Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2) by D'Artagnan Rey (i am reading a book txt) 📗

in my time, and it is always some nutter yelling it.” He looked at the young man whose face was still forlorn and he sighed as he lowered his hand and knelt so that they were similar in height. Gently, he turned to young magi toward him. “Tell me…what are you feeling, lad?”

Devol looked at the abyss again. It was all but gone and the small gathering on the hill paused to watch as the last of the anomaly was absorbed into the portal before the rift disappeared.

“He’s gone for good now.” He drew his majestic and looked at the blood on the blade. Absently, he fumbled in one of his pouches to find a cloth to wipe it with but it must have fallen out during the fighting.

His companion deduced this, removed a soft gray cloth from his pouch, and handed it to the boy, who took it and attempted to clean the blade. “I shouldn’t be so bothered,” Devol muttered, his voice low and quiet. “He was a killer and proud of it. His boast was that he came here to kill me, my friends, you, Vaust…anyone—” He stopped wiping his weapon almost as soon as he had begun and lowered his head. “And yet I can’t…I can’t stop shaking now.”

Wulfsun studied the boy. Indeed, his hands shook although it was subtle. Years of swordplay had driven the need for self-control into him, but he could not stop this. The man placed a massive paw on top of his hands to steady them and Devol realized that for all the fire he had recently dealt with, he was cold.

“It is all right,” the Templar said and gave him a moment to breathe. “Those of us who have been in battle for so long take the innocence we once had for granted. I had hoped to prepare you myself for the actions you would have to take in this profession.”

“I should have been ready,” the swordsman interrupted and his voice cracked. “I was! I ran him through—he left me no choice!” He turned his blade and drove it into the earth. “I had planned to be a guard and read stories of knights and heroes who vanquished evil-doers with their might. I knew I would have to do so myself, no matter what path I chose.” He tightened his grasp on the hilt of his sword. “Why does this bother me? He was nothing more than evil. He was—”

“Human,” Wulfsun said quietly to end his tirade. “That’s the thing, Devol. Even with everything he was at the core, it can be easier to accept the death of a monster that has scales and claws than one with flesh and a visage like yours.” He stood and drew a deep breath. “I killed my first man—well, first three—when I was about a year or so older than you. It was during a scouting mission on some bandits that went tits-up. We weren’t even supposed to confront them and had been ordered to report them to local guards. But I guess I wasn’t built for stealth, even as a boy. In a way, I was lucky. Not only was I trained all my life to fight like my life depended on it, but I was so busy trying to fight within the chaos that it didn’t hit me until it was all over.”

Devol nodded and rubbed his eyes. “I feel the same way. It wasn’t until I saw him sink into that portal that I truly understood what I had done.”

The Templar folded his arms, his expression one of understanding. “In the end, I threw myself into my training and snuck some alcohol in from time to time, but I didn’t let it linger. I don’t recommend that, however. It led me to be…not myself for a while.” He straightened, took a few steps in front of the boy, and turned to him. “Devol, you must understand that neither I nor anyone in the order wants to force this life upon you. You have been a great help and will do incredible things no matter where you go. If you need to find another—”

“I will not.” As he looked at his mentor with determination in his eyes, Devol said, “I am—will be—a Templar. I know this will not be the last time I will have to strike down other magi like myself, but I will not let that stop me. I know I can do…I can help more here than anywhere else. I believe that.”

Wulfsun considered this a for a moment before he placed a large hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you feel that way, lad, but I know it hurts. Your first kill will always be something that shakes your foundation. But understand the fact that you can care about someone like him—an evil magi who wished to do you and your friends harm—and still choose to confront him and do what needed to be done. That is a strength that it takes most people years to come to terms with, if they ever do. I’m proud of you, boyo. You did well.”

Devol nodded and a few tears spilled as he smiled a little less shakily. “Thank you, sir.”

“Is everything all right?” Asla asked as she and Jazai joined them. “Farah is asking for you, Wulfsun.”

The Templar nodded. “She probably needs me for her report. I’m praying to the Astrals that she won’t make me talk to her boss again.” He sighed and scratched his chin. “I’ll go and deal with that and hopefully, we can find an inn and get some rest before we return to the order hall.” He took a few steps away but paused for a moment to turn to them and smile. “You all did well. Thanks for watching my back.”

“Of course,” Jazai responded with a weary but earnest grin. “I wouldn’t want to be the one to have to explain to Zier why you didn’t make it back. He’d find a way to