Page 43 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

“ A mbrose! We need you. If you can produce Water, now would be the time!” Podara yelled over the roaring flames that had claimed the home for their own. “We can’t hold these back anymore!”

The words tore her from the trance she was in as Ambrose stared at what was left of the deacon. Her fury clouded her vision, but it didn’t matter now.

She forced herself to let go of Antony’s body, making sure to cover his wound so Artie wouldn’t see what had become of his youngest son. He’d already lost his eldest, and now his wife and youngest son, all in one night. The ground threatened to swallow her but she willed her legs to move.

It didn’t work. She couldn’t save him.

She was useless. What was the point of being able to wield more than one Element if she couldn’t use the one that mattered the most?

Everyone had taken to throwing water from the well onto the fire but it was no use.

The small hole couldn’t produce enough to stop the Wyldfire that spread throughout the house and claimed the fields.

She placed a hand on Artie’s shoulder and allowed herself a moment of grief before turning her attention to the fire.

When she reached Podara, the flames danced above their heads ready to devour anything in sight. The town seemed alerted to the fire, based on the shouts coming from the distance.

No one would help them.

They were used to this.

Houses and families going up in flames in the middle of the night. The draconians no doubt kept the villagers at bay.

The only thing that outweighed her grief… was her rage .

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she forced a few deep breaths.

Lifting her hands to the sky, she willed the heavens to give her what she needed.

Clouds shifted above them as they swirled together, thickening with each moment until they formed a ceiling above the farm.

Thunder rolled and lightning illuminated the sky as the clouds grew darker still and then finally… it began to rain.

At first nothing more than a sprinkle, but in a matter of moments became a downpour that drenched everything it touched.

It poured onto the field and house all the grief and sadness that Ambrose felt breaking her heart.

The flames receded into the night. Smoke billowed from the charred skeleton of the house as the rain washed away the fire, leaving nothing left but burnt bones.

As the roar of the fire died, Artie’s anguished cries broke through the now-silent night.

“Are you okay?” Akadian asked, his voice broken.

“This is my fault,” she sobbed, looking around at the devastation. If she’d never come here, if she’d left this family alone, they’d be alive.

“No it’s not.”

“They did this because of me.” It was too much.

“They did this because of their own fear and ignorance.”

“I hate them.” She wished she’d been the one to finish the deacon, but was pleased with his fate all the same.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” He rested a hand tenderly on her shoulder.

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face and saw the same pain and regret painted on his features. “You stopped them.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

She placed a hand on top of his. “You always have a choice.”

A scream broke them from their train of thought.

Mary ran towards them, tears and anger coating her face as she took in the sight of her mother and brother. “What—What happened?”

Ambrose ran to her and wrapped the girl in her arms who shrieked and cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. ”

Mary clawed her way out of her arms and ran to her father at her mother’s side as she kept repeating. “What happened?” Over and over.

Over and over.

Ambrose couldn’t bring herself to look.

Mary’s cries turned to fury as she held her mother’s body.

Akadian walked up to Mary and Artie, careful to be gentle as he reached down and pat Artie on the shoulder who held his wife’s hand in his, pressing it against his forehead as he cried.

Artie didn’t move or look.

Ambrose wasn’t even sure if he realized his daughter was beside him, grieving with him. Alyx stood over his mother’s body with his little fists clenched and tears running silently down his face. To be so young and see such horrors.

Eurus cradled the crying infant in his arms. He reached down and nudged Artie’s hand that held his wife’s. When Artie raised his bloodshot eyes, Eurus kindly showed him the infant. “They need you right now.”

That seemed to bring Artie back to reality enough to realize that his son and daughters were with him.

He glanced at Alyx, standing strong in the face of unimaginable pain, and his daughter who bent over her mother and pulled them both into a hug.

The boy slumped into his father’s arms as Mary wrapped her arms around him, crying into his neck.

When he was ready, Artie reached for his infant daughter and Eurus placed her carefully into his arms.

Artie held all three of his remaining children tightly as he said, “Thank you for doing what you could.”

