When they were born, Raphael and Narissa had no way of knowing that they would become mortal enemies. Their parents gathered them around when they were ten, telling them about their powers. Raphael inherited his father’s necromancy; Narissa, her mother’s growth magic. Together, they could do beautiful things for the world. But they became bitter, each one wanting the other’s gift. “If only I could raise this bird from the dead,” Narissa would call. “If only I could grow my own crops!” Raphael would counter. They refused to help eachother with their wishes, something that would have been so easy. They were too proud.

Raphael inherited his father’s necromancy tower when the patriarch died. Three days later, Narissa inherited her mother’s garden heights, painted a deep red and crafted of brick. The necromany tower was like a tenement: black, rusted steel rose to the sky. And between them, a white, windowed bridge linked the siblings. Their parents had loved the bridge because it brought them closer to together; Raphael and Narissa began to plot for how they could destroy it. Raphael raised his dead, but they could not tear the bridge down. Narissa grew weeds and poisonous plants within, but nothing consumed them.

And from the street below, onlookers saw only two sweet, elderly siblings cleaning out their old homes.