Page 14 of Daughter of the Serpent

That was if she passed the tests at all.

It wasn’t a secret that the tests given by the temple and gods were not to be trifled with. Once one reached a certain potential they had to undergo further testing to examine their magical ability, if any, to channel and wield. In fact, many children of the light had lost their lives during the rituals due to magic’s judgment.

A nagging thought prodded at the recesses of her mind then –if found unworthy, this might be one of her last chances to truly live.

A shiver ran down her spine before she pushed such thoughts of her future away. “Wake me when it’s time.”

Tara nodded, her smile spreading ear to ear.

Heading towards her bed, Sylvie reached for her nightdress, the soft fabric cool against her fingers. Anticipatinga night full of forbidden activities, she settled onto her pillow, ready to close down her eyes for a moment's rest. With a cautious glance toward Tara, she reached for the parcel she had slipped from view. Carefully unwrapping it, her eyes were alight with curiosity.

What could Hjalmarr possibly want to give her?

There in the dim light revealed one of Molly’s honey cakes.

Chapter Three

Leather boots crunched into the snow covered earth as Sylvie and Tara descended deeper into the forest. Though spring was due, the winter clung to the land like a dying warrior that refused to let go at his designated time. While many met Mardova’s harsh winters with disdain, Sylvie found beauty in their severity. The cold seemed to slow time, inviting stillness and quiet, as if the world were being gently lulled to sleep, granting permission to surrender to slumber. Even in the dead of night, she could feel the ancient magic of the trees and the earth beneath its thick white blanket. The sleepy whispers of nature were becoming more alive, more alert, as the scent of spring began to thaw winter’s grip.

A cloud of steam bellowed from parted lips, as Sylvie scanned the woods around them, careful her steps did not disturb the creatures of the night that lurked and spun their spells after sundown. The magic of the nature spirits whispered around them despite the frigid chill, their hearts racing as they moved closer and closer toward the faded sounds of celebration.

“Gods help us, dare we wake Mother Farra.” Tara whispered,clutching her furs closer around her. “She is known not to be kind when one disturbs her slumber.”

The woodland goddess was said to entice the young and beautiful into her realm. If one lingered alone in the woods for too long, they risked falling under her spell, becoming ensnared in her service. Though Sylvie was sure such stories were to keep the wee babes abreast and out of the wood where they did not belong, certain creaks and broken branches kept her senses alert.

“Do you think it’s safe to conjure a flame?” Tara asked, her eyes bright as they met Sylvie’s.

“If we keep it dim,” Sylvie agreed, her voice steady despite the apprehension gnawing at her.

Closing her eyes she extended her hand, willing a flame to life. She did as she had been instructed countless times at the temple, envisioning a soft, flickering flame springing to life in her palm. She focused on the sensations - imagining the warmth, the heat, the crackle, willing the magic to rise at her command.

A moment passed, the only sensations were the gentle breeze and the soft warmth of Tara’s breath against her cheek as she gathered closer.

Frustrated, Sylvie opened her eyes to find her palm empty, the flame refusing to manifest.

“Maybe I should try,” Tara suggested, her voice gentle as she squeezed Sylvie’s shoulder in encouragement.

Sylvie nodded and stepped back, quickly masking her disappointment with a forced smile.

“It will come in time,” Tara reassured her.

She extended her own palm, and within seconds, a small flame flickered to life. She raised it, letting it float overhead to guide their path. As it rose further up into the air, it cast a soft glow on Tara’s face, bringing illumination to the satisfied smile that creased her cheeks, and the glint of determination in her eyes, highlighting the confidence and control she possessed. A feeling of longing filledSylvie, as Tara’s flame illuminated their way forward, cutting through the shadows.

If only she could channel magic like that.

Yet even the simplest of tasks took effort, and her magic - seemed to elude her more and more each day.

“It's pathetic that a supposed daughter of a god can't even conjure a simple flame.”The comment from her fellow classmate flashed through her mind, etched in her memory as a permanent fixture since her last channeling session. Though she was restricted from most magic, she had tried on multiple occasions to prove her worth, and those who doubted her - wrong. Yet such attempts had only surmounted her frail confidence, breaking it down a little further each time.

“Be patient, Sylvie.” Tara encouraged as if sensing her thoughts. “Besides, there are much better things to dwell on tonight.”

Sylvie still couldn't believe Tara had talked her into this for another time, yet she had to admit, every part of her was bursting with anticipation. Peering ahead, she could see the soft glow of a roaring fire through the trees in the distance, accompanied by the gentle murmurs of laughter and the clinking of drinking horns.

“Can you hear it?” Tara exclaimed, her body seeming to burst with excitement.

Sylvie smiled as she ducked her head to miss a branch glittering with ice, and held it back as Tara passed behind.

“We’re close now.”

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