Page 15 of Daughter of the Serpent

Sylvie watched Tara navigate the snow, lifting her skirts to protect the delicate fabric of her new gown, the gleaming sapphire blue flashing its vibrant color beneath the hem of her cloak. Despite herself, envy trickled through her. What she would give to look like Tara did in that dress, a glowing pearl encased in silvery blue, her long amber hair spilling down her shoulders in rich waves. The dress was bold, iridescent, and eye capturing - a gown fit for a fine woman of status. SomethingSylvie was clearly not.

Tara had likewise advised Sylvie against the gown, knowing its boldness would overwhelm her. The green suited her better - so she could better blend with the crowd.

Better to remain hidden, out of sight, then stand out a beautiful maiden wrapped in glowing silk.

She had agreed, despite her inner desire. Sylvie was of the earth and the trees - she wasn’t meant to be the glittering jewel that danced in the skies. She was the deep soil, rich and hidden beneath in shadow - and Tara was the light that danced upon its surface, radiant golden hue.

Sylvie had always wondered what it would have been like to be beautiful, to be seen - not for her deformity but for something else.

How long had she envied the freefolk, garbed in whatever colors of fabrics they desired?

How long had she been filled with the desire to make such decisions based on her own volition?

For so long she had withheld her own want, yet now she found her inner soul was crying out for recognition. As her hands met the fine stitching of her gown - she surrendered to the call. The dresses were a far cry from the plain white robes in which she was accustomed. The rich and vibrant green fabric had cascaded down her willowy frame in a certain elegance, and caressed her form in a way she could have never thought possible. Though she had never seen herself as womanly, the dresses seemed to have formed curves - outlining her body’s femininity and sculpting it into something like the paintings of the goddess. It had been so long since she ever thought of her own form, nor the swell of her breasts or the flare of her own hips, or the softness of her belly, often overshadowed by the oversized robes she had been forced to wear daily. Yet as she had looked down at herself in those precious moments, she felt like a jewel - shined and polished for the first time.

Her cheeks bloomed at the delight of it, the pure joy it elicited.

Such a simple thing.

Yet, it waseverything.

As she trudged through the deep snow, the dress safely tucked away under the protection of her cloak, her whole body felt alight with the knowledge. For just tonight she would give herself this opportunity to be not a child of the light, but a woman - free.

A snowflake gently landed on her cheek, its touch as soft as a whispered kiss. A chill ran down her spine, as the cool air swept in around her, her eyes bright. Despite the risk they took, anticipation quaked through her, propelling her deeper into the misted night.

Tree branches tugged at her hair and clung to her cloak as she wandered through the darkened trail. She navigated each step and turn effortlessly, her path guided by years of training in the healer's circle, gathering herbs and medicinal plants for tinctures and balms, to heal the sick and ailing. The forest had been her only sanctuary, nurturing her soul and spirit more than she could admit. Despite the temple's dogma, its teachings of nature were what offered her solace. The earth's embrace grounded her, igniting a passion that was often her only reprieve from duty. She bowed her head as she stepped under the last snow dappled branch before stepping into the familiar clearing, to reveal the festivities commencing below.

There, a few feet from where they hid concealed under the shade of midnight trees, people lined and dotted the open fields in one thrawl of muddled movement. Men and women dressed in traditional furs and masks, danced around twirling flames, bodies mingling in wild abandon. Music and voice raised in unison, the culmination of the drumbeat violent and deep, sending out echoes of vibration. A primal energy stirred, a dangerous yet alluring temptation whispered, its fateful spell combing through the heated throng in one sensuous summon that lured to obey. As the innocent pair watched from afar, their eyes wide, Sylvie could hardly believe the new flood of sensations that now assaulted her senses.

Ashes.

If the high priest were to witness her now, feasting her eyes onsuch a spectacle, she'd undoubtedly face more than the back of his hand.

Couples snuck off from the edges of the heated throng, disappearing into the trees, some behind dark corners, and others uncaring they were in plain sight, doing things any child of the light would never condone.

Overwhelmed, Sylvie’s eyes were pinned on the happenings just below the crest of the forest, her stomach in her throat, and an unfamiliar heat gathering in her core.

The crowd beckoned her, and she felt the irresistible pull - curiosity etching her features.

What would it be like to join them?

To so unabashedly flash skin and body, to tap into the untamed aspects of her being, and break free?

Her thoughts were disrupted when Tara broke away from the safety of the trees, venturing further, severing the spell that had enveloped them.

“Tara, be careful!” She warned as she reached for her, her senses quickly returning. “We cannot be seen.”

“We’re not in white robes anymore Sylvie.” She whispered lowly, shooting her the look of annoyance she knew all too well. “I don’t believe anyone down there is in a state to see past their own noses with the way the ale has been flowing.”

Sylvie hesitated, her gaze fixed on the pulsating crowd before them.

Could they risk it?

Though her heart yearned to join the festivities, logic and caution held her firmly in place.

“Come on,” Tara urged, taking a step closer to the revelry. “No one will notice us.”

Sylvie's face tightened, her stomach knotting with apprehension.