Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1)

by Jonathan Michael

  I grab her hand. “Astor. Please.”

  Her eyes look to my hand touching hers. Then to the table with a sheepish grin on her face. She finds my question humorous. “How do I put this politely? You’d fall flat on your face if I didn’t.”

  “No. I mean why are you really helping me? We hardly know each other. We’re merely acquaintances with one thing in common, and that was a young girl in need of your help. She’s no longer here, which I question daily why I haven’t gone to search for her, but that is another topic. Why did you persuade me to start a new life here, and why is it so important to you I succeed?”

  She continues to stare at the table, and her face reddens. Her smile turns flat. There’s pain hiding in her thoughts.

  “Love.”

  Or not. What? “Love?” I repeat.

  “Don’t misinterpret that. Sorry. I meant love for my father, for you, for all citizens of Azure. Stone, your self-awareness is lacking. You have so much potential with your talents, yet you fail to see it. When we first met, Jaymes’s injury was a fatal one. She should have been dead by the time you arrived, but she wasn’t. I have never heard of anyone living to see another day after an encounter with a Cryptid. That creature flayed her from head to toe, and the blood loss should have put her into an immediate down spiral, but it didn’t. Your healing abilities are impressive for not having an education. However…”

  She looks me in the eye. There’s her beauty again. Entrancing me.

  “You need to learn how to evolve them into something more…more controlled and…and intentional.”

  “What are you telling me? What are you gaining from this?”

  “It benefits everyone. Why do my actions need to be selfish?” Her brow curls inward.

  “Everyone’s actions are selfish!” I snap. I’m not sure why.

  “You know, Stone, I was starting to warm up to you, but with these insults, I’m…I’m…” She throws her hands in the air, growling, and removes herself from the table. She turns her back to me. “I have done nothing but help you overcome your challenges, and yet, you still don’t trust me. What do I have to do?” She hides her face in her palms. Subdued sniffling brushes the silence.

  “I’m sorry, Astor. I know I have trust issues, but what you’re telling me, that there isn’t anything in it for you, it’s hard to believe. You have a home. And it’s not here. Not with me. I don’t understand.”

  “Why are we so cruel to one another? My actions are selfish. I admit it. I’m doing this for my father.” She turns and looks up to me with her head hanging low. I wait for further clarification. “Nobody simply helps for the sake of helping. Do they? I suppose you’re right. There is always a catch. My father, he…” She sniffles. “…he died several seasons ago. It was a fishing accident. I tried to save him. I did. I tried everything I could, but in the end, my Hiberneyt talents weren’t enough. He needed a real Healer. Someone with…someone with your talent. Lahyf talents. I have been dedicating my time to helping everyone I could since then and experimenting with new forms of healing. There isn’t always a Lahyf readily available. Not those who are talented enough to heal the fatal injuries. The healing trade has been steadily dwindling. So, I thought it important, not just for me but for society as a whole to take on this great task of healing without talent. And I hope to teach Survival Sciences at the Academy one day. Assuming the Taoiseach will approve, of course. I can’t let it start and stop with me. And you’re the next step in my cause. So, yes, you’re right. My actions are selfish.”

  Guilt stabs at me from all directions. How could I possibly accuse her of fallacies? I’m ashamed. “I’m sorry about your father. I didn’t know.” I’m too familiar with her pain.

  “I know you don’t mean harm. You have much reason to mistrust others, but that is not who I am. I am not here to mislead you, Stone. I am here to help improve your knowledge of the seasonal sciences, and yes, my actions are a bit selfish, but you will only gain from this as well. Trust me. I can help you with your studies.”

  “Okay. I’ll put it behind me. You have my complete trust.” Her smile radiates through the room but simmers out rather quickly. Maybe her thoughts have turned back to her father. It is more than any youth should ever have to endure.

  After putting my mistrust behind me, we restore the evening study session. Astor, now seated across from me, picks it back up right where we left off. I want to pound my head against the table. It’s too late in the evening to drown ourselves in the excitement of etiquette.

