Mira and Minx were teaching us to fight.

Every one of us had a weapon of choice, but the teachers had had enough experience to use them all, and well.

They were walking around the class, spending some minutes with each student.

It turned out that, among the newbies, Roman, the Speaker, had an affinity with knives, I knew my way around guns, and Jonathan Loreta was handy with a sword.

So handy, that, apparently, he thought that listening to the lesson was beneath him.

That suddenly made me quite angry -- I remembered that it wasn't the first occasion in which Jonathan seemed to have trouble keeping attention.

Being a Blood Drinker is a choice. A choice that's going to determine the rest of your life. It's not like being in some kind of church, listening to a sermon you don't particularly like; or being to the schools where they teach you how to write (where Jonathan hadn't paid much attention either, judging by his scrawls.)

Being a Blood Drinker was something in between being in a cult, and being in med school, when they give you the tools to start life-saving operations.

It required your full attention, and devotion.

To give less than that was absolutely irresponsible, especially to your own team.

I decided I would corner him after the lesson and talk to him about it.

I instantly cringed. How much of our language could he really understand?

Maybe that was the problem, I couldn't help but think.

I barely dodged a blow from Jason (he had decided his weapon of choice were his bare hands), and let the matter go until I could talk to Jonathan alone.

He could get distracted all he wanted, but he wouldn't distract me.

Minx sliced a watermelon open with his saber.

"The trick is to cut nice and clean," he said. "The Creatures, as much as they may look like it, are not monsters. They are just taking a corporeal form in our realm, the dimension in the Universe that is mostly dominated by matter. They are not your foes, they do not fight back. They don't need to be tortured, or played with. They don't need to be given a chance to survive, either. Do not be shy, or guilty, about killing them. They do not have feelings. Just aim for a soft part and... WHOOSH!"

After the lesson ended, Mira told us we could go to the river and get washed up. I noticed Jonathan was hanging shyly by the riverbend, waiting for everybody else to finish before he washed himself. I decided to do the same. I realized later how creepy that must have looked, but I had no other choice. Blood Drinkers, especially young trainees such as us, were almost never left alone.

We paitently waited -- each for our own reasons -- for everybody else to scram.

Atticus and Aurora were the first to finish, and went quickly away. I realized Roman, who was so lonely it was almost starting to become a serious problem, had not come at all.

I tried not to judge the kid too much, but he must have sweated as much as the rest of us -- I just hoped he was going to bathe somewhere else, but he had a bit of a shabby look about him, like he wouldn't care too much either way.

Cora and Evangeline splashed playfully, only half- undressed, even if it was enough for Jason to stare.

Carmela was almost naked, and Jason soon started concentrating on that. They were the last to leave.

She, because she had started feeling a bit out of place, and he because 'there was nothing to look at anymore.'

Even though, before he left, he shouted at me if I could show him the biological gender of my body.

I showed him the finger, which was also a metaphor.

I was feeling pretty proud of myself, and had almost forgotten about Jonathan, until I heard his voice. He was speaking softly.

"Is it because of people like Jason that... you... didn't bathe with the others?" he asked me gently.

"I don't mind showing my private parts," I shrugged. "People should respect my gender identity either way. Do you know what I find absolutely thrilling? Pissing on trees. When I do, I wouldn't trade my private parts with any others."

The look on his face was enough to make me understand he really spoke Megleni. Good. I usually dealt in these little tricks. They made me feel a bit like a double agent.

"Actually," I said. "I was waiting for you."

He blushed the deepest shade of red I had ever seen, and I realized how that must have sounded like. So much for secrecy!

"It's not what I meant," I said, suddenly on edge, much less friendly, remembering what I had set out to do.

"I wanted to talk to you, and I wanted you to hear my words, and listen well. For it to work, we needed to be alone. You... tend to get distracted easily."

"I know," he said sheepishly, and for a moment I hated myself for what I was about to say.

But I needed to say it anyway, or I would have lived to regret it.

"You need to go away," I said. I said it matter-of-factly. I didn't soften the blow. We weren't friends. But the look on his face made me wish I could choose better words.

He looked like I had just slapped him.

It was all wrong. It wasn't meant to taste so sour. It wasn't meant to make me feel like a bully. It was meant to be the right thing.

Sometimes doing the right thing hurts, my mother had told me.

I thought of her and gathered some courage.

"Where could I go?" Jonathan asked. He hadn't even questioned my words. That hurt. I hadn't meant to break him, but that didn't matter. Sometime, somewhere, someone had already done it.

"I just mean, you can't be a Blood Drinker," I tried to explain.

"And why not?" he furrowed his brows.

"Because... have you even heard Mira and Minx's words?" I exclaimed.

"They do... talk a lot," Jonathan admitted, grinning.

