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

system is the shortage of manpower as they work their way across the edge of the Broken Forest. The track, being made of ironwood to endure the constant wear from the carriages, is taking its toll on the Sprhowts and Hiberneyts constructing it.

Leonard’s design emulates that of the Old Races, in which all their structures were erected using their talents as opposed to manual labor, placing stick by stick, stone by stone. They also had far more powerful talent than today’s Azurians. The Sprhowts are dropping rapidly with the amount of energy exhausted to extend the rails. And the Hiberneyts, too, as they focus their energy on petrifying the wood to sustain its durability for ages to come. Leonard ensures us he’s not overworking the men and claims another force is taking the lives of his crews. The Cryptids, perhaps? Nigel has no information on the cause either. With the site becoming a graveyard, Leonard overlooks the death and concerns himself only with the shortage of talent. And I would wager Nigel has his weasels down there selling that fatality insurance to the workers too. A means for them to provide for their families even in death. But will it be honored?

As Leonard wraps up his plan to reinforce the manpower for his project, I look to Kell to keep the agenda moving. He waves a flat hand at me, silently gesturing he is without further notable topics. He’s been rather quiet throughout the council, save for the few irresistible cracks thrown at Shambrock when the opportunity arose.

I drain the remainder of my glass before continuing with the only topic of importance to me. Silence overtakes the room with all eyes on me.

“Now, let’s discuss the growing threat beyond the Cerulean Mountains.”

Admitting failure was difficult. But nothing compared to what I am preparing myself to do. My actions will be construed as selfish, but what I do, I do for everyone but myself. It will not be easy for a godless man to implement such, but the people are in need. I wish we never tested the waters.

12 Goose

T he flaming mallet pounding down upon me has sent me past the unspoiled medium-rare stage and into the tough well-done stage that’ll leave your jaw sore after a few morsels. I’m no longer enjoying the heat. Soon, my flesh will look like this elderly fellow’s who calls himself a friend. And now claims to be the Advocate of Greenport.

“The local Advocate? And how do I know that for sure?”

“I suppose you don’t. But honestly, do you foresee a weathered, elderly man, such as I am, taking advantage of you? I would think your enemies would send someone a bit more capable, don’t you think?”

He makes a valid point, but I stare down at him with suspicion, nonetheless. Lost in my fascination with my surroundings, I hadn’t noticed the Advocate approach. He looks as if he lives most of his life out on the delta. With leathery tan skin, silver fishhook piercings bordering each ear, and grey stubble that looks to be a few days growth, he’s not what I’d expect from a man devoted to religion. But also not what I’d expect from the Taoiseach.

Aside from the hard physical appearance, he comes across as gentle. He wears a light-grey cassock with light-blue trim that drapes from his thin arms as he reaches out to greet me. I recoil from his soft greeting.

“And what do you know of my enemies?” I scrutinize.

“Ah, yes. Good question. I know of the decisions you made four seasons ago. You fled your life from the shadow of General Greyson to protect a couple of fugitives in need. It raises many concerns why you would flee your family to help others, but you were helping others, and that is all I need to know to lend a helping hand. Your enemies are of no interest to me.”

He has a presence that demands respect. Or maybe it’s not his presence, but rather because my father embedded in me the importance of respecting my elders. Respect I will give him, but not my trust.

He offers his hand again and this time I comply. It’s a firm grasp with both of his hardened hands wrapping around mine. I notice he’s missing a few fingernails, which confirms my theory of his life on the delta.

“Wonderful. So…looks like you could use some assistance?” He gestures down to Jaymes, asleep in her litter.

“Uh…yes. Yes, sir. My sister… she’s been gravely wounded and…”

“Yes, I see,” he cuts me off. “She doesn’t look very well, does she? This will be a challenging one for her. There aren’t too many of them in this village. Healers, I mean. There are plenty of Lahyf, Sprhowts, and Hiberneyts. Dihkai, on the other hand, there have been several disappearances as of late…” He looks to the Broken Forest and shakes his head. “Sorry, I digress. That isn’t important now. Anyways, most everyone in this village lacks in the seasonal sciences. It simply doesn’t put food in your belly around here, so the majority have been raised in the fishing trade. Shall we get moving, then?”

Unsure of where exactly we’re heading or why he even knew to be looking for me, I’m nothing but wary. But I need to get to Greenport. And he says he’s from Greenport. So we’re headed in the same direction, regardless. Plus, he hasn’t prodded me on why I have a half-naked young girl in tow, so I return the favor and gesture for him to lead the way as opposed to interrogating him further.

The heat of the high sun is torture even in the shade of the tree line. I’m realizing now it’s a blessing our entire trek north had been under the cover of the high forest canopy. If Jay had to endure the direct heat for two days straight…