My father strides into the island manse the day I am born. The same day, the heavens burst in the skies above us. The whole planet is abuzz with the news—the Fracture Point has exploded in space and opened a new pathway for our planet. But the islanders don’t realize that. They see only fire in the sky. They still hold on to their ancient beliefs.
“It’s an omen,” they say.
My father pulls me from my mother’s arms in spite of her cries. Protestations of an island woman mean little to the great Edric Leontes. He bolts from the birthing chamber to the balcony. He holds me aloft to the brightness of the star of Tao, making certain all the strategically placed camglobes hovering around us capture the moment in pristine high-definition aquagraphic. Then he proclaims to the sea, the sky, and all the ancestors old and newly ascended, “This is Edmon, the son of Leontes. Let all behold and claim, ‘The son is greater than the father!’ He is a leviathan!”
My father knows how to exploit an event for personal gain. He makes this ordinary moment, the birth of an unremarkable child, history. On this day, on the Isle of Bone, on the Dayside of the distant planet Tao, my birthday is written in the ledger of our people’s history. It is the nineteenth day of Wu Chen, 8227 by Tao Reckoning, 1234 Post Fractural Collapse. Augurs deem the date auspicious to please him, and the exploding Fracture Point only confirms their announcement. My father Edric, Patriarch of House Leontes, Nightsider, and a giant of a man seemingly carved from granite—is a king in all but name. His shoulder-length flaxen hair whips in the wind as he makes his proclamation over his firstborn son.
It is the last time he makes predictions regarding my destiny.
You see, I am not a leviathan.