Page 117 of Daughter of the Serpent
Axel had said he would meet her there, and she clung to thethought with equal parts relief and trepidation. Relief because his absence granted her a moment to steady her swirling thoughts. Trepidation because she couldn’t escape the invisible thread tightening between them, a cord pulling taut with each passing day. The tension was palpable, electric - an unspoken force she didn’t know how to name. It was like whenever she was around him her heart, her body - it all unraveled. Whether she liked it or not, she was drawn to him, needed him - and that truth had become more apparent than ever the past few days.
Her heart had felt cracked in half with the thought of him deserting her, rejecting her like the others - yet wasn’t that what he had done right before she had left only an hour ago? Hadn’t he still turned her away when he saw the yearning in her eyes?
Her lips parted as she exhaled slowly, in an attempt to calm her unrelenting thoughts. She told herself it was the sacrifices ahead that unsettled her, the weight of what awaited her in the coming days. But her heart betrayed her, beating faster at the thought of Axel’s dark, piercing gaze.
He felt it too; she knew he did. The way his eyes lingered a second too long, the way his words, though sharp, always held a note of something unsaid. The way he told her he would have cut through Bjorn and all the rest of them to save her.
The thought alone made her body heat.
Yet, he kept his distance. Always just out of reach.
And each step he took away was a blade slicing deeper into the fragile hope she refused to name.
Sylvie forced herself to focus on the clearing ahead, the flicker of ceremonial fires coming into view. The soft hum of the gathering voices swelled, yet she felt isolated, adrift in her thoughts. She let her fingers brush against the bark of a nearby tree, grounding herself as she neared the heart of the sacred grounds, yet she couldn’t linger long. Around her, guards were stationed along the path, and drums and music reverberated a haunting melody through the air.
All had gathered to seek the gods' blessings for the trials ahead.The elders draped in ceremonial robes and furs encircled the space where the ancient stone and trees weaved together, and Sylvie recognized it from the rune casting all those months ago. Torches stood tall from dug earth, the flames casting shadows over the faces of the gathered crowd. They murmured softly, their voices a hushed symphony that echoed through the night.
At the heart of the clearing stood the erected altar, made of stone and carved with runes. The elders, draped in their crimson robes, stood in silence, as high priest Rederick stood in front, his arm raised towards the heavens, his voice echoing through the night air.
"O' mighty gods of land and sea," his voice boomed, resonating with power. "We beseech thee, grant us thy favor and protection as we embark upon the sacred voyage to Kallithea, the land of the gods!”
Sylvie watched, her heart pounding in her chest, as the elders offered up their offerings to the gods. Rich scents wafted through the air, mingling with the smoke of burning herbs and flowers. The aroma filled her senses, enveloping her in a cocoon of latent energy.
High Priest Rederick's voice rose in supplication, his words a plea for blessings and safety for those who would face the trials ahead. His eyes gleamed with fervent devotion, his every gesture filled with intention.
Sylvie felt a shiver run down her spine as she listened, the weight of the moment pressing down upon her. She closed her eyes, reaching out with her senses to the unseen forces that surrounded them. She could feel the ancient power that pulsed through the earth, the whispered prayers of generations past echoing through the night.
“We beseech the gods now with our offerings of flesh and blood, in our gratitude in return to our candidates' safe return.”
He raised his knife, already wet with the blood of the animals offered. “Our most prized and precious gift,” His eyes slithered to Sylvie, and his eyes filled with a certain knowing that made her heart stop.
A commotion shook the crowd, a woman’s scream piercing the air, slicing terror through Sylvie’s soul. A wave of unexplainablehorror swept through her body as Rederick smiled, his eye flickering with a certain malice.
Something wasn’t right.
Something was terribly wrong.
“Bring her forth!” Rederick’s voice echoed out, over the chaos.
A woman clawed at the men who held her, binding her hands as they struggled to contain her. She thrashed against them, her hair flying wildly. “You cannot do this!” she screamed, the crowd instantly silenced by her display.
“The god’s have spoken!” Rederick’s voice. “Bring her!”
Sylvie felt sick, her body lurching at the sound.
Her mother’s voice.
Her father pushed through the crowd, coming to her mother’s side. His hand shot out, slapping her across her face, knocking her head back with a sharp crack. “Get a hold of yourself woman!” He demanded, “This is for the gods!”
“My baby…” she croaked, her head bobbing low at her defeat. “Not mybaby…!”
Sylvie’s heart stopped.
Mave.
Her cry sounded out among the crowd, as one of the high priests handed her sister into Rederick’s awaiting arms.
Instantly she was in action, her limbs spurring into life, fighting through the crowd. “Make way!”
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