Custodian Chronicles: Lone Red
Velvet Descent

London was cold and wet when we arrived at Heathrow Airport. There was a slight drizzle of rain. It was London welcoming me home.

We got off the plane on time. Our entourage escorted us discreetly towards the baggage claim area. Even when we stopped by immigration, everything was swift. If I was any normal human, I’d gladly accept this kind of air travel treatment. However, we weren’t ordinary. Our looks are the only similar thing we had in common with our human brethren.

My people are called Custodians. We are an ancient race of human hybrid, who humans once thought were demi-gods. We’re blessed between two different abilities. Firstly, the Curatrix, the witches as humans called them. They were blessed with the power to cast magic from the four elements; earth, air, fire, and water. Secondly, the Kynigan, the hunters or knights as were best known in the old age. They were gifted enhanced physical abilities.

From the two, I’m a Kynigan. But not just any normal Kynigan. I’m a Custodian Royal. Not only that title burdens me, but also the fact I’m the last of my bloodline, the Knightley. The tragedy happened nine years ago when my family was murdered cold-bloodedly in our own home. We were caught off guard by the attack. And I was fortunate enough to escape death that night. However, in the past nine years since the dreaded event, I was unable to take action under the protection of the Minister of the Custodian Order, Viktor Hunter.

Nonetheless, it didn’t last too long. Nearly a month ago, one of my closest friend, also the son of the Minister, Kaleb Hunter, gave me a surprise. He was able to sanction an investigatory mission by the Custodian Order. But the mission completely turned sideways after I met a specific Lycan, Cole Blackwell. Throughout that week, I found out I was a Lycan’s – soul bound– Mate. And that his uncle, who was exiled by his Clan, was part of the people who conspired to kill my family. Yet the bad news didn’t even end there.

When we took a trip to Texas and followed a trail of evidence on who was responsible for my family’s death, we met Eliza Morgan. A formidable Custodian, and Head of the Curatrix. In our meeting, she had given us information and list of names of people who may be responsible for my family’s death. To top it off, these lists of people weren’t ordinary Custodian. They have influence and power.

As much as I wanted to do something more about it, I’m powerless in taking any action that might be worthwhile. By Custodian law, I have to be eighteen to ascend and represent my family’s name as part of the Custodian Council, the leader, and representative of the ten royal Custodian Family. However, even then, I knew power meant something different in our community. If I ever take place as head of the Knightley name, it’ll be more improbable to personally take part in an active field mission. No high ranking Custodian, especially a Custodian Royal, takes part in any field missions.

I’ve recently tasted freedom. As my eighteen birthday is fast approaching, I’m more driven to get the real answers that became my family’s demise. My blood was boiling for more. I couldn’t let it end now. Time is of the essence..

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