We fly with the moonlight guiding our way, the street lamps has long disappeared as we go further and further away from Blytonbury, betraying us of any dependable light. The wind suddenly picks up, forcing me to cover my eyes as the fallen leaves from the forest below flies past us.
"it's quite dark". I begin, patting off a leave that has attached to my clothes. "I think you should light a little lighting spell".
Uninterestedly, Sucy asks my reason to say so.
"why?".
"well, it just feels safer that way".
She seems indifferent to my worries, dismissing my request immediately.
"we're flying, what are we going to hit?".
"well, even airplanes have those little blinking lights around them". I point out.
"we're not airplanes", Sucy retorts. I figured she won't be swayed by any persuasion.
I pull the collar of my shirt up as the cold night wind becomes unbearable. My fingers go unsteady against the cold, and I feel my body shivering. In contrast, Sucy shows no sign of being bothered by the cold.
Thankfully, I won't have to survive the cold any longer as a familiar building appears in the distance.
The tall rooftops of Luna Nova was the first to appear on the horizon, though even from the distance I can see that the usual lights that shines from the many windows of the building are all turned off, almost leaving Luna Nova in complete darkness if it wasn't for the emergency lights scattered across the building.
Remembering what I was informed earlier, I suppose this is due to the Sorcerer's Stone maintenance. I was wrong to guess that they would've finished repairing the damages by the time return.
I notice flood lights spreading out across the school yards, most of which gathers around the base of the tower that holds the Sorcerer's Stone. Occasional figures, which I figure are workers, comes across the floodlights from time to time, casting shadows over the white illuminated walls of the building.
"well this isn't something you see every day", I remark.
Indeed, when I returned from the tower this place wasn't as busy as it is now. Goblins, Sprites, Minotaur and many kinds of other workers stride across the field, busily heading to their own different destinations while carrying tools and materials needed for the fixing. Each of them seems to know where they're going and what they're doing, none pausing in hesitation. Just standing in the middle of all this is enough to give me a sense of how hectic their work is, but despite all this, the workers carry on their duties diligently and with admirable coordination.
In the middle of the field, the workers has set up a temporary work station. A large tent, enough to house a thousand gnomes, or if converted, about a hundred humans, has been erected in the middle of the field. Workers comes and goes from inside, bringing in what seems to be empty containers while walking out with containers filled to the brim with various construction materials and tools.
Shifting my gaze up, I notice how dark the top of the tower is. The usual green glow radiated by the Sorcerer's Stone is absent, as expected.
—
We enter the building. The busy and lively atmosphere quickly drowned as I close the door behind us, sealing off the sounds of the outside workers. We continue through the now quiet corridors of the school, sparsely lit by a few candles.
Our goodbyes are underwhelming and one-sided—something I expected would happen with Sucy. The way she made the most underwhelming goodbye was disappointing for me, but I ask myself why I even bothered.
Of course I didn't expect much, it's Sucy after all. But that doesn't make me feel a bit ignored, after what spending time with her tonight I admittedly expected something more, at least a simple goodbye would've sufficed.
I don't have time to be disappointed. I have an agenda I've been meaning to fulfil lately, and in this special night—with the powers out and there's much less people around—it's a perfect time to do just that.
Alone in the lightless corridor, I slip away into my room.
I dislike the idea of keeping the stone, something so unknown and ominous.
I'm scared of this stone. It's as simple as that. To this day I ask myself what sort of spell Mr Wright casted on me that made me agree to his request of keeping the stone.
This stone is unknown to me other than that it's fearsome, used long ago as a weapon for blood magic before it passes on to obscurity. But perhaps, this is the reason for my fears: I've little knowledge of the stone.
Fear of the unknown is very strong after all, and recently I figured if I could understand the stone more, that'll help lessen my fear, perhaps even turn it fully around.
Resting atop my desk is a collection of books I've borrowed from the local library. They're either specifically about blood magic or have a few passages and chapters about them. One of them, of course, is the one I showed Diana not too long ago.
