We wander through the streets for God knows how long until we are greeted with the greatest sight a human can witness. We’d walked through to the other side of the suburbs, and we were greeted with a huge circular valley that was so massive I could not see the other side.
Inside the valley, there were numerous towering skyscrapers, yet none even came close to the top of the valley. Except one. A huge glass tower situated right at the centre towered far above all of its surrounding buildings. Its peak barely reached above the edge, only by about ten metres or so.
To the right of the valley, a huge sea spread as far as I could see. Contrarily, to the left of the valley, a few houses littered the rim. The cluster of houses to the left was nowhere near as large as the suburban area we had just walked through, yet it was still striking to see.
Despite finding myself at the very edge of what seemed to be a one-hundred-metre-deep valley, I felt completely calm and tranquil. I found myself gazing at the huge tower at the centre in awe. It may have been an abnormally large pile of glass, yet it was strangely beautiful.
‘Whoa,’ Jay said, his voice faint. That one word seemed to sum up what we were all thinking perfectly.
‘This,’ says the old gentleman, ‘will be your new home. If you so wish, that is.’
He then leads us over to a purple semi-dome. It was shaped like a city bus stop. The inside of this semi-dome was quite strange. It seemed to be alive. Swirling shades of purple encased us.
‘This is surreal,’ Jay said, dazed.
I’m not sure what happened, but the old gentleman placed his hand on my shoulder with a tight grip, and then my body seemed to lose itself. Every limb seemed to detach from my body momentarily before re-attaching themselves without any pain or effort.
I re-open my eyes, not realising I had closed them in anticipation of gut-wrenching pain. We appear to be at the side of a very busy road, and upon a few more seconds of inspection, I realise that we are inside of the huge valley that we had been gazing down into not seconds ago. It was quite a peculiar feeling, looking up and seeing the edges of the valley, it felt strange, as though I were sitting in a bowl.
Wordlessly, I begin to follow the group, which had already begun to walk purposefully down the road away from me. Curious gazes pierce me from all directions, and I stare firmly at the ground, ignoring everybody around me. Not daring to look up due to fear of being watched by hundreds of unknown faces, I find interest in my own shoes hitting the ground.
Suddenly, I collide with Asbel, and one of the young men grabs my arm to stop me from hitting the ground. Tightening my jaw as sweat falls slowly down my face, I look up. A wave of shock and awe washes over me like a runaway train. Our unusual group stood right at the base of that huge tower that is placed perfectly at the centre of the valley. The huge glass structure looms over me, sending a strange shiver down my spine as I gaze up at its considerable size.
Inside, the ‘lobby’ is quite standard. Directly in front of the main doors, at the back of the room, there is a reception area, with a counter laden with leaflets and information booklets. A short, dark-skinned man stands behind the counter, scrolling on his phone. On the left of the room, there are two green sofas, each being able to seat three people, and the right side of the room mirrors this. Just to the right of the reception counter are some stairs heading upwards.
Ethan leans over to me and whispers in my ear, ‘At some point, we’ve all gotta have a race from here to the top.’
‘Bet.’ I say confidently. ‘I’ll win.’
‘You said that when you raced William at school.’
‘Yeah?’
‘You lost.’
‘Shut up.’
To my right, Maltor groans and falls forwards before slowly propping himself up on his elbows. The two young men help him to his feet, after passing Quinn over to the women. Maltor looks at me with a look of tired dread, a look I haven’t seen for quite some time.
He nods slightly at me. Slight enough to go unnoticed by everybody else, but just enough for me to realise that Maltor was not okay, and he was begging to leave. Just that nod told me more than Maltor could ever convey with his mouth.
Even I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. From what I’d heard so far, this place seemed like the perfect home for someone like me, but on the other hand, ever since we got here, my breathing had been more rapid than usual. I felt finicky and panicked. An overwhelming sense of dread seemed to have crushed all of the air from my lungs, and I couldn’t even look my best friends in the eye. I was confused and scared.
