Page 91 of Daughter of the Serpent

Despite this truth, parent’s embraced or shook the hands of their children, the pride evident in their eyes. To be chosen and offered this chance of glory and anointment not only honored their families, but brought pride to their family name.

As Sylvie waded through the crowd, she felt her heart begin to race. She had tried all these years to release attachment, to let go of any hope of her family's approval or pride - yet deep down she couldn’t deny an ember still glowed.

Maybe they would come.

Maybe, they could put aside all differences before she sailed off to her likelydeath.

Smooth fingers grasped her right shoulder, and with the touch she closed her eyes.

Could it really be?

Sylvie's breath caught in her throat as she turned. The figure that met her gaze was unmistakable - the one had seen a million times in her dreams.

There her mother stood, her face etched with lines and eyes brimming with tears.

For a moment, they stood frozen, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of emotions too vast to articulate. Alma reached out, her fingers trembling as they brushed against Sylvie’s cheek, tracing the contours of a face so much like her own.

"Oh Sylvie," her mother whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "My daughter..."

Tears welled in Sylvie's eyes as she pressed herself into her mother's embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around her. In that moment, she didn’t think nor did she care what others around her may see in her vulnerability -her mother had come.

She wouldn’t let anyone take this moment away from her.

In an instant the years of separation melted away, replaced by only the pure intensity of the moment.

"You came," Sylvie choked out, her voice thick.

"Of course I did," her mother’s voice echoed in her ear despite the revelry and the music that surrounded them, her words a balm to Sylvie's soul. "I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long.”

Pulling back, her mother's hand reached toward her, gently threaded through the unbound strands of her hair before tucking them neatly behind her ear. The simple gesture, so tender and intimate, was enough to make her almost unravel. A tender touch, a nurturing gesture of love - stretched out like a healing balm to her wounded spirit.

Tears welled up in Sylvie's eyes, unbidden yet welcomed.

For so long, Sylvie had tried to imagine what it might have been like to be cared for, to be held close, and cherished, especially by her.The warmth of her touch, the softness of her caress, the unconditional love a mother should hold for their child - and there it was, all wrapped up with the simple touch to her face and lock of her hair, instantly healing something that had been buried deep beneath the surface she had forgotten it existed at all.

A glimmer of hope flickered to life within her heart. Perhaps, amidst the pain and brokenness of their past, there was still room for something more.

“There hasn't been a day that's passed when you weren't in my thoughts."

Sylvie’s hand trembled, her heart open and vulnerable. Clutching her mother’s hands, she squeezed them tight. “I am so grateful you are here.”

“I didn’t come entirely alone,” She said, her voice uplifting as her lips curved into a subtle smile. Turning she signaled someone in the crowd, and her nursemaid appeared holding the wrapped bundle in her arms. "There's someone I want you to meet,"

Taking the child from the maid’s arms she extended her outward toward Sylvie, placing her into her arms. "This is your sister, Mave.”

Sylvie's voice trembled as she whispered the name, the syllables rolling off her tongue like a sacred spell. Two blue eyes like that of her mother stared back at her under a patch of blonde curls, her round cheeks folding into an amused smile. As the baby's innocent gaze met hers, Sylvie felt her heart swell.

As the newborn lay nestled in her arms, under the soft glow of the firelight, Sylvie found herself challenged. As a child of the light, she should hold no emotion, no connection, or feel a strong bond to anything but her faith - yet, as she gazed down at her sister's cherubic face, cradled against her chest, she felt something stir within her soul.

A swell of emotion surged, catching her off guard with its intensity.

She had a sister.

She had a family.

Mave's presence stirred revelation, an awakening to the knowledge that some ties, even the temple couldn’t cut away.

"She's exquisite," Sylvie gasped.

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