Chapter Seven #2
Before I could reply, a cold shiver ran down my spine, my exposed skin erupting in goosebumps.
I glanced over my shoulder, finding some of the same girls from my history class sitting at a table a few yards away.
Among them sat a tall, pale girl with long, straight, onyx hair.
Her dark eyes locked on me, one hand holding her cup of coffee while the other hung in the air by her head, her pointer finger seemingly making little shapes in the air.
Another shiver ran up my spine, and just as I turned away, I swear I could have seen shadows dancing around her fingers.
I shook my head, pushing the memory of my bizarre lunch out of my mind as Alaric and I headed into the library. I followed him up to the second floor, but paused when I noticed he kept walking, heading directly towards the staircase to the third floor.
“Where are you going?” I asked, confused as to why he would go up there where students weren’t allowed.
“To a safe place where we can talk. Follow me,” he commanded.
I looked around, afraid a teacher or another student would see us, but it looked like we were alone. I followed him up to the third floor. We passed by the door to the storage room and the teacher’s lounge, making for the special collections room.
“Wait, don’t we need the librarian’s key to get in here?” I looked over my shoulder, nervous we were going to get caught.
“Not necessary when I have my own copy.” He shrugged as he waved the key over his shoulder.
“Where did you get that?” I whispered, following him into the special editions room after he casually unlocked it, like it was the door to his own home.
“Perks of being me,” he replied mysteriously.
He closed the door behind me, leading me past the long table in the center of the room.
On the other side of the long table were rows of bookshelves that were encased in glass, presumably to protect these special editions.
Alaric led me down one shelf to a dark corner.
He motioned for me to sit on the floor as he started to make strange motions in the air, as if he were writing something. Just like the girl from lunch.
At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then there were flashes of light, and symbols in a dark red and orange glow came forth from his fingertips, like fire.
The symbols didn’t make sense, but I sat entranced as I watched him spell them out.
After a moment, I felt a deep thrumming through the floor, and the air surrounding the corner we were in felt muffled, as if a sound barrier had been put in place.
Alaric turned and smiled, sitting down, legs crossed in front of me, pulling his bag in between us.
“What was that?” I mumbled, dumbfounded. He really could do magic.
“It’s called a blood sigil ward, and it is a protection and silencing spell,” he replied easily, pulling an ancient tome from his bag. “You’ll learn it soon enough.”
“So, you are my mentor, huh?” I held up my pointer finger with his ring, now mine. “We’re bonded or whatever?”
Alaric looked up, his face blanching. “How much did your uncle tell you?”
His sudden change in demeanor surprised me. Was there some rule that only your mentor could tell their apprentice about magic?
“Not a lot,” I admitted. “Just that my constant headaches are caused by death echoes and that with this ring I’m cured of them for now but also bonded to you in that I am your student and you need to teach me how to harness my powers so I don’t go crazy.”
He sighed, seemingly relieved as he turned the pages in the book, flipping to the first page. He turned the book toward me, where I saw a long description of Bloodwright magic and a symbol much like the one on the ring I was currently wearing.
“This ring has what’s called a Bloodroot Circle ward embedded within it, meant for protection,” he began to explain, pulling my hand into his as he showed me the red markings on each side of the ring leading up to his family crest. “It is also a bonding item between a newly awakened Bloodwright and a more experienced one who will act as a mentor.”
“Right, my uncle already explained this.” I nodded. “He said that this typically only happens between Bloodwrights in the same family.”
He nodded, his dark green eyes focused on the ring and my hand tucked into his. “Yes, we are odd in that regard.”
“But why did you give it to me? How did you know it would work?”
“I didn’t.” He looked up. “I couldn’t stand to see you in pain, so I gave it a shot. Turns out it worked.”
“But why do you care? How did you even know Sara-Kate and I were up here yesterday?”
“It was one of my wards that I put in place.” He hesitated before continuing.
“This area in the school is one of the few relatively safe places for me to leave books like this, so I warded the top of the stairs. It sends out certain vibrations to let me know who has crossed the threshold, and I’ve been particularly in tune to your vibrations lately.