Ambrose almost broke at his words and kindness. How could he not blame her? He had every right to, but instead he was thanking them?

“Please…” Ambrose sobbed, unsure of what she wanted to say.

Artie straightened as he tightened his grip on his children. “I can take it from here. You have to go.”

“No.” Ambrose reached for him but pulled her hand back. “We have to help you bury them. You can’t fix all this by yourself.”

Artie looked at her, the pain in his eyes enough to cut her down. “It’s my family, I’ll take care of it. It’s not safe for you here anymore.”

“But—”

Artie shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now that you’ve killed the deacon.

No one has harmed a disciple since they got here and I can’t imagine the rest will take this offense lightly.

They’ll come for you. You have to go. Now.

Please.” He gave them what she assumed he thought was an encouraging smile but it came out as a grimace.

“Then we definitely can’t leave you!” Ambrose protested. “What will happen to you?”

Artie pulled himself to his feet, the joy in his face gone as his eyes reflected mournful death.

“They won’t be looking for me, they’ll know this isn’t my magick.

My wife and I are nature mages—” he paused.

“My wife was a nature mage.” He pulled himself to his feet with the wisdom of a man who’d seen dozens of battles.

“They’ll be looking for whoever caused this, you have to go. ”

Ambrose’s brow furrowed and she looked at Akadian. “We can’t—”

Podara was the one who spoke. “We have to go. Let them grieve and bury their dead. We don’t want to make it worse for them by being here when the others show up.”

Ambrose opened her mouth to protest—

“Leave!” Mary screamed at her. “You’ve done enough!”

Her words cut deep to her core. Ambrose glanced at Akadian who looked as determined as Podara.

It was time to go.

She looked down, heart shattering. “I’m sorry.”

Though she knew those words would never be enough. The rest of the party stood, ready for the next move.

Oryon helped Danthan stand as he healed whatever the disciple had done to his mind.

Artie pointed into the darkness towards the northwest corner of his property.

“There’s a trail that leads into the forest, hardly anyone knows about it.

It’s the path my son used to use. It should be easy enough to find, even in the dark, if you stay in that direction.

Follow the path until you reach a fork in the road.

Go left or you’ll end up right back in town.

” He met Ambrose’s eyes one last time and bowed his head deeply in goodbye. “Until we meet again.”

Akadian thanked him as he grabbed Ambrose’s arm and pulled her away before she could fight it anymore.

She sobbed quietly as they ran in the direction that Artie pointed them in, eager to get under the cover of trees.

They found the break in the forest as Oryon and Eurus comforted each other and Felius stared blankly at his battle axe, no doubt wishing he’d dealt a deadlier blow.

Danthan moved in silence with his head down and Ambrose worried what the mage had done to his mind.

Podara’s face an expression of stone as she scanned the area around them for crimson cloaks, a blade ready to strike in each of her hands.

Akadian kept his hand around Ambrose’s bicep, half guiding her and half keeping her standing altogether. If it weren’t for the feel of his touch, she wasn’t sure if she could will her legs to move.

“I see it,” Podara called, quickening her pace as the treeline came into full view.

The small opening in the trees was so well covered one would miss it if they didn’t know it was there. Trees rose above them as their limbs reached out, waiting to cover them from danger. As they slipped into the forest, all sounds of commotion died and the stillness of the woods surrounded them.

They ran deeper as Felius lit a firelight to illuminate their path. Only when they were sure they were far enough in did they slow their pace and catch their breath.

“Um, what happened back there?” Danthan asked in shock, stepping forward on the path, barely looking at where he was going.

“We lost,” Ambrose forced out.

“No, we’re here to fight another day,” Akadian tried to reassure.

“Tell that to Marybeth and her son ,” Ambrose spat.

“I know.” Akadian dipped his head. “But we stopped a lot of future pain.”

Podara gained a stern look as she scanned the trees. “I wouldn’t actually be so sure about that. ”

The crunch of fallen leaves broke the silence as they stepped, but otherwise the forest was mute.

“What makes you say that?” he prodded.