The clang of steel was the soundtrack of her childhood. In FLEX three there's a kingdom called Chakra Balan, ruled by house Veyra. Before the sun stretched over the castle walls, Arlenna would slip into a narrow space behind the training yard, where no one ever looked. From there, she watched her brothers train and spar beneath her father's booming voice.
"Strength is what defines royalty," he would say. "Only the strong deserve to survive."
She memorized every stance, every strike, every correction shouted across the yard and practiced them wherever she could. She learned faster than both of them. She read books in secret on sword techniques and practiced twice as hard. The first time she was caught with a sword, her father's glare felt colder than any blade.
"Princesses do not wield swords," he told her, and the back of his hand snapped across her face. "They stay quiet, and obey"
The punishment was harsh kneeling on stone for hours, but the lesson only drove her deeper into secrecy. From that day forward, she practiced in silence. Her body learned to move without sound, to breathe without giving herself away. The scars on her knees became reminders that pain was proof she was still standing.
She watched, remembered, and one day she stopped chasing their shadows. The older she grew, the smaller her world became. The crawlspace behind the training yard stopped being a place she could use, so she started searching for new corners of the castle to disappear into, anywhere she could watch and learn without being seen.
She got caught more than once, and was dragged out by the wrist or yanked from the shadows like she was something shameful to be put away. At first, her punishments were meant to correct her. Then, they became a form of control.
Her father's words changed from disappointment to disgust. "You shame our name with this obsession," he'd say, gripping her by the wrist until her knuckles turned white. "You were born to watch the throne, not stain your hands like a soldier."
But her hands were already stained with bruises, burns, and the faint white scars left by the metal rods used to "discipline" her. Some marks healed, while others remained. Her mother, Alma'bela, watched in silence out of fear, never once stepping between Arlenna and her father. That silence was louder than any of Arlenna's screams, she wasn't alone though.
Her middle brother, Eron, had the kind of kindness that didn't belong in royalty. When no one was looking, he'd sneak into her room late at night, whispering about how to shift weight on your back foot, and how to use momentum instead of strength.
"Don't force the blade," Eron told her once, handing her a wooden stick shaped like a training sword. "Master the movement, more force will come with time."
For a few weeks, they practiced in secret, quiet laughter echoing through her chamber, until they were caught. The morning after, Eron couldn't stand. His face was swollen so bad both eyes were shut, and his ribs and right arm were heavily bandaged. He never looked her in the eyes or spoke to her again after that, he was forced not to. The guilt broke her heart more than any wound ever could.
Her eldest brother, Darek, was nothing like Eron. Cruelty came easy to him, almost playful. He'd mock her when she walked by the training yard. "Maybe you should try embroidery instead," he'd say, smirking. "Or polishing our armor. That's more your speed, stupid sister." Sometimes he'd throw a wooden sword at her feet to taunt her. "You wouldn't last one swing with me, stupid sister" he'd laugh.
She learned to ignore him, to breathe through the humiliation. But deep down, every sneer and laugh carved something sharper inside her, something that refused to die. By the time she reached sixteen, her body was a map of faded scars and fresh wounds. But her spirit, the thing they tried to break was untamed.
She could copy any technique she saw, move like water through the strikes of men twice her size. She kept her skill hidden, and she endured, but the day was coming when she wouldn't hide anymore. As the years passed, the palace walls began to close in, but Arlenna grew quieter, harder to see. She no longer needed to watch her brothers train. She had already memorized every lazy swing, and every flawed stance they thought was perfect.
The hard part was no longer learning, it was keeping it hidden. She moved her training grounds constantly one night in the abandoned stables, then the forest just beyond the palace gates. She became a ghost within her own kingdom, leaving no trace but footprints in the dust. Her power was growing and so were the punishments.
At first, she used to scream. The sound of it would echo down the corridors, until she couldn't even hear herself. The pain used to tear through her voice. Then came the stage when she stopped screaming. Her body still trembled, tears still slid silently down her cheeks but she made no sound. Eventually, even that stopped. By eighteen, she took every beating in silence. She stood still, unflinching, even as her father's rage grew more violent, a twisted competition to see if he could still make her break. Sometimes she'd wake up with her arms wrapped up, bones crudely set, every movement sending fire through her body.
The healers whispered, "She shouldn't be alive," but she always was.
Her father's orders were clear, keep her alive, but never let her be whole. Each incomplete healing, each lingering ache, was a lesson in obedience, a reminder that her survival was his to control, not hers.
Her father used to try to marry her off, arranging suitors as if she were nothing more than a tool for his ambition. Each time, she sabotaged it, refusing to play the part of a perfect daughter.
"If you cannot be useful as a woman," he spat, "then you are useful for nothing at all."
She tried to cover her face the best she could but he cut her relentlessly. The scars across her face were meant to mark her uselessness, a cruel declaration that she was no longer fit to even please, no longer fit to obey.
The silence became her armor, and her father mistook it for surrender. One night, when she was nineteen, it finally happened. He found her training again this time out in the open in the main courtyard, the moonlight glinted off her blade. She wasn't going to run from him, she was tired of hiding to train.
"Still pretending to be something you're not?" his voice boomed. "Have you not learned your place?"
