Sora Brontarion
It was early morning in the mountainous city of Orunza. I sat on the empty storm bridge, watching the sun peek above the clouds and the lightning flicker within them. Something my grandmother and I did often together.
There are always two sides to a storm. One of her many sayings, she said. Back then, before I connected to the Sango Mata constellation. I didn't understand what she meant. I still don't fully, but sparks are forming.
I wish I had more time with her. There was so much for me to learn from her, and the remaining members of the coterie here in the capital are low-ranking sisters, and are pushovers to my father, diminishing the importance of spiritual connection.
The last Storm Mother, my grandma, was the head of the Coterie. It was hard for any clan to resist her influence and wisdom. During that time, our clan had its strongest relationship with our High Pantheon. We were blessed with plentiful harvests, amazing luck with mining for cloudstell and celestium, and fewer people died during the storms throughout the year.
Now that's not so much the case. To the average person, the country of Shangora seems fine, but those in the sisterhood have begun to notice the effects of the weakened relationship in our country and in the rest of the world, too.
The portcullis groaned upward, its iron beams scraping stone as links rattled in the pulley system. The gatehouse to the Storm Bridge opened, allowing the merchants from the smithing city, Cloud Steel Road, to enter the capital.
The shallow hum of the transport's engines told me it was my time to leave. I activated my dimensional storage and pulled out a portable zipline, one of the many gadgets the royal armament technicians had created for me.
I crawled up on the side of the storm bridge, getting out of the way of the vehicles traveling through. I leaned over the side and attached one end of the zipline to the outer wall of the bridge. I charged it with electricity so it would magnetize and stick to the surface.
The other end had a scope and a wire made cloudstell with a pointed end. I brought the scope to my eye and funneled cosmic energy through it, allowing me to see through the clouds and aim at my target.
The target was the Stormglass spires.
I inhaled, aimed, and shot the wire. A moment passed until I felt the thud of the pointed end hitting the target. I took out my gloves made out of magnet-infused cloth and coated them with electricity.
My hands clung to the wire, and I propelled myself down through the clouds.
The rush was exhilarating, as I passed through the static meiasma of clouds resting above Orunza. No wonder Jace spent so much time up here. I was surprised I didn't see him here.
My zipline ride was short. When I broke through the layer of clouds, I saw the stormglass spires. The large crystalline structure dazzled as it absorbed the lighting that struck it. This was one of the most sacred locations in Orunza and a major tourist attraction. It converted lighting into energy that helped power the capital.
But that wasn't the only reason. It was also the same place where we interacted with our fallen kin.
A fact that many seemed to care less about.
When I landed at the base of the Stromglass spire, I noticed kids were huddled up. I put away my zipline and walked closer to them.
I realized these were the kids of our servants, who were a couple of years younger than me. Jace and I used to play with them before Father demanded we put more time into our preparation for Xhatal Academy.
One of the kids was crying while the others tried to console her.
"Hey guys, what's the matter?" I ask, walking over to the group.
The group of girls quickly shifted their gaze to me.
"It's nothing. A princess should not worry for her servants," the crying girl said.
"I don't know who made that rule, but I will always care about my people. So what's wrong?"
The group of girls exchanged glances.
"Ojora's father passed last month. He left her a necklace, and when she took it off to clean it, it slipped out of her hand and fell off the cliff, and now she is afraid she has nothing to remember him by," one of the girls said, speaking for Ojora.
The news amplified the emotions I absorbed from her, reminding me of the day I lost my grandma.
My chin trembled before I spoke.
"I'm sorry for your loss. But I don't think all is lost. We are at a good as place as any to help with remembering a loved one."
"Princess Sora, please. We have been instructed not to give in to farces."
"A farce?"
"Sorry, princess, but the Coterie has all been run out of town for falsifying the experience."
The sadness I felt began to dissipate rapidly.
So much has happened in just a few short months.
"Come on, follow me; I will show you it is no farce."
We marched across the glossy structure until I reached the top of the spire. The moist wind brushed past me, speckling me with light raindrops. I sat down, legs crossed, and stared up into storm clouds.
"Grandma, help me guide these young girls in building a strong connection with their fallen kin and with the High Pantheon, charge the lightning with your wisdom, and bless me with your insight," I said, my voice fighting against the rumbling thunder from above.
I waited, my palms resting on my knees, as I counted the strikes of lightning that lashed out on the terrain around me.
I waited, trying to visualize my grandmother's face.
I waited, wondering what shape her spirit would take.
The longer I waited, the more my heart thundered like the storm.
I waited for what felt like an eternity.
The group of kids began to give me weary looks.
No sign, no vestige, no lightning struck down into my palms.
"Princess Sora, we have to go back; our parents are calling for us," the kids said, their voices a bit shaky.
They lied.
I understood. The moment was awkward, and they didn't want to get on the bad side of royalty.
The high Pantheon and our kin must be angry. Why else would they not answer my call?
I stood and shrieked into the sky, my anger swirling like a tempest.
I felt it when we first arrived back home; the connection weakened. The people of the capital felt the need only to fulfill their personal desires.
If only they could feel what I feel. The melancholy of the sky as it wept its grief upon the world.
I needed to change this.
Father's ideals have hindered our clan. We could be doing so much more; people wouldn't be struggling.
But he is as dense as a Cumulonimbus.
The only way for people to see that what they are doing is wrong is for me to follow in Grandma's footsteps.
I will be the head of the Coterie, and my influence will bring back our beautiful country and people to a place of prosperity and unity.
But I have to be able to lead a cluster properly first.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and repeated the breathing practice until I calmed down.
"Soon, Grandma, I'll lead us back to the right path," I whispered to the sky, turning away from the clouds to head back into the palace.