Chapter 69, Punishment and Forgiveness

Chapter 69, Punishment and Forgiveness

Uh. Did you have to cry in it, or was that just for looks? Sam asked, cautiously leaning over the edge of the table to peer into the bowl of blood of oath. Her reflection peered back up at her with the same amount of curiosity and apprehension, and at noticing this, Sam couldnt help but make a silly face, twisting her eyes to show only their whites and sticking out her tongue.

Any other bodily liquid apart from my blood would have had similar results, Kreig said, omitting the obvious reason why he chose not to.

George shuddered. Understood. Much like his sister, his eyes were glued to the liquid. What now?

As far as Kreig explained it, the next part was really the most simple one, namely to bottle it. Since it had a 100% distillation, age would never degrade it. As a matter of fact, since it had a shelf life of several thousand years at the least, this gave them plenty of time to enhance it through community, as Kreig explained it.

Blood of oath never degraded or grew finer with age. The only way to enhance its flavour and properties was to add a drop of blood from another oracle than the one whose blood was used in the initial creation.

It seemed that in most villages with a proper brewery suitable for making blood of oath, they usually kept a special bottle containing a portion of blood from some oracle or another. This blood was often harvested from an oracle heralding from the village itself or some nearby province, meaning that having multiple kinds of blood was forbidden according to tradition. However, if an oracle was to save the village or otherwise help them, oftentimes a small quantity of blood was drawn in order to enhance the years harvest, alongside making the oldest and most pure blood of oath the village kept even better.

Kreig himself could list a dozen villages or more where his blood had been drawn and added to their finer products. His classmates never saw it as very interesting, more of a chore than anything, but Kreig always felt honoured to partake in ancient history.

Of course, after the fall of the church, all those villages were burnt to the ground, the blood of oath smashed and spilt and drained anywhere where nobody might try it.

A cloud of melancholy washed over Kreig as he remembered the prized treasures of those villages, bottles of blood of oath several hundred years old, opened only to add a single drop of holy blood. A tradition now lost to time, a people now dead, their blood staining the soggy mud of the north.

Sam brought him out of it. So, theoretically I could just add my own blood to this? And make it - what? Better?

More potent, Kreig quietly corrected.

A feral light shone up her eyes. Well, I dont see why not! And before either Kreig or George had time to reply, shed already grabbed a knife, holding it threateningly over her hand.

But as fast as she moved to grab the knife, Kreig moved even faster to stop her.

He shook his head. Not like that. I mean Youve been a commander, right? What happened when you made a strategic failure? Or lost a battle? Or had to forfeit a victory?

Kreig again looked away. ...Depends. The order would Isolation. A few days in a monastery. Away from it all.

George nodded. And the Empire?

Kreigs eyes went dark, a tremble gripping his left hand. It isnt important. What they did.

And for once, the one averting their gaze was not Kreig but George. You were punished. Harshly. And-, and youre still being punished. Kreig couldnt tear his eyes from his brother. Arent you? Maybe not by someone else, maybe not in some cell But youre punishing yourself. Youre even doing it right now.

Kreig let go of his right hand, ignoring how the white mark slowly faded.

Georges gaze softened. Were not faulting you, Kreig. For any of this. Youre forgiven. Whatever youve done, whatever youll do I forgive you. Sam, too. We love you, Kreig. And I trust that youll learn from your mistakes, punishment or no.

Kreig stood there for a moment. Letting it sink it.

It wasnt like with the order, where you could be forgiven if you asked for it, or if you paid for it, or if you did some punishment. Or with the Empire, where any failure was punished with either death, torture or incarceration. Until they needed you again, that is. No, this was less than that. More. Human.

During the rest of the evening, Kreig only operated with half a mind to what he was doing. Sam finally returned with the bottles, having found three empty and one full. With lack of anything better to do, they drank the wine in the full bottle, just to empty it. Kreig did not get drunk since he could not, and the taste itself was - to him - pretty foul. But his siblings seemed happy to indulge, quickly getting tipsy and then drunk.

With his brother and sister too intoxicated to do anything beyond drink, Kreig was left to do the hard work of filling the bottles. It went well, but then Sam insisted on having a taste. George was against it, but once Sam had a taste (whoa, its sweet!), he just had to try it.

Kreig didnt feel like mentioning that it briefly strengthened the powers of an awakened and did so only once Sam had had her fill.

But by that point, his sister had remembered the part about her blood being able to make the blood of oath more potent. Kreig had almost hoped shed forget it, but she certainly hadnt. It was only with extreme trepidation that Kreig let her slash a finger and add a single droplet of blood to each of the four bottles. And the second it was done, Kreig cast his third strongest healing spell on her, instantly mending her finger, removing any poison and alcohol from her blood and healing the tissue shrunk by years of psychedelic use.

She was mostly just upset about losing her tipsiness though.