The greatest challenge of my life.
I would love to be able to say that I was able to grasp blood magic as easily as the legal disciplines that I've studied, but in truth, learning this new art was the second most difficult thing I've ever had to do. I believe this was because of blood magic's clandestine nature. Everything one has ever needed to know about the arcane and divine can be found in countless books, but it is not as easy to find someone willing to put the secrets of forbidden spells to paper. Without any tomes to study in my spare time, I was forced to learn through practical application.
Blood scrying was the first part of my training and the only part I mastered without much difficulty. Samson explained that through a person's blood, we can observe any period of his or her memories and locate them if necessary. This was particularly impressive to me because even the God of Knowledge,, offers no spell that allows one to do that so easily. This confirmed the mantra that Samson put into the head of every one of his disciples: Gods are fallible and mortals will eventually surpass them.
Even though I considered scrying to be one of the simpler spells I've learned under Samson, it still took six months to master, roughly the same amount of time I spent on complex Serene spells. In this time, we relocated six times. That was the life of a blood mage, I suppose. When performing magic considered to be forbidden in the sight of the gods, even something as harmless as scrying, nothing is more important than secrecy. I learned this the hard way in my third month, when I chanced to venture beyond the confines of the abandoned fortress in which the coven was currently hiding. It wasn't far beyond this crumbled structure outside of Ridge Town that I chanced to meet someone I shouldn't have.
Miles was in the middle of a patrol when he bumped into me on the road. We greeted cordially and discussed events that have transpired since our respective departures from school. The conversation soon turned to the reason we were here. I could never tell him what I was doing, but thankfully he was not curious enough to press the subject. He had been investigating rumors of a troupe of entertainers who were traveling along the Fire Road, among who some have been seen committing crimes of heresy. He would not say what the crimes were, but he did not need to. We traveled under the guise of a traveling fair, so it was clear that he was looking for us.
I feared then that I would not be able to avoid suspicion for long, for the nearest settlement was to the South, while I would need to turn North to return to the others. Close to panic, I considered my options. I could tell Miles that he was pursuing an entire coven of blood mages, and risk judgment, but save his life. I then briefly considered simply leaving the coven and allowing Miles to walk into their trap. This was no good. The other blood mages would simply dispatch him, then set their sights on hunting me. I had remained silent too long, though, prompting a quizzical look from Miles. So, I was forced to act.
“As it so happens, I did see a caravan not far from Fort Ridge as I was passing through on my way back from Dalaska,” I explained to the spellwarrior, “It's not far from the Heron border.”
Miles flashed one of his lazy smiles. “Can you show me?”
I consented to lead him farther north, where the crumbled white ruins shimmered in the moonlight, nestled against the northern side of one of the country's northernmost mountains. I know now that I was truly mad to have led him there. The fortress once credited for holding these lands against northern invaders would soon become a place of senseless murder, I believed.
I turned out to have been wrong about that, but I wouldn't say I was thankfully so. As soon as Miles set foot into the neglected courtyard, I spotted a blood glyph painted onto the ground; just beneath his feet. He turned toward me with a look of alarm, but comprehension followed rather quickly as I did nothing to free him. He began to struggle desperately, shouting violent curses at me as I watched in stoic silence.
Samson, and a sister of the coven I knew only as Star arrived less than a minute later, roused by Miles' frantic yelling. Star was a more recent initiate than I and was rarely seen out of either Samson's company or my own. There did not seem to be anything remarkable about her at first glance, but something in her felt familiar to me. Somehow, even though Samson seemed rather amused, I did not feel any surprise to see her glaring lividly at me.
“Welcome back,” was all Samson said before waving his hand at the screaming spellwarrior, casting him into silence.
“He was a threat to us,” was all I could say in reply.
“No, he was a threat to you,” my mentor said too calmly, “Had you never wandered off on your own, you may have avoided this nuisance entirely.”
I had no answer to this accusation that did not sound simply petulant. It was then that I realized that until I met Miles, it never even occurred to me to attempt to leave the coven. I simply wanted to escape the stifling array of worn stone walls because it felt like a prison. Less than half a year into my studies I had already lost my reluctance in studying with Samson and his followers.
“No words, then? That is fine with me. Star, please take this man inside. I have further words of my own to share with Gyanda.”
“Master, I don't think I can hold him by myself.”
“I think we both know that you can handle this particular nuisance. If you don't have the stomach for it, leave him in the old mess hall.”
I had not failed to notice the single word on which Samson played the most emphasis. It had seemed odd to me at the time, especially when Star responded with a brief flash of hastily suppressed anger. I could not dwell on it, however, since my own immediate concerns were far more compelling. Samson began to pace slowly across the yard without taking his eyes off of me as Star dragged Miles away. Once they had disappeared into the fortress, he approached me with an expression I could not read.
“Do not think I am surprised by your little adventure, boy. I expected you to leave when given half a chance,” Samson said, just inches away from my face. “What surprises me is that you returned. Why?”
“I can't turn back now. The coven's path is the only one I see for the time being”
These were the words that inexplicably escaped my lips. But as soon as we heard them, I knew it to be true. I had already shamed myself too much by participating in the coven's perverse blood baths. Far from looking back on those moments with the regret I do now, I found at that moment that I quite enjoyed them. Was it my dream? Far from it, but I preferred it to the dismal existence that followed my leave of Hem Academy. That was a satisfying enough justification for me to return, I supposed.
“The only snag is the guest you brought to us,” Samson growled, suddenly stern.
“What are you going to do with him?” I asked.
“You are not the first of us to bring a stray dog home with them,” Samson said with a sickening smile. “I will let you keep him, but it will be your responsibility to feed him. And I'm afraid I'll have to insist on training him first.”
A dreadful chill overtook me as Samson strode back into the fortress. I knew that I would not wonder long what he meant by that. Upon arising the next morning, I found Miles sitting calmly at the foot of my bed. His ginger hair had flecks of gray and his skin had paled considerably. He would say nothing until I demanded that he speak to me.
“Master, I am here at Samson's request. He said you will give me blood if I obey.”
From that moment, everyone began to refer to him as a blood thrall. He began to follow me everywhere I went, begging me for blood. A brother of the coven explained that Miles had been drained of all of his blood and bewitched to serve as my familiar. I have always had my reservations about this perverse gift. I always told myself that I would find a way to return him to normal some day, but within a year, I had become so accustomed to his presence that I stopped searching.
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