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

of red veins throughout the wheat as if the fields were the life of Azure. It reveals the heads of several Greenthumbs speckled throughout as they kneel between the rows to fertilize the land. It’s a laborious task, no doubt, and honorable. The Sprhowts nurturing those fields help to feed all of Azure.

I push the sappy thought from my mind as I recall the cause of the red-hued farmlands—one of the many useless facts I learned during my limited studies at the Academy. The vegetation north, closer to the Scarlet River, is affected more so. The red waters saturate the soils, causing the crops to grow red, hence the name Garnet Plains. But the red pigment only works into the base of the crop, making for green foliage at the surface and the red hues below. By the end of summer, all these fields will be a golden-rose color and ready to harvest.

Helios, not quite as limber as Marauder, trails behind us. I glance over my shoulder occasionally to ensure he hasn’t keeled over. The orange fur is easily spotted against the contrasting green fields, allowing a gap to grow between us as I push him to his limits as well. The poor beast is outliving his time, it seems, but his strong heart won’t let him wander. Stone was unable to take the cat with him on the fishing vessel the Advocate secured for him, so I offered to take charge of the beast. And he would murder me if I allowed anything to happen to the cat, so I dare not get too far ahead.

Off in the distance ahead of me, dark spots stipple the horizon. Scattered evergreens invade the cultivated fields. That must be the border of the Redcliffe Forest.

I recall Gunther’s words for navigating my way to Greybark. In the morning, ride toward the scorching heat. In the evening, away from the calming, red hues, and once you reach the speckled horizon, head northwest through the thick wood. And do have patience with the Animal King. I pleaded I would lose my way with such a vague route of travel. However, he insisted I’d be as blind as a bat if I missed it, so I took his word. And his word will indeed be tested as soon as I arrive at that forest.

Not more than an hour, and the speckles on the horizon grow to an army of massive towers standing before us. I allow the beasts a rest before penetrating the tall, rigid sentinels that guard the wood. Aside from being able to mentally note its location on a map, I know little about this wood. I prefer the tiger be at full strength before exploring the unknown.

We adjust our course due northwest just as instructed. I’m skeptical of such vague direction from an acquaintance, but his firm composure leaves me compelled. And I have little reason not to trust him after all the assistance he offered. My instincts urge me forward.

After trotting through the forest for some time, I find it mild compared to the Broken Forest in terms of the anxiety and fear it can manifest. The daylight penetrating the canopy is in surplus due to the thin evergreens and a few chance fig trees. The aura is much more serene and inviting. In fact, it’s eerie how peaceful my surroundings are. The wind blows. The trees banter back and forth in their screeching arborous language, and there’s not another whisper from any life, almost as though the wood is telling me to leave my wariness in the plains. No other sounds aside from the rhythmic hoof beats of Marauder. Not even Helios is speaking up. It causes me to nod off from time to time while letting Marauder take charge.

Hours pass, and the three of us continue grinding through the forest. No trail to be followed, only word leading us deeper and deeper into the increasingly darkening forest. Not a single sign of a village or civilization whatsoever. Plenty of evergreens, but nothing more. My doubts rise, despite the whispers of the forest saying otherwise. I should’ve known better than to take navigation advice from a former fisherman who travels by the starlight. There is no starlight in a forest. Not enough for navigation anyhow.

Too soon, the darkness hinders our travels without sight of any village, grey bark, or animal kings, so I setup camp for the night. I secure the stallion before hunkering against the trunk of a large cedar. Helios beds down next to me. Without the threat of Cryptids about, it’s not necessary to climb a tree for the evening. And with the painted stallion and the regal beast to act as alarms, I find heavy eyelids rather quick.

I wake softly with a large yawn and outstretched arms. I bend backward awkwardly to relieve a stiff lower back, which is no surprise, but oddly, my head is pounding. Hydration, perhaps.

I squint through the bright morning sun. It doesn’t take me long to realize there shouldn’t be morning sun shining on me—I’m in the middle of a forest. It’d have to be high noon.

My eyes snap open fully to find I’m not where I fell asleep. The first clue, there’s straw piled about me, and it sticks to my face when I arise. The second, more obvious clue, wooden bars surround me on all sides. I’ve awoken in a wooden cage. Is this a grizzly trap? Who would build a cage this size if not for a prison? Where are my beasts? Where are my things—my kukri, my purse, my whip? Where am I?

I jostle the bars. They’re too solid. Each extending from a single origin above, like an iron birdcage, and penetrating the ground below me. There is no bottom, just the forest floor. How deep must they be buried? I suppose that depends who built it. A