They arrived at large gold doors. At a wave of her hand, a bright light shone from inside, almost blinding Cedric. He had blinked a couple of times to adjust his sight.
Nyxoria's voice boomed. "The 8th prince of Netheralis. Born of a mortal but the fates deemed him noble to walk amongst us."
He walked into the room, and everything was made of the finest gold and rarest stones. Several eyes were on him watching and before him sat a presence so majestic he almost fell on his knees. The same mismatched eyes, his body glowing like the sun.
"The trial begins."
Murmurs filled the room, he could feel their gaze, some of pure curiosity, others of disgust. Their words were clear; Cedric heard them all.
Why was a son born from a mortal found worthy to be a divine being? He should be like the rest who were humans with higher magic affinity.
They could not stand this one mistake of nature.