She said nothing. The sword remained steady in her grip. When he lunged, his strikes carried the full weight of his fury. This time, she did not let them land. Steel met steel, and the clash rang through the courtyard like thunder. Her father froze mid swing, eyes wide. She had blocked him effortlessly.
For a moment, neither of them moved. In that silence, he realized she had surpassed him, he saw it in her stance. For the first time in her life, he looked at her not as a daughter, but as a threat.
His next words came out low, venomous. "Leave this place, you are no longer my blood."
Arlenna's sword lowered. She turned her back to him without a word and walked away, her final act of defiance. For the first time, she wasn't running to hide, she was walking toward freedom. The gates closed behind her with a sound that felt final, like a chapter slamming shut. Arlenna didn't look back, she refused to give her father the satisfaction of seeing her hesitate.
Days passed, weeks maybe. Time blurred and loneliness gnawed quietly at her every night. Then, one day, she heard laughter. She crept closer, silent as possible, parting branches until she saw them, three men surrounding a single woman. The woman had bright, fearless eyes and a half-smile that said she wasn't afraid of any of them.
"Careful, boys," the stranger said, voice laced with amusement. "Stand that close and I might start thinking you're looking for trouble."
Three bodies hit the dirt, disarmed and dazed, trying to understand what just happened. The woman dusted her hands, glanced around as if she knew she was being watched. She looked right where Arlenna was hiding and pointed. "I see you too." Arlenna's pulse jumped.
She stepped closer, "You've got the look of someone who's survived too much." Arlenna didn't move or speak. The woman smiled faintly. "Don't worry, I'm not here to take anything from you." She turned to leave but paused, and looked over her shoulder. "If you ever get tired of surviving alone… come find me."
She disappeared into the trees, leaving Arlenna staring after her, unable to understand why those words made her chest ache. Weeks later, Arlenna found her again, not by chance she looked for her.
Solace, that was her name. The woman who could laugh in danger's face and still make the air feel lighter. At first, Arlenna didn't know what to do with her, Solace was so different, so unafraid. She joked easily, teased everyone around her, and somehow made Arlenna forget the years of silence and control she'd lived under.
When Solace laughed, Arlenna laughed too, awkwardly at first, then without realizing it. For the first time in her life, she felt like she could breathe without being watched. Solace didn't treat her like an outcast or a runaway princess. She treated her like a person who deserved to smile, be silly, and have moments of peace. So in return, Arlenna made a silent vow, anyone who tries to take that smile away from Solace will face her first.
The road stretched on for days, and Solace talked the whole way. She talked about places she wanted to see, food she wanted to try, and about how one day they'd have an airship with a cool name and maybe matching jackets
"Nothing corny though," Solace insisted, while saying the corniest names imaginable.
When the rooftops of their first town came into view, Solace just got more excited. "Finally! People! Do you think they have fried noodles here? Oh! Or that honey bread stuff, you know with the sugar lily dust."
Her excitement crashed the moment they stepped into the market. Shouting vendors, clanging metal, and people moving too fast and too close. Solace froze mid-step, her breath catching in her throat. Arlenna noticed instantly. Solace's eyes darted from one sound to another, her shoulders tightening.
Arlenna stepped close, getting her attention "Woah, woah, relax mode, we are good, let's go this way." and smiled, Solace blinked, her breathing slowing a little. She nodded, repeating softly to herself, "Relax mode… relax mode…"
Arlenna guided her through a cluster of people. They stopped by a quiet fountain, the noise fading to background hum.
Solace took a deep breath, "Sorry," she said, "I thought I could handle it, I just… all the sounds hit at once."
Arlenna sat beside her and handed her a cup of water. "You don't have to apologize." Solace looked at her, eyes flicking like she was searching for something in Arlenna's face, disapproval, annoyance, pity. But there was none.
Arlenna smiled, "That's why we have modes, we'll figure it out."
For a long moment, Solace didn't say anything. Then she grinned weakly. "You're pretty good at this whole 'being a friend' thing."
Arlenna grinned, "Never had practice."
"Same," Solace said, then she thought for a second. "Well that's not true… actually M'appelle's not really a friend he's just M'appelle."
Later that evening, they found themselves at a small food stall where an old woman was selling fried noodles just like Solace had hoped. The woman laughed as she watched Solace's face light up at the first bite.
"You two travelers?" she asked.
Solace nodded, noodles still hanging from her mouth. "Crew," she said proudly after swallowing. "We're a crew." Arlenna looked surprised, then smiled.
The old woman nodded approvingly. "Then you'll do just fine. Crews that eat together last longer than crews that fight together."
Solace pointed at Arlenna. "See? We're already pros."
Arlenna laughed quietly, but inside, her chest felt warm again. For the first time in her life, the world didn't feel so big and empty.
That night, under the stars, Solace lay awake, tracing shapes in the sky with her finger."Arlenna?"
"Mm?" Arlenna mumbled
"When we get strong enough… let's make our own crew for real. With a name and everything," Solace said.
Arlenna smiled, "What would we call it?"
Solace thought for a moment, then said, "The Ultra Amazing Mega Fantastical Duo Crew."
Arlenna gave her a strange look, "Now how did you come up with that?"
Solace grinned sleepily, "Because it's still just us, and we're going to be ridiculously ultra Amazing."
Arlenna laughed, shaking her head, "Then the world should be worried."