Page 39 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

“ W elcome to my home.” Artie tipped his hat as they arrived just outside of town at a two story farmhouse big enough for a large family, with a porch that wrapped all the way around.

The wagon they’d been riding in came to a stop with a slight jerk and Ambrose was overwhelmed with gratitude when she dismounted.

The cart didn’t go very fast but her stomach barely survived the trip.

It was her first—and hopefully last—trip she’d ever taken on wheels.

“It’s lovely,” she said through deep breaths, and meant it.

The framing was amateurishly, but lovingly carved.

As though the person that had done it barely knew what they were doing, rather than had it made by a master.

Two rocking chairs swayed slightly in the breeze from their places on the porch.

A garden ready for the next season wound its way around the house that must’ve been beautiful in full bloom.

His lands extended for many acres, the soil sowed and prepared for the next harvest season with a scarecrow in the center that looked like it’d been made by a child.

The touches around the property, put in with such care, made it truly a home.

“You must have a large family,” Ambrose noted as she took in the farm.

“Five young ones and the missus.” Artie gave her a smile.

“You all met Mary at the tavern, named after her mother. She often works in the tavern in the off season when I don’t need so much help around the farm.

She likely won’t be back until the tavern closes for the night.

” Artie dismounted, pulling the horse’s harness off once his feet were firmly on the ground once more.

“My oldest, Junior, won’t be here tonight.

He went missing this last week.” Artie’s face dropped for a moment as his sadness decorated it.

“But we still set a plate for him every night, in case he makes it home.”

“Do people go missing in the woods often?” Ambrose asked gently.

“Can be.” Artie nodded. “Most of us avoid going into the forest but there are some who have found work or trade in them. It’s dangerous, so only the most skilled of us go and even then, many don’t make it back.

My son has been going in for years though, so I know he’s fine.

If anyone can make it in those woods, it’s him.

But I do wish he’d stop worrying his mama. ”

The lines that formed on his forehead told Ambrose his wife wasn’t the only one worried.

“I’m sure he’s on his way home,” she tried to soothe.

Artie flashed her a smile she didn’t think he believed. “I’m sure you’re right.”

As they reached the house, a woman who was the elder spitting image of her daughter greeted them in the doorway, a baby fast asleep in her arms. Golden hair and a friendly smile, she had a few extra pounds on her giving her a more matured beauty than her daughter’s.

If she was upset by the sudden guests, she didn’t show it, but instead welcomed them in as though they were old friends.

“Artie, you didn’t tell me we were having guests. I’d have made more food,” she scolded her husband.

“I’m sorry Marybeth, they came into town just earlier today.” He shot her a loving look. “I couldn’t leave them out there, all things considered.”

Mary nodded with full understanding. “Yes, I’m sure that’s right.”

Artie pulled the cap from his head as he reached his wife and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, careful not to wake the sleeping infant in her arms.

Mary swept her arm at the strangers. “Come in! Please come in. It’s so chilly out and I have a hot stew cooking over the fire that will warm you all right up.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Felius dipped his head at her as they approached the porch, leaving his battle axe outside next to the door. “You and your husband are too kind. ”

“Oh, it’s not a problem.” Mary shook her head. “Artie is always bringing home people in need of a hot meal and a warm bed. It’s no trouble at all. Let’s get you inside by the fire and I’ll have some blankets brought to the barn.”

They thanked them again for their kindness as they stepped through the threshold of the farmhouse.

It was warm, with immature drawings all over the walls, a handwoven carpet splayed out and the smell of a hearty stew brought it all together in a way that hugged Ambrose as she took it in. She’d never seen a home before.

Though they’d just eaten at the tavern, as the aroma hit her, her stomach growled and she was left to realize just how much their journey had taken out of her. Her muscles ached and protested as her stomach demanded more.

“Make yourselves at home,” Artie told them. “I’m going to get the horse and cart put away. My home is your home.”

“Boys!” Marybeth shouted into the house. “Company! Come say hello.”

A juvenile about the age of twelve came running down the stairs, followed by his younger brother who couldn’t have been a day over nine.

