Page 7 of A Sky of Storms
“Go again?”
“Nah,” Flynn replied. “I got called into city hall for a meeting scheduled soon.”
“What for?”
“No idea, but maybe after I’ll check in on your mum,” he said with a sly grin. “She’s been looking fine lately.”
“Don’t make me cut your eyes out,” I said, shooting him a half-hearted glare. I knew he wouldn’t touch my mum like that. He respected her too much. My dad too.
They were the heads of House Mars, making them the leaders of the Crimson Steppes. Our city in the sands had been crumbling to dust for a long time, our people struggling to survive with minimal resources, nothing to trade, and a failing council. My parents’ seat was under threat, and House Mars was falling, but they were still respected despite it all. Especially since they nominated anyone who wanted to go to the trials.
They’d used the last of their credits to make sure anyone who wanted to compete could. Deeming it a worthy challenge to show who was the strongest of all from not only the Crimson Steppes but the entire country. The other Houses would be throwing as many young people as they could find at the trials in the hope they would win power, and they had enough credits to pay for it too. My parents weren’t as rich, but they were resourceful and knew well enough that this was the Crimson Steppes’ last chance to save itself.
Power was everything in Terrulia, and every House happily sacrificed its best candidates between the ages of twenty and twenty-five to compete, knowing only one would walk away the winner.
It was about time The Crimson Steppes had a win, and I would be the one to deliver it.
The people of Terrulia believed in modern advancement and technology, so what better way to start a new reign than with someone young and fresh and not so set in their ways?
“It’d make me look like a badass. King Flynn Stewart the Eyeless,” he said, making his way down the cliff.
“More like second,” I replied, catching up and dropping an arm over his shoulder. “The crown is mine, bro, there’s no way you’re gonna beat me, but maybe I can get you a little badge or something made.” I tapped him on the chest. “‘Badass Advisor.’”
Flynn laughed. “Might have to get rid of you in your sleep.”
I grinned, thinking back to when we were kids, and my parents organised some camp for a bunch of us. We’d spent the week doing competitions, and of course, I won every single one of them. Not because my parents ran the thing but because I was, and always have been, the best. You couldn’t call it favouritism when I was a league ahead of the rest in speed, skill and strength.
Flynn had been pissy about coming second, so he tried to eliminate the competition. One night he dragged me out of the tent and tried to bury me, sleeping bag and all, in the sand. He was surprisingly stealthy about it. But I played dead until I scared the shit out of him mid-bury.
We’d thrown a few fists, then slept out under the stars together.
“Remember how last time went?”
“I was six. This time would be different,” he replied with a huff. “Though maybe I’ll pack some stuff to make s’mores just in case.”
“Beers too.” I slapped him on the back and teleported home, leaving him and the cliffside behind.
“You’re late,” my father scolded as soon as I appeared in the house. Despite my parents being the head of House Mars, our home wasn’t as glamorous as those I’d seen on TV in places like Stormcrest City or Tritosa. We didn’t have the credits nor the resources here, but compared to everyone else in the sand bowl, we were living very comfortably. “All we ask is you have dinner with us one night a week, and you can’t even make it on time.”
“I was training with Flynn,” I replied, dropping into a seat at the table. “Mum’s not even here yet.”
“Her meeting’s running late,” he said, returning to chopping the vegetables on the bench. He was a big guy, built like a boulder with muscles that could break skulls without a thought, not that he would ever do it. My dad was a walking contradiction. Hard and intimidating on the outside yet soft like a marshmallow on the inside. “It takes time to work out the logistics of supply distribution.”
“Soon, we won’t have to worry about that,” I said. I leant forward, resting my muscled forearms on the table. “The Crimson Steppes won’t be scraping around to make do much longer.”
“We are sending our best.”
I grinned. “I won’t let you down.”
“We know,” my mum said as she strode into the room. Her long red hair was like a burning blaze that fell to her broad shoulders, and a warm smile graced her lips. She kissed my father before sitting beside me, squeezing my wrist in greeting. “You always do us proud.”
I wasn’t a soppy sucker, but I’d seen how shit some people’s parents were, and I was glad I got these guys. In fact, the entirety of the Crimson Steppes was lucky to have my parents. It didn’t matter the number of credits in your bank account or social standing, all that mattered was your strength and your drive to take what was yours. My parents cared about this city. Those opportunistic assholes that were trying to steal House Mars were going to fuck us all over if I didn’t win the trials.
“House Mars is not going to bow any longer,” I said, raising my chin. I looked from my mum to my dad and held my tone firm. “I’m going to save the city.”
My parents beamed. The crown was mine.
I woke to hands grabbing my wrists and ankles. I roared as my senses kicked in and my skin turned to rock. It was pitch black, but that wouldn’t stop me from beating the shit out of my best friend for this stunt. Then I’d eat about fifty s’mores.