  “‘One…’” She looks up from the text. I assume to make sure I’m focused. “‘…do not use your talent for your own personal gain at the expense of another sentient organism.’” She lowers the text. “Defiling another’s crops to promote a more bountiful harvest for yourself is an obvious example.” She goes back to it. “‘Two, do not use your talent on another individual without their consent. This applies to Lahyf only. Talents of all other races should never be used on a sentient organism. Exceptions to this will be covered in a different section of the text.’” Face buried, her eyes find mine over the top of the text. “This next one has a lot of grey areas. ‘Three, do not use your talent on yourself. This one is the hardest to regulate—'”

  “Astor…can we move on to a different subject? I don’t know if I have the energy to endure this.”

  She scowls at me and reaches for the spoon again. I pull my hands from the table.

  “I thought you were all about love and caring?” I add.

  “You’re correct. But don’t interrupt. That’s disrespectful. Love and caring aren’t consequences you’ll learn from.” A devious smile suddenly stretches across her face. “Okay then… Anytime you fail to have proper etiquette, you have to endure one of my healing experiments. You get to be my test subject.”

  “Aren’t I already? I’m allowing you to be my tutor.” She frowns. It’s a cute frown, revealing dimples in her chin.

  “Fine. First, you’ll get the lashing, then I get to experiment with my herbal medicines.”

  “What? But…” I know it’s hopeless. She’s already decided. “…I don’t know how to control my healing.”

  “You better learn, then. Let’s move on. You already understand what needs to be done of you, so from here on out, it’s discipline I will be teaching you. The next topic, Intro to Seasonal Science.” She doesn’t even take a breath. She jumps right into the next subject. “You’d be surprised how many men, women, and children there are in this world that know very little about the seasonal sciences and the talents they’re born with. Where they come from, what they can do, and how to use them to their fullest potential is all important information and not something to take for granted. It will take a lifetime to master your talent, and the only way to get there is by understanding the fundamentals. This is what we know of our enigmatic abilities…”

  She carries on, explaining the four major principles of our talents, everything I’m already well aware of. I would not dare to interrupt her at this point, however.

  “One, there are only four classifications of talents, which are Lahyf, Sprhowt, Dihkai, and Hiberneyt. You know these as a human’s race.

  “Two, every human possesses the talent, and it is determined solely by the season that person is born within. If you are born in Spring, you’ll have the talents of the Lahyf; Summer and you’ll have that of the Sprhowt; Autumn—Dihkai; and Winter—Hiberneyt. Understood?” She pauses and her eyes narrow, ensuring I’m listening. I nod in response.

  “Three, the classification of talents cannot be shared, inherited, or mixed with one another in any way. An individual is either one or the other, not a combination. The legend of the Graft simply isn’t true.” She pauses again. This time her mind wanders. She shakes her head as if it will dissolve her thoughts.

  “Four, talents are something humans are born with. However, like any skillset, they require education and development to harness their true potential. This is why so many don’t take advantage of the
ir talents. To put it simply, they have not been educated, so they don’t know any better. The mass population is ignorant of their true potential, which is why being taught at this facility is such a prestigious achievement. You ought to feel blessed, Stone.”

  I raise my hand. “You don’t need to raise your hand to ask questions in a tutorial session,” she explains.

  “I didn’t want to get a lashing,” I reply with a smug grin.

  “Do not tantalize me. I will follow through with disciplinary action. Now, what is it?” she replies.

  “I have just one question. Why do we have talent? I have never seen any other life form with the ability to do what we can, so…why us? Why not the beasts of the world?”

  “That is a ridiculous question.” She purses her lips. “I’m glad you asked me and didn’t spurt that one out in your class. That’s like asking why an ape is hairy and we are relatively hairless. It’s evolution,” she patronizes, but rightfully so.