Ever since I started my inquisitive quest on Diana I've never stopped. Reading through these books are hard, but they're not as hard as finding them. Books that talk about black magic are quite scarce in this school. I have a good guess why.
The collection of books I found is few but they're invaluable. The most unique of them all is a book I found in the white magic section of the library—hardly a place I'd expect to have such a dark and menacing art such as blood magic. It's a white covered book, thick, titled 'White Blood Magic'.
I've done more reading lately. I managed to found a curious passage regarding blood catalyst. It was brief, but it has one interesting fact: blood catalysts could absorb life essences; any person's blood that is consumed by a blood catalyst, be it the wielder or an unlucky victim's, could leave an 'imprint' on the item. The greater amount of blood used, the stronger the imprint.
After making sure the door is locked and all windows shut, I prepare a candle and begin reading. I start with the only book I haven't touched so far, the white covered one.
Now this book, it gives off a better first impression, more welcoming, than its siblings. The words 'White Blood Magic' are written in gold over the white, paperback cover. The aged papers brush against my fingertips, I note how dry and rough it's surface is. It's colour is an old faded yellow, kinds to expect in every aged books. The familiar smell of aged paper immediately hits me as I flip through the pages.
It's upon this book I found the most interesting insight about the ominous blood magic.
'Blood magic, one of the oldest forms of magic. However terrifying it is, it has remarkable properties. It's destructive capabilities are unquestionable, as you may have known, but what people often forget is it's remarkable healing potential. The act of healing ailments and diseases by blood are known by many names and carried out with diverse methods throughout the ages; blood healing, white blood magic, Luwythian medicine, and it's most well known method and name: blood ministration. Blood ministration is the process of curing disease and ailments through blood transfusion and blood letting. Blood transfusion is generally the process of receiving blood or blood products, created and tempered with blood magic, into one's circulation intravenously. Blood products ranges from blood gems to composite blood residues, their kinds are so many and diverse that explaining it would require a second book fully dedicated to it to do it justice. What's important to know about blood products however, are it's usage and origin. Created from the twisting of the very essence of life, blood products are products of blood manipulated by magic, be it dark or light magic'.
'Unfortunately, the practice of blood ministration and blood healing in general has greatly diminished through the ages, particularly during the witch hunt. During that time, all kinds of magical practice are condemned and it's practitioners are hunted, but compared to others, the practitioners of blood magic are hunted most fervently, even setting the birth of a special order dedicated solely to the purging of blood magic, such as the Executioners of Candlekeep. Gaining momentum and support from the hatred of the people, they hunt down every known practitioner of blood magic, be it proper wicked or innocent witches, even non-magical practitioners of simple healings are often mistaken for witches and are not spared from the Executioners' judgement. For more details on this topic, read "Executioners and Hunters", by Djura E. Gallon'.
The next chapters discusses the other previously mentioned white blood magic practices. The book claims numerous times that the practice and ways of blood ministration has been lost. With the last known practice of it being around the Victorian era, most famously in the city of Lengwyth, before a strain of blood product widely used at that time somehow 'brought chaos and mass hysteria to the populace due to unknown and unforeseen side-effects', ultimately tarnishing blood ministration and, in extend, blood magic's reputation. The practice and teachings of white blood magic and blood magic in general has, since then, rapidly decayed through time.
Our modern understanding information about blood healing and blood products are mainly acquired from salvaged medical texts and procedures that survived the test of time, or the test of fire (many magical institutions later viewed the work of any blood magic to be heretical and profaned, thus the burning).
'unlike the usual white magic, the practice of white blood magic requires much less magic in the process. Instead of magic, time and blood are it's highest price. It takes a long to create the required blood products, depending on it's aimed properties, blood products can range from days up to 12 months in the process of creation. During those time, the practitioner would treat the blood carefully, combining different bloods, creating residues, crystalizing and de-crystalizing the blood, and manipulating it's properties slowly with magic. It's a time consuming and arduous process, but it requires much less magic compared to white magic, in exchange of time'.
