CHAPTER ONE : HEIR APPARENT

His blade snaked its way along mine, slipping past my defenses. It danced along the length of my sword, every second bringing him closer to victory. I manage to pull away at the last second, destroying his chance of disarming me. The Father Confessor smiled grimly at me, his iridescent eyes ablaze. I felt a shudder run through me. Of all the Confessor's traits; his ability, his manner, his temper, it was his eyes that scared me the most: a startling crimson, as though they were brimmed with blood, ephemeral and fluid. They were the eyes of death.

The clang against my sword brings me back from my musings, and I continue my dance with death. He strikes, I parry. I lunge, he defends and comes back with a ferocity that would quell the Keeper himself. I stand my ground and defend as best I can, but with every blow I feel my sword grow heavier, a dead weight in my hand. I had to strike, one definitive blow is all it takes to win a battle. The only problem was that there was no opening in his defenses. I doubled my efforts, increased the force of my blows; against the Father Confessor, one does not hold back.

Surprised by my burst of strength, he faltered. I wasted no time. I lunged, only to have him sidestep and grab my arm with his left hand. He twisted it, and I dropped my sword as I let a wail of pain. He thrust me backward and waited, cold and impatient. I gulped as I picked up my sword and assumed the position: I would now have to fight with my left hand.

He stood as still as stone, waiting for… I don't know what. Vincent has always been hard for me to read. Minutes pass, and still he does not attack. Fine, if he would not make the first move, then I would.

I charge at him. My sword is raised. Still he does not react. I smile to myself. He's mine.

I was three paces away when Vincent dropped his sword, grabbed me, spun me and pinned me to the pillar, the dagger he kept hidden beneath his sleeve at my throat.

"You lose," he told me. "Again."

"It wasn't fair!" I complained. "You cheated!"

Vincent increases the pressure on my throat.

"You are brash and impatient. Had you waited, had thought about what you were doing, you would have seen what I was up to. But you didn't. You just wanted to win. That mentality will get you killed one day, and D'Hara will have lost its prince, your parents their son." He turned away from then, making his way back to the People's Palace.

"You still cheated!" I shouted at his back. Don't get me wrong, I love my cousin. But sometimes, he can be a bit of an ass.

Who am I, you ask, to be receiving such unfair treatment? Why, I am the heir to the D'Haran Empire, the son of the Seeker and the Mother Confessor: I am Aaron Rahl.