Page 61 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

W ith the tournament now only a couple of days away, the energy in the palace had shifted into the dark anticipation that usually came with this time. Trial Champions fought in the courtyards, eager to weed out the weakest among them before the events started.

Pairs faced off in brutal fighting, ripping each other literally limb from limb, cutting one another down in just a few blows.

The strongest among them holding nothing back as they dared to challenge each other.

Piles of bodies stained the ground with blood as servants dutifully pulled them away so as not to clog the battlefield.

Tensions rose as bets were placed and gold and silver crowns exchanged hands as guards, nobles, and citizens proudly proclaimed their favorites to win.

The bets much higher now that the stakes were also climbing.

The pit that formed in Ambrose’s stomach the night before hadn’t gone away, but had grown heavier with each passing moment as servants prepared the palace for the visitors from the other kingdoms that would all be arriving the next day.

Eagerly, servants hung floral decorations, polished the gold and silver accents on the walls, and scrubbed the floors until they sparkled.

All in preparation for the ball that would be held in honor of the year’s Trial Champions.

Usually, Ambrose actually enjoyed the custom.

She would attend to serve, but enjoyed the vast varieties of music, foreign wines and food, as well as the various new servants she’d get to mingle with and swap stories of foreign palaces and monarchies.

It was the only time she got to listen and learn about the other kingdoms. This year, however, she would be joining the list of names that would be announced to the royals as one of the Trial Champions.

They’d come hungry to see the new prospects.

Just one more day and she could be eating her last meal.

Just two more days and she could be seeing her last sunrise.

She desperately wanted to spend the day just being with the ones she loved, soaking in as much time as she could, but Lily had her training in one of the empty courtyards, away from the rest of the fighters until her muscles couldn’t take any more and she might pass out from exhaustion.

“Lily, enough.” Ambrose dropped her sword, chest heaving.

“We’ve practiced as much as we can. Let’s give it a rest.” She tilted her head to the side and her spine cracked all the way up her neck.

Shoulders sore from swinging her sword non-stop since the sun had come up that morning, she collapsed on the ground and rested her elbows on her knees.

“Do you think you’ll have a chance to rest when the tournament has started?” Lily swung her blade at Ambrose’s head, which she rolled away from and backed away a few feet.

“No.” Chest heaving, she gritted out as she swung her sword to counter. “But I think if you keep pushing me like this, they won’t have much of an issue picking me off first, since I’ll already be a mess on the ground.”

“I’ll heal you.” Lily swung her sword as it clashed against Ambrose’s who bit back against the reverberation in her muscles, but didn’t drop her sword.

“Lilyria.” Akadian stepped forward, glaring at her with daggers in his eyes. “ Enough .”

Lily gave Akadian a look of pure murder as she turned back to Ambrose who had collapsed to her knees, using her sword as support.

Tears filled her eyes and Lily stepped back a pace.

“Sorry.” She shook her head as though clearing it, sheathed her swords and held out a hand for Ambrose, which she gratefully took. “You guys are right. I’m sorry.”

Ambrose lifted her aching body to its feet. “I know you’re scared. We all are.”

The late afternoon sun beat overhead drenching both girls in sweat .

Lily looked away and the harsh warrior for a short moment was just a terrified woman.

“I just don’t know what I would do if I had to watch you die.

” She brought her gaze up and the fear that had been clouding her eyes sharpened.

“You’re really important to me. You just have to survive okay?

You have to. I can’t lose you. I don’t know what I would do. ”

Her heart leapt into her throat and Ambrose told herself she wouldn’t cry. So she gave her a sad but encouraging smile. “You’ve been training me for months now, you’ve done everything you can to get me ready. There’s nothing more we can do.”

Lily sucked in her lip as her brows pressed together. “You just have to be ready, okay? You have to win.”

“It’ll be enough.” Ambrose nodded. “It has to be.”

She just wanted to enjoy the time she had left.

Lily stared at her for what felt like forever before reaching out and pulling Ambrose into a tight embrace, her tears dotting Ambrose’s shoulder. “Don’t die. I forbid it, okay? I still outrank you, so you have to do what I say.”

There was the Lily she knew and loved. Hard exterior, soft inside. Sometimes Ambrose could forget they were practically the same age. Everything about Lily was honed to precision but underneath, she was still gentle in her heart.

“Don’t worry.” Ambrose wrapped her arms around her friend, throat tightening as she tried not to cry. “I had the best teacher.” She didn’t want to leave her friends behind, but Lily was strong. She’d survive this. Even if she didn’t think so. Nothing could break Lily.

“I hate to break this up,” Akadian pressed. “But we should get to the library and get some studying in before it gets too late. You’re going to need a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

The day the other royals from the kingdoms would all come to see the Trial Champions paraded about in obscene gowns and armor. Final bets would be placed as the royalty assessed if any of them had any potential before the real entertainment began.

“Maybe Ernaline found something useful since we met last night,” Ambrose said hopefully.

Much to Ms. Asquith’s protests, she finally caved and reluctantly let Ernaline spend the day in the library instead of at her duties.

Hoping too, that she could find something that could help save Ambrose.

Even Ms. Asquith was more on edge than usual in preparation for the Champion’s Ball.

Ernaline was drowning herself in every edition of An Accumulative History since their meeting in the library the night before.

Maybe she’d gotten lucky.

If anyone could find it, Ernaline could.

* * *

When they arrived at the library, Ernaline was bent over a stack of books, her mouth silently moving as she read lines from each one.

