THE DARK PRINCE

The Physician Daughters

Episodes 5 and 6

Keisha and Keshai

Two young women, elegantly attired in pristine white gowns, gracefully navigated the dense forest terrain. One carried a sword at her side, while the other bore a bow and arrow slung across her back. Their hair gleamed beautifully; one possessed brown hair, while the other's was black, cascading down to their hips. Both were remarkably tall, with the brown-haired individual having brown eyes, and the one with black hair possessing deep black eyes, imparting a somewhat enigmatic appearance. Although they bore a striking resemblance, distinguishing them was not difficult, as one had full lips while the other had heart-shaped lips. Their movements and conversations revealed distinct personalities; the brown-haired one laughed frequently, whereas the other conversed with a subtle smile. Their voices, however, remained inaudible. Suddenly, the brown-haired individual playfully tapped the arm of her black-haired companion. The black-haired one then exclaimed, "Keisha, how many times have I requested that you refrain from striking me when you laugh?" "I apologize, Keshai; your humorous remarks are simply too amusing to ignore, and besides, it was merely a gentle tap," Keisha replied. "Should I strike your arm so you can comprehend the discomfort it causes, you foolish imbecile?" Keshai responded through gritted teeth. "I apologize, but do you realize that we are not so different, and yet you continue to speak ill of me?" Keisha retorted. Keshai scoffed, "You are deceiving yourself. We are entirely different beings. Every hair on my body is black, while yours is brown, and our eye colors differ completely. We may both excel as physicians, but I am highly skilled in sword-fighting, whereas you struggle with it, and you are proficient in archery, which I am only somewhat competent at." Before she could conclude, Keisha interjected, "You are not even slightly adept at archery; accept this fact and find peace!" Keshai continued, "You are a cool, composed individual but a hidden villain that no one knows about..." Before she could finish, her sister interrupted again, "While you are a rude, cold, and harsh person, you are also a fragile individual that no one knows about. And I am not a villain; your personality simply seems suited to taking the blame," she remarked with a teasing smile. Keshai stared at her sister and took slow steps forward, stating, "I may be many things, but I am not fragile." Keisha ran after her sister, blocking her path, "Hey, hey, do not take my words to heart; I was merely teasing." Keshai scoffed, "Whatever." Keisha suddenly smiled, prompting her sister to inquire, "What is the reason for the peculiar smile?" "Let us go see that long-haired man again," she suggested, clinging to her sister. "What? No, no, no, no. What is wrong with you? We nearly got caught last time. I do not understand what you find fascinating about the man; he is merely a villager with a commendable stature," Keshai responded. "What do you mean? Have you noticed his grey eyes, his muscles, his long hair, his dimples when he smiles, and that older man? He appears so heavenly; he is truly a nice person, and I am going to marry him because he is handsome!" Keisha replied with a dreamy expression. In frustration, her sister retorted angrily, "A nice person? You think the devil has horns, as did our mother. Surprisingly, the devil possesses a pleasant face, a loving aura, and a heavenly stature, but guess what? We are both fatherless; our father abandoned us because we were supernaturals! And now, you wish to marry someone with the same traits? Unbelievable!" Keisha shivered slightly, not out of fear, but because it was true that the long-haired man and their father were quite similar. "But not every man would be like our father," she insisted. Keshai gently held her sister's face in her palms and said, "Listen, dear Keisha, our sole purpose is to heal the sick and combat disease in any manner we can, while our mother finds us suitable husbands to continue our lineage. Beyond that, remain focused and do not fall for any deceitful man, alright?" "Alright, sister," Keisha replied. They both hugged each other, and after a few seconds, they let go of each other, looking around. Keisha asked, "Can you perceive it?" "Yes, that scent is not friendly," replied Keshai. "No," her sister argued, "it smells nice." "What? What's wrong with our sense of smell?" Keshai inquired while she rubbed her nose and sniffed around. "I tell you, this scent isn't good; I can perceive it," she said, moving in the left direction, while Keisha argued, "It really smells nice; it's an innocent yet powerful scent," she said, heading in the right direction. Keshai unleashed her sword and held it out, "I know you're hiding somewhere there, come out and let's do this easily," Keshai said aloud. Suddenly, Keisha screamed, making Keshai turn around sharply, "What is it?" but her words got stuck in her throat. It was the wounded Asher, bleeding from his arm, shirtless again, and breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down. He then pointed in Keshai's direction, "Rogues, ro-ro-rogues, they're coming," he stuttered, "they're so many." Keisha rushed to hold him, "The blade that was used on him was poisoned; he might not survive it. He needs some herbs," she panicked. "Hold him and go, find a safe place and apply the herbs, I'll wait for the rogues," Keshai replied. "No, he said they were too many. Let's run to the village together and inform the soldiers," Keisha said. Keshai shook her head and said, "They can't be too many for me, and I must stop the blades from entering the village; it's dangerous. Go, run, hurry, be fast." "Okay, be safe. Let's go, long-haired guy," with that, Keisha turned around and left with Asher. Keshai turned around, swinging her sword, "Okay, okay, that's enough play. I tend to pick up bad scents rather than good ones, come on out!" Immediately, over fifty peculiar-looking humans emerged, some with bull heads, some with iron features, some with long tails, some with fangs and claws, and each held a machete that was poisoned. Keshai could perceive the poison, "Okay, let's get this over with," She kept sheathed her sword and tied her black hair back and exhaled once.

Then she moved.

The first three reached her in a lurching rush. She dropped beneath the lead creature's wide swing, feeling the blade part the air above her head, and came up inside its guard. Her elbow found its jaw. Her hand found its wrist. She stripped the machete clean and spun it into her own grip without breaking stride, driving her heel backward into the knee of the one behind her. It folded. She finished it with the flat of her new blade across its skull and stepped over the body before it stopped moving.

She fought the way her mother had taught her, not with strength, but with understanding. Her mother had mapped the human body like territory to be known intimately, every joint, every pressure point, every place where force, precisely applied, became undeniable. Keshai had listened. She had practiced. She had never stopped.

And her father, well. He had left when she was young enough that his absence had become its own kind of teacher.

She didn't think about him now.

She moved through the creatures like water finding cracks in stone. When they swung, she wasn't there. When they surrounded her, she broke the ring before it closed, always turning, always reading the lean of a shoulder or the angle of a blade before the strike arrived. A joint lock here. A sweep there. She disarmed them as often as she killed them, sending machetes skidding across the ground behind her, building a pile she intended to collect before she left.

Thirty down. She wasn't breathing hard yet.

The poison on the blades came close more than once a swing that grazed the air beside her jaw, an edge that cut through the fabric at her side without touching skin. She moved clean. She always moved clean. Her mother's voice lived somewhere behind her ribs: A body that understands itself doesn't get caught.

The last ten rushed together, desperate and snarling. She let them tangle each other in the space she vacated and worked through the chaos methodically strike, disarm, move, strike again. Efficient. Unhurried in her mind even when her body was blur.

The final creature stood alone. Taller than the rest. Still.

Keshai crossed to it in four steps, took the machete from its grip in two seconds flat, and put it down with one precise strike.

Silence settled over the forest.

She stood in it a moment, black eyes sweeping the scattered blades. Fifty of them. She began gathering them carefully, wrapping the poisoned edges in strips of torn cloth, bundle by bundle.

She had work to do. She wrapped them all in one torn clothes and went her way to find her twin.