☠ Crown of Shadows ☠ (#Wattys2018)

Chapter 1: The Council of Elders

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The air was heavy and musty with age as Nox followed the ancient stairs deep down into the earth. The stones beneath his feet were weathered with footsteps of all those that had come before him. He could feel every dent and scratch underneath his feet as he continued his descent. The torch he held in his hand only barely illuminated his way further into the old castle, but his wolf's eyes didn't need much light as he guided his pack towards the forgotten Hall of Kings.

     He heard their steady breathing behind him, the Matriarch of the Lycan House safely in their midst. It had been over a decade since all the Houses of Shadows had come together and despite the neutral ground they were on, Nox trusted the other Houses as much as he trusted the God of Night to protect them.

     Not one bit.

     As he descended the final steps, the blood red seats of the Council of Elders came into view. Each of them were placed on a platform raised several feet above his head, all six chairs opposite of one another, following the circular shape of the room. They were close enough together to hear each other without effort, but far enough apart to prevent bloodshed. Something that had occurred countless times throughout the ages between the Houses.

     Something that still tainted their shared history.

     The chandelier of candles on the marbled ceiling above him burned with an age-old magic that had long since left the other parts of Mithra. It spread a bright glow of light around the room, revealing the other Matriarchs and their Heirs already in their seats. Their sentries were all standing below the platforms, their teeth bared and weapons drawn. Nox growled at them in return.

     As Heir, he followed his Matriarch up the steps towards the seat that belonged to his House––the House of Ruelle. From the corner of his eyes, he could see all the other Matriarchs watching his grandfather with calculated looks, eying the ink black crown atop his head. A Crown that held the power to shape entire kingdoms, if not the whole world.

     It was called the Crown of Shadows and was forged in a time of peace between the Houses. A time when magic was still flowing through the cracks in the earth––when the humans had still been part of the Council and knew about the creatures now hiding in the shadows. Six powerful heirlooms of each of the Houses had been welded together to solidify the fragile truce. Ever since, though, there had been war after war and battle after battle for the power it held.

     For over two hundred years, the Crown had been in the strong hands of the House of Ruelle. Which meant, that out of all the people in the room, Nox' grandfather was the most powerful one of all. The responsibility to protect his Matriarch weighed heavily on his shoulders. Especially on a night like this.

     "Why have you called us here, Cain?" Morgana, the vampire Matriarch spoke, her voice infused with severity and wisdom. Though she looked not much past thirty winters, Nox knew she was much, much older than that.

     His grandfather slowly took a seat, letting his eyes pass all of the Houses before him. Despite the wars that had been waged amongst them for centuries, his grandfather had been able to create a stable agreement between them. Each House had their own lands within Mithra in which they had absolute power––in which they could be the kings and queens that they all craved to be. The only thing he asked in return was to stop the bloody wars that had divided them for centuries and to protect all creatures in their lands from the nightmares lurking in the darkness.

     Until now, no more battles had been fought and even the old Order of Protectors––the Keepers of the Crown––had been reinstated. Together with the other Heirs and their most trusted sentries, Nox was part of that order. They made sure all Houses honored their promises––punished them if necessary––and protected all people of Mithra from the creatures trying to tear the world apart.