Place: Krystan

Memories were the soul tormentor of Hunter Rudolf Dragon. Even when he tried, he could never take away their power over him, they were his worst kind of enemy.

Sitting on the throne in the vast throne room, legs straight, hands resting on the manchette, back against the splat, he endured the pain as his father and two brothers’ faces swirled through his mind. It was three hundred years since his youngest brother Teague died but it felt like yesterday. For a semi-immortal, the loss of his family would torment him for all eternity, that’s if Marek wouldn’t hit him with a poisoned arrow, or maybe the coward would be male enough and kill him the old-fashioned way, chop off his head.

His thoughts trundled him to the beginning of his anguish, five hundred years ago, when his father died from Death weed poisoning. A weed that had been prohibited and eliminated twenty-five centuries ago, apparently it hadn’t and had found its way to Marek’s hands.

Hunter cursed nature for letting that plant be the Krystanians’ weakness. He didn’t agree with the old ways of using the Death Weed poison to execute criminals but it was better than using it to kill Krystan’s heirs. Everyone deserves to live their semi-immortal life to the fullest, even criminals. Only Krystan’s crystal could decide when one’s semi-immortality was long-lived by rejecting their body.

The crystal was the source of his people’s power. It was their semi-immortality life source. Their blood and body siphoned its power to acquire supernatural abilities. Without it, for a couple of years, one’s metabolism would become like that of a mere human.

He sank deeper and deeper letting his worst failure eat him up. He hadn’t been able to protect his younger brothers after his father’s death, and now, the only family he was left with was his mother.

He considered all his subjects as family. Their loyalty, respect, and love for him had earned them that accord but they could never fill the void.

A burst of energy shot off his heart and flowed through his veins. With a determination that would take death over failure, he vowed to protect his mother at all costs. He vowed he would fight to his last breath to ensure Krystan never fell into the wrong hands.

Hunter channelled the bad memories and his father’s teaching to help him keep going.

Have the spirit of a child, yet the nobility of a true warrior, always protective and kind. Stay on the road that is empathy and compassion. Be determined, brave, and love with all your heart.

But one fear refused to depart from him, the fear that the Dragon family line would die with him, and the attempt on his life two days ago wasn’t helping. The mystery of the Krystanian females’ infertility was making him sleepless. Specialists said the planet’s climate had changed and affected females’ fertility. Their effort to solve this problem wasn’t bearing any fruit.

“Stay alive,” he muttered under his breath. Until his plan fell into place, this was his slogan. He didn’t have to wait for long now, he was almost drowning this fear. That’s the reason he was sitting under this canopy, surrounded by elaborate pomp, on the chair carved of fine oak, and crested with an image of a dragon. He was waiting for news from Cade.

From the raised marble surface with steps, Hunter watched the pair of four-meter-high oak doors on the furthest end of the throne room fling open. The doors revealed the figures of two of the three Krystanians he trusted most.

He watched them hit the marble floor as their feet ate up the long distance between them and the throne. Large pillars supporting small balconies with numerous windows stood on each of their sides, these pillars ended a few meters from the throne. Above them, the roof stood high with large gold and crystal chandeliers hanging from it. To their background were golden-coloured walls.

As they neared the steps rising to the throne, their pace slowed. Marco and Cade, if anyone gave him a push in life, it was these two.

Looking at his best friend, Cade, happy memories unfolded as divine deja vu. Memories of the time when he was just the Second of Krystan, an heir to the Krystanian throne on which a semi-immortal king with so many years to rule sat.

He and Cade had had a routine of going hunting for days and when they were at the palace, they spent most of their time sparring in the training room. Each of them was eager to prove himself stronger than the other. Hunter won almost every time yet he wondered if Cade was just letting him win only to boost his royal ego. During their free time, they went to the booze and drink to their fullest.

But since he became king, things were different between them. Everything was formal, Cade never called Hunter by his name anymore and Hunter was responsible for thousands of people to spend his time on leisure activities.

Besides being Krystan’s commander, Cade was its Second. It hadn’t been easy convincing him to take that position, Cade still believed Hunter needed to have his own blood for this position. Yet he was the only person Hunter saw fit to rule Krystan in case the plan didn’t work. But he wouldn’t dare tell him that, Cade would never accept the throne.

Marco was Krystan’s counsellor since the king died. Hunter wasn’t as close with Marco as he was with Cade but he valued him so much. Hunter felt his rule wouldn’t stand without Marco’s advice.

