The Trials of Ophelia (The Curse of Ophelia Book 3), page 1
The Trials of Ophelia
The Curse of Ophelia Series
Nicole Platania
Contents
Books by Nicole Platania
Author’s Note
Pronunciation Guide
Prologue
I. Bia
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
II. Nike
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
III. Zelos
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
IV. Kratos
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Epilogue
Teaser
Acknowledgments
Author bio
Books by Nicole Platania
The Curse of Ophelia Series
The Curse of Ophelia
The Shards of Ophelia
The Trials of Ophelia
Copyright © 2024 by Nicole Platania
Stars Inked Press, Inc.
6320 Topanga Cyn Blvd. Ste. 1630 #1033
Woodland Hills, CA 91367
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: nicoleplataniabooks@gmail.com.
First paperback edition March 2024
© Cover design: Franziska Stern - www.coverdungeon.com - Instagram: @coverdungeonrabbit
Developmental Edit by Kelley Frodel
Copyedited by Grey Moth Editing
Proofread by K. Morton Editing Services
Map design by Abigail Hair
ISBN 979-8-9862704-7-0 (Paperback)
ISBN 979-8-9862704-6-3 (ebook)
www.nicoleplatania.com
Created with Vellum
To those who feel torn and broken inside
and worry that they’re not good enough.
You are more than enough, just as you are.
Author’s Note
This book contains depictions of alcohol/drug dependency;
blood, gore, and violence; discussion of sexual assault (not on page); recounted child abuse; torture; PTSD; and some sexual content. If any of these may be triggering for you, please read carefully or feel free to contact the author for further explanation.
Pronunciation Guide
Characters who are crossed out were deceased prior to the beginning of The Trials of Ophelia.
Mystique Warriors
Ophelia Alabath (she/her), Mystique Revered: Oh-feel-eeya Al-uh-bath
Malakai Blastwood (he/him): Mal-uh-kye Blast-wood
Tolek Vincienzo (he/him): Tole-ick Vin-chin-zoh
Cypherion Kastroff (he/him): Sci-fear-ee-on Cast-Rahf
Jezebel Alabath (she/her): Jez-uh-bell Al-uh-bath
Akalain Blastwood (she/her): Ah-kuh-lane Blast-wood
Alvaron (he/him), Master of Coin: Al-vuh-ron
Annellius Alabath, (he/him): Uh-nell-ee-us Al-uh-bath
Bacaran Alabath (he/him), Second to the Revered: Bah-kuh-ron Al-uh-bath
Collins (he/him): Call-ins
Danya (she/her), Master of Weapons & Warfare: Dawn-yuh
Larcen (he/him), Master of Trade: Lare-sen
Lucidius Blastwood (he/him), Revered: Loo-sid-ee-yus Blast-wood
Lyria Vincienzo (she/her), Master of Weapons and Warfare: Leer-ee-uh Vin-chin-zoh
Marxian (he/him): Mark-shen
Mila Lovall (she/her), Mystique General: Mee-lah Love-all
Missyneth (she/her), Master of Rites: Mis-sin-ith
Tavania Alabath (she/her): Tuh-vahn-yuh Al-uh-bath
Engrossian Warriors
Kakias (she/her), Engrossian Queen: Kuh-kye-yus
Barrett (he/him), Engrossian Prince: Bair-it
Dax (he/him): Dax
Victious: Vik-shuss
Mindshapers
Aird (he/him), Mindshaper Chancellor: Air-d
Ricordan (he/him): Rik-kor-din
Trevaneth (he/him): Treh-vuh-neh-th
Zaina (she/her): Zay-nuh
Bodymelders
Brigiet (she/her), Bodymelder Chancellor: Bri-jeet
Esmond (he/him), apprentice: Ez-min-d
Gatrielle (he/him): Gah-tree-elle
Starsearchers
Titus (he/him), Starsearcher Chancellor: Tie-tuhs
Vale (she/her), apprentice: Veil
Cyren Marvana (they/them), Starsearcher General: Sci-ren Mar-vaw-nuh
Seawatchers
Ezalia Ridgebrook (she/her), Seawatcher Chancellor: Eh-zale-ee-uh Ridg-brook
Amara Ridgebrook (she/her), Seawatcher General: Uh-mar-uh Ridg-brook
Andrenas (they/them): An-dreh-nuss
Chorid (he/him): Core-ihd
Leo Ridgebrook (he/him): Lee-oh
Seron Ridgebrook (he/him): Sair-on Ridg-brook
Soulguiders
Meridat (she/her), Soulguider Chancellor: Mare-ih-daat
