The House Kazansky has been ruling the Kingdom of Miramar for centuries and was one of the most powerful families. The Kazanskys called themselves The Azure Children. As the tale’s been told from generation to generation, the bloodline was blessed by the fearsome ruler of the sky, the Thunderbird, who had bestowed them the power to wield weather as they willed.
However, with time, the pureblood has been washed away little by little. Mixed. Spoiled. Fewer and fewer children were born with the celestial gift. The House has grown restless for they couldn’t dare to think of what would happen to their sovereignty without the wrath of the Sky King in their hands. Challenges would come, from their conquered subordinates as well as their enemies.
Until one winter, after years of waiting and suffering, during a heavy snowstorm. A newborn cried and the sky screamed.
Thomas Kazansky II was told he was the Hope of the clan since the day he understood words. Not every gifted-one was meant to be a powerful weather wielder but Thomas was the real Azure Children. As the winter welcomed him to the world, his power naturally attuned to the cold. Moreover, being the favourite child of the sky, the lighting, the weapon of their Winged God, also called him its master. Everyone in the castle learnt at that moment that none should upset their prince.
It was a precarious time and the King would do anything to ensure the safety of their saviour. Thomas thus spent his childhood caged inside the castle wall, inside the lecture room, inside his bedroom, between a group of nannies, and between a group of armed Royal Guards.
Thomas wasn’t born cold. But the gentle boy has gone with the early passing of his mother and the absence of paternal love. He was the Crown Prince and the Hope of the House. No one would bring harm to him including companionship. By the tender age of 12, Thomas found himself to be completely alone.
Peter ‘Pete’ Mitchell had so many things to prove to the world. Born to a small family on the outskirts of the Capital, having the captain of the Royal Guard as a father, Pete dreamt of an adventure and glory of his own.
He grew up with tales of conquests, chivalrous knights, magic and monsters alongside the gentle tunes of his mother’s lullaby. This was Pete’s perfect little world until it was shattered by the murder of his father, rumours of his father’s treason, and shortly the death of his heartbroken mother. The newly orphan was taken under the wing of Michael Metcalfe, his father’s successor and closest friend, the only person who still trusted in Duke Mitchell’s loyalty to the crown.
“What do you want to be in the future, kid?” Metcalfe once asked on a calm summer afternoon. “I want to be a Royal Guard.” little Pete said, determined, only 9 years old. The old man nodded, understanding the implications behind that answer. “Then you shall be. I’ll make sure of that.”
Pete Mitchell had so many things to prove to the world.
His world was a little bit brighter when he met Nicolas Bradshaw on the first day of his training, then Papa and Mama Bradshaw who reminded him of a family he once had and lost. Pete regained little by little a piece of a normal life.
But sometimes in the moment of weakness, Pete returned to the place where his old home once stood and walked around the forest nearby where his father loved to bring him, tracing the fleeting memory that he has been fighting very hard not to forget. And one day under the shade of the pine forest, Pete, recently 18, found a stranger on the spot where he used to sleep on the arm of his late father, with the coldest eyes he ever laid eyes upon.
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