The older one had sandy brown hair that Ambrose assumed he got from his father—though she was guessing—as Artie’s hair had lost all color.

He smiled a semi-toothless grin as he greeted them, waving eagerly at the newcomers.

His brother however, clung to his older brother’s shirt, peeking at them from blue eyes the shade of the ocean.

The shade of Adym’s. With his golden hair tangled on his head, he reminded her so much of her own brother when he was that age that she almost burst into tears.

He had a shy smile that couldn’t have been more opposite to Adym’s confident one, but her heart tugged in her chest at the sight of him all the same.

The older boy introduced himself, “My name’s Alyx, pleasure to meet you all.” He swept into a bow with a dramatic flair that was reminiscent of the Grand Mage. Both fans of theatrics. Ambrose couldn’t help but appreciate the boy’s silliness.

“It’s nice to meet you, Alyx.” Danthan smiled and bent into his own dramatic bow. “You may call me, sir Danthan. ”

“You’re not a knight.” The boy’s face lit up as he ran giggling down the hall.

“Is that so?” Danthan teased, chasing after him.

Ambrose bent down so she was eye level with the small blond boy who stood in place, wide-eyed. “And what’s your name?”

The boy ran to his mother, clutching her skirt. “Antony,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Antony,” she repeated. “That’s a really nice name.”

The boy gasped and hid further behind his mother’s skirt, peeking out at her with only one eye.

“He’s the shy one.” Marybeth pat him on the back as Artie joined them in the entrance.

“Don’t know how that happened with this lot.

” She threw a loving glance at her husband who laughed softly and put his arm around her.

“You all met our eldest daughter, and the two youngest boys, my eldest won’t be here but this—” She raised the sleeping infant slightly. “Is Lyda.”

“You have a beautiful family,” Akadian spoke for the first time. “And a lovely home.”

“Thank you.” Marybeth nodded a bow to him. “I’m sure it’s nothing like you’re used to up in the Capital, but we’ve put our hearts into it.”

“It’s perfect,” he told her.

The couple ushered the group inside and brought them to the biggest room where a fire roared in the corner, a table in the center and an extra sitting area along the back wall.

A black pot boiled something delicious on the fire as they all took seats where they could.

Before they could finish sitting down, Marybeth was placing a steaming bowl in front of each of them.

True to their word, at the end of the table sat a full serving of stew that no one claimed or touched.

Waiting for someone who might not come home.

They spent the evening eating, drinking and getting to know each other.

Marybeth and Artie spoke of the recent harvest season and the good fortune it had brought them while the party members told them stories of the Capital and the wonders that could be found there.

The small boys held onto the stories with every word, playing with marbles at their feet as they giggled.

Antony sat at her feet and shot nervous glances up at her but grew more comfortable by the minute.

Eventually, practically sitting on top of her feet as he played with his brother.

Ambrose looked at the scene in front of her, throat tightening as she wondered if this is what it would’ve been like growing up with a real home and family.

If she and Adym had been born outside the palace with their freedom and their parents.

This family didn’t have much, but they had each other and she envied them.

What could her life have been like had she been born in this village instead?

She held back her sorrow as she told herself to appreciate the look into another world. A happier world. Their world.

She’d always be grateful for this moment.

After a moment, the questions that had been burning in the back of her mind all evening finally forced their way to her lips. “Why are there so many draconians here? And who are the robed men?”

Artie’s back straightened as though he’d been waiting for her to ask but dreaded answering. He took a deep breath. “They’re called The Order of the Brotherly Divine. But the people in town just call them The Brotherhood.”

“Who are they?” Felius asked as he drank from a goblet of rich wine.

Artie seemed to mull over his question. “They’re an organization that targets Unclassifieds. They believe it’s their duty to purge the empire of them. Their deacon is stationed here with a large force of disciples that have been causing a lot of pain since their arrival.”

“Damn bastards is what they are,” Marybeth spat as she bounced the baby back to sleep that had woken in her arms.

“When did they show up?” Ambrose asked, unable to calm the rage that sizzled beneath her skin. They’re targeting innocent people. “Where is your Magistrate?”