PRESENT TIME

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CRIMSON ISLE IS A GINORMOUS stretch of land over the wild currents of the sea; sweltered in mountain peaks, fauna-infused grasslands, endless rivers and rocky hills.

Atop one such hill with acres of plain surface at the centre of the isle, rests the magnanimous Castellejo castle in its bronze and maroon glory. The crimson silk flag with the royal sigil of a half-moon and a sword crossed at the centre in a sparse imitation of an 'X' welcomes me even from heights apart as I winnow myself at the foot of the castle's entrance.

My late grandmother—the crone witch—spelled the entire isle with a protection spell that conceals its presence from the neighbouring kingdoms and any uninvited onlooker.

It wasn't like the neighbouring kingdoms were a threat, they were all in a peace treaty and I trust the kings and queens enough to know they would never do anything to jeopardize my safety. They were in some words, my closest friends. And I was, at the end of the day, their ultimate queen.

Yet I couldn't reveal my accommodations for the sake of others. People have paid when I'd been let out in the open. My parents, my mate, my sons, among many others.

I'm always meant to remain hidden, like a dynamite set in an enemy's base intended to stay unseen until it is to explode.

But like they say,

Three things can't ever be hidden. The sun, the moon and the truth.

One day all of my hiding game to conceal my existence from the outer world is going to blow up in my face.

Until that day arrives, I shall rather focus on the task at hand.

I don't bother to get changed from the plain silk red gown I'd pulled on earlier and storm past the empty hall towards the meeting room at the right-wing, crimson and bronze interior displaying everywhere I pass through.

Joshua joins me midway in the hallways, huffing and puffing and absolutely complaining.

"Do I always have to remind you of everything? What am I? An alarm clock? A notepad reminder?!" He bellows, brushing back his sweat-streaked dirty blonde hair out of his sculpted face.

He's regrettably my most trusted confidant, protector the elders shoved at me to stay by my side and he claims himself to be my secret best friend.

Brown eyes glare at me when I don't make a retort, "The elders are here. They've found something, it seems important. I had to lie to them you had an urgent matter to look after and had to send you a signal in secrecy since you refuse to let anyone know you're grieving and just pretend it's petty revenge."

"I'm not grieving." I snap, a bit too defensively as we make it to the meeting room.

Joshua rolls his eyes, "Alright, you're just sulking."

Ignoring him, I push open the gilded burnished gold doors to the marbled confines of the meeting room.

Three figures rise in greeting from around the cherry-wood table.

The elders—there are five of them, two absent today—like their name suggested, are centuries older than me and that is saying something since I'm almost a millennia years old myself. They're the last few of the crimson court members who'd lived from my grandparents' reign. They've kept their true elder identities and ages hidden for eons now. I might hold stronger powers over them but wisdom? They did. And that is why I'm to seek their guidance for whatever I wish to do.

All three of them in attendance are a mystifying presence, each dressed in elaborate white robes that touch the ceramic floors, gold cuffs and buttons perfectly strung together in place just like each of their features.

They strike an eerie resemblance to the sun priestesses' paintings hanging on the hallway walls of Crimson Castle and it's more ominous than anything. But they'd dressed as such for the court meeting since my grandparents' reign and I suppose they'd change for me now, ultimate queen or not.

"Greetings, your majesty." They welcome in unison.

I give an acknowledging nod and take my seat at the head of the table. Joshua slumps onto the seat next to Elder Dulcamara.

Elder Dulcamara is an ancient witch with seer powers. She's the only Elder I keep in touch with. No matter how eerie her aura seems, she's the least hostile than the others and may I add, tremendously resourceful.

"I heard you've found something." I waste no time in chit-chat, jumping to the issue at hand.

'More like someone.' One of the elders at the further right side, Elder Joseph—a demon and the head of the medical department—mutters in his head disgruntledly as if he'd rather speak about the weather.

"And what might be so disturbing about it, Elder Joseph? Who did you find?" I arch a brow his way.

