Seeds of Sorrow (Immortal Realms Book 1)

It was a dance, Eden told herself. A dance that her life could depend on. Tulok had shown her the moves repeatedly, and all she had to do was copy them as he advanced on her. Eden slid her foot forward, thrusting one of her arms out at Tulok, but he swept her arm to the side and used her momentum to pull her past him. In one swift move, he twisted and kicked her leg out from under her. She was falling one moment, and the next, she was in his arms and facing him.

Eden grinned up at him. “Thank you for not letting me fall on my face.”

Tulok leaned back and lifted Eden to her feet with ease. “I have no desire to meet my end.” He bowed his head.

“You still might.” Dhriti jabbed him in the side with her elbow, but it was followed by a laugh.

“No one is dying.” Eden swept hair out of her face. Rebellious strands of red blew into her eyes and mouth. “Although, that isn’t what you showed me yesterday, Tulok.” Eden frowned. She had been anticipating the same routine, but he had improvised instead.

Tulok shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “Always expect the unexpected?”

Eden arched a brow and laughed. “Okay. Noted for next time.”

Tulok bowed. “Always a pleasure, my lady. You did well.”

Eden turned to leave, but Channon approached, his arms folded across his chest. He glanced toward Tulok, then to Eden before he leaned in toward her. “All right. The next hit you get on Tulok, I’ll personally give you more than a little butter knife, my lady.”

She eyed her hip, where the dagger was hidden beneath the tailed waistcoat. “All for landing a hit on him?”

Channon only lifted an eyebrow in response.

Eden had sparred with Tulok, had even successfully connected blows to him, but she wasn’t certain she wanted to hit Tulok, or even if she wanted a weapon larger than the dagger. But it felt like a challenge, and she wasn’t one to balk.

Channon nodded. “You know what to do.”

Eden was already exhausted from their morning routines. Sweat collected at her hairline and trickled down her neck. Her muscles ached from pulling, pushing, tumbling, and repeating the process.

She flexed her fingers at her side. “Fine.”

Channon grinned and lowered his arms. “Tulok, Her Grace would like one more match with you.”

Tulok turned on his heel. Delight warmed his tanned features. “Of course.” The warm friendly smile remained on his face even as he readied to launch into action.

Eden was at a great disadvantage in the first place. She wasn’t a wolf or a creature of the night, and even in the golden moon’s brighter rays, it wasn’t like the light of the sun or even a well-lit room. Shadows played tricks on her eyes, made movements seem sluggish. She simply had to focus and trust her instincts. At least that’s what she told herself.

And so, she struck out with a fist, which was blocked by Tulok. But this time, Eden took notice of how he blocked. When she struck out with her other hand, he did the same. If she lifted a foot, he could unbalance her, so she kept her feet planted firmly.

Tulok lashed out in a controlled movement, which Eden pushed aside. If he was pulling his punches, there was no way she stood a chance against him. But what he had said before . . . it resonated in her mind.

Wit and defense have a place together.

The wind picked up, and the sound of nearby trees creaking cut through her thoughts as she circled him. Eden possessed a measly amount of combat skills, but what she did know was nature, specifically that of flora. Prior to beginning, there had been no rules stating she couldn’t use her magic. She simply hadn’t because she wanted to learn hand-to-hand.

“Are you done already?” Tulok teased.

Eden wasn’t finished. She held up her hands and rushed forward. Tulok pulled her forward, but as Channon suggested, she found her center again and crouched low. She tapped into her well of magic, the warm heat of it flooding her body as the ground beneath Tulok shifted and bucked. It was enough to offset his balance, but it didn’t stop there. Vines from the ground slithered toward his feet, and as he shook them off, Eden launched forward and struck out with her palm, clipping his chin.

The moment she did, she gasped and recoiled. “I’m sorry!”

Tulok stumbled back, surprised, but then laughed.

Eden’s cheeks warmed. “Expect the unexpected?” It hadn’t occurred to her before that she could, in fact, use her ability to call on the flora as a weapon.

“That is exactly right.” Tulok shook his finger at her and stepped away from the vines. “If anyone ever attacks you, do that.” He motioned toward the retreating vines.

“Well done,” Channon said from behind Eden. “You’ve earned yourself a new weapon.”

Tulok glanced between Eden and Channon. “What?”

“I will fill you in. I’m sure Her Grace has other matters to attend to?”

Eden nodded and took it as her chance to escape before she was dragged into another match. Truth be told, her lungs burned from gulping too much air, and her muscles were in need of a hot soak in the tub.

Even the walk up the stairs felt as though her feet were weighted. She paused when she heard what sounded like sniffling, then mumbling.

