Origins of Blood[Has been republished]

It seems that there really are shades of gray in this strange world, Elliot thought, pressing a hand to his right brow. Bill approached him, closing the distance to just a meter or two. His gaze was serious, piercing deep into Elliot's soul. "You have blue blood in you." As Bill spoke these words, the other four turned their attention to Elliot with heightened interest.

"How much?" Elisia asked, glancing at Bill, whose eyes bore dark rings. After a brief pause, he replied, "Just a minimal dose, but it's relatively pure from an undead source, right?" Initially, Elliot responded normally, but he soon noticed the intensity of Bill's gaze upon him. "Yes, a zombie-like creature attacked me."

Elton and William burst into laughter simultaneously. However, the enchanting Elisia interrupted their merriment with a serious expression. Bill continued, running his fingers along his brows. "Regardless, Elliot, you need to understand that this blood, which is derived from a ritual, grants you special abilities. Particularly since this blood has been ritualized and is in relatively good condition, you should have taken a specific path akin to ours. We can't truly assist you since we are blue-blooded and you are red-blooded, but we know you likely possess some kind of power related to death. What kind, we can't quite ascertain, but it can be discovered quite easily. However, we need to prepare something first."

Bill paused briefly and walked over to a wooden cabinet filled with various utensils—herbs, objects, and other items. "Chris, could you please fetch two grams of silver lizard powder and a quill made from a nasche?" While the two moved towards the scattered cabinets, Elliot surveyed the surroundings. It resembled the layout of a bureaucratic office: tables and chairs with no dividers between the spaces, wooden lockers and cabinets scattered throughout the room, and an open door leading to a side room. Inside was a display case mounted on the wall, showcasing various items alongside containers of powder and empty syringes.

"Elliot, if you could take a seat over there," Bill gestured with his palm towards an empty chair next to William, who shifted slightly to make room. Bill continued speaking as Elliot sat down. "You only need to recite a simple formula while holding this quill, and at the end of your recitation, just let go of the quill."

Bill retrieved a small, sharp knife and carefully sliced into the tip of Elliot's blood-stained finger. Crimson red blood flowed out—just a few drops—but within seconds, Bill had covered the wound with a small beige bandage. For a moment, Elliot's eyes shimmered, threatening to redden, but he steeled himself and paid close attention to Bill's instructions.

"I will now chant something loudly and look up at the ceiling. When I glance back at you, repeat a single sentence after me. But remember to let go of the quill at the end," Bill instructed.

After swallowing a good amount of saliva, Elliot nodded. Without hesitation, Bill mixed the two grams of silver lizard powder with a herb known as Fluora into the red blood that pooled on a white sheet of paper before Elliot. Moments later, the blood began to swell and froth, darkening in hue, while Elliot's eyes and mouth widened slightly. The other four managed to maintain their composure.

Bill began to chant as the mixture continued to spread. "Gott des Wissens schenke uns deine Kraft. Lasset uns wissen welche Gabe ihr uns schenket! Oh allwissende Gottheit teilet uns euer unermessliches Wissen!"

As Bill formed his hands into a large book-like shape, he held it before his forehead, leading it down to his chest. Finally, he looked deeply into Elliot's vacant blue eyes. His irises had vanished, replaced by a blue haze. "Lasset es uns durch das Blut meines Wissen, Oh werter Gott des Wissens!"

Without hesitation, Elliot echoed, "Laessed eas uens duerc daes Bluet moines wuissean, Oh weater Goid deas Wuiscens." The chuckling and snickering of the others were impossible to ignore. William, Chris, and Elton turned blue from their laughter. Only Bill remained serious, while Elisia covered her mouth with her smooth, elegant hand. The others followed suit, but at the cost of resembling blueberries.

To their dismay, the quill began to move in the air as Elliot released it. At that moment, Elliot's face flushed red, and he clasped his hands between his thighs and the chair. The quill dipped into the now darkened blood, forming a symbol that resembled an eye without a pupil, surrounded by circles resembling stars from a satanic cult. Outside the eye, a larger circle perfectly encircled it, all rendered in dark crimson.

The quill continued to write a sentence: "Die Gabe, Tote zu visionieren." Elliot scratched the back of his head, feeling bewildered. However, Bill relieved Elliot of his ignorance. "It means you can interact with the dead in some way, as the God of Knowledge suggests, through visions—envisioning the deceased."

Bill and the others exchanged bewildered glances. Bill continued, "To be honest, we haven't encountered such a branch before, especially since you're a red-blood. You should know that such an occurrence is less than one or two percent among you red-blooded individuals." William interjected into Bill's monologue, turning his chair around to lean against the backrest. "You've probably ventured into a separate branch with this."

