The Art of Unopulence

00 | prologue

High tide had set in. The mighty waves of the turbulent Pacific slapped the rocks noisily at the bottom of the cliff on which the heavily guarded castle of Volatis sat opulently.

Moonlight glistened on the wet rocks like silver glitter as the strong winds sang songs of power, glory and peacetime for the dancing shadows inside the castle.

For an island country barely the size of New York, Volatis was unusually powerful. So powerful, that the all the heads of countries of the world and the United Nations had unanimously decided that it was imperative for Volatis to be kept secret from the rest of the world.

With ninety three percent of the world's uranium deposit concentration, the small country had the means to build or destroy the world as it fancied and all nations gave utmost importance to its foreign policies with Volatis. Naturally, several decades of uranium exports had made its people exceptionally wealthy and the provision for instant citizenship in all the countries of the world if they ever wished for it was one of the several perks that they enjoyed.

Rumour had it, that all the mild radioactivity in the soil, water and air had caused minute mutations in their DNA, giving them access to up to almost one percent of extra brain capacity than an average human being.

Volatis was supposed to be invincible in every way imaginable. Their monarch, the most intelligent of them all. No other country expected to hold any kind of political sway over them. The idea was too farfetched to be conceived successfully.

But that was all about to change. Today.

As the worriless royals of Volatis were retiring to their chambers for the night a small boat miraculously slipped past their coast guard and made it to the sandy white beach under the steep cliff on which the royal castle was built.

Seven men crawled out wordlessly, armed with the most advanced lightweight short-range rifles in the world. They made their way up the cliff stealthily, determined to complete the mission they had pledged to complete or die trying.

The wind had picked up speed now. It's soft music had faint undertones of warning. But alas, the warning went unheeded.

Behind the castle, the rustling of the trimmed bushes caught the attention of a lone guard on his patrol. He frowned, gripping the Taser gun strung on his right shoulder tightly as he narrowed his eyes and stared intently in the direction of the sound.

Before he could move closer to inspect, a tiny silver object whizzed past his ear and embedded itself inside the jugular on his neck- a concentrated solution of neurotoxins spurting straight into his bloodstream and paralysing him instantly.

Somewhere in the East wing of the castle, Prince Nathaniel tossed and turned restlessly amidst his sea of satin sheets. His father had mentioned something about a series political threats from the an untraceable entity after dinner, when they were poring over a few proposals from the Chinese government over a glass of fine scotch.

When Nathaniel had pressed the King to tell him more, his father waved him off subtly saying that their cybersecurity department was working on tracing them before dismissing him to bed.

Volatis had never been threatened before. Not once in it's fairly short yet eventful history. Before the nuclear revolution, it had been insignificant- a small island with a farming community that liked to experiment with coal driven machines for ploughing the difficult terrain and cutting the harvest. It had come a long way since then.

Nathaniel considered sneaking into his father's study to have a look at the latest files. Maybe he'd find something that would ease his restlessness?

He sat up in bed slowly, glancing at the fastened door for a moment before slipping out from under his sheets. He slid his feet into his pair of silk slippers and corrected his hair before stepping out of his chambers. On his way out, he peeked into his little sister, Jasmine's, bed chambers to find her sleeping soundly.

With a faint smile playing on his lips, Nathaniel made his way to his father's study. He was absolutely unaware of the patrol soldiers falling unconscious all around the castle one after the other, completely paralyzed and unable to warn their masters of their impending doom.

If he had paid a little more attention, Nathaniel would have noticed the decisive shift in the air currents. He would have heard the faint, barely audible sound of the ground thumping under the weight of a Volatis guard's knees buckling every other minute. Or the warning screams of the bats in the distant caves.

But Nathaniel was blissfully unaware, as were the rest of the royals.

Except the king. Ibrahim Mirsalehi sat up in bed with a start a few doors down in the pristine hallway. He picked up the tablet sitting on the side table and scrolled through the live footage of the CCTV cameras installed all around the castle premises. He briefly noticed Nathaniel sitting in an armchair in his study, going over the Chinese proposal again but decided to let it slide.

Contrary to the unsettling feeling in his gut everything appeared to be all right. Almost mundane.

He was about to wave away his paranoia when suddenly all hell ran loose and the doors of his private chambers opened and he barely registered three masked men in the Volatis High Guard uniforms charging in, before a deadly bullet fragmented his skull bones and embedded itself firmly inside his head.

Another followed soon after, but he was already dead.

Four doors down, Nathaniel shot up at the sound of the gunshots, eyes wandering around his father's study in utter panic as he stumbled to switch off the lights before the perpetrators noticed him to be inside unprotected. His hands dipped into one of the desk's drawers to bring out a titanium enforced dagger and revolver that his father kept for self protection.

As if on cue, the emergency transmission system installed inside his ear came to life.

"Get out of your father's study through the secret passageway behind the portrait of Athena right now." His uncle, Marcus's voice thundered from the other end, "Go downstairs, get Jasmine and run to the helipad through the secret passage in her play room!"

Nathaniel swallowed, a painful ball forming inside his throat as he stumbled towards the portrait of Athena above the sandalwood mantelpiece that sat behind his father's office chair.

"What about Father?" he stuttered breathlessly.

The line went silent for a moment before his uncle spoke again.

"They got to him Nathaniel." Marcus Mirsalehi said quietly, "He's dead."

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What do you think about the start?

Also the book will be written in first person from the next chapter. I only wanted the prologue to be written in third person.

If you were to be granted one superpower, what would you choose?
I'd choose the ability to read minds.