When I was born, I was discarded as worthless for I had no sense of Energy currents. When I became the sword of the realm, I was disowned. Now that I was one vote away from passing an edict of equality between Energy users and not, I had my life’s work burned in my hands.

“Who are you to change this world, silly boy?” the true ruler of the empire, the head councilman, asked me.

There could only be one answer.

Your son.

Elecar Winteridge, 7 B.S. (Before the Scourge)

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Ragnarök, judgement day or the day of reckoning. Every religion and cult has foretellings of the final day. For most people it is just an old tale, something to frighten misbehaving children or a tool for scaring the masses.

But for Shea and her world this became a despairing reality. Forests turned into deserts and seas became salt lakes. Continents were smashed together, becoming one or disappearing without a trace. The whole world was covered in the ashes of fires.

When Shea awoke in her shelter, not only was she injured but everyone and everything she knew was gone. All she had left were her memories and the innate talent to use the shaping ability to aid in her survival.

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Author of Flight of Icarus

Member of Scribble