Elton sighed, glancing down at Elliot. "What William meant to say is that only a handful possess this specific ability. Something more common, like the ability to converse with the dead and ask them a few questions, or even to control them to a certain extent, could exist. However, since you are red-blooded, such powers are exceedingly rare, and naturally, you have different branches and paths of abilities that you can pursue and acquire." Chris spoke as he slowly stood up, making his way into the side room. "Essentially, you possess a unique ability—whether it's good or bad is yet to be determined. You—"

But Chris was interrupted by Elisia. "Let him process everything first." With a sigh and a grim sideways glance at the others, she added, "You're not getting to the point and are only confusing the poor boy."

Poor boy? Elliot wondered to himself, staring blankly. "But I'm already 21 years old!" he protested.

He gazed at five faces, all of them flushed with a shade of blue, some more than others, but even Bill, who usually maintained a serious demeanor, couldn't help but chuckle. They covered their mouths with their hands; William and Elton laughed so hard they bent over, clutching their knees as tears streamed from their eyes. "Please... you look too innocent and naive," Elton attempted to regain his composure, though laughter continued to escape him.

Elliot sat there, still perplexed, staring at the ritual table. What on earth is so funny?! he thought, gritting his teeth but with less force than before. He simply waited for the others to calm down and return to their usual tempers.

"I'm sorry, but you must understand that red-blooded individuals are indeed short-lived. Your blood differs not only in power but in every aspect. To summarize, the blood provides sustenance—be it regeneration, oxygen supply, or other necessities. However, with a different blood type, like ours, blue, which most of us in Avelor or, more generally, in Elisia possess, everything about human senses, muscle strength, oxygen capacity, memory, compatibility, and many other aspects changes."

Bill lectured Elliot like a biology teacher, wiping a single tear away from the corner of his eye with his finger. After taking a deep breath, William added, "And regarding age, our organs and everything else in our bodies are better supplied, allowing for an average lifespan of around 140 years instead of just 80 like yours."

Chris, who was still recovering from the earlier fit of laughter, leaned against the doorframe. "But one must also know that age varies significantly. Most people don't die a natural death. Those who do typically live just over 220 years."

Elisia looked at Elliot with a playful glint in her eyes, attempting to hide her smile. "As you can see, we all look to be in our twenties or early thirties, yet in reality, we range from our mid-forties to late seventies. As for me, I just turned 47 about a month ago."

Elliot stared at the ritual items laid out on the table before him, his lips curling into a bemused grin. Please, just hit me… he sighed and stretched his neck forward, asking, "But why are you all so nice, just like Pillar?"

While I'm aware that there are shades of gray even in this strange world, why on earth am I suddenly so lucky?! Not that I'm complaining or anything… Ren… Elliot sighed again, thinking of his brother. ...Please be well, please, please… I hope you're doing okay...

However, instead of receiving the usual comforting reply, Bill abruptly cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Elliot, how about we start getting you accustomed to work?" Before Elliot could respond, Bill placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him through the side room into another small office. It was relatively bare and compact—white walls, a window, and around ten square meters in size. A brown wooden cabinet with drawers held a collection of documents scattered across a glass table. A few cobwebs clung to the upper corners, and dust coated most surfaces.

"The first thing you should do is sort all the documents by date. Once you're finished, try cleaning the room as well. And make sure to fetch something if a colleague comes to see you, be it food, drink, or anything else they might need."

With a slight smile, Bill gazed deeply into Elliot's eyes, then gently closed the door behind him, leaving a small gap. Just like Ren used to… Elliot thought melancholically, staring at the slightly ajar black door. But why were they so eager to evade my question?

Running his right hand through his tousled dark blonde hair, he focused on the numbers, letters, and dates in front of him. With a long sigh, he began to sift through the first batch of documents.

…

Several hours passed—perhaps even more—but for Elliot, it felt like no time had passed at all. Outside, the sky had darkened significantly. He frequently glanced out at the alley, which, although not high up, offered a view of the increasingly warm day, the bluish mist dissipating. The clouds danced with the azure sun in the turquoise sky, yet everything seemed to slip away so quickly. Within just a few hours, night had enveloped the surroundings, growing darker with each passing moment.

A soft knock echoed on the already closed door. "Elliot, your shift is over; you can go home now." Bill's voice sounded slightly weaker and quieter than usual.

Without hesitation, Elliot stepped out of the now pristine room, filled with neatly organized documents in the cabinet and drawers. He felt a newfound lightness in his posture and a spring in his step. As he walked through the side room and then into the main area with the others, he heard Bill utter a final remark: "And please, wash up starting tomorrow."

With a passive nod, Elliot opened the door and made his way toward Lynn Street to meet Edwin and Samantha. As he exited, his upper body shivered, and his teeth clattered together slightly. Rubbing his dirty hands together, he glanced back at the sign of the Blue Sharks, then up at the starry black sky.

The surroundings were now bathed in a golden hue from a half-golden moon, the mist no longer tinted blue but lightly gilded. Who would have thought I would come to enjoy my work more than my home… With a sigh, he gazed at the night sky for a few seconds before heading back toward Edwin and Samantha at Lynn Street 16.