I felt hot tears creep into my eyes, and my throat closed. I cursed myself for going on such a long thought train. Hurriedly, I stare at my feet for what seems like the millionth time in the past half hour.
A battle between conflicting thoughts rattles my brain. On one hand, I am unimaginably thankful for this new home. It’s offering a safe haven for me, and I’ve been searching for one of those for 10 years. On the other hand, however, I can’t help but ask myself why they’re doing this for me. Pity? Power? Or am I the missing piece to their puzzle?
I also can’t possibly ask the friends I’ve known for a little over two months to change their entire lives because of me, can I? What kind of friend would do that? I threw them into this mess, and even if they don’t stay in RoCity with me, they will undoubtedly suffer because of tonight. It’s not like Amy will forget about their existence, even if my friends forget about hers. A horrifying shiver shoots down my spine at the thought of Amy breaking into my friends’ homes to do indescribable things to them and their families because of me.
‘Your rooms are on the tenth floor,’ the old man says. ‘You can either take the lift or the stairs, whichever you prefer.’
Wordlessly, Ethan and I sling our bags from our shoulders and dash for the stairs as fast as we can. All of my past thoughts seem to vanish in my head as I try to enjoy this one instance of joy with my friend. Looking behind me, I notice that I am at least ten steps ahead of him. Once we reach the second floor, I can hear Ethan panting, but I’ve been genetically modified to have high stamina.
‘I can do this all day!’ I call back to Ethan. Immediately, I hear his hurried footsteps resume once more. Third floor. Fourth floor. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Eighth. And then we were at the ninth. Sweat was pouring down my face, and it was taking all I had not to pant like a dog. My legs were beginning to feel weak, and I gritted my teeth and carried on.
‘Keep…moving…forward!’ I said to myself.
As I turn onto the final stretch of steps, I see the rest of my friends along with the new people waiting for Ethan and me. The looks on their faces range from boredom to mild annoyance.
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, I turn to face Ethan and give him a satisfied smirk. My mind was buzzing as I stared down the corridor that I would live in for an indefinite amount of time.
The old gentleman looked down at me with a warm smile.
‘Albert, your room is the one on the end of the corridor on the right,’ he said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. ‘Natasha, you’re opposite him. Jay, you’re in the room to his left. Ethan, opposite Jay. And Asbel, you’re in the room to Ethan’s left. Maltor’s room is next to Jay’s, and Quinn, you’re next to that.’
Nobody hesitated. We all dashed down the corridor to our rooms, yet nobody could get in. Asbel was the first to realise that we all needed keys, and he consequently turned to interrogate the old gentleman, whom I quickly realised was still unnamed. It was quite a bizarre sight. Little 4’11” Asbel getting grumpy at a 60-year-old man that was easily over 6 feet tall.
The old man chuckles and hands everyone their keys. As everyone rushes into their rooms I stay out in the corridor. I stare at the old man dead in his eyes and attempt to give him my most forcing glare.
‘Who even are you?’ I say sternly. I pour as much steel into my gaze as possible, trying to force an answer out of him.
The old man looks at me. It suddenly seems as though he is holding back tears as if his entire life had been building up to this one moment.
‘My name’s Steven,’ he said, ‘but you can call me Grandad.’
My mind was completely and utterly blank. Grandad? How was that possible? My entire family was dead, and if they weren’t then they’d certainly forgotten that I existed. This man, right here in front of me, was my own grandfather? That was simply impossible. I felt dazed, I felt sick, I felt as though I was going to collapse and never stand again.
‘Y-you’re my grandad? My own grandad?’ I say, my voice faltering. Hot tears creep into my eyes but I don’t care. I’m sick and tired of bottling it all up, holding it all in. The tears swim down my face as Grandad slowly nods.
‘I have no reason to lie to you, Albert,’ he says, his voice portraying complete calmness, yet he still looks as though he is holding back tears for his life. ‘Your mother, Catherine, was my daughter, which would of course leave us as grandfather and grandson.’
