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

“Understood. My mother died when I was young too. A few seasons younger than you are now, I presume. I had some hateful feelings toward her for making me endure a life with my father alone. I would never tell anybody that, however, so keep it a secret, okay?”

“What’s wrong with your father?” she probes innocently.

He’s a bastard. He cares for duty more than family. He chose duty over me.

“There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s an honorable man. He’s the General of the Crimson Guard. Very respectable, but it’s difficult to be his son. I think maybe he puts some of the blame on me for my mother dying. I don’t know why. She came down with an illness, and regardless of the Healer’s attempts, her body wouldn’t hold on. My father has as much pain from her loss as I do, and, well… He knew as much about raising a child as I did about being a warrior. I don’t blame him, and I still strive for the greatness he expects of me.”

“Wow. I thought maybe he was wrong in the head or something, or maybe he was a cripple and she left you to care for him. I didn’t expect it to be so intense.”

“Yeah, well…like I said, I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, so keep it a secret. Because I’ll deny it for as long as I live.”

“Understood,” she replies.

A silence takes us. I think back on the memory of my parents together.

I can see my mother’s smile. There was so much love in that smile. So much care for everyone around her. If she were still here, I would still be there. With both of them. My father never would have made the decisions he did had she been around to set him right. So much anger grew inside him. He needed more. And she filled that hole within him when she was alive. I would never have had to flee. I was afraid of what would become of us. Because of him. But I exiled myself anyways when I helped Stone and Jaymes on my way out. My mother’s death broke us apart. But I found a new family in Stone and…Jay. This girl resembles her too much.

She breaks the silence. “My father was…the same. Sort of. He was a good, solid figure, respected in the community, but it always seemed like he had his own agenda for me. He wanted me to be a lady. He wanted me to brush my hair, clean things, and learn to do whatever it is a woman is supposed to care for. He was never proud of me. He gave me a bow when I was younger, thinking it would be harmless, but I haven’t been able to put it down since. The exhilaration you get when piercing your target perfectly from sixty paces out. The thrill of the hunt. The satisfaction you can physically taste after you’ve butchered and seared your kill. I loved it, and I wouldn’t let go of it no matter how much he pushed other girly tasks on me. I would do everything he asked. I helped my mother prep all the meals. I helped her clean up afterward. I gave it my best attempt at holding my tongue and speaking like a proper lady, and I did it all for him. Now he’s gone. Now they’re gone.”

“I’m sorry…err… what’s your name, by the way?”

“Oh… Yeah… Zoie.” She greets me with an outstretched hand, and I grip it firmly.

Her hand is rough to the touch. Like a tiger’s tongue or perhaps tree bark. Living in a canopy must build some deep calluses.

As we let go of each other’s hands and look at one another, an awkward silence falls on us. I realize we’re complete strangers, yet I opened up so freely. Now it’s uncomfortable.

“Do you want it?” Zoie breaks the silence.

“Want what?” My face contorts.

“The bow my father gave me,” she says merrily.

“What…why…why would you offer me something like that?”

“It’s not a great bow. I have a new one I designed myself. I’ve made several improvements that allow me the distance and accuracy of a standard size bow but designed for my small figure. See?” She holds up her bow.

It looks like a standard recurve bow that is too big for her, but maybe there’s something about the wood that better suits her.

“A gift from your father, I couldn’t possibly take it. And you shouldn’t be offering it.”

“Don’t worry. My father introduced me to the sport, and that is what I treasure. I’m not so attached I must hold onto an ancient bow that I’ll never use. Plus, it’s built for a little girl. Perfect for you.” She winks.

“Are you sure?” I reply, disregarding her insult. I refuse to reward her with the pleasure she’ll get from it.

“You’re going to have to feed yourself somehow.”

“What do you mean? The generosity of this village is overwhelming. I’ve only been here a short while, but I have never been left hungry.”

“The bow. You’ll need to use it. Just wait. You’ll see what I mean.”

I’ll need it. What does that mean? Have the fruits they’ve offered me thus far been poisoned? Should I stop eating what they offer? What gain would they get from that? Or maybe her offering goes beyond her comment about needing to feed myself. Maybe I’m not as safe here as I’d thought. Maybe it’s all a guise.  Or maybe they expect me to hunt the Redcliffe Guardian? No, not a chance. He’s some form of a protector for their village. It could be Graytu has more challenges yet to unfold and Zoie knows something of the matter. I hesitate, stroking a hand through my hair, but I accept the gift.

“Shall we get back to the celebration?” I ask.

“Yeah. We’ve