The next day began with a summons to the castle's armory, a sprawling chamber filled with racks of weapons that glittered in the morning light. Rynhara entered with Kaelira trailing behind her, looking more curious than usual.
"Your mother told me this is where you pick your weapon," Kaelira said, leaning against a rack of spears. "Better choose something good. This'll define your style."
Rynhara glanced around, her mismatched eyes wide. Swords, spears, maces, bows—there was an overwhelming variety, each weapon polished and waiting for a master.
"Define my style?" she echoed, walking along the rows of weaponry.
"Of course," came a familiar, gravelly voice. Sir Eryndor entered the armory, his imposing frame seeming to fill the room. "The weapon you choose reflects your identity as a warrior. It's not just about skill; it's about what resonates with you."
Rynhara frowned. "No pressure, then."
"Plenty of pressure," Kaelira said with a smirk. "Pick something boring, and I'll never let you live it down."
As Rynhara wandered the armory, her eyes were drawn to a pair of sleek, elegant daggers. Their blades were curved and sharp, with intricate engravings of dragons coiled around the hilts.
"These are interesting," she murmured, picking them up.
"They're fan daggers," Eryndor said. "Light, fast, and versatile. With proper technique, they can block, slice, and even throw opponents off balance. A good choice for someone with quick reflexes."
Rynhara tested their weight, twirling them experimentally. "I like them," she said, smiling faintly.
Kaelira raised an eyebrow. "Daggers? You're starting to sound like an assassin."
"Oh, you mean like you?" Rynhara shot back, grinning.
Kaelira pouted but said nothing.
Moving further into the armory, Rynhara's gaze landed on a sword displayed in a glass case. The katana's blade was midnight black, with a crimson edge that seemed to glow faintly in the light. Its hilt was wrapped in dark leather, and the guard was shaped like dragon wings.
"What's this one?" she asked.
Eryndor's tone grew reverent. "That's Obsidian Fang, an ebony katana forged in dragonfire. It's a weapon of precision and discipline, capable of cutting through nearly anything when wielded properly. But it requires a master's touch. It was also your fathers personal weapon. "
Rynhara reached out, her fingers brushing the hilt. The weapon felt cold yet alive, like it was waiting for her.
"Looks dramatic," Kaelira said. "Perfect for your 'Villainess' aesthetic."
Rynhara rolled her eyes but couldn't deny the katana felt right.
Just as she thought her choices were complete, something caught her eye in a shadowed corner of the armory. A massive, menacing scythe leaned against the wall, its black blade curved like the crescent moon. The weapon radiated an eerie aura, as if it were alive.
"That," Eryndor said cautiously, "is Nightwither. It's a death scythe, more a symbol of destruction than finesse. Few have the strength—or the will—to wield it properly. Your mother once tried to use it qnd fainted from one battle so i dont really recommend taking it."
Rynhara stepped closer, drawn to the weapon's dark allure. She picked it up, surprised by how naturally it fit in her hands despite its size.
Kaelira whistled. "Now that is overkill."
"Maybe," Rynhara said, smirking. "But it suits me."
After selecting her weapons, Rynhara was informed that each choice came with a specialized tutor.
For the Twin Fan Daggers a nimble rogue named Selara was chosen , who was as sharp-tongued as the daggers she wielded. For the Ebony Katana a stoic swordsman named Master Kaito was chosen, he was well known for his strict discipline and deep respect for the blade.As for the Reaper's Scythe a mysterious individual called Lady Nyx appearedand volunteered herself, she seemed to materialize out of shadows and always spoke in riddles.
"You're going to be very busy," Kaelira teased as the lineup of instructors was introduced.
"And you're not?" Rynhara shot back while looking at her approaching mother.
Kaelira's smirk faltered as Tiamora appeared, her regal presence instantly commanding attention.
"Kaelira," the Dragon Queen said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You've been assigned combat maid training. Your natural aptitude leans toward the role of an assassin nurse. You'll be trained in stealth, combat, and emergency care."
Kaelira's jaw dropped. "Wait, what? A nurse? I'm not patching people up!"
"Oh, but you will," Tiamora said, smiling serenely. "And you'll excel at it."
Rynhara laughed. "So you're my maid, my assassin, and my medic? You're going to be so busy."
"Shut it, Princess," Kaelira grumbled, though her cheeks reddened.
The day ended with Rynhara meeting her new tutors.
Selara immediately had her sprinting through obstacle courses and practicing precise strikes with her twin daggers.
"Speed is everything," Selara barked. "You hesitate, you die."
Master Kaito made her spend hours practicing basic stances with the katana, correcting her posture with a firm, patient hand.
"Control," he said. "Your power means nothing without control."
Lady Nyx's training was the strangest. She led Rynhara to a dark room and had her swing the scythe in silence, her cryptic advice echoing in the shadows.
"Feel the weight of death," Nyx whispered. "Let it guide you, not consume you."
Meanwhile, Kaelira was dragged off to her own training, her protests echoing through the halls.
"Why do I have to learn to sew wounds? This is disgusting!"
"Because," her new instructor said cheerfully, "you can't kill someone efficiently if you don't understand how they're put together."
By the end of the day, Rynhara collapsed onto her bed, exhausted but exhilarated. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so challenged—or so alive.
As she stared at the ceiling, she muttered, "Twin daggers, a katana, and a scythe. What am I, a one-woman army?"
The Voice of the World chimed in her head.
"Congratulations! By embracing your heritage and officially beginning the advent of your path to evil, you have unlocked the Title: Blades of the Villainess."
Rynhara groaned. "Of course."
Kaelira's voice floated in from the hallway. "You're not the only one suffering, you know!"
Rynhara laughed. For once, being a princess didn't seem so bad.