Bond of Fire and Shadow: An Epic Romantic Fantasy (Vengeful Gods and Mortal Thrones Book 1) by Aurelia Bell

Author:Aurelia Bell [Bell, Aurelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-12-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

The great hall of Kaelthar was ablaze with golden fire, its warmth spreading across the towering stone walls. The carvings of phoenixes and flames etched into the marble seemed alive in the flickering light, their wings stretching toward the vaulted ceiling. Above, the enchanted dome revealed the starlit night sky, serene and untouchable above the chaos of the Trials.

Twenty of us sat at the long table now, the survivors of the Trial of Fire. Dorian and I had entered together, silent and battered, but I’d claimed a seat far from him without a word. The two empty chairs at the far end loomed heavy in my mind, stark reminders of those who hadn’t returned.

The Arbiter stood at the head of the table, their robes reflecting the light of the flames, their mask alive with faint shifting patterns. They raised a gloved hand, and the murmurs around the table fell silent.

“Champions,” they began, their voice calm and commanding, “tonight, we honor the trial you have survived.”

Their masked gaze swept across us, lingering briefly on the empty seats at the far end of the table.

“We mourn those who fell,” they said, their voice softening slightly. “Let us not forget the cost of this trial—their strength, their courage.”

The air thickened, heavy with solemnity. The faces of the fallen—blurred by smoke and flames—flashed unbidden in my mind. I hadn’t known their names, but I remembered their cries as the fire consumed them.

“And to those who could not complete the task,” the Arbiter continued, their tone sharp once more, “they have been dismissed. There is no place at this table for failure.”

Only seven chairs. The reminder was clear. To endure meant victory—or nothing at all.

A moment of silence stretched across the hall before the Arbiter’s voice lifted again. “But to those who remain, you have proven yourselves worthy—for now. Tonight, we celebrate.”

At their words, the table transformed. Plates appeared in a rush of magic, the gold-rimmed dishes laden with roasted meats, steaming vegetables, spiced fruits, and delicate pastries glittering with sugar. Decanters of rich red wine and golden mead filled goblets as if poured by unseen hands. The hall, so heavy moments before, seemed to shift with the promise of comfort.

The champion from the Fire Province rose suddenly, his fiery-red cloak billowing slightly as he raised his goblet high. His booming voice echoed through the hall.

“To the flames that tested us!” he roared. “And to the strength of those who rise! May we burn brighter still!”

Cheers erupted around the table, goblets clinking as champions leaned into the celebration. Even I felt a flicker of something—relief, maybe—as I reached for the wine.

But before I could take a sip, the hearth roared to life, its flames rising high and golden. A single flame broke free, drifting through the air like a living thing. It hovered, its glow bright and pulsing, before splitting into seven smaller flames.

Each flame floated toward a champion, hovering for a moment before dipping low. As it descended, the fire burned away to reveal a small leather bag, its dark surface singed faintly at the edges.

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