He places his hand comfortingly on my shoulder. I look up into his eyes and his image is blurred by the flood of my tears. My head is throbbing. My body feels as though it’s about to cave in on itself, and it feels as though I’ve been trying not to be sick for the past hour.
‘I implore you not to tell any of your friends yet, as this seems more like a matter that only bothers us, right?’ he says warmly. ‘Come to my room on the second to the top floor whenever you feel ready to talk again, as I've only just scratched the surface.’
He turns and walks back into the lift, pressing the button for the correct floor. He smiles and gives me a little wave before the doors to the lift close. I shakily walk to the room at the end of the corridor and unlock it with the key that Grandad had given to me.
Stepping inside, I find myself standing in a sort of short grey-walled corridor. There is another door to my left, and opening it I find quite a sizeable bathroom complete with its own shower, bath, sink, mirror, toilet, and every other bathroom necessity. Across from the bathroom is yet another door and behind it lies a large wardrobe. Not a walk-in kind, but it is pretty big. After roughly three-to-five steps more down the corridor, I reach the end. Once at the end I find myself in what appears to be the living room of the apartment. In the centre, there lies a rectangular mahogany table, with a fruit bowl complimenting the top. On the right wall there sits a flatscreen TV, and it causes me to wonder just how rich RoCity actually is. Facing the said TV is a green sofa, and I immediately began to long for those nights when I could sit on the sofa, prop my feet onto the table and watch the telly.
On the left of the living room is the kitchen, and the apartment appears to be quite open-plan, as there is no wall between the living room and the kitchen. Aside from that, the kitchen seems to be quite standard, for a rich place. Marble counters outline the area, with an oven and stove near the window, and a sink next to that. There is a white fridge in the corner, but when I open it there is only a singular packet of cheese.
It is now that I notice the sunset, gleaming at me through the huge windows lining the entire side of the room. From the ceiling to the floor of the living area and kitchen, there are huge glass windows, which would seem a privacy issue to some, but even if there weren’t curtains, I wouldn’t have minded.
As I take my shoes off, I begin to wonder where I am supposed to sleep. I have slept on the streets before, so sleeping on a sofa would be a huge step-up, but I wouldn’t put it past a place like this to have a bedroom.
My question is answered before I even have time to think about it much. I walk over to the TV to try and see how to work it and notice a door to the right. Opening it, my jaw drops farther than it ever has before. The carpet beneath my feet feels soft and welcoming, and I curl my toes to soak up as much of it as I can. In the centre of the left wall lies a queen-size bed decorated with a plain blue duvet and pillows. On the far side of the room sits a wooden desk and chair, which is one of the most exciting things about the room for me. Directly opposite the foot of the bed is yet another door, yet it leads into the same large wardrobe that I can access from the corridor.
I sling my backpack onto the floor and walk back out towards the bathroom to see if there are any towels inside of the cupboards. There are. With zero hesitation, I undress and step inside the shower, making sure to turn it to a nice warm temperature. I do not know how long I was in the shower, but once I finish drying and putting on some spare clothes I found in the wardrobe, the sunset had already finished.
Heading back into my bedroom, I can feel my body finally giving up. I fall backwards onto the mattress and feel my body sink into the smoothness. Everything slowly fades to darkness before I even have a chance to think about anything in the slightest.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
***
I am awoken by someone knocking on my door. Hard. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I slowly rise, my body still feeling weak. I walk out of my bedroom and see that it is completely dark outside. No moon, no stars, just the city lights glaring at me from below. I walk down my corridor and open the front door to my apartment. Ethan is standing there.
‘What time is it?’ I ask, my voice croaky.
‘Half ten,’ he replies, sounding completely awake and ready to start the day.
‘How long have you been knocking on the door for?’
‘At least a minute, were you asleep?’
‘No,’ I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘I’ve been fully awake since we got here.’