  I don’t think she understands why I’m not familiar with the most known topic in the world. Maybe because I’ve been hidden away since my youth. I fear to remind her, though.

  “This is Intro to the Seasonal Sciences,” she continues, “not the Meaning of Life. Now, let’s move on to the next topic. We have a lot of information to touch on tonight. I’m still trying to grasp what you know and don’t know. I must determine whether you’re up to speed with your peers.”

  I raise my hand again.

  “What?”

  “Are you saying you have no faith, not one tiny crumb of faith, that I’ll be ahead of my peers in any of the topics I’m learning?” I smile in hopes it will lighten her disposition.

  “Are you trying to be humorous? No. You’re right, Stone. I am quick to judge. And optimistic. Let’s be realistic, you’re way behind in all your courses, not just a little behind. I know I have my hands full here, but I’m up to the challenge.”

  “Hey! You don’t have to insult me.” An elusive laugh escapes her, and I follow suit. Then we both break out into full belly-laughs. Why we are laughing so hard is beyond me. I suppose we’ve both had too much sorrow in our lives, and this is our escape. It is good to see such a brilliant smile on her face.

  “Now, seriously…” She takes a deep breath to collect herself. “We have much to cover tonight, so let’s continue.”

  “Of course, Miss Greyheart,” I reply in a stern, sarcastic tone. She deflates all hope of more laughter when she carries on the studies without acknowledging me. At least I got her to break for a bit.

  “What do you know of Regeneration?” she continues.

  “That is such a broad question.”

  “Okay, well, let’s start with the basics. Regeneration is the process of mending broken or damaged organic tissue by means of the Lahyf talents. In essence, it’s a means to heal nearly any kind of ailment.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know that. We don’t have to begin with everyday, common knowledge,” I interrupt. She grips her wooden spoon, and I shy away. “Sorry.”

  “You forget I know very little about you, Stone. Although I lobbied to have you admitted into this school, it was only because of your potential, not because of what you currently know or don’t know. I have no knowledge of your previous studies, so where would you like to begin?” she asks.

  “I’ve been regenerating since I was a toddler. I started with experiments on plants and small animals. I know about all the basics. I want to know more about my limitations. How far can I take regeneration? When does regeneration stop and revival begin?”

  “Revival?” she asks. “You know the answer to that question. Please, let’s take this serious, Stone. You must keep good marks in your courses to continue attending.”

  “I am being serious. I know common knowledge says revival is impossible. Nobody can reenergize a heart once it has stopped beating, but what if—”

  “Stone!” she exclaims irritably. “It is impossible.”

  “I’ve done it!” I admit. She shifts back in her seat and shakes her head. I suppose I didn’t need to shout it.

  “It is impossible, Stone,” she consoles in a calming voice.

  “Don’t say it’s impossible,” I retaliate. “What about what you said to me the other day. ‘Always question the known and obvious; always look for a better answer to an unproven theory.’ That is science, right? And what we’re discussing right now is science, right? I’m telling you… I’ve experienced it. I don’t know how, but it happened to a man I recently met on my travels.”

  “Stone. Are you sure he was dead? Sometimes the body can imitate death, but…it is only lying dormant from shock or extreme conditions that result in temporary unconsciousness.”

  “Well…,” I click my fingernails together and look away from her. “…he was as near to death as a man can be without being dead, I suppose. But had I not been there, he would have died. He was only clicks away from death.” I look to my fingernails and stop clicking them.

  “There you have it. I don’t want to completely discount your experience, Stone, but until you have further evidence, it is rather hard for me to believe. I would rather be honest with you than entertain what could possibly lead you down a path you might not be able to come back from. Talk of revival will cause people to think you a harebrained lunatic. Science is attempting to prove an unproven theory, but this theory has been proven to be false, Stone. Many people have attempted it. Many people from the Old Races, who were far more powerful than we will ever be. And none have been successful. It is a feat that has been disproven over and over again and has caused the demise of some great citizens of Vedora due to their inability to relinquish the fact it is impossible. You must drop it, Stone.”

