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Chapter One

The day was warm, the earth soaking up every sun ray that hit it. The only problem? The freakish wind blowing through that nobody could feel and yet it kept stealing chairs.

I sighed, watching an orange beach lounge try to slip away from the pool. The papers in my hand kept fluttering and I knew it was going to be impossible to read them, let alone sign them. The pool water was lapping at my feet, soaking my pants and the concrete, but I stood there, tapping the pen against the clipboard.

What was it with today? The trees shushed the world with their quivering leaves and waved their arms for attention. The chair finally tripped itself on the grass. I myself felt no wind at all and my clothes only rustled when I moved. No invisible hand was doing that.

Placing the pen and pad on the table only for it to be snatched by the wind and scattered across the lawn, I lifted the mug of coffee to my lips and took a sip. I winced at the bitter texture. See? If the wind had not been blowing, it would still have been warm and sweet.

Turning my nose up at it, I jerked the cup into a bush and the brown liquid fell gracefully to the ground. Whatever. It was not like I needed the coffee or anything.

I rubbed my eyes and slumped against the house wall. I had work to do, but it looked like it would be another boring day inside because the outside world was not complying. When I looked at my reflection in the pool, the bags under my eyes made me look disheveled, and the crown was a hilarious touch. Like an attempt at elegance while I was a beggar. I guess, in a way, I kind of am one though.

The papers dared me to a game of tag and it took me ten minutes to catch them all. The pen was long gone and I would probably step on it later, but the sooner I was out of this insane weather, the better.

Reclining against the chaise inside, I skimmed over the words and put my new name, Violaceous, on each with a flourish. Finally the dumb house was getting sold. I have no idea why I needed fifty houses back then when I used to rule a small village, but I now had a lot of money thanks to them.

When the last paper bore my signature, I shuffled them all into an envelope and placed it outside my front door. Here the wind was more quiet because of the wall next to me, so I was not worried about it flying away.

With that, I collapsed onto my bed, ignoring my wet pants. The bed ruffled a welcome and I curled myself around a blanket.

Something nearby dinged and I let out a small groan. I tried to ignore it, and focus on letting sleep take me over, but the sound kept hitting my head. With a loud growl of complaint, I snatched my phone from the cabinet next to the bed and flicked it open. A dozen next messages greeted me. Warily, I clicked on one.

Have the papers been signed?

Huffing, I texted them back that, yes, they are out for delivery.

They replied instantly. Good.

I scrolled through the other text messages, frowning at all the random numbers that popped up. I clicked on a couple, and they all read Error. Please put in the pin code if you would like to continue.

Great. Now somebody was trying to use my phone number to their advantage. I started blocking them all, but they kept coming from different numbers. And every one I blocked, two more would pop up.

"Sheesh, this guy needs to calm down," I muttered, swiping down and pressing the buzzer so that my phone would not ding every time I received one of those messages. Then I snapped the phone in half, and placed it back on the counter.

Ding!

I stared at the new cutting edge flip-phone. I thought I had muted it? Reaching out, I flipped it open and checked if I had in fact clicked it. It looked as pale as the other buttons around it. With a slight crease in my forehead, I clicked it. This time I made sure it was shaded a darker color than the rest before I shut it off again.