Erista Locke (she/her), apprentice: Eh-ris-tuh Lock
Quilian Locke (he/him), Soulguider General: Quil-ee-en Lock
Non-warrior characters
Santorina Cordelian (she/her), human: San-tor-ee-nuh Kor-dee-lee-in
Aimee (she/her), Storyteller: Ay-me
Lancaster (he/him), fae: Lan-kaster
Mora (she/her), not specified: Mor-uh
Animals and Creatures
Astania, Uh-ston-ya
Calista: Kuh-liss-tuh
Elektra: Ill-ectra
Erini: Ih-ree-nee
Ombratta: Ahm-brah-tuh
Sapphire: Sah-fire
Places
Ambrisk: Am-brisk
Banix: Ban-ix
Brontain: Brawn-tane
Caprecion: Kuh-pree-shun
Damenal: Dom-in-all
Fytar Trench: Fie-tar Trehn-ch
Gallantia: Guh-lawn-shuh
Gaveral: Gav-er-all
Palerman: Powl-er-min
Pthole: Tholl
Thorentil: Thor-in-till
Turren: Tur-in
Valyn: Val-in
Vercuella: Vair-kwella
Xenovia: Zin-oh-vee-yuh
Angels of the Gallantian Warriors
Bant (he/him), Prime Engrossian Warrior: Bant
Damien (he/him), Prime Mystique Warrior: Day-mee-in
Gaveny (he/him), Prime Seawatcher: Gav-in-ee
Ptholenix (he/him), Prime Bodymelder: Tholl-en-icks
Thorn (he/him), Prime Mindshaper: Thorn
Valyrie (she/her), Prime Starsearcher: Val-er-ee
Xenique (she/her), Prime Soulguider: Zen-eek
Gods of Ambrisk’s Pantheon
Aoiflyn (she/her), Fae Goddess: Eef-lyn
Artale (she/her), Goddess of Death: Are-tall
Gerenth (he/him), God of Nature: Gair-inth
Lynxenon (he/him), God of Mythical Beasts: Leen-zih-non
Moirenna (she/her), Goddess of Fate & Celestial Movements: Moy-ren-uh
Thallia (she/her), Witch Goddess of Sorcia: Thall-ee-uh
Prologue
Damien
Many centuries ago
“What have you done?” Fear turned my words low and gravelly, the night nearly swallowing them.
One moment, I was trapped in that Spirits-forsaken chamber that reeked of stifled power. The next, I was greedily gulping down the scent of rain-soaked rock, blooming cyphers, and freedom.
He did it, then. He found and took the agent.
This should have been a moment of victory, but his next words dripped with vitriol. “I’ve learned the truth.”
Four words that splintered my entire mission, unleashing a tidal wave of failure. The key had been dragged on a rope before me. But every time I took a step toward it, it was yanked back again. Elusive and wanting, but I had it.
I. Had. it.
Had him.
I had allowed my own feathers to shed because I was so certain. He was supposed to be the resolution, the absolution of sins stacked against us. Instead, he chose to become our greedy undoing.
As I clenched my hand at my side, my power flourishing within me, I realized that left me with an atrocious choice. It went against everything my eternal presence signified, but things had been altered by the hands of fate, that brutal mist of being.
At the thought, my unbeating heart pulsed with remorse.
Imagined, I reminded myself. Your heart does not beat.
Was there a way I would not have to do this?
But he said he knew the truth and declared it with such disdain. His fate was already sealed, then.
“You are certain the rumors you have heard hold true?” Worry gnawed behind my ribs, tightening my lungs. Though I did not need breath, it was restrictive. If the chosen did not know everything, though, maybe we could reignite the path. Maybe I could convince him otherwise…
But when he lifted his chin, that magenta promise glinted. He knew it all.
“I wish the wars of eternal beings were mere rumors,” he said.
And prophecy shattered around us with the weight of a thousand bursting stars. His skin glowed, subtle and faint, reminding me of a light I had not seen in centuries as it poured forth. Grief clawed through me, shrinking my vision, but this power was not nearly as potent, untainted, or burning as that lost source.
This was the sacrificed essence of the seven, locked away for millennia.
