Firefly

Prologue

Since hundreds of years ago the Queen came from the line of witches. However, only female in the family inherited the gift, even the throne. For several hundred of years, there was no internal conflict between the royal members. Everyone knew and accepted the rule. Not a person tried to go against the tradition as the Queen ruled the country with fairness and brought in wealth, a prosperous country.

However, as the time passed by, greed starting to blossom in one of them and what used to be enough was no longer enough. More was better and the only way to get more was to take over the throne.

Plans were made secretly. No one was to know the plot. In front of the Queen and her family, he pasted a bright smile and solemn behaviour. He smiled at the little princess even though he wanted so much to wring her neck, to kill the next Queen. He had to wait for the right time to kill them. And when that time came, he would use his own hand to end the Queen’s life, he vowed to himself and smiled when the princess lifted her head and smiled at him.

Being a royal, he deserved to be the next in line, especially when he was older than the Queen. Even without the gift, he had no doubt he could rule the country with the same result. He shared the same bloodline so obviously he would be able to decide wisely in term of the country’s future.

When he reached back to his quarter, his body was shivering with anger and frustration. He should be the one wearing the crown, not his little sister.

“Father!”

He looked down at his own son, just barely eight-years old. He must start his plan now to secure his son’s future as the next King of the kingdom.

The attack was sudden. No one, not even his wife knew about it. In fact, she and their son were fast asleep in their room.

He entered the Royal room, along with his own soldiers, killing everyone blocking their without mercy.

“What is the meaning of this, brother?” the Queen asked, looking at her older brother with cold eyes.

“I’m here to take my lawful place and you, dear sister, will hand me my crown,” he said cheerfully, acting as if it was common for them to gather in the room in the middle of the night with swords aiming at each other.

“Have you forgotten, dear brother, that only woman take the crown,” she cocked an eyebrow, not worry at the sight of swords and violence.

“I’m starting a new era, dear sister, with the man inheriting the crown,” he brushed an invisible dust from his coat and smiled at her.

“And these are the one going to help you dethrone me?”

He lifted up his right hand and let it dropped. However, before his men could carry out the order, she lifted her own hand and waved it, making each one of the soldiers fell down, holding their chest. He did not flitch seeing his men dropped dead. In fact, the smile never left his face as he clapped his hands.

“Your talent seems to grow, dear sister.”