Ever the curious one, Eden finished climbing the stairs and listened for the sound again. Every sniffle, every whine, drew her closer, until she spotted the flickering figure of a child. She had grown accustomed to the way certain humans’ figures flickered in and out of a tangible state. The poor child was a revenant. But where had it come from?

Eden approached slowly, until she turned a corner and saw the little girl’s features in the brightly lit hall. “Are you lost?” Eden called to her. “I can help you.”

“I don’t know.” The girl sucked in a sob. “I’m scared, and it won’t stop pulling me.” She twisted, but her body continued to move down the hall.

What was going on? Eden didn’t want to worry the child any more, so she followed along. “It’s okay. We will go together. My name is Eden. What is yours?”

“Niamh.”

“I like that name. Where do you live?”

“Mointeach.”

Eden blinked. She wasn’t familiar with the name, but since it was neither from Lucem nor, as far as she knew, Andhera, that left Midniva. She frowned. Draven had mentioned how bad it was in Midniva, and Niamh was potentially a victim of whatever tragedies were unfolding there.

“Tell me of Mointeach, I’ve never been. I’m from Lucem, and I don’t get out very much.” The small chatter was enough to soothe the girl, and before long, they were entering the throne room.

Eden stopped in her tracks as they entered. To her surprise, as well as amazement, a sea of individuals filled the room, and they flickered just as Niamh did.

“Can you hold my hand?” Niamh pushed closer to Eden’s thigh, and when she solidified enough, her sleek blond hair tumbled into her face as she pressed her cheek against Eden’s leg.

“I’ll hold your hand, just make sure to squeeze really tightly.”

Eden reached for the girl’s hand as she walked into the room and slid between the revenants. If it weren’t for Niamh asking questions at her side, she would have focused more on what was being said. Draven’s voice carried in the room rather coolly.

When she emerged from the throng, Draven finished his dialogue and met her gaze, then peered down at the child. He motioned toward a section of the room, and Eden lowered herself.

“There are more children over there. Why don’t you go make friends? I’ll be right over.” Eden nodded and smiled encouragingly.

“This is how the revenants come to Andhera,” Draven supplied before Eden even had the chance to ask. “They’re spelled to come here, and when they arrive, they learn the laws, and Pendentes”—he paused, turning to motion to the drawn man behind him—“escorts them to their new life, and the children to whichever orphanage has room. You may remain here, but I can’t be delayed.”

Eden nodded and swiftly made her way to the handful of children, who she distracted with games. But even as she played, she listened to the process of deciding where the revenants would end up, and what their new life would become. It struck Eden as chilly, withdrawn, and so impersonal. This was their second chance at a life, or as close to one as they would get. Not everyone needed to be coddled, but there were more refined ways of dealing with delicate matters.

Eventually, the room emptied, and all that were left were the children. Draven had long since disappeared from the room, but Eden had wanted to wish the group of children farewell.

Eden embraced Niamh and a little boy who had attached himself to her. “I will see you soon. I always visit the orphanage.” She released them into Pendentes’ care.

She combed her fingers along the ends of her hair and toyed with it as she left the throne room. As tired as she felt, she was now fueled by a new wave of adrenaline that came with ideas. If she were to leave in a few months, she could at least make herself useful and perhaps relieve Draven of some of his burdens.

In the corridor, she saw Seurat ahead and rushed up to him. “Is Draven in his study?”

“No, my lady, he’s actually in the room adjacent to it, the door to the left.” Seurat bowed his head, but not before Eden caught the quirk of a smile on his lips.

There was little time to wonder about the expression. Eden opened the door left of his study. “Draven, I was thinking. After witnessing . . .  She dragged her eyes up to his form, which was situated in a steaming hot bath. Whatever speech she’d had planned withered in her throat as she took in his glistening bare chest, one she remembered the feel of all too well.

Draven shifted in the tub; his head fell backward as he stared up at the ceiling. “As you were saying, Eden?” He sat upright, inclining his head.

“It can wait. I didn’t realize you were bathing I . . . Seurat told me you were in here and I . . . ”

Draven pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “I’ll deal with him later. But please continue, Eden.”

With her thoughts still buzzing, Eden moved closer to Draven. “After spending the majority of the day with the revenants, I think I know what I can do to help while I’m here.” She told him of what she thought of the process and what she had seen. “It should be more welcoming . . . and I don’t mean crafting flower crowns for everyone. This isn’t an easy process. So why not be warmer, softer, and be a guide, not a dictator?”

Draven dragged his hand along his jaw and rested his chin in his palm. “If that’s something that interests you, and could potentially keep you out of trouble, I can arrange for you and Pendentes to discuss changes and allow for you to oversee the process.”

Now that the words had tumbled free, Eden felt her exhaustion creeping back in. And she wondered if she’d heard him right, but he had mentioned her knack for finding trouble.

Eden stepped forward, her brow furrowing. “Really?”