That's a lengthy read. But I must say it was a pleasantly surprising one. Who knew there's a possible alternative to traditional white magic. If I'm not mistaken, white magic, and healing magic in general are one of the hardest types of magic to master. It requires years of learning and practice to perfect the art of white magic, and not any wizard nor witch can just learn white magic. To practice such kind of magic requires an ample magical strength and a good understanding of the flow of magic within the human body. If what's written here is true, then there exists an alternative to traditional white magic, a method that requires less magic and thus more accessible to more wizards.
Even if it takes greater expertise to create these so called blood products, the fact still remains that magic is dwindling, and an alternative which requires less magic would be incredibly valued.
Flipping through the pages, I search for any sort of hint of how one could practice blood healing.
It's not lost to me how ironic I'm being. I started reading these books feeling burdened or disgusted at what I found and now I'm craving for more than I anticipated. I even feel disappointment when I find the passages ending yet found nothing mentioning of the steps and ways of any of the mentioned white blood magic.
I suppose, even if the knowledge does exist today, I won't be able to find it in the library's common section.
However, no matter how interesting what I've found tonight is, I found no information about the stone at all. But, I suppose, any knowledge of what it can do, that being blood magic, could still be helpful for me.
I pull out the stone from my drawer and hold it next to the candle. The warm orange glow reflects dully on the white surface, highlighting it's smooth and polished surface.
I can't help but imagine the power this stone used to have. What if it was capable of white blood magic? The book mentioned the process for creating blood products involves many items, could this stone took part in the creation of blood products in the past while it's still powerful?
I'm admittedly not that interested with this stone's destructive capabilities. Aside from it being potentially harmful to not just the victim, I fear such practice might harm myself. What piqued my interest is white blood magic, mainly it's mention of it using less magic than it's traditional counterpart.
You can bet if something that could achieve the same level of healing as traditional white magic while requiring less use of magic exists and it's approved by the wizarding world, I'd spend my life just studying it. Because even with training, learning how to effectively cast the greatest of spells with the least amount of magic, that only takes me so far.
I can learn from a thousand books a thousand spells but I'll probably be able to use less than half of them. In the end, the fact remains that to be a great wizard, one needs a powerful natural attunement to magic, something I sorely lack and can't change even with a lifetime of training.
Some wizards are just born more suited to wield magic than the others. It's as simple as that.
I shake my head and run a hand through my face.
I shouldn't think like that. Not again.
In any case, I think the chances of blood magic actually being acceptable by today's standards are slim. As far as I'm concerned, any form of blood magic falls under the category of dark magic.
It's true they practice it many years ago as the books stated, but our standard of what's 'good' and 'bad' magic have changed over years, most dramatically during the witch hunt era.
In fact, some schools of magic fail to resurface after the witch hunt in fear of its possibility to provoke uneasiness among the masses once again. Those schools of magic are ones that are feared greatly by normal people back during the witch hunt, which includes, but not limited to, dark arts.
What's good and what's bad according to the witch community hardly changes. They're tradition, after all, and we know how stubborn witches are with their traditions.
I often feel disconnected from witch traditions. Perhaps it's due to my upbringing as a normal child.
I lean back towards the wall, gazing up towards the ceiling. With the lights completely out and the lanterns put out, my room has become much darker than before. The ceiling in particular, has become an unending black void.
To think there's all kinds of magic out there, undiscovered or buried and left in the dark just because the practice terrifies people. Ahh… gives me conniptions.
A loud knock pulls me out of my thoughts, I feel my heart skip a beat even.
"What is it?!". I shout, not realizing how impatient I sound.
"it's just the three of us chill". a familiar voice calls back from outside.