‘That old man-’
‘His name is Steven,’ I say, snapping myself awake for the sole purpose of correcting Ethan.
Ethan’s eyebrows furrow together slightly, but he continues nonetheless. ‘Steven said he’ll talk to us all in the morning once you woke up, but Asbel’s asking if we all wanna watch a film or something.’
‘How?’
‘The TV, idiot,’ Ethan rolls his eyes.
‘No, idiot, how did he get his hands on DVDs?’
‘Quinn said he had some in his bag, I dunno why, so then Asbel got the idea to watch a film.’
‘Fine, I’ll come watch a film, but don’t blame me if I fall asleep on Asbel’s sofa or something.’
Ethan’s face lights up and he practically drags me out into the corridor, only letting me go so I can re-lock my door. Asbel’s room is about halfway down the corridor and has a similar layout to mine, yet his rooms are shuffled around a bit so that the windows are still in his living room.
As it turns out, Quinn had the first Iron Man DVD in his bag, so that’s what we end up watching. It’s nice, to be lounging with all of my best friends, yet Maltor’s frequent sideways glances are a bit distracting. He feels almost the same way I do, I can feel it. Scared and confused, yet hopeful.
About halfway into the film, I get up to grab a drink and Maltor follows me into the kitchen area. I can feel my friends watching us, but I don’t have time to care. Maltor looks me dead in the eye as I grab some orange juice that Asbel somehow had the money for.
‘The people here are our people,’ he says quietly, so quietly that I can actually see Natasha lean towards the kitchen in hope of hearing what he says next.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ I say, just as quiet. ‘Maltor, nobody can fit into the category of our people, as much as we want them to.’
‘How would you know that?’ he says, still quiet, but anger is slowly creeping into his voice.
‘Maltor, look at everything that has happened to us, even if the people here are mutants too, they’re still nothing like us,’ I say, trying my absolute hardest to keep my voice calm.
Maltor scoffs quietly. ‘You’ll learn soon enough, Albert, that we’re not alone.’
I can hear the pain in his voice, and the hope and the dread that we’ve finally found people that we can fit in with.
‘Yeah, not alone in a fight against a bloody murderer,’ I growl. ‘Even if the people here are stupid mutants like us, I couldn’t care less. All I care about is revenge on that wretched Amy.’
‘All you’ve ever cared about is yourself,’ Maltor snarls, his eyes dangerous.
Not even bothering to keep my voice down, I say in the most steely voice I can, ‘Come again?’
‘You heard me,’ he says calmly, sitting back down, raising his voice to match mine.
Of course, I knew exactly what he was on about: the day I left him, the day I made the worst mistake of my life. However, I see this as no time nor place to argue, so I keep my mouth shut and sit back down on the spare chair Asbel got for me and take a sip of my orange juice, trying to enjoy the film and stop myself from seething.
The film ends at about 00:37 the next morning, and I’m the first one to leave after saying a quick goodbye to everyone. I lock myself in my room and sink into my bed once more. Yet again, everything quickly fades to darkness, but this time my sleep is not so peaceful.
I dream of being in a field of some kind, but I do not know exactly where. Next to me lies the body of a young woman, with a deep gash across her stomach. Looking down at my own body, I find several cuts and wounds. A shadowy figure looms over me and raises a sword-like weapon above my neck, ready to strike. That’s when my whole body seems to crackle with a sort of golden energy and a huge mass of whiteness expands across my vision until I finally wake, sweating.
After about five minutes of convincing myself to get out of bed, I finally rise, and change into the clothes I wore before my shower yesterday. As I open my door to step outside, I find Jay, with his hand poised to knock. For effect, he knocks on my forehead.
‘Was there really any need?’ I ask in the most bored voice I can muster. Inside, however, I’m glad that he didn’t just leave last night.
‘That man-’
‘Steven.’
‘What?’ Jay says, frowning.
‘His name is Steven.’
‘Steven wants us on the top floor, he said to be there in five minutes.’
