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Chapter 11: Sisters in Shadow
The arena vibrated with tension as Najima and Nabila circled one another, blades drawn.
Two sisters.
One raised in light, admired and adored.
The other, hidden in shadow, forgotten and overlooked.
The crowd screamed for blood.
Najima struck first.
Her blade came down in a violent arc, heavier than her frame should allow. The ground cracked beneath her step, black mist trailing her edge. Nabila caught it cleanly, but the shockwave blasted dust across the arena.
Too strong, Nabila thought grimly, her arms trembling. This isn't just training… something else fuels her.
Najima grinned, teeth bared.
"Scared, sister? All those years being perfect, flawless, the jewel of the Aderenle… And yet, here you struggle against me. The one they called nothing."
Her strikes grew wilder, each swing infused with the sinister pulse of the ring. Nabila parried, dodged, countered, but with every clash, she felt it: Najima wasn't fighting alone.
The ring whispered, its aura leaking shadows that coiled around Najima's arms like chains.
"Break, Nabila!" Najima screamed. "Break, and let me rise!"
She feinted left, then struck low with blistering speed. Nabila barely managed to twist aside, the blade carving a shallow line across her thigh. Pain flared, but she stood her ground.
The crowd gasped — the perfect daughter, bleeding.
"Najima…" Nabila's voice shook, not with fear, but with sorrow. "This isn't you. You've given yourself to something that will destroy you."
Najima's eyes glowed faintly crimson, her grin almost feral.
"And what if it does? At least then I'll have lived! At least then I'll have mattered!"
Her aura surged, black flames crackling around her as the ring pulsed violently. For a moment, a monstrous silhouette shimmered behind her — horns, wings, and fangs of shadow.
Gasps erupted from the stands. Even the King frowned, his eyes narrowing. That… is not mortal power.
Nabila steadied her breath, her aura blooming brighter, violet light pushing back the darkness.
"Then I'll stop you. Even if you hate me for it, even if you never forgive me… I'll protect you."
Najima roared and charged, blade screaming with shadow. Nabila met her head-on, their swords clashing in a storm of light and dark.
For long, brutal minutes they fought, sisters locked in a deadly dance. Najima's wild power threatened to overwhelm, but Nabila's discipline and precision cut through chaos.
Finally, with a cry, Nabila twisted her blade, disarming Najima in a flare of violet light. She pressed the edge to her sister's throat, chest heaving.
The arena fell silent.
Najima's blade lay in the dirt. Her eyes burned with tears — anger, humiliation, despair. The shadows writhed around her, but the ring pulsed as if waiting.
"Finish it," Najima hissed. "Do it! Take the victory, as you always have!"
Nabila's hands trembled, her blade steady but her heart breaking.
"I won't kill you. You're my sister. Even if you hate me… I'll carry that hate. But I won't lose you to this darkness."
The crowd erupted in mixed cheers and jeers. Some called her merciful. Others, weak.
But before the match could be declared, the air cracked with violet lightning.
⚡ A figure appeared at the arena's edge, white hair shining, purple eyes burning like judgment.
Malik.
The storm had come to witness.
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