Page 105 of Daughter of the Serpent

Axel’s voice, low and dangerous, broke through her thoughts. “Remember, Sylvie. It’s a battlefield, even before the trials begin. You must decide who to trust, who to watch... and who to leave behind.”

Her pulse quickened, and she watched the swirling dust and flashing steel, knowing that every choice, every observation, could be the key to her survival - or her downfall.

“What do you see?” He asked, his eyes never leaving the ring.

“I don’t know what I’m looking for.” She admitted as she observed them.

“Try.” He said, urging her. “I cannot always provide the answers. Observe. Watch and learn.”

Before them Cora and Bjorn sparred, Cora with her javelin, and Bjorn with his ax. Cora was tall as she was skilled in battle, her body slender and agile, she seemed to move with an impressive speed. Bjorn was the opposite, all muscle and brawn. He had already faced down five others in the arena, rendering them all useless within a matter of seconds. Her eyes widened as she watched him, his powerful form just as imposing as his older brother’s had been. Flashes of that night of rebirth flickered through her mind - the older brother, standing among Baldr’s men, terror in his eyes as Axel’s blade cut through him. A chill ran through her as the thought crystallized: Bjorn wouldn’t hesitate to deliver her death when the opportunity presented itself.

“Cora can beat him if she stays swift.” Sylvie observed. “But if she falters, runs out of energy - Bjorn will have her.”

Bjorn seemed to know this too as he kept Cora moving. Though she dodged his blows, she was tiring, and Bjiorn was using this to his advantage.

“He’s tiring her out.” Axel said. “If he succeeds she will be no match to his strength. One knock and he can have her in the palm of his hand.”

“You underestimate her.” Sylvie bit out.

“Do I?” He asked, his eyes turning sharp, finally meeting her own.

“I think she can win.”

A half smile emerged on his lips. “I do not doubt her skill, only her ability to realize his game.”

Bjorn threw out taunts, insults at Cora, his hulking frame blocking the sun.

“See how he’s distracting her?” He observed. “How he tried to steer her anger, her attention. He wants her to make a mistake, make a move out of anger.”

Sylvie nodded. Bjorn was well known to get under people’s skin with his pride and his arrogance - it was enough to make anyone tip over the edge.

“Remember, anger can be a catalyst…” Axel’s voice slipped around her bones. “but it can also make one stupid.”

At the very moment Cora struck out with her javelin, Bjorn whirled in towards her at the right second, and while her arm was extended, took his opportunity. A scream pierced the air, Cora’s left hand now dangling from her wrist, weapon on the ground. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the dirt, her good hand instantly moving toward her injury. In one stride Bjorn was at her side, hand gripping into her hair, yanking her head back to look into his eyes as his ax met the soft skin of her throat.

“You’re mine, shieldmaiden.” His eyes gleamed at his victory, and the crowd thrived.

Sylvie scoffed, as she turned away, her stomach dipping at the thought of Cora’s wounds, but also Bjorn’s cruelty. “I thought this was just a training match.”

Blood mixed with dust in the air, and she winced as another fighter hit the ground with a sickening thud. Axel’s gaze flickedto her, his lip curling slightly. “This is exactly why I brought you here. You’ve been hiding behind temple walls too long, sheltered from the reality of what’s at stake.” His words cut into her, digging at her insecurities and making her stomach twist. “The competition for the trials has already begun. Anyone planning to enter now, has an agenda. It’ll turn deadly long before the trials even start.” He paused, letting the truth settle between them. “Today, anyone who steps into that ring has already staked their life, their body. They’re out for blood - to thin the competition before it officially begins.”

Sylvie’s chest tightened as she scanned the circle, watching her fellow delegates fight like their lives depended on it - because, as Axel made clear, they did.

Haldor, battered but victorious, stood catching his breath across the ring, while Thyra, though bruised, managed to hold her ground.

It didn’t seem fair that she remained safe outside the ring, that she also did not take the risk.

Her fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms. The sight of her friends, her kin, fighting for their lives made her decision snap into place.

“Let me take my chance.” The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them.

Axel stilled beside her.

“Let me prove myself,” she pressed, her voice harder now.

He finally turned, his eyes studying her face, as if searching for any hint of hesitancy.

He glanced away. “You’re not ready.”

---