Elder Joseph straightens in his seat, suddenly seeming to remember I can read his thoughts, as well as the others. He goes utterly still and Dulcamara rolls her hazel eyes exasperatedly at the elder.

I never have to bother with Dulcamara's thoughts because she voices them just fine, no consideration of consequences taken. It spares me the power defuse.

"A shadow hunter." A soft voice pipes in.

My eyes skirt to Elder Aeslyn in raw shock—even if I hide the expression off my face—to see her jet-black eyes, a stark contrast to her auburn hair, fixated on me seeking permission.

I nod.

Aeslyn clasps both her hands in front of her face in a clap.

Not a minute later, two soldiers dressed in crimson uniforms with the royal sigil embedded in gold thread on their left breast-pockets, drag inside a man between them.

The shadow hunter's head hangs low, a mop of burnished brown hair curtaining his eyes. The features of his face are all sharp angles and deadly precision.

'He's beautiful,' is the first thought that echoes in my mind, not my own but Joshua's.

Although I do have to agree.

"Where did you find him?" I ask, taking a step towards the hunter.

He looks up at me then, onyx eyes like that of a storm widen in surprise before some form of puzzle occurs to spin in his mind.

I stretch around my powers to fish for his thoughts but come up empty.

That makes me furrow my brows in confusion. Why can't I listen to his thoughts?

"The East. Lycor. I suppose you do not know this, my queen, but the Lycan kingdom is floundered with shadow creatures hiding inside human skins." Aeslyn informs.

She's a vampire, the head of the crimson court tracking department, really good at her job, so I don't take lightly to her words.

I wait, knowing there's more she has to say.

"We've looked for shadow hunters the past six months only to come up empty. So this time, I pulled in the records for human elites and nobles who've faced a fatal dying situation but somehow miraculously made out alive and healthy. It didn't take too much effort to figure out that few of these men and women were possessed by lower shadow creatures who live in the body of human vassals, for they have no skin of their own. And where the shadow creatures live, the shadow hunters are bound to follow. Which brings us to the current situation on how we found this one with the help of my trackers," Aeslyn points a slender finger at the hunter.

"I have no ill intentions towards any of you. I was just asked to do my job." The said hunter speaks for the first time, his voice uncharacteristically melodic.

He doesn't seem to be terrified in any way under so many watchful eyes, as if he knew he'd be here doing this. It makes me uneasy and doubtful.

Joshua crosses his arms beside me, "Every enemy says the exact same thing."

True that.

But it isn't like we have many options. Or time, to be precise.

"We need your help. To capture someone." I finally voice out.

Thanatos can't be killed. No shadow creature can be. The only way to stop them is to capture them. And it can only be done by a shadow hunter.

If he's really a shadow hunter, then years of waiting and I could finally taste hope on my tongue, sweet in the wake of burning acid that had been etched on the buds for the last four years.

The hunter stares at me with that expression of all-knowing again and it irritates me that I can't hear his thoughts. But then, I haven't met a shadow hunter ever before to know how many of my powers even work on them.

Shadow creatures have otherworldly, unseen powers. If there are people who can hunt them, I suppose they must have resistance or powers of their own to be able to defend themselves.

"Who?" The hunter doesn't question why, I note that.

My gaze observes him keenly for an expression as I utter the name that leaves venom in my mouth, "Thanatos."

For a long moment, he stares, eyes reading me just the way I'm accessing him. Comprehension like a bucket of water splashes his features so clearly it leaves me stupefied. The understanding then metamorphs into bafflement, exuding an incredulous laugh out of him.

"You have no idea, do you?" He whispers, eyes alit with realization.

I frown, "What?"

That baffled chortle again only to turn into raw seriousness, "Every shadow hunter is a part shadow creature themself."

My eyes widen in alarm but it doesn't rival the icy devastation engulfing my soul at the words that follow,

"And we all work for Thanatos."

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Ah....so that kinda sucks for Mellisa, doesn't it? The only people who can kill her enemy work for him😬

Your views on the three elders and the supposed hunter here?👀