Chapter 7: The Woe Is Not a Descendant.
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~~~ [START]
THUD!
The door shut behind him as he entered.
It was an office, and Grandma Frump was seated on a chair.
She smiled toward him, arms raised to the table and palms supporting her head.
Ash moved to her figure, taking a seat in the chair opposite her.
She was silent, eyes directly locked on him.
"Blood is thicker than water," he said, causing a spark of recognition to brighten her eyes.
"You remembered?" she asked, smiling, causing him to reply with a nod.
She leaned backward, making her chair move slightly.
"I'd known your parents since I was a child," she said, not wasting any time. "They saved me from a lot of things, a lot of debts, deaths, and…"
Ash just stared at her, his face not reacting in the slightest.
"People misunderstood the true nature of immortals," she changed the topic. "Their relevant understanding is that Immortals were so untrusting of any other outcast that they made a tradition to interbreed with their own kind to prevent those measures."
Ash raised a brow, still confused by what she was implying.
"The tradition," she said, cutting all words short, "All Immortals should have two children before death; those children should interbreed with one another to prevent greed and untrusting misfortune upon themselves; only, and only, when they had given birth to two or more children with separate genders, only then could they end their all-so miserable life."
Ash still just stared, and although he still lacked much-needed knowledge, his once-raised brows had finally fallen; an indication that he was analysing everything.
"Outcasts and everyone else, including outside races, were forced to believe that this very tradition had been happening for hundreds of thousands of years…" She hesitated, "But…"
She stared at him, sighed, and for the first time since he had known her, an expression of pure seriousness took hold.
"Nothing like that had ever happened," she said. "The only immortals who had ever existed for all those hundreds of thousands of years… the only two Immortals to ever exist, were your parents." She paused, taking note of his unreactive expression. "Which only means…"
"They are the ones who made the religion." Ash interrupted, completing the sentence in its entirety.
"Oh, look at that," she said, giggling. But once again, her expression turned cold. "Sadly…" she continued, sighing with her words, "I am not the only person who knows about this. Although 'normal' Outcast society thinks that the immortals were a race with only one branch of many generations, only a few of us know that those so-called generations never actually existed."
She turned to Ash, tilting her head slightly to the side.
"Which means the only generation after the first generation of Immortals is you," she said, noting the flicker of recognition that sparked in his eyes. "And they are coming for you, the Outcast council of leaders; they greed for your blood. They had lived in youth from your parents' blood for so long that it made them believe that they deserved it; it made them feel like they owned it, as if it was their right." She finally stood up, then made her way to a cabinet, grabbed a glass of whisky from the counter, moved to the table, and poured two glasses.
Ash, not waiting to be offered, quickly grabbed the glass, then chugged its liquor like it was water.
The bitter taste worked its way into his expression, and he shook his head to keep it out.
Grandma Frump took a sip, acknowledging the flavour that came with it.
"The blood of immortals has its own secrets," she continued, placing the cut on the table. "They can't simply force their way and suck it out of your body." She leaned back, smiling. "When Immortal blood is given willingly, it becomes a fountain of youth," she said, still surprised that he hadn't asked too much. "But when it is forcefully withdrawn, with the intention to gain, it becomes poison." She rested on her seat. "And they know that."
She stared at him, half expecting a reaction. He didn't give one.
"They will capture you, torture you, and wait until you give it willingly," she smiled when she said it. "That's one of the reasons your father took you to that place."
And she noticed how his brows frowned ever so slightly.
"He told me to wait until you turned twenty; he thought leaving you in there would offer you the best amount of resistance," she said, shaking her head. "His intentions were correct, but his methods…"
Ash's head looked down, still processing her sentence.
"But what he failed to realise, even with his dozen years of life," pain escaped her lips, "you were still nothing but a child; it wasn't your responsibility to begin with; it was his…" Then Ash's head rose to meet hers.
"Now, it is mine," she said, standing up, fixing her posture. "That is why I have a proposal, child."
Ash raised his brows, clearly confused by the spectacle.
"Get engaged to my granddaughter," she said, smiling overwhelmingly even in the darkened house. "Become my blood."
~~~ [END]
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Join my PT for extra Chapters ~ p*tr-eon name is DUSK_IS_MEE
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