I didn't smile back.

"We are like a team!" I said. "We are meant to live, and die for each other! We need to be able to collaborate! We'll be facing the Creatures together, and I need to know I can rely on you when we do."

He was starting to get a little angry.

"Why are you explaining this to me?" he said, suddenly much colder. "Do you think you can rely on Jason? Do you absolutely trust all of the others? Roman hasn't even washed himself with the rest of us."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Neither did you," I said.

"Well, look who's talking!" he bit back immediately.

"You don't understand," I said, aware I sounded a bit childish.

"Then make me," he replied.

It wasn't just a request. There was a harder edge in his voice now. It was a dare.

"You don't know anything about the Macbeths, do you?" I asked wearily.

"Your family? I'm afraid not," Jonathan said.

I highly doubted their reputation hadn't spread behond Meglenia, but I let it go for his ignorance's sake.

"My family is a family of Blood Drinkers. There has been at least one in every generation for thousand of years. Most of us marry other Blood Drinkers. It's easier -- we share the same lifestyle. But it's not the only reason; the child has more chance of developing a Skill in their DNA when two Blood Drinkers reproduce."

I trailed off a bit. Talking about reproduction with Jonathan made me strangely uncomfortable, and I was aware that I wasn't giving him the answers he needed to hear.

"Why is your family so obsessed with all of it?" he asked.

"We're not obsessed!" I couldn't help but argue. "It's an honor to be able to do the best job in the world, the most useful! We can't just sit still thinking there's people out there risking everything for the community, and it's not us."

At least, I could speak for myself. And my mother. She had started out for the same reason.

"Are you afraid my presence in the class might muck up your family's perfect record of attendence? Do I distract you so much?"

"That's not the point!"

"Then get to the point, you'll make us late for dinner, and we haven't even bathed yet."

I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"My mother was an amazing Blood Drinker. One of the best there ever was. She gave everything she had to the team. One day, she and her fellow mates were in a mission, battling a Fadua. She killed it, but got away just barely. Her best friend hadn't helped her at the right time, you see. She was distracted, convinced it would be an easy task, and that my mother could take it on all on her own."

Jonathan had paled.

"Well, my mother had been wounded by the Creature. There was nothing anybody could do to cure her. The cut in her leg was too deep. In a few days' time, it magically disappeared. But you know how Creatures aren't really what they seem? Well, she fell sick."

I gulped.

"She lost her eyesight due to the illness," I added hastily.

Jonathan looked sick now.

I realized comparing a naive thirteen-year-old boy to the young woman that had carelessly let my mother get injured might have been a little too much, in retrospect.

"My mother could still be a Blood Drinker after that. She hasn't officially retired to this day," I felt the need to say. "All of her other senses are very sharp, and the Blood gives her a little sight. But she had a bad time after her accident. She had thought about quitting. She actually did, for a while. That's when she married my father, a man with no hint of powers in his blood, and gave birth to me. Almost immediately after my birth, she realized her mistake and relocated with her family. She's the only surviving Macbeth who has been trained. Most of them die young, anyway. I always knew this was going to be my place. I wouldn't forgive myself for not trying."

"But I want to do it the way I was taught," I added. "Religiously. If you don't feel up for that, I suggest you to pack your bags."

"I'm not leaving 'cause you are afraid," Jonathan said. "Do you know what I think? We're all here because we're running from something. You're not special because you're a Macbeth, so you don't get to act like royalty around me. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to bathe. You can go back to wherever hole you crawled from. You think I haven't got what it takes to be a Blood Drinker, but Minx himself has asked me to come to his school. Did you know that? I guess we'll see who's the better Blood Drinker."

"Yeah, I guess we'll see," I snarled.

I went away, with a strange feeling. Jonathan Loreta may have been a lazy, irresponsible kid, but he, and his skill with his sword, were better to have as a friend rather than an enemy.

A few miles later, I found a small lake. I must have gotten lost. Thankfully, I heard familiar voices nearby.

Atticus and Aurora were still bathing, and they were splashing water on Roman, who had only entered the water until it reached his knees and looked like he didn't want to go any further in.

He reacted to the splashes with the same annoyance that I had seen on cats, and immediately covered his chest modestly when he saw me, going wide-eyed.

I had no idea if he thought I could be into him (hell, no thanks), or because he was ashamed of the way he looked.

There was no point denying he had handsome features and would one day become as attractive as his brother Atticus was, which was a lot. But there was always something a bit off about him. Like his skin, which was grayish pale, and his chest who was so skinny you could see the ribcage poking underneath in a way that reminded me of a bird.

"Come on, it's just Cypress!" Aurora said. "You know him, Rome! Try to act a little less uptight around him, wil you?"

