Runestone. Ugh. I hate that name. It’s just a reminder of the lies my “mother” gave me. I walk through the human castle, my boots thudding against the hallway rug. Knight armor is lined across the walls, decoration or intimidation? I don’t know. I smooth down my hair and straighten my tunic before arriving at the large double velvet heavy doors of the throne room. It’s better they call me Damyan. I like that one better. The two guards at the sides of the doors grip their spears nodding at me. “Lord Damyan. Good morning.” “’Morning.” I chirp. I push open the doors, stepping into the room. The rug continues down the middle of the room, stopping at a couple stairs leading to two thrones. There are intricate designs on the support poles scattered around the room. A table with at least ten chairs sits in the left corner. On the right throne, a man sits, his legs crossed and his cheek propped on his palm. “Hollowlight.” He murmurs. “How nice of you to join me.” I smile. “Hello, your majesty. It’s a lovely morning, isn’t it?” “Yes,” he drawls. “It is.” His eyes betray his real thoughts. “It’s a lovely morning for you to use your abilities for me.” Just like everyone who learns I’m a shapeshifter. The king has short brown hair with a golden crown adorned with rubies and sapphires resting on the top of it. His hair is combed towards the back of his hair, showing off his glittering blue eyes that shimmer with hidden emerald in the sunlight. He’s dressed in deep crimson velvet, the fabric heavy enough to ripple like liquid wine with every step. His cloak, fastened at the shoulder with a lion‑shaped gold brooch, is lined with white ermine fur, its black-tipped pattern marking him as someone born to rule. Beneath the cloak, he wears a tunic embroidered with gold thread, the patterns curling like vines across his chest. His belt, a band of hammered gold plates, holds a ceremonial dagger with a jeweled hilt. His crown is a circlet of aged gold, set with rubies that catch the torchlight like burning coals. Even his boots—polished black leather—carry subtle gold stitching, a reminder that nothing about him is ordinary. “Your majesty, what did you need from me?” I ask. He smiles, standing up and sweeping towards me. Then he heads for the table. “Come. Sit, Lord.” He murmurs, sliding into a chair and opening a drawer in the side of the table. As I sit, I notice on the table is a large map of the continent. The king pulls out pieces as if part of a board game, setting them on the table. He puts palaces and castles in the spots the Demon Kingdom, the Elven Kingdom, the Dragon Kingdom, and the Luna Shade Kingdom are located. Along with one for the Human Kingdom. Then he puts army pieces around the Human Kingdom castle. “The demons have grown suspicious.” I raise an eyebrow. “Really, your majesty? Demons would prefer to have peace and keep to themselves. He holds up a finger. “Ah-ah! I’m not meaning we attack. Yet.” He gestures to the enemy armies surrounding the human castle piece. “I’m just saying this could happen.” “I’ve proposed an alliance to the Demon Kingdom.” He continues. “They want me to send an ambassador to visit, enjoy the kingdom, and discuss.” “I’m sending you.” He steeples his fingers just in front of his lips, his elbows on the table. “Now, when you get there, enjoy yourself, sure. Enjoy what that kingdom has to offer. That’s what they want. Discuss their terms of alliance.” “And while you’re at it, gather information. Anything you believe useful. Befriend the king’s children, befriend the king, make someone fall in love with you, whatever you need to do.” “Why?” I ask. “Collateral. In case… this alliance doesn’t work out. I need information as blackmail.” He smiles dangerously, standing up. “You leave in the morning.” As he sweeps out of the room, he pauses at the door, looking back over his shoulder at me. “And Damyan… remember ten years ago. I saved you. You could still be a slave to that family, being whipped and prodded for your shapeshifting.” My jaw tightens. He smiles. “In case you have any ideas of helping the demons against me. I’m trusting you, Lord.”
You should’ve left that subject alone. I stand up, beating back the biting urge deep down to shift and destroy all this. I walk out of the room, nodding to the guards outside and heading down the hall again. The king’s words trigger a memory I’ve been burying. The crack of a whip, tripping and falling. Laughter, being kicked, and called a freak. I shake it off, ignoring it. It’s too raw, too soon. I open the door to my suite, stepping in. It’s a large room with a balcony, a bathroom to the right of the door. A large canopy bed and nightstand sit on the other side, with a rug in the middle of the room. It’s drab and boring, not much being in it. I open the door to the bathroom, stopping in front of the stone sink, looking in the marble of the wall, shined to the point of reflection. A scared boy stares back at me, and I sigh. Bending down to splash my face with water, I turn around, drying it with a rag and wiping off the cold sting of the water. The sound of water against stone fills the silent bathroom. As I exit, kicking off my boots and collapsing on the bed, the setting sun casts its golden rays through the balcony glass door. I push it open, stepping out and resting my forearms on the stone railing. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice asks. I jolt, looking up towards where it came from. A girl is hanging from her legs from her own balcony, her long hair falling down towards me. She has black hair streaked with purple and brown skin with glittering green eyes. She’s wearing a simple blue dress and diamond earrings. “Who are you?” I ask. “And why are you hanging?” She gasps melodramatically. “WHAT?? You don’t know who I am? I’ve walked past you thousands of times already!” “Usually I’m thinking about something else other than who I’m walking past.” I tell her. “Okay, fair.” She flips backwards off the rail, landing on my own balcony rail. She hops onto the floor of the balcony, her heels tapping against the stone. “I’m Shadow, Lord Damyan.” A spark of interest flickers inside me. She takes a bow that looks suspiciously sarcastic. I snort. “Oh, stand up. I know you don’t really care.” I stare out at the sunset. “It is pretty. The king wouldn’t find the time or the heart to appreciate it.” She leans against the rail, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure that’s treason. But true.” “What, are you just looking out into the distance, all mysterious and brooding?” She adds. “It’s not a good look for you.” She lifts her foot, nudging me in the stomach with her heeled shoes. “I think you’re more of the dramatic, showy type.” “Yeah, well, sometimes you gotta slow down.” I murmur. She gasps again, pressing her hand to her chest. “Ooh! Deep! How long did it take you to think up that one?” “Two seconds, youngster.” I say jokingly. “Youngster??” “I’m technically a century old. You’re a child compared to me.” I smirk. She prods me with her shoe again. “Everyone knows shapeshifters age different, teenager.” “So, why are you being broody?” She asks. “Usually you’re bouncing all over the castle, talking to everyone with a happy-go-lucky aura.” I snort. “Well, I’m just enjoying the sunset. I leave in the morning for the demon kingdom.” “Why?” “Diplomatic mission.” I tell her. “Oh, bleh.” She groans. “GROOSSSS AND BORRRINNGG!” “Child.” “You have no room to talk!” She prods me in the stomach again, harder this time, and I grunt. Well, that was rude. I prod her back in the leg with my sock. She snickers. “Doesn’t have the same energy when you don’t even have shoes on.” She teases. “Oh, shut up. I’m going to bed soon.” “Right. You haven’t even gotten dressed yet.” She says. “I’m not going to go out on a balcony in my nightclothes.” I grumble. “That’s just idiotic and embarrassing.” “You’re boring.” She retorts, hopping onto the rail and climbing back up to her own balcony. “Enjoy your brooding! I don’t want mom yelling at me for stunts again!” Lucky you have parents. I shake away that feeling, walking back inside and shutting the door, pulling the drapes over the glass. I collapse on the bed, slipping into fitful nightmares the minute my head hits the pillow.