I don’t even bother changing into my other pair of clothes; I only have two so it wouldn’t have been much of an improvement. I lock my door and dash to the lift, where Natasha and Asbel follow me in. I desperately mash the button for the top floor, ignoring the weird looks I receive from my companions.
The familiar robotic voice says ‘The doors are closing,’ and I am bouncing on my heels in pure excitement. After a trip that felt strangely like 30 seconds and 30 years the doors finally opened onto the top floor of The Tower.
Despite not knowing where to go, it wasn’t that hard to find our way. The lift had bought us up to the end of a corridor, which did not look unlike the floor we were staying on. Paintings and wall plants decorated the walls, which were painted a dark grey. On this floor, there were only two doors, one on each side of the corridor, and I did not know where they led, and I was not sure I wanted to.
At the end of the corridor, Asbel noticed a trapdoor in the ceiling. Upon jumping to pull it down, a ladder fell with it. We each climbed up and then found ourselves on the roof. At the edge of the building, facing South, stood my Grandad, the furious wind blowing his hair back in a picturesque way. The sun had still barely risen, and it was casting a nice faint orange upon the four of us.
The trapdoor behind us closed sharply, and the ladder folded on top. Natasha jumped and clutched Asbel’s arm, and I saw his face turn a little pinker. A bird swoops past me, and I watch for a moment as it flies out North, following a seemingly endless journey.
‘You took your time,’ Grandad says calmly. ‘I was just beginning to get chilly standing up here.’
‘Sorry,’ I said, looking down at my feet. There’s a goddamn hole in my shoe.
‘Don’t apologise, my boy, I was simply making a joke,’ he says in a strange tone, both warm and stiff as if he were forcing himself to make conversation with me.
Being this high up made me long to rip off my shirt and go for a flight. To zip in between houses; to dive from the top of The Tower to the bottom. Asbel could tell I was getting jumpy, so he placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a firm look.
After what had to have been five hours, Ethan, Jay, Maltor, and Quinn all joined us. I could see Maltor getting fidgety as well, and we both locked eyes and established wordlessly that at some point we would have to fly through the City.
Grandad began by thanking us all for going through the effort of getting to the roof before starting on what he had actually called us for.
‘I want to make it clear to you all that if you are uncomfortable with staying here, or if it causes too much of an inconvenience, you are free to leave whenever you please. Your parents are all cordially invited to become citizens of RoCity, but if you wish to head back to Birmingham then that is also fine.’
‘S-So my mom and David can stay here…with me?’ Jay asked, hope leaking into his voice.
‘Of course, they are!’ Grandad said. ‘The invitations are only applied to parents and grandparents, so if your aunts and uncles wish to stay here then that is a different matter.’
I saw Ethan’s face falter slightly and I bitterly thought about how I didn’t have any aunts or uncles to invite in the first place.
‘But why are you doing all of this?’ Maltor asked darkly. ‘Cuz we’re his friends? Power? Some form of politics?’
‘My, they weren’t lying when they said you were streetsmart,’ Grandad said. ‘But you are incorrect. Each and every one of you is special, and I am not sure how to break it to you without having at least one of you faint.’
‘Do it,’ Jay said, grinning.
‘All of you, every last one, is either a child or descendant of a God.’
The wind rustled. Birds chirped. Cars drove. People spoke below. The sea roared.
Just another thing for me to worry about. Not only was I a short-attention-spanned winged human with freaky powers, but I was the descendant of a God. Before this, I believed that there was only one God. I had never been Christened or anything as far as I was aware, but it was reassuring to know that someone was looking over me. Protecting me.
Natasha did look quite faint, just like Grandad had predicted. Asbel, Ethan, and Maltor all stood perfectly still, staring wide-eyed at the floor (roof?). Jay and Quinn, on the other hand, seemed to gleam with hope and joy, as if they had been waiting for years to hear those words.
‘What do you mean, a God?’ Quinn inquired. ‘Isn’t there only one?’
