Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2) by D'Artagnan Rey (ebook reader with highlight function .txt) 📕

asked with a sly smirk. “I suppose I can’t be too upset. This can be considered your way of checking me.”

“That was the idea, yes,” the diviner replied with a sly smirk.

“I’ve dealt with diviners before so if you have what you need, let me take a guess as to how to deal with that.” She flared her anima. It was yellow, similar to Wulfson’s but a few shades paler.

Jazai raised an eyebrow and looked at his tome, now reading only her current thoughts. His smirk disappeared as he pursed his lips at what he read, then looked at her. “Well, that is unnecessarily hurtful.”

“But it is amusing.” Asla snickered as she read the tome over his shoulder.

He moved the book away and scowled. “Would you mind your own business?”

“Ha-ha! I like her wit,” Wulfsun declared, also reading the book as the boy had moved it close to him when he tried to get it away from the wildkin.

“Oh, come on now!” Jazai sighed and the Templar snatched the book from him.

“If you can serve it you should be able to take it, Jazai.” The man chortled as he flipped the pages back. “Let’s see here…ah, I was right.” He pointed toward the guard. “You are Osiran.”

“I am.” She nodded and put her sword down. “And before you ask, yes I was born and raised there. I joined my lord’s employ after I assisted in defeating a bandit raid during a visit. He offered me a better position and pay.”

“Do you miss it?” Asla asked and her ears flattened slightly.

“Sometimes,” she responded casually. “I prefer the temperature here. You grow accustomed to the dry climate in Osira but I was born in Rokati, which is more tropical. The food is better there as well. We prefer more varied spices than you do here in Renaissance.”

“We had some of our order headed to Osira,” Devol mentioned and a metal hand slapped the back of his head which made him hit the table. “Ah!”

“It’s not the kind of thing you mention casually, boy!” Wulfsun folded his arms in disapproval. “Well, now that it’s been mentioned, there has been a sighting of something similar to what you described in your homeland.”

“I am aware of that,” Farah revealed, which surprised him. “I stay in contact with some of my friends and associates in my clan. On top of that, these…irregularities are popping up all over. We have been in contact with other kingdoms and these dark spots have formed across the land. From what I know, there is the one here in Levirei, one in Osira near Yastan, and one in the kingdom of Kanako as well. Britana is probably the worst off. I’ve heard that there are two there. I assume there are others in Soel, Fredom, and Norvian as well but they have not informed us—or the capital hasn’t, at least.”

“I see,” Wulfsun nodded. “Then we should probably get to work. If we can find a way to destroy or shut down these ‘dark spots,’ I want to return to tell my order so others can deal with them more efficiently.”

“Understood and well spoken.” She picked her sword up and pushed from her chair. “Take whatever you wish from the table. We’ll go by carriage to the council towers where Lord Maximillian awaits.”

“Maximillian?” Jazai asked and looked at his teammates. “Is that his last name?”

“No, it is his first,” Farah said. “He prefers to use his first name and says it shows that he is simply another one of the people.”

“But you still call him lord,” Asla noted.

“Yes, he prefers that as well.” Farah sighed and took a bite of one of the cheeses as she moved to the door. “I should give you fair warning, My lord is somewhat…eccentric.”

“Of course he is,” Wulfsun grumbled and snatched the flask of ale. “I know these types and am probably gonna need this. Let’s go, you three.”

Chapter Twenty

“So you see, mister...” Lord Maximillian Torvel trailed off as a servant poured another glassful of wine into a freakishly large goblet.

“Wulfsun, your lordship.” Wulfsun muttered something under his breath. He tried his best to remain calm and composed and made a good show of it. Devol intercepted irate glares from both Jazai and Asla at the casual demeanor of this lord. Given the circumstances, one would think he would be more earnest.

The man placed his feet on his desk and motioned to a chair in front of him. “Yes, my apologies. It’s been such a busy last few days. I’m certainly glad you accepted the offer I posted on behalf of the city.”

“On behalf of all the lords?” Devol asked. “I thought this was on behalf of the military or the city itself.”

Maximillian raised an eyebrow in scorn. “Hmm… Oh yes, you are from Monleans. Everything runs through the king and his cabinet. You see, my dear boy, that is not how things are run here in Levirei. Although it is not your fault that you don’t understand that.” He leaned forward and slipped his hand inside the pocket of his jacket to retrieve a small box decorated in red and yellow and adorned with symbols that looked like a serpent swallowing its tail.

“My apologies,” Devol said because it seemed like the right thing to do. He glanced at his friends. Asla merely shrugged and gave him a sorrowful look while Jazai stared out the window and wondered if the seven stories to the streets below were enough for him to successfully commit suicide. “In that case, can you tell us why you were the one to post the mission?”

“He’s rather new to this, isn’t he?” Maximillian asked as he took a rootstick from his ornate box and lit it. Violet smoke drifted slowly through the air. “It is fine, however. In fact, it is rather delightful to see one so young take up a cause and one born in our capital, no less. Did you know I’m running for lordship of economics