Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
I did. I’d read about it in The History of The War of Two Kings and the Kingdom of Solis. The answer had been in that damn book I’d been forced to read a hundred times. Probably the only part that was true. “An Atlantian reaches a state of maturity. You call it…the Culling, when they go through physical changes.”
“And when certain other abilities begin to manifest or strengthen for some,” he added, his eyes bright in the dimly lit room. “For me, it was compulsion. As a child, I could be somewhat persuasive, but once I went through the Culling, I could force my will onto another if I wished.”
A hollowness spread in my stomach. “Then why haven’t you just made me go along with whatever it is you wish for me to do?”
His brows furrowed together. “Because I may be a monster, but I’m not that kind of monster, Poppy.”
There was a catch in my chest as I looked away from him.
“Besides, compulsions are temporary, only useful for immediate gains,” he said. When I looked at him again, his expression had smoothed out. “And interestingly, just like you can’t pick up on emotions from the Ascended, compulsions do not work on them either.”
I cleared my throat. “Do you know why?”
“Some believe it’s because they have no soul.”
I thought of Ian and then shut those thoughts down. “So you think my abilities are changing because I’m going through the Culling?”
“A version of it, yes. Your blood wouldn’t have been useful to them until you at least hit nineteen, even if your abilities took the next two years to morph.”
As I processed what he was telling me, my brain went in one direction. “Will I develop…fangs?”
He lifted his brows. “Doubtful. Half-Atlantians don’t need blood, so they don’t need fangs.”
“What about…immortality?”
“Would you not want that?”
I thought of the Ascended, of how long they lived, and I wasn’t sure their lack of humanity was due to what they did to survive or because they lived to see everyone around them die several generations over.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Will I?”
He shook his head. “Only full-blooded Atlantians have what mortals would think of as immortality.”
I wasn’t sure if I should feel relieved or not. “Can I even Ascend then? Be made into a vampry?” I asked, thinking of Ian. If he were part Atlantian like me…
“I honestly don’t know, Poppy. It is forbidden for any Atlantian to Ascend anyone with a drop of mortal blood in them. Even the half-Atlantians that live in Atlantia are not Ascended. They live and die just like mortals,” he explained, and that was something I didn’t know about those who lived in Atlantia. That not all Atlantians were like him. “I would imagine a half-Atlantian going through an Ascension would be the same as a mortal. They would become a vampry.”
Meaning, they would be ruled by bloodlust, just not as consumed by it as a Craven. Pressure settled in my chest. “When a person is turned—made vampry—what happens to them?”
He was quiet for several moments before he said, “They are fed upon by other vamprys, brought to the brink of death by blood loss, and then fed blood from an Atlantian. Sometimes, the change is immediate. Other times, they can appear dead for hours. But they wake up and…they are hungry. As uncontrollable as a Craven, it often takes several Ascended to subdue them.” His jaw worked as his gaze shifted to the fire. “Even after being fed, they’re consumed by hunger. I’ve heard that it can take weeks, sometimes months for a newly made vampry to control his or her thirst.”
A sinking sensation threatened to pull me through the floor. There had been a space of time after Ian’s Ascension that I hadn’t heard from him. It was when he’d married, and it had been months.
“And I know that for those who could not abide by what was now needed of them, they ensured that they would not harm another,” he added quietly.
“How?” I asked, instinct telling me that the answer wasn’t going to be an easy one.
“They choose to walk when the sun is at its highest. It doesn’t take long, but it is not quick by any means. Nor is it painless.”
Oh, gods.
Now that…that sounded like something Ian would do. But he was alive. He’d been sending letters. He had to be alive.
I swallowed. “Those you saw turned? Did all of them seem aware of what was happening?”
His gaze shifted back to me. “I know where you’re going with this, and I don’t think the answer will change things in the way you wish.”
“Will you just answer the question?”
His lips thinned. “The Ascended held a ceremony for it. Mortals were brought in dressed in robes and wearing masks. Meaningless words were chanted, and candles were lit. Some seemed to know what would occur. Most appeared intoxicated. I had no idea if they knew exactly what was happening.” His chest rose with a deep breath. “Some seemed drugged. I doubt they even knew if they were awake.”