‘That is up for debate,’ came another voice. Turning, I see that it is the short blond man from before. ‘Whilst that God may exist, we know for a fact that our Gods exist.’
‘Who are your Gods?’ Asbel questions.
‘I’m sure you’ve heard of the Greek Gods, correct?’
‘What the-’ Ethan said, jolting his head upwards. ‘The Greek Gods?’
‘With a bit of a twist,’ the young man said. ‘You all know the story of the Gods, right? Zeus, king of the Gods, son of Kronos, who’s the son of Gaia, correct?’
‘Yeah…’ I said. My friends knew how much of a Greek Mythology geek I was. When it was mentioned in History, it was five minutes before Ethan managed to get me to shut up.
‘Hundreds of years ago, Mutants took that and added a twist,’ he said, almost dramatically. ‘You will most likely learn about this in school, but the gist is that everything originates from Nothing, who birthed Chaos. Ignoring the incest, Chaos and his mother, Nothing, then sired the Three Primordials: Titan, Wethra, and Time.’
Grandad cut in. ‘Titan is, in a sense, the God. Ruler of all. Controller of everything. His twin brother, Wethra, is Primordial of the Weather. The youngest of the three, Time, is, surprise surprise, the Primordial of Time.’
‘And then, taking from their parents’ love for incest, Titan and Time married, and that’s where Greek Mythology comes back. Time gave birth to Gaia, the Earth, and Tartarus, Hell.’
‘And then Greek Mythology continues as normal?’ I asked again.
‘Exactly!’ the young man said, beaming.
‘When do we get to know which God we come from?’ Quinn asked, practically bouncing on his feet in joy.
‘When the Gods feel the time is right, they Claim their child. It is not up to us,’ Grandad said. ‘And I think you should introduce yourself, you’ve been quite rude.’
The young man flushed. ‘Right. My name’s Henry Myers, son of Athena.’
That seemed to cement it to me. The way he outright said that he was a son of Athena made me realise that he had to have been telling the truth. Strangely, I felt so much more at ease with this information; as though the bond between me and my friends had grown stronger. We were all demigods. All special. All unique.
‘Bet Ethan’s a son of Athena, too,’ Asbel says. ‘Little nerd.’
‘Oi! Shut up!’ Ethan says. ‘You’re probably a son of…of…I don’t know Greek Gods.’
‘I reckon Natasha’s a daughter of Athena or something, she’s pretty smart,’ Asbel says, looking down at the floor.
‘Nah,’ Natasha murmurs. ‘I’d probably be a daughter of Apollo or some other dumb one.’
I could have sworn the sun shone a bit brighter after that comment but I wasn’t too sure.
From that point onward, we all just stood on the roof talking about which god we all thought we came from, whilst Grandad and Henry listened. In the end, we decided that Ethan and Natasha were children of Athena, Asbel and Jay were sons of Hermes, Maltor was a son of Apollo, and Quinn and I were sons of Ares.
When Ethan and Jay had originally suggested that I was a son of Ares, Grandad and Henry had paused and smirked at each other, yet only Quinn and I seemed to notice. Quinn gave me a sideways glance, to tell me that he knew, too. Knew, that just from the look Henry and Grandad gave each other, that I was not a son of Ares, and they knew who I came from.
I was a bit curious, though. A god couldn’t be my parent. I’d found out just yesterday roughly who my parents were, and if they were dead they certainly weren’t gods. That was, assuming that these gods were immortal, which they most likely were. Perhaps Grandad was the son of a god, and I was simply a descendant of that god. I had too many questions and too few answers. Of course, I wasn’t going to ask all of these questions, as it, to me, would be quite rude.
It was at that moment that it struck me how much I’d changed recently, ever since meeting my new friends. Six months ago, I was hardy, picking fights, sticking up for people I didn’t know, making Rob worry. My throat closed at the thought of Rob sitting in his chair alone. I’d left him wordlessly, without even a proper goodbye, because I wanted to chase a crazed murderer. Sitting with Maxie on his lap, remembering the times I’d run in from school and we’d hold each other tight. I almost gag at my soppiness.