Skimming between them as her eyes glazed over.

Her usual well-managed bun was absent and her curls hung around her head in a tangled mess as though she hadn’t slept at all.

Her eyes were bloodshot as she sighed with frustration and threw herself into a chair that looked like it had been her bed for the night.

Fingers covered in ink from taking notes of what she thought to be the most useful.

“Find anything?” Ambrose asked as she took the empty seat next to her and nudged her shoulder playfully.

“Nothing!” Ernaline yelled, throwing her hands into the air, face scrunched in pain.

“I’ve read every book. Every passage. Scoured every shelf, even asked for any editions that might not be on the shelves.

There’s nothing!” She slammed the top book shut and covered her face with her hands, fresh ink from her fingertips smudging her cheeks as she did so, tears running down her face.

Ambrose rubbed her friend’s back. “I’m sure you did your best. You need to get some sleep, you look like the walking dead and I can only imagine how exhausted you are. You did everything you could, there’s nothing more you can do.”

She hoped that would get a hint of a smile from Ernaline, but instead, she scrunched her fingers in her hair and let out a dissatisfied grunt. “How am I supposed to get any sleep when we have no answers?”

“You have to.” Ambrose hugged her. “You’re going to be called into service tomorrow and will be presented in front of the other royalty.

They won’t be happy if you show up looking like this, you have to be presentable.

The punishment on the day of the ball could be so much worse than a regular day. Please. For me, get some sleep?”

Ernaline looked as though she might protest but in turn hugged her back. “Okay. You’re right. It’s getting late.” She lifted her face, brown eyes glistening. “You know I love you, right? I’d do anything for you.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You’re my best friend.”

“ Of course I do,” Ambrose whispered, pulling her in tight. She meant her next words from the bottom of her heart. “I love you too.”

With that, Ernaline reluctantly rose and bade them a good night, tossing nervous glances over her shoulder as she left the library.

Hopefully to bed where she’d get a good night’s sleep.

Ambrose and Akadian grabbed the stack of books to pick up where she’d left off, lighting a fresh candle as they hunched over the books and began to read.

* * *

“Today was exhausting,” Ambrose moaned as her body collapsed onto her bed.

“We read for hours and couldn’t find anything helpful.

Just more of the same we already knew. We couldn’t even find information on the trials at the creation of their existence or even a tiny hint of how to win.

They just popped up one day and have been running without fail ever since. What are we supposed to do with that?”

Akadian followed her to the bed and sat on the edge of it. “They were specifically designed to be nearly impossible to win. It’s why no one has even made it through the first one. The gods wouldn’t let just anyone into Naenaros. They’d have to be worthy in their eyes. ”

“Key word, nearly. ” Ambrose rubbed her face. “There has to be some way to win.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He propped down next to her and brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

“You know about every monster that’s been used for the last ten decades now, and you’ve been watching the other Trial Champions train for months.

You know their fighting styles, their strengths and weaknesses.

You know the weapons they prefer and how they’ll use them.

Let the others take most of the brunt and stay out of the way and alive.

Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to. ”

Ambrose tilted her head back as her thoughts raced inside it. One more day and it wouldn’t matter how prepared she was. It would finally be time.

“I’m scared.” The words left her lips in a whisper before she could silence them. She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

Akadian stared at her, mouth twitching as though he were trying to find the right words to say.

She studied the features of his face, the way his mouth curved slightly in a way that made it look like he was half smiling all the time, thinking of something wicked.

The way the specks of silver reflected the light in his irises, a sprinkle of moonlight in a deep-blue ocean.

The way the muscles in his chest flexed, rising and falling with each breath he took.

How his loose curls never seemed to stay out of the way of his face, no matter how many times he pushed them aside.

She stared at him until she was sure she burned his image into her memory forever.

He pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest, the smell of roses stronger than the faintness of the smoky scent. She breathed it in like it was the last pleasant thing she’d ever experience.

His heart beat in rhythm with hers.

She wished she could stop the moment and live there forever, tucked safely into his chest and away from the rest of the world.

Like two roaming stars that somehow had gotten too close and were now sucked into each other’s gravity until they collided into one cataclysmic show.

When they were like this, they weren’t a servant turned Trial Champion, or a prince.

They were just… them. She hated Casimir, but a part of her she didn’t know existed would always be grateful to him for the day he charged Akadian to st ay by her side.

They stayed like that as he rubbed his fingers over her back, fingers trailing from her shoulders to the small of her waist in slow, deliberate movements.

“If anyone can survive this, you can. In all the years since I’ve been created, I’ve never seen a mage with your talent or a warrior with your quick mind.

You have more skill than all of them combined and more heart and compassion than they could ever wish for.

You’re better than all of them and that includes the ruling class.

Your instincts are unmatched,” he whispered into her hair.

“You’re smarter than the best of them and stronger than any mage that’ll be in that arena.

I’ve never seen anyone do what you can do.

Not even the royals can command more than one Element, that has to mean something.

You just have to believe in yourself, like I do. ”

His words hit deep in her core and rattled her chest. No one had ever believed in her that much, not even Adym. She wasn’t sure how much she could return his sentiment. But if he could believe in her like that, maybe she could borrow some of his confidence and survive.

Survive.

How silly it felt.

She’d spent her entire life resenting the fact that that was all she was doing—surviving.

Now?

It was the only thing she wished for.

Down to her very bones it’s all she wanted.

But she’d be a fool to think wishful thinking would ever be enough.