Page 54 of Immortal Origins
The boy screeched and tore at those restraining him like a feral animal. He screamed and cried her name as the cloaked figures hoisted the girl to her feet, tied her to the post, her tears staining her tunic as they did so. Her screams reached to the heavens but none of the gods were listening.
Ambrose looked frantically at Akadian who stared in shock. Being Unclassified wasn’t a crime, he could order these men to stand down with one word—
“Stop!” Ambrose was surprised when the word tore desperately from her own throat. Someone from behind clasped a hand over her mouth before the sound could escape her lips just as one of the cloaked mages thrust a hand towards the girl and she burst into horrible screams and flames.
Ambrose fought whoever held her back as she watched the girl writhe and the townspeople turned their heads to the ground in somber silence. Someone had tosaveher. She was innocent. Being born without Magick wasn’t inherently a crime, she couldn’t control how much Mana she had. She was just agirl.
“Please, there’s nothing you can do, this isn’t the place.” Someone whispered with a broken voice in her ear. She couldn’t see his tears but she heard them. Her own spilled tears down her cheeks as the girl stopped thrashing and fell limp on the post.
“That wasn’t a trial,” Ambrose sobbed. “That wasmurder.”
Akadian seethed beside her, muscles tense as his charge cut through the air and he started to approach the tattooed figures. A wrinkled handreached out and grabbed his arm. “Please, Your Highness. Not here. Not now.. It will only make things worse.”
Ambrose turned to see a stout farmer with a white beard, wrinkled face and eyes that reflected both joy and sadness. “Who are you?”
“The name’s Artie Rowe.” He pulled a cap from his head and bowed slightly as he faced her. “I’m a friend of a friend. I was told you might be passing through this way and was asked if I could take care of you all. I’m sorry you had to witness that.” Artie turned towards Akadian and nodded respectfully. “Your Highness.”
The boy that had been calling the girl’s name had broken free and was on his hands and knees at her charred feet. His shoulders rose and fell in silent sobs as the robed figures pulled her body down and tossed it onto a cart. The cruelty of it made Ambrose want to vomit.
“What is going on?” she asked furiously.
“I’ll explain later, I promise,” Artie told them in a hushed tone. “I can’t talk here. If you lot don’t have anywhere to stay tonight, might I offer my barn? I can explain more later. Meet me at the Traveler’s Tavern, it’s off the main street and down an alley to the left. My daughter works there, she’ll make sure you’re cared for in the meantime.”
Ambrose opened her mouth to protest but Akadian placed a hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do for her now.”
“Of courseyoudon’t care,” she bit out and was surprised to see her words actually wound him.
Akadian took his hand from her shoulder. “There’s nothing to do. It’s done.”
Artie glanced at them, his face set with deep, worried wrinkles. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
Podara huffed from behind them, anger etched into her features as she forced her way through the crowd that was already dispersing as the townspeople resumed their mindless shuffling. “I need a drink.”
* **
The Traveler’s Tavern was dimly lit with firelights along the wooden walls. Almost every table was full of beings aside from two, only one of them with enough room for Ambrose and her friends. A crew of sailors that could only have been pirates—although, admittedly, Ambrose had never met a pirate—occupied more than three long dining tables, elbow to elbow.
Gods,were they loud.
They drunkenly slammed their fists on the table as they roared with laughter. Stuffing their faces as grease from the bird they devoured ran down their mouths and they did nothing to clean themselves, only stuffed their faces further.
There were rumors around the palace of pirates. Ambrose had only heard stories—and who knew if they were even true—of a pirate queen with the force of a thousand ships and their captains at her command. A queen who could control the sea itself.
Ambrose caught the eye of a burly man with an unkempt black beard and the hair to match under a leather hat adorned with a bright red feather and a decorated curved sword at his side. A scar cut halfway down his face from brow to lip and unlike Podara’s, this wound had claimed his eye, an eye patch in place where it used to be. He wore many silver chains around his neck and rings as well—one in particular with a giant aquamarine stood out among them. His lips curled up into a smile and revealed that even two of his teeth matched the silver on his hands and neck. She quickly looked away and wondered if that was one of the captains she’d heard legends about.
To her surprise, two draconians sat at a table, sharing a pint between themselves. When they saw Akadian walk in, they rose from their seats, placed a closed fist over their hearts and bowed. Aside from the half-dragons, no one else bowed to the prince as their group took their seats at a table. It didn’t surprise Ambrose to see draconians, it did surprise her to see them… relaxing. Actually, it unsettled her but she did her best to ignore them.
Though no one else bowed, they certainly were watching them. The entire tavern fell silent as they scraped the legs of their chairs and sat. Theseats groaned beneath their weight from the countless nights of patrons that used them. The long table stretched enough for them all to sit comfortably, but none of them were comfortable. Not with what they’d seen that day.
A waitress skipped up to them, pad and quill in hand. “Well isn’t this a lovely surprise? Royalty? In our little town?” She was pretty, but a simple pretty. The kind that would make most men in there turn their heads but wouldn’t hold a candle to the women in the palace. She wore a simple dress with an apron covered in flour that said she helped in the back of the tavern as much as the front. She had a striking figure and rosy cheeks that made it appear as though she were always blushing and only she knew why. Her accent was slight for the farmlands, more like the accent in the city. A mixture of the two blending together into something new. Akadian didn’t respond, though she looked right at him. Unfazed by his rudeness she smiled at them. “It’s not every day the crown prince himself walks into our dingy tavern.”—Understatement—“My name’s Mary and I’ll be taking care of you. What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
The seven of them glanced at each other, none of them had much energy to speak when Felius clapped a hand on Ambrose’s back. “We’re taking this one up into the Fae Forest towards the northern border. It’s our duty to make sure she travels safely so, that’s what we’re gonna do.” He gave Ambrose a weak smile.
“How long are you staying here in town?” Mary asked, hand on her hip and blonde ponytail bouncing around her head as she spoke.
Ambrose cleared her throat but couldn’t clear her mind. “Just for tonight. A farmer offered us a place to stay. Artie Rowe, I believe?”
The young woman beamed and her face lit up with her smile as she tapped her quill excitedly. “Artie is my father! What a small world.” She looked down at Akadian who continued to ignore her. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you again tonight then, won’t I? Lucky me.” To the table’s surprise, Mary placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “Do all royals have such charming looks? Or are you something special?”
