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“Show me what to do.”
Chapter Two
“For one thousand years Queen Gaia ruled with an iron fist. Known far and wide as the Blood Moon Queen, she consolidated the Dark Ones’ power over all the eye could see. Other Immortals scattered to the ends of the earth, hiding from capture and enslavement. But the Beasts tried to hold their ground. Which was why, every sun cycle, Queen Gaia led a hundred Dark warriors on a grand, ritualistic hunt—to cull the animal spirit population and kill the rebels dead…”
—From the hidden volumes of the Ecliptic Scrolls
Second Cycle of the Dark Queen Gaia, seventh millennium BC.
“Master Hunter Zaidu,” the Dark Queen greeted, sitting straight-backed upon her onyx throne.
The Dark fortress was a monolith of solid stone and rock, carved directly into the side of a mountain. The metal instruments the stone cutters used might be primitive, but they were no ordinary laborers. Those who built the fortress had Immortal strength, whether Dark masters or Pure slaves.
Humans, the weakest of all beings, huddled in small villages on the outskirts of the citadel. Dark Ones had little use for them save as the occasional morsel to snack on when Pure blood was scarce.
After all, when a Dark One thirsted, they weren’t too picky about the source of blood.
Zai bowed formally and touched his right fist to his left breastplate.
He was outfitted in full battle gear—black, form-fitting leather armor over a lightweight tunic cinched with a weapons belt. Sword and dagger were attached to either side, bow and arrows slung over his shoulder.
His wavy dark hair was pulled back in a utilitarian knot; thick, prickly stubble already covering his jaw despite his recent shave. His long, trunk-like legs were encased in knee-high, well-worn boots, thighs left bare in deference to the heat.
It was hunting season, after all, and a Dark One’s body temperature was hotter than almost all other living beings with the exception of Beasts.
“I assume every preparation has been made for the annual jaunt,” the Queen stated rather than asked.
Jaunt.
As if leading a hundred Dark warriors into the forests and mountains to kill as many animal spirits as they could, especially the females and their cubs, could be described as a pleasurable excursion.
Zai ground his back molars but otherwise kept his expression an unreadable mask, a skill he had perfected over centuries of serving the Dark Queen in this capacity.
He had always excelled at martial arts and hunting in particular, since he’d been old enough to wield a bow and arrow. He would have preferred to be a foot soldier in the Queen’s army rather than the Master Hunter, but the choice had never been his.
What Queen Gaia commanded, so it would be.
At least in the army, he would defeat enemies in battle. Although it was always the Dark forces invading other territories, often in surprise attacks, not to defend honor or to protect, looting villages, killing, raping and pillaging, it was somehow less personal than hunting and killing animal spirits one by one.
The former was war; the latter was sport.
And though Zai was a full-blooded Dark One, with primitive bloodlust coursing through his veins, reveling in the thrill of the hunt like any other, he had never taken pleasure in killing people, whether humans or Immortals.
A slow blink was his only acknowledgement and confirmation of Queen Gaia’s statement. Otherwise, he did not speak.
He spoke so little, ever since he’d been a youngling, that others often thought him mute. His parents had been killed shortly after he was born, in one of Queen Gaia’s wars. There was never a lull in her campaigns to dominate every civilization across the plains.
Zai had no other family and was raised in the barracks with other orphans of Dark soldiers. He had always been solitary and kept to himself.
Dark Ones were preternaturally beautiful, as were all Immortals. But Dark Ones in particular possessed an added aura of attraction, the better to beguile their prey. Whether it was their face, form, voice, or smell, everything about them spelled seduction, honeyed poison to ensnare their prey.
But Zai defied the mold.
He’d always been big-boned and rough-hewn, even as a boy. There was nothing elegant about him. He was six and a half feet tall with a bulky build of muscle heaped upon more muscle. He grew hair at an alarmingly rapid pace, whereas most Dark Ones were hairless except for their scalps.
There was nothing subtle about him, nothing remotely alluring. Amongst his Kind, he was generally considered ugly, like a stone sculpture that was only half finished. What friends he did have were creatures of the forest and domesticated animals, who cared not a whit for his looks.
He was a hunter who befriended his prey. He had always lived with the contradiction.
