Page 2 of Daughter of the Serpent

Reaching into his fighting leathers he pulled out a small blade, his fingers skirting around the cool metal like a familiar friend.

The immortal blade of Hallva.

The apprised gift awarded to him at the last ceremony for his valor.

The blessed weapon from the All - Father himself.

Without hesitation he sent it hurtling towards Malik. The blade cleaved into flesh, instantly separating his soul from his body in a puff of smoke. Malick’s face withered, his eyes now vacant and empty as his body slumped to the snow laden stone.

Ivar smiled, his eyes greedily eating up the sight, before Malik disintegrated completely - leaving no remaining trace. The blade landed to the ground with a clang, the magic of it engulfing it in white flame.

He reached for it just before the world began to whorl around him, the solidified surroundings quickly churning and blending into a stream of motion and energy.

A voice echoed through his thoughts.

“You are worthy.”

He was going back home.

He was going back to claim victory.

He was found worthy by the gods.

Chapter One

How many more would die today?

The thought slid unwelcome through Sylvie’s mind as she watched from afar with those gathered within the temple, helpless and silent. The newborn babe clutched in the embrace of the high priest had gone limp, yet Sylvie could still hear the echoes of its terror in her mind. Only a brief moment ago, its shrieks sounded like lightning, bouncing off the walls for what seemed like an eternity. She couldn't fathom that pain, not just for the young babe but the parents observing from a distance.

It was supposed to be an honor, a great gift to be given to the gods to ensure the people’s safety and prosperity. Even now, many who had gathered watched enthralled, their faces flashing with new hope as the blood threaded down and emptied into the golden chalice that awaited below, greedily eating up the sacred nectar, drip by drip.

It was a small price to pay to ensure their safety through the winter.

It was a small price to pay for the protection from the rumoured monsters beyond the wall.

At least that’s what the temple told them, year after year as theyripped younglings from their mother’s breast upon the celebration of rebirth, when the winter snows began to recede and the days began to grow long.

Without the gods protection, they would be defenseless.

Without the gods' grace, the people would starve.

Without complicit obedience to the temple’s demands, there was no hope.

The people’s very survival depended on the acute execution of the rules outlined by the priesthood - who determined the gods’ will.

Despite being aware of these realities, Sylvie couldn't help but cringe with each slice of the blade, fully aware that the ritual was far from over. Hands clasped tightly in her lap, she whispered her silent prayers to Hallva, the All - Father. Her eyes flashed to his towering statue stationed at the forefront of the temple, a sense of awe piercing her belly as she took in his one gleaming eye, a sole glittering garnet, gazing sternly down at the assembly. His two ravens, Vikkil and Hamil, carved from black wood, perched on his shoulders, their beady eyes gleaming in the torchlight.

May their deaths not be in vain.

May their innocent souls find their way to his great halls.

May he look after the families who have been left behind.

Hallva’s altar, a grand stone slab draped in crimson cloth, was adorned with offerings - finely crafted weapons, intricate carvings, written prayers, and now the golden chalice filled to the brim with youngling blood.

Would he be pleased with their sacrifice?

Her eyes skirted among the gathered spectators, a sea of rough - hewn faces, weathered by wind and sea, their eyes bright with anticipation. Men stood shoulder to shoulder, clothed in animal pelts and furs, hands resting on the hilts of their swords and axes. Women, draped in thickly woven wool, clutched their children close. And finally, the cluster of the elders at the head of the crowd, propped up on their overstuffed pillows and long backed chairs, eyes glittering with approval as they watched over the proceedings.

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