Book 2: Chapter 9 – A Few Hundred Years

"Let's start with your first question, shall we?" Aziz said, his tone unusually patient.

"Bloodline abilities are exactly what they sound like – abilities granted to us through our bloodlines. Most of the time, they're hereditary, meaning they're passed down from parents to children. But even then, inheritance isn't guaranteed. Just because you have a bloodline ability doesn't mean your offspring will, and even if they do, the purity tends to weaken with each passing generation.

"The only other way to gain a bloodline ability is to be the first in your lineage to awaken one. But that's far rarer. Bloodline abilities already manifest in only one person out of hundreds of thousands. But the chances of being the first to awaken one?" Aziz shook his head. "That's less than one in ten billion."

Jabari's eyes widened slightly.

"Those rare individuals are called Originals," Aziz continued. "The defining trait of an Original is the purity of their bloodline. Since they are the first, their bloodline is 100% untainted, making their abilities absurdly powerful."

Aziz paused before holding up his right hand.

"As for mine…"

His crimson irises glowed, and that eerie mist Jabari had seen before materialised around his hand once more. But this time, the swirling red vapour thickened, solidifying until it condensed into a single, glistening drop of blood.

"My bloodline ability allows me to manipulate blood," Aziz stated. "This ability belongs to the Khan family, and those of us who awaken it are referred to as Blood Monarchs."

Jabari watched, transfixed, as the drop of blood wavered in the air before slowly dissolving back into mist, which then seeped into Aziz's skin.

"It's also the reason I knew you had a bloodline ability," Aziz added, his smirk deepening. "I can't automatically tell what your bloodline ability is, but if someone uses one near me, I can sense it."

Jabari nodded slowly, absorbing the information.

A thought suddenly struck him, and curiosity overcame his hesitation.

"Does that mean I inherited my bloodline from my family?" he asked. "Or am I one of those Originals you mentioned?"

For as long as he could remember, he had wondered about his heritage – about where he came from. But with no leads, no names, and no family beyond Inayah, the search for answers had always seemed impossible. Eventually, between her illness, his nightmares, and their constant struggle for survival, he had simply stopped wondering.

Aziz hesitated for the first time, a subtle imperceptible light flickering across the depths of his eyes before he answered.

"Honestly? You probably inherited your bloodline from one of your parents," he admitted. "Your bloodline doesn't feel pure enough to be that of an Original."

Jabari's heart sank slightly, though he wasn't sure why.

"And before you ask," Aziz continued, "I can't tell you which family you originated from. While every bloodline ability is unique, making it easy to trace back to a lineage, I don't know every ability that has existed over the years. Especially considering Ulo is a pretty secluded nation."

Aziz crossed his arms. "It's also possible that your ability comes from an ancient lineage that's been dormant for thousands of years, and you just happened to be the first person in centuries to awaken it."

Jabari clenched his fists. He hadn't expected an easy answer, but…

"Sorry," Aziz added when he noticed Jabari's dejected expression. "I imagine most orphans dream of finding out where they come from."

Jabari forced himself to relax, inhaling deeply.

"It's fine," he replied evenly. "I never expected the answers to be that simple."

Aziz nodded approvingly before suddenly casually adding, "oh, I almost forgot, me having awakened my family's bloodline ability is a secret."

Jabari blinked, taken aback.

"If that information got out," Aziz continued nonchalantly, "it could very well get me killed."

Jabari stiffened. "Then why the hell did you tell me?!"

Aziz chuckled. "Because I needed to show some sincerity before I explained my real intentions."

Jabari tensed at those words.

Aziz met his gaze, his smirk fading into something more serious. "I don't want to take you as my apprentice anymore."

A whirlwind of emotions struck Jabari at once – confusion, frustration, caution, and even a hint of disappointment.

But before he responded, Aziz continued.

"Instead of an apprentice…

I want to take you as my personal disciple."

Jabari's emotions settled somewhat at Aziz's declaration, but one pressing question still remained.

"Is there a difference between the two?"

"Of course there is," Aziz replied without hesitation. "A teacher or mentor guides their apprentice for a set period – one year, in this case. But the relationship between master and disciple? That's a lifelong bond."

Jabari listened carefully as Aziz continued.

"As your mentor, I'd train you to the best of my ability for a year, and that would be the end of it. But as your master, I'd do my best to train and protect you for the rest of our lives…

Or at least until you surpass me. Then, you'd be the one protecting this old bag of bones."

Jabari was intrigued by the concept, but one particular part of Aziz's explanation stood out to him.

"You'd protect me from anyone who might want to kill me?" he asked, his heart racing.

Aziz arched an eyebrow, sensing Jabari's sudden shift in excitement. "More or less…"

Jabari clenched his fists, his breathing slightly uneven as he hurriedly asked, "How does your strength compare to the leaders of the Kamara Tribe?"

The air grew heavier.

Aziz didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze darkened, locking onto Jabari with an intensity that made the boy's chest tighten. It wasn't the first time Aziz had looked at him like this, but this time… it was different.

Jabari held his breath, the weight of the silence pressing down on him as he awaited the answer.

Finally, Aziz spoke.

"There is no one in the Kamara Tribe who can stand at my level," he stated, his tone absolute.

Jabari's eyes lit up. A surge of hope unlike anything he had felt in years burst forth within him.

If he's that strong… if he becomes my master, then-

But before the thought could take full shape, Aziz continued.

"But due to certain extenuating circumstances, I can't take action in Ulo lightly. Not without sparking an international conflict, especially when it concerns one of Ulo's major tribes."