Upon hearing the voice, I pause briefly, puzzling over what I should do. Quickly returning the stone to it's container and lock it, I put it safely inside the drawer and put stacks of books and papers on top of it to cover it. I push the drawer back forcefully, the encumbered drawer shifts uncomfortably against the wood.
Walking towards the door, I make sure to fix my hair and clothes to make myself more presentable. I unlock the door and open it, keeping it narrowly open just as a precaution. In front of me, are three familiar faces.
"hello!". Amanda beams, too happy for a time like this.
I wait for further explanation for their intrusion, but none came.
I say, "What do you want?"
"make some room in there so we can place these".
Amanda steps aside, revealing Jasminka who's pushing a trolley filled with briefcases, atop of it is Stanbot, a bright lantern sitting beside it, and beside them is Constanze.
Realizing their intention, I groan inwardly. I look behind me first, keeping the door narrowly open to cover their view. I make sure there's nothing too out of place, eyeing the drawer where I hid the stone just in case something happened in that brief moment of taking my eyes off of it.
While I hate to do it, I have to delay my research. Seeing Amanda's stupid grin, I know she's her mind set and won't take no for an answer.
Turning to face the three, I try to sound as welcoming as I can be.
"Get in before I change my mind".
Leaving the door open, I quickly scuttle back inside and push the items piling up on the table. Books, notes, pens and paper are shoved into the floor as I try to quickly make place for the visitors and the object they're carrying.
While I'm busy making some room, the girls took liberty and enters my room.
"thanks for letting us in!". Amanda announces as she enters my room, followed by her two friends and a robot.
The girls stops and looks around my room, studying the details of my room as if they've stumbled upon an ancient cavern of wonders or a haunted house. In all honesty though, with the lantern's lights barely reaching the corners of the room and the ceiling, my room does look like a haunted house.
While Amanda wanders around my room, I look towards Jasminka and the trolley full of briefcases she's pushing. The trolley has stopped near the middle of my room, and now with the help of Stanbot and Constanze, Jasminka begins to take the briefcases off the trolley and place them on the carpet.
"A boy's room", Amanda whistles. "Wonder what sort of things we'll find here…"
I didn't look into her face, nor did I really hear her tone, but something about the way she says it makes my cheeks warm—I try my best to supress it.
Facing her, I growl, "You'll not find anything inappropriate here, Amanda".
This reaction certainly pleases Amanda. She looks at me with a sly grin. "Ohoh, is that a challenge I hear?"
I'm speechless at that. My mouth hangs open while Amanda's grin only grows wider.
Without warning, Amanda proceeds to go around my room, quickly checking any corner and crevice for any 'inappropriate things'.
While frustrated at her behaviour, I can still tolerate it, mainly because, truthfully, there is nothing inappropriate here.
That is, if you count out the stack of books relating to blood magic sitting right at my desk. Just like it was with Diana, I would rather not have people misunderstanding my intentions with them.
I move towards them and gather them all up, intending to move them to a more secure location. Suddenly, a snicker erupts from behind me, cutting my actions.
Behind me is Amanda, looking at me with the most shit eating grin ever.
I raise my brows, not to understand yet what's going on behind that grin.
Until, Amanda says, "Whatcha got there?"
I switch my gaze from her to my books then back to her again.
"I borrowed them from the library, just some old books".
Amanda comes closer towards me. "Oh, just some old books?"
I stare at her blankly, until it hits me.
It took me a minute, a full minute, until I finally understand what she's implying. Promptly, my cheeks start to feel warm again.
This, this is the very definition of a misunderstanding.
I feel my mouth hang open but no words come. Amanda takes this opportunity to continue. "Nothing inappropriate, I imagine?"
Well it is inappropriate but not in that way!
"These are library books, O'Neill", I remark curtly—a miserable attempt to fend off Amanda's attack—and hold the book further away from the girl. "You won't find anything weird among them".
"Then why are you holding onto it so tightly?"
I scowl at her. I really have no answer and I know this spells defeat if it persists.