  “Fine,” I reply bleakly, breaking eye contact. She’s unconvinced. As she should be. She’s wrong. There must be somebody else in this city who can explain what happened.

  “Drop it,” she repeats more assertively.

  “Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it wasn’t revival, but it was more than regeneration.” She lowers her head and glares at me. “But it’s not important right now. Let’s learn the fundamentals first,” I acquiesce.

  “You’re not taking this seriously tonight. We can move onto Stealth and Combat if you’d rather get physical.” She looks up at me deviously, one eyebrow hiked. I show my approval with a lascivious gesture. A red blanket drapes her cheeks.

  She finagles with the belt about her waist. More of an accessory, really, with how thin it is. She slips it from her waist, and my eyes grow wide. What is going on? Is she taking off…

  “Argh!” She cracks me with the belt right across my shoulder. “What was that for?”

  “Imprudence. Stay on track. And think with your mind, not that ungodly appendage that seems to control so many men.”

  She puts the belt on the table right next to the wooden spoon. The tools of tutoring. With Astor, it’s more like torture.

  “Moving on, then.” And her eyes rapidly shift back to the parchment. “How about the History of Lahyf?” she insists.

  I nod my head incredulously. “Yes, History of Lahyf. Not so far off from the meaning of life, don’t you think? It sounds like a splendid topic to cover.”

  “Good.”

  I pull the collar of my shirt back to see the damage done, and sure enough, there is a brilliant red mark. A thin slit of dark red blood amidst the irritated flesh mends before my eyes, and the blemish vanishes soon after.

  Astor stands. “May I?” she pleas and gestures toward my shoulder. Her hand is nowhere near her belt or that wooden spoon, so I relax. She pulls back my tunic and examines my shoulder. “If only my medicines could perform such wonders.” She tugs at my collar, scanning farther back than where the belt landed. “What’s this?”

  “A scar,” I mutter, unprepared for her probing. “Why?”

  “Where did you get it from? When?” she probes further.

  “My childhood,” I reply. “My last encounter with Harris Martelli before my a
dmittance into his academy. Why?”

  Her hand snaps away as though it’ll bite her. Or as if it were contagious. “This is more involved than I had imagined…” She trails off in thought.

  “Astor?” I wave my hand in front of her face. She remains standing over my shoulder. Her presence warming, but unnerving. As much as I enjoy her closeness, I interrupt the moment. “What are you saying?”

  There is a partial handprint wrapped around the base of my neck. Low enough to be hidden by any tunic. The mark was pure black at inception but has faded over time. Like everlasting ink that cannot be scrubbed away and only time will undo. She’s familiar with the mark.

  “I thought he was interested in you to sever loose ends. I thought he wanted you under his wing to ensure you didn’t do anything drastic. But he intends for you to be one of his pawns.”

  “Astor?” I rise face-to-face with her. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “Stone…” she breathes my name. Almost a whisper.

  I shrug my shoulders, leaning in closer.

  “It’s…a bond,” she continues. “Harris. He is far more knowledgeable of the talents than you or I could ever comprehend. I don’t understand it myself, but that mark he placed on your shoulder is more than just a reminder of the pain he inflicted upon you. It forms a connection.”

  My brow wrinkles, and I comb a hand through my hair, massaging my head. “I feel the pain throbbing from time to time. It’s not just a reminder, it’s a phantom, a ghost that lingers inside me. But I’ve gotten used to it over the seasons.”

  “That’s not what I mean, Stone. Have you ever done anything you couldn’t remember, or…or couldn’t control?”

  I shake my head. “No. Never. I don’t think. But…would I know?” What is she saying? Does Harris have control over my actions because of this?

  “It’s a bond. Between you and Harris. I just witnessed your shoulder heal within moments of being split open. Why do you think your body has never mended this scar? It is more than just a wound or an annoyance. I don’t know how to explain it, but somehow, it gives him control.”