriel relented with a languid wave of her hand. “My benevolence knows no bounds, rau.”

Cotter groaned, wiping sweat from his brow, but still… he smiled. “Thank you, merciful master!”

And he dropped, pushing with everything he had.

Uriel’s lips twitched. What is with this elf of contradictions? She’s been working her whole life to hear other people call her that, and he, of all people, decides to do with total earnestness?!

She shouldn't have smiled.

Curse him—she did anyway! Maybe Piper was onto something…