Ascension of Blood

CHAPTER FOUR Port To Port

"Well, if it is ineffable perhaps we should stop discussing it."

"What a horrible idea." Favian said, and smiled. "I fear a world in which we do not seek answers. What ignorant shells we would become."

Her father shot Favian a look with a slight squint of his eyes. "To not be bothered by questions that do not effect my life?" he scoffed. "That sounds peaceful."

"That sounds like ignorance."

"That sounds like half of the population out there. Why don't you go ramble on to some of them, eh? I'm sure there are some nuns in a brothel somewhere in Crowcross that would find your moons fascinating."

"Isn't that what were doing here?"

"Brothels?"

"Looking for answers." Favian sighed. "Douterra, the Princess, the plans. Everything we are doing this very second is to find answers."

Dracon was silent for a heartbeat. Then he said, in a voice that was dangerously low. "I do what I do because I like it, and because the DaVals pay me." He leaned forwards resting his elbows on his knees, his face empty of any emotion, real or fabricated. "I don't care about finding answers, I don't care about the Princess or the Academy. I'm an assassin, not a scholar."

"And it shows every time you open your mouth." Favian said.

Dracon grunted, his eyes flicked to Mijora almost in a silent challenge. One that said, I dare you to speak up. I dare you to say anything here. Mijora looked away, swallowing thickly.

"We're almost here." He father said, leaning back into the seat.

"Ah, yes. I suppose we better tell our young Acolyte what to expect." Favian said, offering her a smile.

"Agreed." Her father said heaving a sighed.

"This is the furthest me and Dracon shall be going," Said Favian, and though she loathed to be close to her father, the thoughts of being sent into the unknown without him, or anyone else for guidance, was terrifying. "Douterras tradition has been going for decades and we shall not be the ones to break that. From here at Crowcross you shall get a ship to Westwich alone. You'll have a ticket, dont lose it. The ship takes two days, and from Westwich you will need to navigate through the mountains to get to Douterra itself, where there will be a welcoming ceremony that lasts until sunset on the day of the Bloodmoon. If you don't get there in time they you will not be allowed into the Academy. Don't get there in time, and this whole plan is doomed."

"So don't mess it up." Her father said, eyes unblinking.

"Great. Brilliant. Fantastic." Mijora said, swallowing hard. "What about my things?" she asked, referring to her belongings and clothing that had been supplied by the Crown.

"That will be sent on a different ship with one of our DaVal soldiers to make sure it arrives." Favian explained. "You will travel with a single satchel if required."

"Can't I just go with my things?" Mijora asked. "Theyre heading to the Academy too."

"What part of tradition don't you understand?" her father muttered.

The part where I might get lost and fail the task, she thought shooting a look outside the window.

Before she could formulate a response that at least sounded confident, the carriage slowed to a stop and Favian clapped his hands together. "Right then. Shall we?"

~~~*~~~

Mijora was kicked out of the carriage with a satchel and one passenger ticket, and left in the center of the city near the red bricked clock tower. This was, Mijora decided, an unreasonably pleasant event, and didn't care about the juxtaposition that it posed.