Page 6 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

Mara was the first to step forward and demonstrate.

Shoulders squared, her dark brows came together as she concentrated and her cheeks gained a light pink hue.

Her channels grew quiet and for a moment it seemed as though nothing would happen when a spark ran through the air and a fox family burst to life in front of them.

The foxes jumped playfully leaving a trail of mist behind them as her magick shifted and swirled to create the images.

They weren’t solid, but they were beautiful nonetheless and something to be proud of for a first attempt.

Mara stumbled, a small gasp escaping her as she pulled the back of her hand across her forehead wiping away the sweat, when the foxes dissipated.

Her chest heaved but her face beamed with pride as she looked to Magnus who clapped ferociously.

To attempt to create a living creature and a moving illusion was no small task and she should be proud.

The rest of the circle took turns attempting, and mostly failing, at their illusions.

They each struggled but a few mages aside from Mara showed a little bit of promise.

Some were able to a create small, solid object such as an acorn, or a seashell and proudly displayed it to Magnus who equally celebrated all his students.

While most of them failed to make anything take shape, the lesser noble—who couldn’t do anything but whine—zapped himself unconscious and the healers took him away while Magnus shook his head.

One mage by the name of Dante showed a good amount of skill.

Another palace servant with warm eyes, brown hair and a freckled face, a kind heart and a mind with a thirst for learning.

He and Ambrose crossed paths rarely but Ernaline had taken a small liking to him.

Dante was able to call on an illusion of the palace library in perfect detail.

From the weathering of the books, to the details on the carpets, down to the crest of Eltoria fitted into the moldings.

An illusion made of the same mist as Mara’s but still highly impressive.

Ambrose could see why Ernaline was spending extra time in the library when she could.

The Grand Mage shook his head encouragingly and threw his hands into the air in delight. “Yes! That’s it! Absolutely marvelous.”

It was finally Ambrose’s turn and their master turned his attention to her and she couldn’t help but smile at him.

Magnus had taught her everything she knew about Magick since she was a young girl and been there for her more times than she could count.

She didn’t have a father but if she had anything close to it, it was the man standing in front of her.

“I’ve been practicing,” she said proudly.

Magnus got an encouraging twinkle in his eye. “Show me.”

Ambrose closed her eyes and tried to think of a peaceful place.

Somewhere she felt safe. She focused on the Mana flowing through her and the way it rushed to her when she called upon it.

She soothed down the chaotic feeling that squeezed her and turned it into a running flow that she rode like a river throughout her body and mind.

She imagined the woods behind the city and tried to conjure the image of a tree.

Any tree would do, she’d seen them hundreds of times now.

Burned their colors into her memory. Surely she could form something.

The way the tree branches warped in the wind, the soft grass under her feet as she stepped, the breeze that always kissed her cheeks.

She tried to gather an image of anything, even a beetle if she could, anything she’d seen from the forest but all she saw was overwhelming light.

The harder she tried to focus, the brighter the light got.

Spreading around her, above her, inside her, everywhere.

There was nowhere it didn’t exist anymore.

It swallowed everything in sight. A part of her wanted to be afraid.

Somewhere far away, a voice called to her—her voice—and urged her not to use too much.

Not to push too far that she couldn’t pull back.

But a bigger part of her told her she was safe, and everything was okay.

To keep pushing. That something else was pulling… telling her to come closer…

An image began to form. A tree. Not like one she was trying to imagine. This tree was beautiful beyond the ones she’d seen in the kingdom, but the light kept the full image from coming through, though, it felt as though it wanted to. She just couldn’t quite reach it…

“That’s enough.”

The oxygen was yanked from her lungs and the image that had been trying to take form was gone. Ambrose choked as she was left clawing at her throat for breath that wouldn’t come. Frantically gulping at nothing, she stared wide-eyed at her mentor.

“It’ll pass,” Magnus said with a twinge of regret, his face turned away from her.

Ambrose looked up at him, eyes pleading. Was he mad at her? What did she do?

“Why did you do that?” she managed between gasps.

“That’s enough,” Magnus said again. All the joy and glee that filled their Grand Mage was gone and he stared at the ground in a disturbed, thoughtful expression as he turned on his heel and, robes billowing in the wind, walked away.

Leaving no room for questions he left them all there without a glance back.

* * *

Trying to get back to her duties proved to be more difficult than Ambrose thought.

She couldn’t shake the image of the tree that wanted to form and wondered where it had come from.

Where she could find it. If it was even real.

She still couldn’t wrap her mind around Magnus’ reaction to it or why he seemed so upset when he left.

It wasn’t like the trees in the forest behind the palace.

Those trees were scattered everywhere around the walls, anyone who grew up in Eltoria would recognize them.

Maybe it was from the Fae Forest? She’d never been, so who could say?

But something about this tree felt different…

like it was alive somehow… Almost as if it had magick of its own. But that was impossible…

* * *

The rest of the day went fairly smooth, all things considered.

Aside from her lessons that morning with Magnus, her afternoon was pretty boring in comparison.

Ambrose went about her duties, helping the servants attend to the halls, cleaning every corner of the palace just to do it again the next day, and the day after that.

The monotony of her life had become habit at this point, muscles moving with memory she had developed over years of serving.

She and the others worked in silence, moving from one room to the next, excusing themselves when the room was occupied—making sure the nobility didn’t need tending to—just to be shooed away in most cases by those who couldn’t be bothered with their presence.

Some nobles touted servants at their side to abuse for their entertainment, quivering mouths accompanied by down turned eyes incited roars of laughter from them.

Ambrose did her best to bite her tongue and finish her duties.

The sooner she finished, the more time she would be able to relax for some precious moments with Ernaline before curfew.

The sun curved its way above the palace until golden rays of light dipped in through every window.

This was her favorite time of the day. When the sun decided it was time to reach towards the horizon and showered the Capital in brilliant rays.

This was when the palace looked the most magnificent, golden streams settling against the stained glass ceiling, reflecting bits of rainbow on the polished white walls as though the world had never known true color.

Silver and gold trimming glowing brightly under the setting sun.

This was why Eltoria was known as The Kingdom of Light.

Every inch of the city and palace had been decorated so that when this particular time of day hit the entire city danced with a kaleidoscope of color.

Gold and silver accents coming alive as though being given their first breath.

Aside from the fighter arena and the Champion’s Tournament, this was what people traveled across the kingdoms to witness for themselves.

Finished with her duties for the day, Ambrose headed back to the kitchens to be relieved by Ms. Asquith.

By now, the sun was leaving and the warm evening air seeped in through the windows as the first stars dotted the sky.

The climate was always fairly mild in Eltoria, shifting between the summer season and the harvest in the fall.

After which, the harvest mages rested. Since it never got truly cold, there was no need for glass on the windows.

The king loved the natural air coming in and Ambrose was inclined to agree.

When she was younger, she didn’t understand why they would leave the windows open like that.

What if a servant tried to escape? Then one day, one did.

She was eleven years old and a servant had been caught trying to flee with a lesser noble that he’d fallen in love with.

They were both punished. The lesser noble got off easy with servitude and was shipped off to another kingdom.

But the servant… They tortured him for weeks.

His screams never ceasing in all that time until he finally succumbed to it.

She still heard those screams on the nights when nightmares decided to take her.

They left the body hanging in an iron cage for months until the birds picked it clean. Then they left it up a few weeks longer.

Message received.

Now, Ambrose had taken to enjoying the sense of freedom she got with the windows being open, even if it was all a delusion.

She would never be free.

She silently cursed the gods for abandoning them. How could they create all of this and allow it to become so dark? So evil?

They were no gods of hers.