She pushed him gently, but Roman was so distracted that even a little push was enough -- he fell headfirst into the lake, his knees betraying him.

He came up for air in a split second, but he looked impossibly scared. He started shivering and trying to get out of the water, moving incoherently.

Atticus, skin and hair golden in the sun, immediately helped him up and shot Aurora a strange glance. Like she had broken something he had taken a long time to build.

He looked almost dangerous for a second, but then it passed. I was sure Aurora hadn't even seen it.

I stripped until I was only wearing a nightgown, and went into the water. I wasn't extremely shy, but I wouldn't have bathed naked.

"Cy!" Attticus called me. "Is it okay if I call you Cy, right?"

I shrugged. I didn't really like it, but I didn't want to let him down.

"I'm Rora," Aurora said. "Roman is Rome, and Atticus is Atta-Q!"

"Nice," I lied, trying to forget those awful nicknames as fast as possible.

"Look, I need to talk to you guys for a second," I added then.

I wasn't talking about Roman, but I doubted he could hear me anyway. He had successfully ran towards his clothes, and was managing to cover up his body as fast as he could manage without tripping all over his feet.

I told them about Jonathan. I tried to make it sound less like bullying, but, honestly, it was kind of hard not to.

"I think you should apologise, honestly," Aurora said, after a while. "Trust me, he'll get where you were coming from."

She bit her lip. "Now I feel guilty for having fucked around a lot, too."

Atticus laughed incredulously. "It's your last year, Rora. I doubt someone will hold it against you."

"Yeah," she frowned unhappily. "Especially since I need to find some family I can fit in when school won't be one of my problems anymore. Then, I'll have to learn how to trust all of others all over again."

Atticus kissed her hand. Normally, I would have felt embarrassed to assist, but I realized, quite shocked, that it was like there was no chemistry in between them.

It was like they were playing a role. But I didn't think they knew it either.

"We talked about this," he whispered, almost a low growl. "Before you know it, I'll be finished too, and we'll hunt together."

"We'll cultivate immortality together," she added, dreamily.

Atticus' face got dark. I felt like this was something they disagreed on.

"Maybe," he conceded. But his face told a different story.

Not only cultivating immortality was so hard it was almost impossible, but many people also deemed it unnatural. No Macbeth had ever tried. That I knew of.

Atticus excused himself, and went to sit next to Roman. I was too far away to hear what they were talking about, but they looked happy. Well, Atticus looked happy. Roman looked... comfortable, that I guess was the best I had ever seen him.

Aurora's face had soured a little.

"They're brothers," I said, before I could stop myself. "They're bound to want to spend time with each other."

"Have I said anything different?" she asked, suddenly cold. I had guessed right -- she was somehow jealous, but I couldn't understand why.

"Atticus lives for Roman," she told me. "Don't be fooled by Roman -- he knows it. And he uses it. We're never alone, Atticus and I. You can't enter a relationship with Atticus without signing up for some babysitting along the way."

"Roman will find someone, one day," I said, trying to sound more sure than I actually felt. "He'll leave you two alone soon enough."

After that, I decided to go looking for Jonathan. I liked Atticus and Aurora, and Roman too, to some extent. But they had seemed to be all very caught up with their own problems. Jonathan had been right. I couldn't trust any of my classmates, so why target him especially?

It wasn't his fault if he was the one who was always on my mind.

I hoped he was still bathing -- at least, I would have known where to find him. I also hoped he wasn't naked or anywhere near it. I had already seen enough bodies for one day.

He was in the river, but not bathing. He was practicing his moves with his sword, and I couldn't help but be impressed -- he was fast and light, steady on his feet despite of the mud.

I had to admit it.

He was probably the most skilled person in our class, at least where fighting was concerned.

I wouldn't say it to him, though. That would have sounded like a pathetic way to make peace. I was here to say sorry, not being some bootlicker.

"Hi again," he said, without turning around. "Is it Lady Macbeth, now that you're wearing a dress?"

He added the last part after a quick glance in my direction.

I cursed loudly. Of course, I had forgotten the rest of my clothes where Aurora and Atticus had camped. I hoped someone would remember to bring them back to school, at least.

What's more, the dress was still drenched after I had taken my bath, and it was probably more revealing and attached to my skin than I would have liked.

"I just came to say sorry," I said. "What I did was... definitely improper. And impolite. It was wrong to assume that you couldn't hold your own in a fight. Well, you're just a newbie, after all, and you're not so bad. I shouldn't have said you were likely to put us all in danger. That was particularly mean. And I'm sorry I told you to go. It's not my place to decide who wants to give this life a try."

"Thanks for the kind words," Jonathan said, slashing through the air at an imaginary opponent. "But do you mean them?"

"Prove me right," I grinned. "And I will."