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

child tainting his name. And my mother truly was a whore. She had no right to raise a child. She wasn’t capable, nor did she want to be.

“I don’t know how I remember it, but I do. It’s an enigma. It was a day filled with emotional duress, and somehow, the memory rooted into my soul. It’s a hazy memory. I don’t recall the details, such as the physical characteristics of my mother and father or our location. What I do remember has impacted me to this day.

“Weeks after I was born, a couple months at most—I’m not quite sure—my mother and father were conversing with me perched by their side. I recall staring up at fluttering leaves with a blue back drop. There was a steady rush of sound invading my infant ears. The conversation heated quickly with raised voices, and the tension of the situation conquered my mother. Her long, leathered fingers reached for the bassinet. Her eyes, lifeless. She made her decision right then. She cradled me in her arms and the steady rushing grew louder. I remember feeling a blast of motion like she was rocking me but more violent. Suddenly, my father was standing right by her side and ripped me from her grasp. I fell to the ground and landed on a damp, dirty surface. Water was flowing. Lots of it.

“My father, outraged by her actions, proceeded to flail his arms at her. They continued to raise and slam down upon her for the longest time. She eventually stopped fighting, stopped moving. I watched my father murder my mother because he could not control his rage. It’s a memory I’ll live with forever.

“His heavy breathing calmed, and he looked down upon me, mortified. His cursed child was alert and still sitting on the riverbank. He placed me back in the bassinet, rubbed a giant thumb across my cheek, and smiled. The sky shifted as I was being raised into the air. Then, placed back down on something soft and wavy. His face slowly wandered away, and the world around me was steadily drifting by. He gave me a fighting chance. Slim, but it was more than my mother was willing to give me. After that, all I remember is darkness. Until one day my bassinet was lifted from the flowing waters. That day was brighter than any day I will ever remember.”

I cock my head and look over my shoulder, unsure of what to say.

“It was the Taoiseach. My father gave me a fighting chance and so did the Taoiseach. You would probably think I hated my father, but I thank him for what he did. He saved me. He gave me options by letting me drift off in that river. And the same goes for the Taoiseach. I’ve experienced a life of choices and consequences because of them. And he also gave me this.” She pats a hand on the colossal sword mounted to Persia. “Bright Shadow.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Does she expect me to feel compassion after forcing me to murder an innocent woman? I murdered an innocent woman. What have I done? Did I have any other choice? Was the choice even mine?

“I was born from rage. It is who I am. It is my passion, and it keeps me going. That is how I kill without remorse. But I have learned to control it.

“I don’t know where this opportunity will take you…”

Opportunity?

“…but following a shadow to its origin will only lead to light. And darker shadows lead to brighter lights. The Taoiseach may cast a very dark shadow over our realm, but the light on the other side will be unimaginable.”

“You’re a bit messed up. But that doesn’t give you the right to murder people. What was wrong with you? The curse you mentioned.”

My head remains cocked over my shoulder. Ellia stares at me, hesitant about something. She lifts the band concealing her left eye. It’s dark. Dark as night. A striking contrast to her green one. The tell-tale sign of a Graft. An indication you don’t belong with the rest of us. She was born into a taboo life without a choice. And she’s had to keep it concealed her entire life. But I never thought it to be a real sign of a Graft. Just a superstition. A fear among the masses. Like Susy being the Hybreed with the talent of all races. I never believed it to be real. Regardless, society abandoned her, and the Taoiseach brought her in. The Taoiseach gave her a life when she had none.

“So it’s true…you’re…an Imp!”

It is time to counter the weight dragging us deeper and deeper into non-existence. The Hybreed is only a man. That is not enough. I must show them something unbelievable, something undeniable, something fierce. A courageous leap of faith into a new world.

19 Goose

I ride perilously through the Garnet Plains, heading west toward the rising sun. Marauder has been solid as I forego rest and risk pushing the painted stallion to his limits. I haven’t slowed much, if any, and wouldn’t even be able to describe the first portion of my journey west if needed. The Advocate did me well with the horse he provided. And it only dropped my purse by a few copper ribs. Stone was gracious enough to split the remainder of his fortune with me when we said our goodbyes. Not that that matters much as I haven’t had a purse in four seasons, but it may come in handy when I reach Greybark.

The vast, supple hills surrounding me now are rather distracting. They go on and on without end, and their grandeur causes me to let up a bit. They’re sown with wheat that has not yet grown to a harvestable crop. The refreshing wind slashes through the vivacious, green farmland, with each gust pulsating a bolt