"I assure you, this are regular books. Curricular books for classes. So keep your sticky paws off".
"If it's nothing inappropriate, then let me see them".
As Amanda reaches for the books, I instinctively move away from her. This only serves to increase Amanda's suspicion.
She tries again, and again, and again. Every time she tries to reach for the books, I move away or swipe her hands off.
At this point, our little scene has stirred the attention of both Constanze and Jasminka. They both watch our every little fight intently, Jasminka literally having popcorn as she watches.
Amanda's grin begins to falter as our struggle shows no conclusive end.
I'd thought she'd given up, but then, a smile reappears.
Amanda's face lights up, her eyes widen in surprise as her gaze shifts to something behind me.
Pointing behind me, she cries, "Oh my god! A shooting star with two tails!"
My eyes immediately widen. I look behind me and cry, "truly?! Twin Tailed comets are a rarity!"
And before I got wiser, Amanda tackles me to the ground and forcefully wrests the books from my hands.
I was still on the floor while Amanda is already permitting herself to skim around my books. However, her victorious grin slowly turns upside down as she goes further into the books.
"Aw maaan, you're telling the truth".
I say nothing to her. Still on the floor, I only grumble to myself in defeat, cursing myself how easily I fell for the oldest trick in the book.
Amanda pauses her page flipping, her eyes shows confusion and her lips part. "Eh… what sort of book is this anyway?"
This attracts the attention of her two friends. Like nightmare born to reality, they scurry towards her and take a look.
There's no running away from it now, I guess.
To my surprise, Jasminka's face lights up in recognition. "Oh! This is like those spell books of old Baba Yaga back in Russia".
Amanda looks to her with wide eyes. "Baba Yaga, Baba Yaga?" She asks in confirmation
Jasminka nods. "Big bad witch. She uses lots of bad magic!"
On the floor, I frown.
'Bad magic', yeah right, there's no such thing as that!
"Yikes!" Amanda exclaims, closing the book shut. Amanda shifts her gaze at me, a worried look on her face, very rare. "Why'd you read stuff like this?"
I stir on the floor and now face upwards. It's rather comical; I look like a snake.
"Class curriculum", I answer flatly.
The three girls don't buy it, but its only Amanda who shows it outside as she narrows her eyes at me. "Riiiight"
"Look, is it wrong to like to read about all kinds of magic on my spare time, even 'bad' ones?"
Supreme tactic engaged: shift the spotlight on someone else!
"I mean, look at Consey here. Literally everything she does is an offense to the rules of this school and you think I'm not okay for doing this?"
Constanze's eyes widen in realization. She nods fervently, agreeing with me wholly.
It looks like I've accidentally gained an ally to the cause?
"We're all troublemakers, then", Jasminka concludes. I'm glad she's sort of on my side here too.
Amanda still seems unease but agrees anyway. "Yeah, but one of us is edgier than the others, though".
I scowl at her. My cheeks puffed, but I say nothing.
While I show irritation outside, I'm actually glad inside. I don't get some overreaction from them. I guess I was being too paranoid.
I stand up and take my books from Amanda's hands, she doesn't resist. I say, "Now that that's over, are we going to have a movie night sequel or what?"
"no! don't kill me noo!". the girl screams before the alien shoots a beam that turns her into a frog.
What a weird movie, I thought to myself as I take a sip of a warm glass of choco.
Glancing around, I find Amanda and Constanze close to the screen, fully immersed in the movie, both not taking their eyes from the screen as they grab a handful of popcorns from one shared bucket. Jasminka sits not far behind them with her own snack.
Meanwhile, I stay quite far back, leaning myself on the wall.
A movement from the group catches my attention, and soon I spot Jasminka standing up and approaching me. She sits in front of me, hand extended as she offers me her snack.
"what's this?" I ask.
"Belladrake chocolates, it's good".
