He nods with a somber expression. “Your parents had the right to imprison me for life, execute me, or banish me.”
“I… I… had no clue,” I stammer.
“What were your crimes?” Bastien asks.
Heph lifts his mug and first takes a long pull. “To understand my crime, you need to understand blood magic. It’s been around for thousands upon thousands of years, long before Vyronas was ever created from a meteor stone. But when Vyronas was created by the founding druid daemons, a ban on such magics was put into place and very severe penalties were enacted. That ban and those penalties endured over time, but that’s not to say they were always observed. There were always practitioners of dark magic, particularly in the Scrinia line.”
I sort of know this—it’s part of our history lessons when we learn to develop our magic—but because blood magic is forbidden, nothing of substance was ever taught.
Heph sets his cup on the table and leans forward, clasping his hands as he looks between me and Bastien. “The principle is very basic—blood equals fuel. In other words, the use of blood lends more power to any spell, potion, or incantation a sorcerer attempts. It can be something as innocent as lending a drop of your own blood to a protection amulet you might give a family member or as sinister as using the blood of a sacrifice to raise a demon.”
“Ferelith has summoned demons from the Underworld,” Bastien says.
Heph nods. “It’s easy enough to do if you’re willing to spill blood. But that showcases a very fine point. Blood magic is not inherently dark or evil. The distinction lies within the person using the blood. What is their intent? It’s often not all black-and-white.”
“Then why was it unilaterally banned?” I ask.
“Because even those who use it for good are always vulnerable to the pull of more power that can be bought with blood magic. It was safest to outlaw it altogether.”
“How did you learn it?” Bastien inquires.
“There are enough history books out there with the knowledge. There are people who secretly practice blood magic and have handed that knowledge down through their families. Secret societies that hoard spells of power amplified with blood. Old warlocks who would be happy to share several beers with you and tell you their secrets when they’re drunk. The information is there, and I merely found it. My goal at first was pure research. But soon studying it wasn’t enough. I wanted to test it, and I started out slow. With just a drop, my spells were stronger and lasted longer.”
Heph pauses to sip his ale, something like shame in his expression. “It wasn’t long before I became obsessed with blood magic. I started experimenting in earnest. First, I used my own blood, as I learned that sacrificing my own with good intent always produced favorable results. However, I’m ashamed to admit I was fascinated when I realized the more powerful spells always needed the sacrifice of another’s blood to work. And if the sacrifice included taking a life, well… the spell was practically invincible.”
I gasp at the implication. “You didn’t…”
Heph’s eyes fill with tears. “I swear to you, Thalia, that I never had it in me to take an innocent life. But I did kill someone for their blood.”
My stomach rolls, and I swallow hard. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” he says bitterly. “Back then, it was an easy enough choice for me to make. Oh, I could tell you I had nothing but altruistic ideas of how to protect Kestevayne with the powerful new magics I was learning, but now… I realize I was obsessed more with the idea of making the perfect spell. I concocted a plan to bleed someone who deserved to die. A convicted murderer who had been sentenced to death.”
Heph trails off, seemingly lost in his memories. I glance over at Bastien, who wears a steely expression. “What happened next?”
“I used a captivity spell, brought the prisoner to my apartment, and drained him dry. I kept telling myself he was destined to die anyway. It made me physically sick to watch his life ebb away, but at that point, there was no going back. I completed my spell, and it was everything I’d imagined it would be. I had found a way to make spells that could not be defeated.”
I’m nauseated, partly because I’m not sure how to feel about Heph’s revelations. On the one hand, it was wrong… so very wrong to choose to take someone’s life. But on the flip side, Heph didn’t kill an innocent. He took someone who already had a death sentence imposed upon him.
“I don’t know how to reconcile this in my heart,” I mutter, pushing back from the table. My hand presses to my chest as I feel bile rising.