And I care about you because it turns out you were meant to be my .
. . apprentice.” He spoke the last word carefully, reverently, but almost as if it were a placeholder for something else.
“Then why did you ignore me before? If you were so ‘in tune’ to me?” I tried not to let the hurt filter through my voice, but Alaric winced in response.
“I was trying to protect you.” He finally admitted.
“Protect me from what?”
“From them. The Stonebound.”
“That word again. What are these Stonebound? My uncle mentioned them but refused to go into any detail.” I was exasperated. “I need answers, not more questions.”
He looked down at the book, turning several pages until he got to a specific page with a handwritten explanation of what the Stonebound were.
The page looked weathered and ancient; the ink smudged in certain places, making it hard to decipher.
Below the lettering was a charcoal drawing of a tall, humanoid creature, except instead of skin, it looked like its bones covered its entire body, looking more like a living statue with bone for armor.
A bone-carved mask with only slits for the eyes and mouth obscured its face.
Its fingers were long and thin, sharp at the ends like talons.
In the background was a gravestone and an empty grave, as if the creature had just climbed out of the earth.
Beneath the image were the words The Warden of the Stonebound etched in elaborate calligraphy.
“What is that?” I asked, my eyes trailing over the ancient words, but remaining stuck on the eerie image. “A zombie?”
“Not exactly. The Stonebound were once Bloodwrights many, many years ago.” Alaric began. “Did your uncle tell you how one becomes awakened?”
I nodded. “Usually when someone you are blood-related to and love dies. The grief can awaken the gene.”
He continued. “That’s right. Bloodwrights have been around for as long as the earth has, their magic being born of grief, causing them to become a vessel between the veil of life and death.
While our abilities as Bloodwrights are magic, most do not wish for this type of fate.
To lose someone and then become a vessel of grief .
. .” He paused, swallowing hard as he glanced down at the ring on my finger. “It’s a burden.”
I nodded, urging him to continue.
“But then there were some who wished to harness this power, these abilities to read death echoes, to be the balance between those still alive and those who have moved on. The Rogue Bloodwrights began to seek out potential Bloodwrights and force them to awaken.”
“And by force, you mean?”
“Slaughter their entire family to ensure an emergence.”
I sat back, shocked, finding it hard to believe that anyone would do such a thing.
“Mostly, these Rogues sought children from specific Bloodwright family lines, killing everyone in order to recruit the child and train them to be their magical warriors.”
“How awful.” I mumbled, my hands going cold at the thought of a small child being forced not only to awaken but to become a soldier too.
“The Ancient Council, a member of each of the major Bloodwright families around the world, came together to create a sort of blood covenant to not only punish the Rogues but to protect future Bloodwrights and their families. The punishment for these Rogue Bloodwrights was worse than death. They were forced to bind their souls to ancient relics, becoming wardens of death and hunters of any who tried to commit rogue and unsanctioned magical practices, like forcing an awakening. They are not fully alive, but not fully dead; their sole purpose is to seek out rogue magic and destroy it.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” I questioned. “It sounds like they were trying to help.”
Alaric smiled sadly. “At first, yeah, it was a good thing. It punished those who were murderers and kept the others in check. But as centuries passed, the leader of the Stonebound, the Warden, one of the former heads of the Ancient Council who had been the one to lead the Rouge Bloodwrights in revolt, was then sentenced to oversee the Stonebound. Over time, he became warped in the mind. Soon, they began punishing any Bloodwrights for any magical disturbances, even from newly awakened Bloodwrights who came into their powers naturally but were struggling to maintain their control. That’s when the mentor comes in to help the apprentice gain a deeper understanding of their abilities and how to control them, while also learning the Blood Covenant. ”
“So, the Stonebound started punishing anyone who started showing signs of emerging as a Bloodwright?” I inquired, the sketch of the Stonebound sitting between us, its presence, though not real, still filling the air with tension.