Curious of the name, I reach and take a piece of the oddly named snack. Quickly after eating it, I taste the sweet sugary chocolate with a complementing taste of sour I often find in grapes.
I'm quite surprised with this one, now that I think about it, this must be what Witches have for snacks. It's entirely different from what I would normally have.
"it's good, grapey". I manage to say in between chews.
Jasminka smiles seeing my approval. Offering more, she reaches and offers a handful for me.
"here, have some more".
I place my mug down and cup my hands together to take the chocolates.
"that's a lot, I might feel bad". I remark.
"don't be, I bought it for us to share".
She smiles an infectious smile, one that I can't resist to return. It's a small act that pulls me back to the atmosphere around me. I realize shouldn't think too much, my friends are here and I should enjoy the moment instead of creeping at the back of the room and overthinking things.
I let the thought of Jasminka being the one who prepares snacks for the four of us amuse me. I can imagine her walking down the supermarket isle with a list on her hand, buying snacks like groceries.
It almost feels like the three of them plans these kinds of things. I feel somewhat elated knowing they planned and chose to spend time with me.
I let my mind wander about how they plan things like this. Jasminka handling the snacks, Constanze providing the movie projector, and perhaps Amanda as the… party leader? I don't know what role she might contribute to the team, other than as the main conversation starter and their representative. Yet even though I slightly hate to admit it, this small party wouldn't be complete without Amanda. She sounds like a party leader to me.
I look ahead, towards the film and the two girls captivated by it.
They're a fun bunch, always a bundle of fun bundled together with a green ribbon. I have to say, compared to the rest of the students in this school, and even people in general, these three manages to impress me more than all of them could, for better or for worse. I mean, who would've even thought or dared to have a secret movie night with a forbidden technology in a magic school famous for their strict rules of said kinds of technologies?
I'm honestly glad they see that I'm a trustworthy enough person that I'm allowed to partake in their daily forbidden activities. Even though the price for hanging out with them is sometimes my dignity, I have to say they know how to have fun.
But the good thoughts also bring bad ones: I'm reminded soon the worry I've been having lately about what these three really feels about the race.
Looking around, I realize it's just me and Jasminka back here. The two girls, and the robot, are well in front and out of earshot.
"what's wrong?". Jasminka suddenly asks, picking up on my quick change of expression.
"hm? ah it's nothing". I smile to her reassuringly.
But Jasminka doesn't seem to believe me, she surprisingly presses on the matter further.
"you look troubled, is everything alright?".
I'm surprised, honestly. I didn't expect her to care that far.
"I… am? Do I look troubled?".
"mhm" she nods. "you've been quiet".
"am I not normally quiet?". I force a chuckle, hoping it'll slightly ease her worries.
But something tells me it won't, she seems genuinely worried.
I'm not going to tell her about what I've been doing and the thoughts that equally troubles and excites me right now, but now a new idea crosses my mind. Since I've captured her concern, I might as well take the opportunity and ask her just another matter that's been troubling me lately.
"you're not going to leave me until I tell you are you?".
Jasminka smiles and shakes her head.
"alright alright you win". I sigh to myself. "have a sit you're in for a paragraph".
With her permission granted, Jasminka gladly takes a seat beside me.
"Right, I'm going to be as frank as I can, so this thing's been bothering me for the longest time now, I tried to not think about it but seeing that— okay, okay get straight to the point".
Drawing a deep breath, I try and remind myself of the question that I've been dying to get the answer these past few days.
"what did you think of the race?". I ask.
I notice the brief pause from her, followed by light shuffling.
"the race? Well this is sudden".
"well I'm just curious". I tell her. "the curiosity is truly killing me".
I let out a small chuckle, just to make her feel my question is nothing to be answered too seriously.
I wait for her answer which takes an eternity of silence to come. The silence lasts longer than I expected that I'm beginning to worry if I've reminded her of something she'd rather not be reminded of. Maybe I'm too quick to bring this up? Was I too blunt?
