Page 23 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

Afternoons had become one of Ambrose’s favorite parts of the day.

In the mornings, she’d train with Lily, honing her skills with a sword.

She was nothing like facing Adym. Where her brother was all honed technique and class, Lily’s fighting style was wild and unpredictable, though still earned from a lifetime of training.

Which had come as a surprise to Ambrose considering her birth status.

She couldn’t imagine many nobles with such an unrestrained fighting style.

It kept Ambrose on her toes as well as made her think outside of her comfort zone.

Lily was as quick with her blades as she was with her wit, usually leaving Ambrose aching in pain from laughter and training, the two of them growing closer each day.

While she was grateful not to have lost any skill being unable to train with her brother, Ambrose often imagined him on the sidelines cheering her on, correcting her form and giving her pointers as he did in the forest.

Her afternoons however, were now full with Magick lessons.

She’d finally been brought to a group session and was no longer training with the other servants who failed to master an Element.

Now, she trained with mages of all classes and wealth.

To her surprise, the insufferable noble from her old lessons also trained in her new ones.

Apparently, his parents so desperate for him to master an Element they had him in every available slot, though he hadn’t grown in any capabilities.

He was as incorrigible as the last time she’d seen him.

The rest of the group however, had proven to be rather impressive mages.

No longer was Ambrose positioned as a student of un-mastered power, but had joined a group of almost entirely fully formed mages well on their way to mastering their Elements, with only a few still waiting—and due any day—for their call.

Ambrose felt like a lie among such capable mages as she struggled next to them every day but trained desperately to join them in skill.

She hadn’t managed to reproduce the Lightning Magick she’d expelled into the hallway of the palace, though it wasn’t for lack of trying.

Beyond excited when he heard, Magnus had her doing drills every session in hopes she could repeat even the smallest charge.

“It’s no use,” Ambrose managed between breaths. The rest of the mages formed a rather informal mage circle around her, some sitting on the ground while others stood and observed. Ten skilled mages aside from her. Most of whom she’d committed to memory.

“You’re focusing too hard. You have to let it naturally release, your magick is already there, it just has nowhere to go,” a young blonde fae named Danthan Ashworth with pointed ears and a lightly freckled face called from the circle.

The heir to a lesser noble family that ruled one of the cities outside the Capital.

The Ashworths were one of the most powerful families in the kingdom, due to their magickal abilities as well as their lesser noble status.

He was by far one of the most promising mages among them.

“I know, I’m trying,” Ambrose forced out through clenched teeth.

She knew he was just trying to help and though she liked Danthan plenty enough, it only made her feel worse.

All this power and it still wasn’t enough to master an Element.

Exhaustion and frustration blended together inside of her as the others did their best to be supportive as well.

Their kindness only seemed to make it harder, her mind and nerves buzzing as she tried to focus.

Almost everyone there had claimed an Element, what was so wrong with her she couldn’t manage anything useful? If she truly had wielded Lightning and been called by Fire, why couldn’t she conjure even the lesser form of it at will?

“It’s okay if you need a break, don’t push yourself.” Even the whiny noble offered encouragement and that just about sent her over the edge.

Voices rang out, climbing on top of each other as each mage tried to offer their best support. They echoed in her mind like a bell that wouldn’t stop, her heart beating as though she were running at full speed.

The air tightened around her, suffocating her. Crushing her.

“Enough!” she cried. A streak of purple-white severed the air and struck the ground with a thundering explosion so loud it consumed the space above the palace as the light illuminated the entire courtyard.

The mages jumped into defense, saving their ears with no time to spare.

Three of the mages who failed to protect themselves in time, crumpled to their knees as they held bleeding ears, screams tearing from their throats.

Unable to hear their cries over the high-pitched tone ringing in her own ears, Ambrose was forced to watch helplessly as two struggled to quickly heal themselves and Magnus rushed to heal the third.

Ambrose stared at them in horror. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright.” Magnus waved her down. “They’re fine. Everyone is fine.”

The ones who had protected their ears now looked to the scorch mark in the middle of the courtyard from where her lightning had struck.

The other three checked their ears for any lasting damage, one shot her a look of disgust while the other two gave her forced smiles, which she was grateful for but knew they were just being kind.

Why couldn’t she control her magick? What was wrong with her?

She couldn’t even soak in her victory, knowing she had no way of controlling it. She was lucky the field didn’t burst into flames and burn them all alive.

Akadian was the only one smiling at her.

The temperature in the air dropped so fast it made her skin raise and her hair straighten.

A chill crisped the air as their breathing became a visible cloud that froze.

It was as though death itself reached his clammy hands across the yard and curled its bony fingers at them.

The temperature dropped so rapidly those without quick reflexes froze entirely.

The group cried out to a boy as his skin turned to ice and the light left his eyes .

His name was Tarryon, still just a juvenile and about to come of age after the Harvest Festival. Ambrose closed her eyes and tried not to think of the innocent face that had told the group just days ago about the girl he planned to ask to marry him at the festival.

His older sister—Willow—let out a growl of rage and agony as she launched herself at the being that entered the courtyard behind Akadian.

Casimir swatted her away with enough force she went flying across the yard like she was nothing more than a pesky insect. When she landed, her body froze, cracks forming as ice encased every part of her, her lips purple and eyes a milky white.

Ambrose dipped her head, unable to look at the fallen mages.

Didn’t she know that was suicide?

“I’d say our unexpected Trial Champion is doing rather well for herself, wouldn’t you say Akadian?” Casimir purred.

“Indeed,” Akadian replied shortly, all amusement gone from his face.

Ambrose hadn’t been face-to-face with Casimir since her trial.

Her skin trembled as he unleashed a piece of his potential.

A power so great she was aware that even now they were only witnessing an insignificant fraction of his capabilities.

Unbothered by the mages that glared at him with hate or fear, Casimir trained his attention on the only one that mattered to him.

His eyes as cold and calculating as she remembered, mirrors to a being truly made of nightmares.

“Yes… Yes… You have done well, haven’t you?

” Casimir’s eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to her, ice cracking under his steps as he closed the distance.

He was now so close, his breath froze her cheeks where it touched her.

“Lightning is it? So you’re a fire mage now…

” He glanced around the circle, emerald eyes falling on each mage one by one.

“This is not to be mentioned outside of this circle. Anyone who speaks of this will be executed without trial. Is that clear ?”

The mages shifted uncomfortably, bowing their heads as they murmured confirmation.

Ambrose struggled to keep her composure when faced with the monster in front of her. The power he wielded not only over Ice, but over her as well. She wasn’t sure if she imagined it but she could’ve sworn she saw Akadian step towards her as Casimir got closer.

“Nothing I would get excited about,” she feigned.

Casimir tugged a piece of her hair, twisting the white strands between his fingers. “Oh, I think it’s worth getting very excited about.”

She tried to focus her thoughts.

“What makes you so interested?” she challenged.

Casimir dropped her hair and placed his hand on her cheek, caressing it with fingers so cold they burned.

“I’ve never seen a servant behave the way you have in all my time of existence.

I find it intriguing beyond words. Consider me invested.

” She wasn’t sure why, but Ambrose was sure that was the truth and a lie at the same time.

“Besides, we’ve never had a criminal enter the trials before.

We’re in unprecedented times, and I prefer to be on the inside of history books. ”