Prologue
The tremendous noises and fiery flashes echoed across the world. No one ever estimated it would change the whole history. Everyone thought it was some leonid meteor shower until the fireball crashed to the ground. The murk crowded over the earth. The new rebellion rises from the billowing fumes, which upholds the entire life and takes hold of the whole human anatomy. The beginning at the end of the typical human era.
“So, smoke becomes our power?” I giggle, forming a spark of electricity through friction of my thumb and index finger.
“Ofcourse, dear." my grandpa replies. “Some people think it was a sin to this world and on other hand it turns out to be a gift.”
I argue, “How could they hate it? I could make an electric strike with the snap of my fingers.” I extended my index finger to the ceiling, a blink, a strike passed through my finger which burst into tiny twinkling sparkles, slowly dancing and falling down.
“It's dangerous.” my grandpa warns.
“It won't affect us, grandpa.” I defend.
“Fibres will.” He says, I sigh, I look down at the bedsheet, shot of small tiny holes caused by the sparkles. “Sorry, Grandpa.” I apologise.
“However, you're not wrong. Various powers reformed from smoke. It's actually the coolest." He ruffles my hair gently, I grumpy as I push his hand away, “Grandpa, stop it. You're messing up my hair.”
He smiles and continues, “people appreciate fire, not smoke.” He pauses, “Sometimes, stronger the power will mislead.”
“Enough for today. Time to sleep, dear.” Grandpa pats my head.
I never knew it would become our last exchange and his last breath of his existence. I'm standing in a black gown, simple and elegant, yet expensive enough to manage the whole year of one's normal life. Unnecessary royal rituals.
It's not my first time to say goodbye to the person, but it was different from before. I never knew my mother when I was born to regret her loss.
“BREAKING NEWS: Headlines: Thunder volt’s Elderly Interim Sovereign, Former King, Brontes Amber died, Volt regime collapses”
“Bullet-in: Tension escalates as the Ice realm issues an immediate threat of war and the fire ministry stands firm.”
The News ran in front of my screen. There's a knock at my door as my lady maid Amaya, in her forties, enters. “Princess Azurelle,” she calls. “The press conference is about to begin.” she informs me.
I nod. My lips act according to the protocol of being royalty.
No cries. A genuine, forged demeanor.
I remember every deliberation they instruct me on before my presence in front of the cameras. The pressure consumes me before I step in.
I take a deep breath, inhaling the weight. The whole world scrutinizes, “I, Azurelle Amber, princess of thunder volt, taking charge as the interim sovereign and announce my intention to stand as the next line of future queen respectively,” The crowd buzzes. Taking the throne at the age of seven is a serious challenge.
I started to miss Brontes Amber’s presence already, very much, immensely.