Wind whipped around our shoulders, the breeze burnished with failure and imbued with the energy of my mountains, singing a disjointed melody along my bones. I gritted my teeth against it. The shift of ether smothered the desperation mounting within me.
Discordant magic ripped through me.
Shredding.
Tearing.
Taking all I was.
I fought it, bearing down on the long dormant power that tried to wrench from me. This was not as planned…this was not…
Panting, I crashed to the ground across from him, two promised beings on their knees at the bequest of magic. I willed the force breaking from me back where it belonged.
But it was a stranger beneath my own skin.
As it trickled from my grasp, I made that last move. I shot it out, wrapped it around the greedy warrior. And I pulled.
Pulled until sinew and tendons, blood and bones bent to my will.
Crimson leaked from his nose, his ears.
“I am not your puppet,” he spat, voice caught in the wind. It swirled around us with dying leaves and flowers and signs of how close we had been. Puppet, puppet, puppet. “Nor am I a fool.”
“You are no puppet,” I said through clenched teeth, “but you become a greater fool each day.” Gods, it should not have been this way. If I had only seen the signs.
Blood poured over his chin, the stream growing thicker. His skin paled, but it was not fear entering his eyes. It was triumph. And that chilled me enough to loosen the grasp on his being.
“What have you done?” I gasped. My light dimmed.
“Brother…” A hoarse whisper. Sad eyes. “What have you?”
First, an echoing silence filled my mind. Then—an explosion.
With a roar, I ripped back the reins of my magic. Rocks shattered, peaks trembled, trees swayed. The domain bent to my will.
The warrior’s palms slapped into dirt. His coughs wracked the air, each puncturing the force of wind around us until all that was audible was those dragging, wet heaves.
Blood splattered earth.
Promise seeped into dust.
And he collapsed before me, still in a pool of his own sacred blood. The light we had both been emitting flickered out until only the ghostly-silver glow of the moon remained.
I toiled through the shocked grief that swarmed me as I stared at those sightless magenta eyes. I had no choice. This was not my fault. The warrior brought about this end.
Pressing my palms into the dug-up earth, I inhaled the iron-tinged air, reminding myself he had done this, not me. The warrior had been greedy, and that was the story legends would spread.
As I worked to persuade myself of it, the wind calmed. The earth began restoring itself, and I convinced myself he had been a ruin of Angels.
But accusatory magenta eyes swam behind my lids.
What have you?
I failed, that was what I had done. I would not fail with the next chosen.
Part One
Bia
Chapter One
Ophelia
My heart had broken so many times, I thought it would have stopped beating by now. Surely one organ could only take so much pain before it decided to quit. In the two months since the Battle of Damenal, a hole had formed behind my ribs, widening each day, swallowing up pieces of me. That cavity echoed with a dark void, a blade swiped clean between my bones.
Slice. Puncture. Bleed.
It was the rhythm I operated to, and I masked my pain with work. Restoring what had been damaged throughout Damenal when Queen Kakias had launched an attack on the city atop the peaks. On that midnight when she defied the bounds of magic and used my blood for an unnatural immortality ritual.
That rhythm was how I found myself at the grand set of stone stairs that used to lead to the Sacra Temple, the largest in Damenal, located in the Sacred Quarter in the western quadrant of our divine city. The site of the blast that killed my father and the rest of the Mystique Council on Daminius.
The explosion meant for me.
Because I was supposed to be in the temple that day.
I knelt before the cracked stone, brushing my fingers across the dusty edge of the lowest stair. Scraping my nail against one of the divots where a chunk had been blown away. Not to clear it, just to feel it. To absorb a touch of the vibrant lives this spot had seen—the stories the temple had contained. My knees dug into the gravel sprinkled at the base, and I let each piece imprint itself against my skin like those losses imprinted themselves on my soul.
Much of the debris had been cleaned away. I’d organized the restoration myself, but it was leagues from being complete. Still, there was a method to the chaos now.
Stacks of stone had been gathered based on their usability. Some would be carted off to the battlefront. At the border of the southern mountains, between Mystique and Mindshaper territory, a war mounted. Lyria Vincienzo had taken up the position of Master of Weapons and Warfare, having been the former commander, Danya’s, only apprentice. She now led our alliance forces against the barrage from the Engrossian-Mindshaper army.
The supplies we sent would be used for catapults and securing trails through the snow winter would bring. My friends and I would leave Damenal to join them in a few days, despite my heart remaining in this city.
