Page 77 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

The King of Sepikara stepped forward, hands outstretched. “It’s over. Divine Law protects her from our interference. Fate has spoken and chosen its Champion.” He glanced around at the Trial Champions who had managed to survive, though they bore no title.

Survivors .

History had been made in more ways than one.

His wife stood next to him in proud support as their servants whispered furiously between each other.

It came as no surprise to Ambrose that the king of a kingdom renowned for its innovation in magickal weaponry would be a metal mage.

“I decide what fate decides!” Casimir roared.

“If you attack again,” the tundra king said carefully as he stepped forward. “We will be forced to retaliate.”

As he spoke, every royal and upper noble stepped forward, though some seemed to resent it.

Divine Law was law to all of them.

Casimir glared at the beings around him—not even his power was enough to stop them when Divine Law called them into action. They may not defy him under any other circumstance, but even he had to bend the knee to the Divine.

Ambrose stepped forward with newfound confidence. She reached into the place where the golden ring of keys was still tucked away. One by one, she released each of the locks that caged her.

First her wrists.

Then her corset.

And finally, the collar around her neck.

She stared at Casimir as she did so.

She was a Champion now.

“This isn’t over.” Casimir shook with rage.

“Yes, it is.” Ambrose glared.

“You’re a fool. You have no idea what’s been set in motion. It’s only just begun.” Casimir turned his face towards the sky, tangled blond locks like snakes framing his sharp features as he bellowed, “Valdis!”

The sky outside the palace windows grew darker still as all the stars in the sky went out and the moon vanished from sight.

The Grand Hall filled with a mysterious purple mist that made royals hiss and burned Ambrose’s skin like a poisonous gas.

The eyes of every non-noble or royal being glazed over with the same distant look Akadian had had and Ambrose frantically looked for Ernaline whose arms were flat by her side, her eyes staring off into nothing.

The firelights that hung on the walls extinguished, plunging them all into darkness.

Even Akadian’s fire choked out, leaving them all in pitch black.

Akadian held out a hand and called his flame into it. It sputtered and Ambrose lifted her own hand and put a protective barrier around it with her wind, making sure to keep the mist at bay, but also allowing the fire enough air to survive.

They held each other as the blue light of the flame danced against the purple haze.

The mist curled into every corner of the room and began to take solid form in front of the thrones .

“You’re dead,” Casimir promised, emerald eyes wild as he glared at Akadian.

The mist swirled and grew until it towered over them and took the shape of a dark winged being.

The creature looked like a cross between human and dragon, but not in the way the draconians were.

With the face and body of a human, large horns rose from his head as his black-purple leathery wings flexed and filled the hall.

His long, deep purple hair, so dark it was almost black, fell down to his knees in a silky waterfall.

he was strikingly beautiful in a way that haunted the room.

A perfect being. Royals jumped out of the way to avoid being cut down from the claws on his extended wings.

His skin a soft purple that matched what should’ve been the whites of his eyes.

His amber irises were shaped like a cat’s as they took in the room before him.

Magnus rushed forward and threw himself in front of Ambrose and Akadian. Pulling his hands to the sky, a white strip of lightning shot from the ceiling and he pulled it in front of him, into a condensed ball of energy—ready to strike.

“Magnus…” Ambrose reached for her mentor but brought her hand back to her chest. The ball reflected the silver from his robes, highlighting the determination on his face.

Valdis peered down at them as though the sight before him bored him, stopping on Magnus, and then on her. But she could see what was truly hiding behind his eyes—knowing. And anger.

Every royal and noble in the room dropped to their knees and placed their foreheads to the ground.

Ambrose watched as every other human, fae, and mage did the same.

Terrified servants followed their masters in bowing to the creature, their eyes shut tight as they said as one, “For bonds and bloodline.”

Fear like Ambrose had never known swallowed her. Devoured her. Consumed her as it clawed at her chest and though she didn’t want to, willed her to do the same—but Akadian held her on her feet.

It couldn’t be —

“My Liege,” Jovian purred. “Welcome back.”

“Akadian,” Ambrose muttered against his chest. Something in him went rigid at the sight of the being and she could feel him tensing beneath her as though fighting against something she couldn’t see.

The prince stiffened, back straight as Valdis looked directly at him. He flexed his wings, eyes narrowed as Valdis approached them, never taking his eyes off Akadian. “Bow.”

Akadian almost buckled and sweat pooled on his temple. “No.”

“Maybe we should…” Ambrose didn’t know why she said the words.

She didn’t want to, and while the rest of the room instantly fell to their knees, she forced herself to stay on her feet.

Fear clawed at her chest like a rabid animal stuck in an ivory cage, threatening to tear itself out with hooked fingers.

“That’s the god who created me,” he told her.

The God of Mind. The King of the Gods. She thought. It had to be. That was the only explanation for the magick trying to slip inside her, bend her to its will—caging her inside of her own mind, beckoning her to listen.

Demanding.

“Bow, boy,” Valdis commanded but Akadian refused and backed away with Ambrose tucked into his side.

“No.” Akadian took a deep breath and his lip trembled as he bit down on it. He gently squeezed her side as though to still the crushing fear inside of her. Defiantly, he met Valdis’s eye. “You’re not my god anymore.”

Ambrose stared at Akadian and something like pride swelled inside her.

She looked at Valdis who simply cocked a head at Akadian and released whatever hold he’d been attempting to take.

Akadian relaxed in her arms and breathed a little easier, but he didn’t let her go. If anything, he held her tighter.

Valdis eyed them both, the slits of his pupils narrowing. His eyes locked on Ambrose and though she could feel his magick around her mind, coaxing her, shredding her insides with a fear like she’d never known, she tilted her chin up and refused to look away.

“Interesting.”

Casimir rushed forward and threw himself to his knees in front of Valdis. “ My Lord, this must not stand. You must kill him.”

Valdis stretched his wings and hissed at the king who bowed before him. “ You do not make orders of me. Know your place, Casimir .”

The crowd remained on their knees as Valdis swept his gaze over the room, falling on every one of the rulers one at a time. Each of them kept their head down, their breathing as ragged as Ambrose’s.

“I can’t take it anymore!” a servant screamed wildly and grabbed one of the Imperial Guard’s swords and plunged it through his own chest.

No one moved.

No one made a sound.

No one even breathed.

Valdis turned to Ambrose and Akadian, then to Magnus who was the only other one who remained on his feet, Hammer of the Gods still swirling in front of him in a glowing display of pure energy.

“You may leave, Champion,” Valdis spoke, his voice ancient and furious.

“Per Divine Law, no one here will stop you. Fate has decided… So, we shall see what becomes of you.” Valdis glared at her through a stony expression, though his face betrayed none of the fury his eyes clearly displayed.

“Prepare yourself for the next trial,” he spat venomously.

“I have a feeling our paths will cross again.”

With that, the god called Valdis launched himself into the sky from an open window and disappeared into a whisper of purple.