Page 81 of Shadow Kissed
“When you say you are hoping to be selected, what do you mean?”
He perches on the front of his desk and rolls his sleeves up to reveal tanned and muscular arms. “Well, as you know, Shadow Kissed are only gifted to us every twenty-five years and luckily your numbers have increased to twenty-five this reaping. There are many more single men in my realm than twenty-five, so we have to apply to be at the reaping. If they don’t select us, then we won’t get to take an Asen wife.”
Saveya raises her hand, concern marring her features. “But, Master Aven, if you aren’t selected does that mean you will be unable to have children?”
“But there will be half-breeds, won’t there?” I say. “The second and third generation children from the previous reaping’s?”
He nods his head. “There are four generations now from that first reaping. There are five hundred and fifty Shadasens in our realm. As you know, each cycle the Shadow Kissed numbers have increased and so have our breeding numbers. As I said, this reaping there are twenty-five of you, and we are hopeful your generation will increase our numbers significantly.”
I snicker to myself, so in other words, they are expecting us to pop out as many babies as possible.
“Do the Shadasens have shadow magic like you?” Tyria asks him and we all wait eagerly for his response.
He nods his head and, standing to his feet, he walks down the row of desks as he answers. “They do. They aren’t as strong, but they can weave shadows and do all the things we can, just on a smaller scale.”
Saveya raises her hand again. “How long ago was the last full-blooded shadow child born then?”
He walks over to the board and picks up his scribe and we watch as he writes on the board the numbers 1170.
“Thirty-five years ago. So, you can see how important you are to our survival. Without you, we would be a dying realm.Just as you would be through starvation and mutt attacks, had we not arrived in your realm and offered our protection and our resources.”
“Seems like they had a lot more to gain than we did,” I mutter under my breath to Saveya, and Master Aven’s eyes snap to me.
“You don’t agree our agreement offers mutual benefits, Miss Lockwood?”
I turn crimson, sensing all eyes on me as he awaits my response. I really need to learn to keep my thoughts to myself!
“I think we got the poor end of the deal. Yes, our crops are prospering, but we are prisoners in our own towns at night. Many of our men die fighting your war.”
Master Aven nods his head, mulling over my comments. “They do, but I’m intrigued you refer to it as our war. You think the Flame Borne would leave you alone if we weren’t here? They know your planet offers us a valuable abundance of onyx. They wouldn’t think twice about killing your people or destroying your realm to stop us from accessing your resources.”
I become uneasy under his scrutiny, shrugging my shoulders and picking at my fingernails. “There’s a chance we could have got a better deal with the Flame Borne. After all, they don’t appear to be having breeding problems.”
His eyes narrow in on me. “If you believe that, Miss Lockwood, then you are misinformed, but then you are young and naïve and have known nothing but the safety of your small district,” he says, his eyes narrowing in on me.
“I’ve known suffering,” I snap back, my anger rearing its head. “I lost my father as a child thanks to a mining disaster mining your precious onyx. I lost my mother just over a month ago because of the protection your kind offers failed my town. Then I had to leave my orphaned brothers behind to come here and offer my womb up to your people. I know loss and pain.”
The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Master Aven nods his head, and his face turns sombre. “I apologise, Miss Lockwood, for your losses. My people have suffered hundreds of years of war and conflict. We have all made sacrifices in order to survive.”
Across the room, a hand goes up in the air and he nods for them to speak, effectively ending our conversation. My blood boils that they think they have the monopoly on sacrifice and suffering.
“Don’t Shadow Borne age at a slower rate than we do and live longer? How does that work with an Asen wife?”
“Good question,” he replies, pointing a finger at her. “We live to around two hundred years of age, compared to your one hundred years. Once a Shadow Borne reaches twenty-five, the ageing process slows down. Our middle-age is the equivalent of your mortality age.
Two girls from East dorm exchange disgusted looks. “So, we’re marrying men old enough to be our fathers?”
Master Aven smiles and shakes his head. “Not necessarily. Most shadow men at the reaping will be in their mid-twenties to early thirties.”
Shalia’s hand shoots up. “How old is the Lord Commander?”
Giggles and murmurs fill the room, and Master Aven smirks. “It appears our commander is a popular prize amongst you ladies. The lord commander was born in 1168.”
“Like a fine wine,” a girl from the east district says with a cheeky smile to her friend next to her, and they break into a chorus of giggles.
“But if your kind age slower, doesn’t that mean when they’re in their fifties their Asen wives will be old and wrinkled?” asks the same girl.
Master Aven clears his throat and looks a tad uncomfortable as he speaks. “When our kind mate with yours, our, er, essenceis enthused with shadow magic that slows down your own ageing process.”