Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Jonathan Michael (red novels .txt) 📖

or Solstice, to be current on the topic. And Social Etiquette…well, everyone should learn proper manners. When you are associated with an elite level of soldiers, you must learn to present yourself in such a fashion that demands respect. Social Etiquette will guide you there. Any more questions?”

“Yes, what in Susy’s four hells am I getting myself into?”

“You should really stop cursing like that. It is not fitting for a student of the Academy. Or any gentleman. Here.” She holds up a fancy surcoat. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?” I grab the jacket reluctantly.

“Begin your orientation. Someone needs to show you around campus and introduce you to your instructors.”

“What’s this for?” I inspect the coat.

“You need a new wardrobe, but this will do for now. And you should at least comb your hair. We don’t have time today, but we need to get you cleaned up. Your attire and grooming are not to the standards of a student attending the Academy. We can fix that later, though. The surcoat will be enough for today. Come, let’s go.”

“But…” I reach for Life Bringer. I don’t want to leave it unattended at the inn. It’s all I have left of my family.

“What? No…” Astor pushes my arm down. “You can’t bring that. It’s a family heirloom. The spectacle of it alone will draw far too many questions. You must keep that hidden.”

“I can slide it under the surcoat. It’ll be unnoticeable.”

“Hardly. You’d have horns sticking out of your back. Find a more suitable harness for it, then we’ll discuss carrying it about campus. Not today. Leave it.”

Astor walks out the door into the hallway of the inn. I brush my fingers through my hair. My scalp feels oily and gritty, and I’m sure it doesn’t have a pleasant smell either.

I scramble to put on the surcoat and rush out the door to catch up. On the way to visit the first of my long list of instructors, Astor informs me of which courses are more important than others and which courses I need to be well behaved in and which courses I must exceed expectations in. I wait for her to tell me which classes I can casually drift through, but there are none. Tardiness is intolerable, and expectations are to be exceeded. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach with all the restrictions and expectations. Four seasons on my own without any form of authority, and now it sounds like I can’t even skip bath time. Once again, I’m wondering what I’ve committed myself to. I should be out searching for Jay. The only proof I have that she is alive is Astor’s word. It’s not that I don’t trust her. Reality is I don’t even know her that well. Yet, her kindness and something else I cannot pinpoint are proving to win every battle over my hesitations. Why does she have this hold over me?

Astor jabbers too long and too quickly, so not everything sinks in, but what I do hear is Stealth and Combat and Armaments will be demanding of me physically, which is expected. And Intro to Regeneration is key to my success in the program. The last thing she mentions is the instructor of the Social Etiquette class is someone I will struggle with but must learn to tolerate. I desperately want to turn back and hide in my room as we near the Academy.

There are students all about the commons as we stroll through. It leaves me unnerved being around so many people. So many potential threats. I keep my eyes close to the ground or out in the distance to avoid them.

The buildings are just as I remember. Finely crafted grey stone bricks towering into the air with much detail to the ornament. Cornices decorating the parapets, quoins pronouncing the corners, elaborate stone columns supporting the entryways, stone banding wrapping the structures midway up. They surround us on all sides as we stroll through the courtyard between them. Many windows arrayed in a uniform fashion. Buildings behind those that circumference the courtyard tower even higher. There is one I don’t recall that stands out amidst the others. It’s a wooden structure. Elegant in its own way, but not matching the other buildings.

“What’s that building over there?” I point to it.

“That there is the flight chamber, young sir.” A man’s voice calls out from behind us. “Miss Greyheart?” We both turn to look. She squints in the low-rising sunlight and brushes her platinum hair over her ear with a smile forming.

“Miss Greyheart! What a delight. What brings you here?”

A tall man wearing tight, boisterous green warrior’s garb approaches. He is a man with a charming appearance. Light-brown locks that appear to be brushed daily run down to his shoulders. Bright-green eyes shimmer in the early light. Large muscles, and a complete set of pearly whites. In fact, they are more than pearly. Pearls have a slight tinge. These are brilliant, almost blinding. I have an urge to greet them with my knuckles. I don’t know why. And look at the way she smiles at him.

One thing that’s off about him is the countless scars. One large one across his face and several across his shoulders and chest. Astor is basically drooling, though. She doesn’t seem to find them grotesque at all.

“Master Sephyre! How wonderful to see you.” Astor greets him in an unrecognizable light and airy voice as she delicately brushes her platinum hair behind her ear again.

“It’s been a few seasons, hasn’t it? Your beauty is more breathtaking than I remember.” Astor’s face turns pink. “What could possibly pull you from that quaint port down south and draw you back to the capital?”

Astor hides it well, but I see a flash of sadness on her face at the mention of her hometown. “Let’s just say opportunity