Just before I pull my question back, Jasminka finally speaks up. However, it seems her cause of silence isn't what I think it was.
"you're… wondering if the three of us are upset because of the race?".
Apparently, she sees right through me.
"w-well… yeah, I guess I am".
Jasminka takes a good moment to think, looking ahead, she gazes towards her two friends. The wait takes seconds yet it felt like ages, I was starting to think that her answer won't ever come, but soon she breaks her silence.
"Constanze and I, the two of us didn't care much of the race at the beginning, it was Amanda who did, so in the end we care for it too". Jasminka starts.
"and then, the two of us were pretty sad about the race, but it was Amanda who wasn't, so in the end we followed what she felt again".
She pauses for a moment as she turns to look at me.
"she's not upset, so we're not upset".
She stops, letting her words sink for me.
I'm reminded of the day of the race, reminded of how happy and enthusiastic Amanda were that day, and how she quickly dismisses her own interests when she sees her friend feeling guilty of her loss. Even when Jasminka messed up the race for them, she didn't care. She didn't want her friend to feel terrible.
She easily forgets something that's dear to her just to comfort her friend.
"so, why ask me?". Jasminka asks, pulling me out of my own thoughts.
"what?".
"why ask me? Why not just ask the two of them?".
I can't just walk up to the two of them and ask what they think of the race, can I?
As if reading my mind, Jasminka says before I could continue, "they don't know you're the one who threw the baton away you know? So you're safe".
I'm quickly reminded of the accident between me and the piece of bagel and what that memory entails
"I…. yes yes I'll give you that, I apologize".
Hearing my heartfelt apology, Jasminka smiles warmly. "apology accepted". She says, and turns to look towards the film. "none of them knows about your mistake, but I can't imagine the two of them being angry at you even if they do".
I follow her gaze, looking ahead towards the film and the two girls who are immersed in it.
"yeah? What makes you say that".
"I just know", she says with a soft smile.
Jasminka pauses briefly, her gaze still locked ahead. She then asks, "you're worried aren't you?".
"Worried? Oh I wouldn't call it worried. But, as much as she sometimes annoys the living hell out of me, she's still a friend, and so deserves my worries. I think".
Jasminka lets a light chuckle escape before turning to me and continuing.
"you should try to be honest". She smiles. "it'll make things way easier".
With that, she says nothing else, stands up, and returns to her friends, leaving me back here alone with my own thoughts to think about.
Try to be honest, I repeat to myself.
I can't say that's a bad idea, If want to know how they honestly feel about the race, I should start with myself and be honest with all three of them.
I'm glad Jasminka isn't so down hearted with all this, I've had fears that she still feels guilt for taking part in the cause of the disqualification, but I'm very glad to see she's moved on well past that. I'm happy to see she's open and honest about her thoughts and feelings, and she's even supportive of me to do the same.
I suppose she really wants me to be honest and just talk openly with them all, not something I'd try or even think of doing myself. But, seeing that it's what Jasminka seems to want, or wish me to do, I find it hard not to try.
In fact it's natural for me to feel terrible when a supportive person offers their help or suggestion and I ignore it, it's often the main driving force for me to do the right thing to be honest. Not from my own good will, not from my own good conscious, but because I feel bad when other people offers their help and I ignore them.
I'm such a nice person, I thought to myself as I chew the Belldrake chocolates, followed by a gulp of warm choco, mixing the sweet warm flavour of the choco with the strong, chewy and sour flavour of the grapey Belldrake chocolate.
It's not a bad night.
Adjusting my seat, I suddenly feel a nudge on my elbow and before I knew it I've accidentally nudged the stack of books beside me. Dropping with a low thud, the third book, a brown, leathered book that I've yet to open now lies on the floor, it's yellowed pages flaps open due to the fall.
I quietly pull the fallen book closer, but as I do, I can't help but catch a glimpse of a sentence written on it's aged paper.
'Blood Fuel Spirit'.