Like ice water being poured over his soul, Jabari's excitement vanished.

His heart sank, his hands loosening as his fingers went slack.

His situation hadn't changed. He was no closer to finding a solution than he had been before this conversation started.

But the worst part? For a moment, he had dared to hope.

The sensation of having that hope ripped away was far worse than never having it at all.

Aziz observed the shift in Jabari's expression, his own eyes narrowing slightly. He could tell that whatever was driving the boy was deeply personal – too personal to be shared so easily. But despite his curiosity, he refused to offer false promises.

"Don't rush into making a decision," Aziz said. "Take your time and think it over. We have an entire year together, after all."

Jabari studied him carefully.

This time, he was the one peering into Aziz's soul.

"…Why are you going so far?" he asked, suspicion lacing his tone. "If you just wanted a disciple with a bloodline ability, you could've easily tricked me into saying yes."

He wasn't wrong. Aziz was immensely powerful. On top of that, he was a foreigner. He had no reason to go out of his way for some nameless kid from the slums.

So why?

Aziz chuckled softly before his gaze turned solemn.

"There's a saying my own master told me before he accepted me as his personal disciple," he said.

"A master for a day, a father for life."

His voice carried an unshakable weight, and for the first time since they had met, Jabari could feel the sincerity radiating from Aziz.

"I take the bond between master and disciple very seriously," Aziz continued. "If I take you as my disciple, you become family. And if that's the case, then I don't want you making this decision under false pretences."

Jabari's breath hitched slightly. 'He's serious…'

And that was the problem.

For a split second, he wanted to trust him. He wanted to believe in that sincerity.

But then, as if burned into the back of his mind, another face surfaced in his thoughts.

Oluwa.

That single memory – the betrayal, the pain left behind by the actions of someone he once considered a brother – was enough to snap Jabari back to reality.

Trust was a luxury he could no longer afford. Not when Inayah's life was on the line.

Aziz seemed to sense his hesitation and let out a small sigh.

"As I said," he murmured, "there's no rush. Take your time to think it over."

"Thank you!" Jabari said sincerely.

Aziz smirked. "Don't thank me yet. Whether or not you choose to take me as your master, I'm still your mentor for the next year, which means I'm going to train you to the best of my ability." His smirk widened into something far more sadistic. "In other words, you'll be seeing the gates of hell on a daily basis."

Jabari swallowed, suddenly questioning whether his gratitude had been premature.

Aziz continued as if he hadn't just threatened his sanity. "According to the information I received from the other Elders, this first year is all about building the strongest possible foundation.

And as a former slum resident, you have to play catch-up in more ways than one."

Jabari tensed slightly at the blunt statement, though he couldn't exactly argue against it.

"You'll need to balance your physical training, learning the fundamentals of combat, and picking up all the basic knowledge that comes with being a warrior. On top of that, you'll also need to learn how to read and write." Aziz's expression remained unreadable. "Luckily for you, as a seeded student, you have a choice: you can either learn in a class with the other students, taught by one of the Deacons, or… I can teach you personally."

Jabari took a moment to weigh his options.

He ultimately chose to have Aziz teach him for three reasons.

First, one-on-one lessons would be far faster and more efficient.

Second, it would save him valuable time he would otherwise waste travelling back and forth.

And third – most importantly – if he used his bloodline ability to enhance his brain function, he could learn even quicker. He didn't want to risk using it in front of others, so studying under Aziz was the safest option.

Aziz nodded at his decision. "Good. Now, onto the next matter – we need to discuss your bloodline ability."

Jabari stiffened slightly.

"I need to understand how it works," Aziz continued. "That way, I can help you learn to control it and learn how to properly incorporate it into your training."

The mentor and apprentice duo spent the rest of the day talking about everything – from Jabari's bloodline to his choice of weapon. They even discussed his morning training sessions with August, which led Jabari to ask if Aziz's training would be anything similar.

Aziz's response?

A devious smile.

No words. Just that smile.

Jabari immediately regretted asking.

They only paused long enough to eat – something Jabari thoroughly enjoyed, as it was far better than anything he had eaten in a long time.

By the time they were done, the sky was pitch black. Aziz, being Aziz, decided that regardless of whether Jabari's legs had long since recovered, he would carry him back to his accommodation – without asking for permission, of course.

Jabari sighed in resignation, already accepting that he had no say in the matter.

As they arrived, Aziz set him down and prepared to leave, but not before saying, "You should keep training with that August brat every morning before coming to me."

Jabari frowned. "Why?"

"There are two reasons." Aziz raised his right index finger. "First, while my movement technique requires you to use your entire body, it still places the greatest strain on your legs. Strengthening them as much as possible should be a priority."

Jabari nodded. That made sense.

"But more importantly…" Aziz smirked. "You should spend time with kids your own age instead of hanging around an old man like me all day."

Jabari raised an eyebrow. "That's the second time today you've called yourself old. You barely look thirty."

Aziz chuckled. "Here's a valuable piece of advice, my young grasshopper – never judge the age of the strong by their outward appearance."

Jabari's brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask what that meant, Aziz continued,

"The stronger you become, the longer you live. I may look young and dashing – suave even – but I've already lived a few hundred years."

Jabari's brain froze.

Before he could even begin to process that revelation, Aziz disappeared in the blink of an eye, vanishing at a speed far too fast for Jabari to follow.

But for once, his speed wasn't what shocked Jabari the most.

It was the fact that his new mentor had been alive for several centuries.

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