Page 3 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

A mbrose made it back to her quarters, making quick work about changing.

She struggled out of the leather pants that were so formed to her they were perfect for combat but made it rather difficult when she needed to remove them.

Once they were folded, she moved her hands to unwrap the corset strapped firmly around her body—the leather worn from the amount of training she and Adym had been doing lately.

Her brother had given her the corset as a gift for her birthday before last. Where he’d gotten it, she still didn’t know.

Dragon leather was extremely expensive and usually something only the upper class or nobles could afford.

Her brother was a no-star and the only wages he received were housing, a meal, and the honor of dedicating his life in service to the empire.

There was no way he could afford it the traditional route and her brother was not one to break the rules lightly, even for her.

So, how it had come into his possession was beyond her.

The corset relented its grip as she unhooked the last strap and released a small, relieved breath.

Slipping the cotton undershirt over her head, she folded the items, slipped them into her usual hiding spot behind her bed frame and switched into the servant attire they were all required to wear.

The stone walls of the palace were as empty and suffocating as always, but the sun was just now shining through the windows and washed her skin in its warmth.

She tilted her face towards the sunlight and allowed herself a few quiet moments to feel its warm rays as the sun cradled her face, showering her in radiance…

before the rest of the world had to come cr ashing down.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” a sweet voice scolded from behind her just as Ambrose wrapped her colorless dressings around her and clipped them into place.

Draped over her, the white gown wound its way around her entire body, clinging to her chest, and held in place with a single brooch that bore the same emblem her brother’s sword had.

Silver and gold intricately designed with the crest of Eltoria.

The crest that told the empire which kingdom she belonged to. Not that she would ever get to see another one.

Ambrose turned to meet a deep brown face shining back at her.

Ernaline’s slightly pointed ears—the ears of an elven fae—poked out from under her dark, curly hair that had been braided and pulled up into a bun with flowers of all colors from the gardens woven in.

Though she wore the same uniform as Ambrose it screamed sophistication on her in a way few could ever emulate.

Everything about Ernaline was elegance and regardless of being a servant she’d managed to turn more than a few heads at court, even among some of the highest nobility.

But Ambrose knew her real talents were her unfiltered brilliance and her Nature Magick.

“Just finished up. I was just about to come and find you.” Ambrose returned her smile enthusiastically.

“Don’t tell me you just woke up.” Ernaline shook her head in disapproval.

“I may have slept in a little unintentionally,” Ambrose said as guilt clawed at her chest. She hated lying to her best friend, but if anyone knew about her nightly excursions with her brother they could be punished as well.

Severely. Looking at Ernaline’s smiling face, she knew she would never allow anyone to hurt her.

“You’re lucky I came to find you before old lady Asquith did, or you really would’ve been sorry,” Ernaline warned.

“You’re right, the last thing I want to do is unleash that woman’s wrath.” Ambrose thought of Ms. Asquith, short and authoritative as she barked orders down in the kitchens while servants scrambled to their morning duties. Morning duties they were no doubt going to be late for.

“Then let’s make sure she doesn’t notice when we slip in.” Ernaline raised her finger to her lips and Ambrose eagerly nodded in agreement.

Whispering between them, the girls slipped out of the dorms and made their way down the never-ending corridors that would take them to the palace kitchens.

The smell of breakfast filled the air as nobles began their morning, the halls coming alive with life.

Some nobles had taken to enjoying the early morning sun in one of the many open courtyards, while others had taken to lounging around in other ways, already making demands of the nearest servants.

As they rushed past the training yards, Ambrose tried to keep calm but couldn’t stop herself from scanning the crowd, looking for a man that towered above the rest. Fighters of all kinds had gathered and it looked to be that almost all of them were awake now and training among themselves.

She glanced around, shoulders relaxing as she realized he was nowhere to be found.

Just pairs of fighters circling one another as bystanders watched, betting on who the winners might be.

No matter, how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled into her stomach since her encounter with Rowland.

Something about it wasn’t quite right.

Her brow furrowed as she struggled to come to an answer.

What did he see? Had he seen her magick or her? Was he telling someone and that’s why she couldn’t find him. Was he telling someone at court right now ?

Her mind wouldn’t stop racing at the implications but she did her best to shove them away.

Whatever problem might arise from it, she would just have to deal with it if it presented itself.

Across from the fighters’ courtyard the mages were all gathered for their lessons in their own respective yard.

Murmuring excitedly between each other, no doubt in anticipation of the morning’s lessons.

Ambrose’s stomach fluttered as she thought of her own Magick lessons that week and her excitement swelled.

Standing in a circle, one mage stood in the center that far stood out among the rest. A magickal current surged through the air, powerful and controlled.

Only one mage in Eltoria could command the power that sizzled on their skin.

The air surrounding the Grand Mage erupted with Magickal energy as lightning ripped above his head.

He lifted an aged hand towards the white streak before it could hit him, pulled it from the sky and contained it into a ball of pure energy, now crackling before him.

The silver and gold specks on his robes flickering lights as they reflected the glowing ball.

The circle of mages clapped furiously at the demonstration as the Grand Mage pushed his hands together and the ball dissipated. He smiled, swooping his hands high into a deep and dramatic bow towards his students.

Hammer of the gods.

An unfathomably high skill—one no regular fire elemental could replicate.

Turning lightning into energy was something very few in the continent could accomplish.

Magnus was definitely showing off. Maybe one earned the right when they became as powerful as he was.

Ambrose certainly had never met a more impressive mage, save for the royals themselves.

Though, that was hardly comparable when the Grand Mage was only human and the royals were something else entirely.

The king’s Lightning Magick could put Magnus to shame.

Every mage in the empire was some kind of Elemental, and it was their duty to spend a lifetime mastering one of them.

They were the physical key to maintaining the balance of Magick and nature.

Every element had a major and secondary elements attached to it and some mages had aptitudes for all aspects of an Element, while some had talents in one particular area.

Magick and Mana were essential to the natural order of their world, without it, nothing would exist. Mages helped to maintain the balance of all the Elements and Magick; it was the ultimate responsibility for everyone to do so.

It was The Calling.

Some could use minor aspects of the Elements before their calling, like Ambrose.

They were called Common Elementals. Nothing special but capable of contributing.

Below that, were the Mana-Holders. Beings who only had enough Mana to maintain their life—that many saw as a drain on Magick and the empire.

Only a mage with a calling was truly valued in Almuria .

Scowling at her lack of a calling, Ambrose relented that she would just have to keep training for when that day came. Until then, she was basically powerless aside from short-lived bursts of minor elemental work. It would never be enough to protect her.

The hearty smell of meat pies welcomed them as they reached the kitchens. Servants scurried and limbs flew as they hastened around, accomplishing their individual duties.

“Didn’t I tell you to bring breakfast out fifteen minutes ago ?

” Ms. Asquith shoved servants out of the way to stir something that boiled on the stove and simultaneously pulled a golden meat pie out of the oven and placed it on the counter.

Steam rose from the expertly made pie that could only have been done by the fae herself.

Nothing less could be expected of Ms. Asquith.

A terrified looking fae squeaked out an apology while moving pies, dishes, and decanters of wine to a dining cart. Accompanied by a bowl of fruit as well as fresh bread, various flavors of jams and butters, and a plate of small cakes with light fluffy frosting just big enough to eat in one bite.