“My lord....” Marco accompanied the acknowledgement with a bow. “The council is making a scene in the courtyard, they want to come and see you.”

Hunter knew what the council wanted to say to him and it made him angry. With the recent attempt on his life, he was certain they wanted to pester him to name the council leader the next ruler of Krystan.

There was a tenseness in his muscles that wanted him to melt in his anger. The council was getting on his nerves. It wasn’t enough that that was always the subject of the monthly council meetings, and now they were gathering outside, shouting it out to instil fear in Krystanians.

Fixing a hard gaze on Marco, he said, “Let them know I will have a meeting with them tomorrow. I’m not in the mood right now.”

The time Marco took to walk out of the throne room doors was torture to Hunter. His stomach knotted up as his head buzzed with possibilities. If this plan didn’t work then he would blame Cade and Dallan for getting his hopes up.

Dallan had been his father’s best friend, so it’s no surprise he was determined to give Krystan a Dragon family line heir. He has been the one who had filled Cade and him with these absurd ideas.

Hunter tried to remain calm but his pulse pounded louder in his temple. He didn’t want to appear over-excited about a plan he had been against from the start. It had been instilled in them, from a young age, that humans were enemies, and bringing a human to Krystan would mean chaos for his people. Besides, he didn’t believe in the myth that there were some Krystanians blessed with other special abilities than the ones everyone knew.

From the pearl-sized crystal they wore, they got semi-immortality, night vision, super strength, and materialization. More crystal meant abilities like seeing the future, mind-reading, hypnosis, and time-travelling. But it had been agreed that these were unethical. Besides, an excessive amount of the crystal resulted in brain enhancement which finally led to madness.

The King was required to use these abilities in some royal duties, such as when he was preceding a case. But Hunter always took the large crystal off immediately after and put on his regular one. Having it on for a few minutes was already sapping his semi-immortality, he wanted more years than what the other kings had averagely lived, two thousand years. Krystan still needed him.

He’d never come across one in his one thousand eight hundred years. Nor had he ever heard someone mention meeting one of the Marked.

“Did you find her?” he asked.

When his expression turned rigid, Hunter got his answer. “I’m sorry my Lord. It was a dead end. There was no female named Gwenith in the mountains.”

He should have stuck with his belief that there was no one capable of opening a portal to the human world. He should have known he wasn’t going to get himself a human female to give him a blood heir.

“Sooner or later Dallan and I will find another lead.”

Hunter rested his stiff back on the chair, “Enough. I’m tired of getting my hopes up.”

“You are giving up but we won’t. We will keep...” His words trailed as his gaze shifted to the door a few steps to the left of the throne

Hunter followed Cade’s gaze and saw Queen Thracia walk through the door. He was bewildered, all this time he had been sitting in the throne room and hadn’t realized his mother was in the crypt. How long had she been there?

Thracia smiled as she walked elegantly towards Cade, her long greenish-blue gown made of soft satiny fabric sweeping the marble floor. The smile was meant to hide her grief but Hunter could still see it behind the disguise. The time she was spending in the crypt was toxic, it wasn’t letting her heal. But he couldn’t point out the speck in her eye when he was a carrier of a log.

“Cade dear. I’ve missed you.” Thracia stood in front of Cade and brought him into a hug. “You should come to dinner with us tonight. I miss spending time with you.”

“I will,” he said, pulling away. “I’ve missed the food at the keep.”

Hunter stood from the throne and walked down the steps as he studied her. She looked as young as the first time he opened his eyes and saw her beautiful face. Years had done nothing to her age. The misery and sadness for the loss of her two sons and husband were the reasons for the ageing lines on her face.

He’d taken so little after his mother. She had a rose beige skin tone while his was milk chocolate, just like his father’s. His brothers had had a combination of that feminine beauty to their handsome looks, but his was regal, just like his father. He’d taken so many physical aspects after him but he knew he could never be half the king he was. He was a failure and in Hades, his father was certainly disappointed in him.

Seeing his mother like that, had him wishing he could be able to give her a grandchild. Maybe then, she would forget her sorrow, just a little bit. Maybe then, she would wear back her beautiful smile, the one that lit up her entire face.

Standing on the level ground with her, Thracia opened her arms, and Hunter sank into her embrace, his large body barely fitting in her tiny arms.

In his mother’s embrace, everything fell away, and he once again felt like a little boy, with zero worries.