On the contrary, just a few hours ago, I had threatened a woman’s life just to get a reason to leave him. Maybe I was the villain of my own story. My head hurt.
‘Before you go, there is one other thing I need to speak to you about: school,’ Grandad said abruptly.
There is a unanimous groan from the group. Jay even pretends to drop to the floor in agony, flailing his arms about and clutching at the air, as though trying to grasp on to life.
‘No need for that,’ Grandad smirked. ‘You’re all 11-’
’12!’ Asbel and Natasha cut him off, both of them annoyed at this outrageous insult to their age.
’11 and 12,’ Grandad tries again. ‘You have to go to school, it’s required by law. Classes here might be a bit different to what you’re used to. You will have your ordinary lessons, plus a few extra lessons for ‘people like us’. In Year 9, you will pick your GCSE options and will be able to drop certain subjects.’
I could feel the general mood lift the moment he said ‘lessons for ‘people like us’’. I could hear Ethan and Jay whispering to each other, and Jay brought up Amy’s magic, wondering if we could do that.
After we had been told we started school the next day, Henry escorted the rest of my friends back into the building, whilst Grandad asked me to stay on the roof. I didn’t complain. I would take any opportunity to speak to the only family I had left.
‘Albert,’ he spoke differently. His voice sounded sombre, as though he had spent the past few minutes trying not to cry. I understood all too well. ‘I do need to tell you something, and it is again something that we should keep between us, so please do not tell your friends, as much as you want to.’
‘I won’t,’ I spoke firmly, as though I were trying to subconsciously offer him my support. ‘I promise.’
Grandad took a deep breath. ‘You have a lot more responsibility than your friends here. And I suppose I should start with why. The only reason we were able to bring you and your friends here is that I ‘lead’ RoCity.’
‘I figured that you held some sort of power,’ I murmured, looking at my feet again. ‘Nobody else would have bothered with us.’
Grandad turned to face me at this. He gazed down at me painfully, as though he were forcing the next few words out. ‘I don’t think you quite understand. I am, officially, the Prime Minister of RoCity, and it is a hereditary position.’
‘H-hereditary?’ I whispered; even I could barely hear myself. We were the only family that the other had left, I presumed at least. So, if Grandad were to die too, the position would pass down the family and land with the only person left: me.
‘Yes. When I die, you will become Prime Minister. Our family has led this City for about 250 years, and it is no different now. Until you are 14, you will have Aid to help you-’
‘Stop,’ I say, placing my feet firmer on the ground. ‘Stop speaking as if you’re gonna die tomorrow. You’ll live to see my 20th birthday, at least.’
‘Albert-’ he stopped. He sniffed. ‘I am 59 years old, I don’t have long left.’
’59?! You have ages left to-’
‘Albert! I will die soon! Nobody can change that! And when I die, I regret to inform you that you will have to bear my responsibilities! I don’t want you to, of course, I don’t, but this is how you were born! You were born as one of, if not the, most special person on the planet!’
I didn’t want him to die, end of conversation. Not only for emotional reasons but now for selfish reasons, too. If he died, then the huge City I was in would be mine to control. It just seemed like another thing to worry about. I felt sick to my stomach when I thought about the sheer amount of people living in RoCity, and I would have to account for them all one day. And Amy complicated things. It was clear she wouldn’t hesitate to kill my Grandad, and it was clear she was a dangerous and powerful woman.
‘I know that this is an awful lot to take in, I mean, 24 hours ago you were at a normal school, and now you’re being told you’re in line for my position. And, for that, I apologise.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ I mutter. ‘Once we kill her it’ll all be over.’
He placed his hand on my head. ‘You’re right, son. We’ll kill her, don’t you worry.’
A single tear fell down Grandad’s cheek.