Page 44 of Daughter of the Serpent

The man responsible for her whipping, was now dead.

"Do you really think they're back?" Sylvie asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she paused her reading. The scroll on nature spirits slipped from her fingers, rolling across the wooden table. After their meeting in the sacrificial chambers, Sylvie had followed Godvick back to his private library to continue in her daily studies. As her eyes scanned the myriads of scrolls that surround them, she couldn’t help but harbour a certain respect and awe. She always loved to read, to learn - yet so many of these parchments had been denied her. Such sacred knowledge was only for the skalds, the elders, and those who were deemed worthy of their truths. Godvick had been the only one to actually tell her about the gods and their histories, and other subjects that were deemed off limits, unless given permission from the high priest. It was known that the children of the light were to remain ignorant, and uninvolved in higher knowledge - so they could focus on service.

"We were fools to believe they’d truly gone," Godvick muttered, his brow furrowing.

"What does this mean for the people?" Sylvie asked, her heart tightening.

"It means we must be prepared." Godvick’s tone was grim, his hand rubbing his chin in thought. "Whether it’s the Karnikim or something worse, we need to be ready... and beg the gods for their favor and forgiveness."

A cold dread settled in Sylvie’s stomach, tightening like a vice. "Is there any way to defeat them?"

"Only by the gods' will," Godvick replied, his voice steady but somber. "No human has ever been strong enough. It was only the very first of our order, the chosen high priest, who wielded enough divine power to banish them."

"Do you think it’s possible?" Sylvie’s voice was a mix of hope and fear, her hands clenching the edge of the table.

Godvick’s eyes darkened. "Possible? Perhaps. But not without sacrifice."

“What about Rederick?”

"Rederick still holds significant power," Godvick began, pacing the room. "He’s been gathering those with magical ability, trying to prepare the village for what's to come. But magic… it’s become unpredictable, more selective as the years go by. We have less and less able to wield each year. You’ve seen the numbers at the Rebirth ceremony - only three survived the flame of judgement. That’s why they'll likely push your training forward, start the trials sooner than expected. We need those who can wield, we need as many Drengr as possible.”

Sylvie watched him, her own unease mirrored in his restless movements.

She exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. "What can we do in the meantime?"

"Practice," he replied, dropping heavily into the chair beside her. "And be wise. You need to hone your strengths, Sylvie, and do it quickly. The Karnikim are a threat, but the trials are what’s placed before you now. Place your focus there - that’s what’s most important regardless of what comes next."

She nodded, her mind racing. If it was the Karnikim, her village, her whole life as she knew it could be in danger.

How could she leave to face the trials, when so much was at stake?

Godvick leaned forward, his eyes finding hers.

“Leave your worries for tomorrow, young one.”

She nodded, though her heart wasn’t in it.

“Now.” Godvick cleared his throat before he resumed his pacing, hands clasped behind his back. “As you know, every year is different. the high priest will entreat the gods, and the trials will begin in the spring upon the appointed full moon. The challenges are to be kept a secret, but there are ways in which you can prepare. Your new teacher will be useful in that area."

“There will be many who will be trying to thin the competitionwell before the trials begin, and for that you must be watchful. Make friends, but do not trust. Always be on your guard.”

His eyes shifted lingering on her for a moment. “I fear your life is about to be much changed.”

Sylvie stared down at her lap, her thoughts tangling with each other. The more she learned of the trials and what would be required of her, the more sure she became that she wouldn’t survive them.

Sensing her turmoil, Godvick placed a hand on her shoulder. "Keep your faith, Sylvie. The gods have marked you for a reason. I can't help but wonder if it’s for a time like this."

Her gaze looked at him in surprise.

"You are more powerful than you know.” His voice was gentler now, a small smile tugging at his lips. "And one day, you will see that."

Her eyes followed after him as he then made his way across the room, to a corner where an old chest sat gathering dust.

She’d seen that chest for years but never thought much of it.

The click of a lock sounded, followed by the slow creak of the wooden lid. When Godvick turned, a flash of gold gleamed in his hand, and her jaw slackened.

"This," he whispered, "is the Dagger of Hallva, gifted by the All - Father himself."

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