Page 22 of Daughter of the Serpent

Sylvie moved cautiously through the towering trees, her urgent steps echoing in the stillness. Keeping her hood upright and eyes sharp she shifted through the underbrush, following the distant sounds of laughter and music.

Despite wanting to question the seer further, she knew she must find Tara before something happened that they would regret.

Finally the trees gave way to the village's edge. The roaring fires crackled as the townsfolk chuckled with glee, the scent of ale and spiced wine quick to tickle her nostrils. The drumbeat thrummed loudly through the space, the air still alive with thriving energy. Though she had felt she had been gone for hours, she could see that nothing had much changed. All were still in the thick of the Rebirth celebrations, though many had only fallen deeper under the ale’s spell.

Anxiously searching the crowd, she held her hood tightly to her face, careful to shield her eyes. The last thing she needed was to be recognized before she could find Tara and return safely back behind the temple walls. Carefully navigating her way through the throng, she caught sight of the remaining couples dancing around the fire, many evidently overcome by the haze of alcohol and desire. As she weaved through, Sylvie's heart burst when she caught sight of Tara in the midst of them, standing out like a beacon of light. Her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the fire moved to the music, her face filled with laughter and mirth.

Sylvie stepped closer, her hand reaching out, but quickly retracted as a knot quickly gathered in her throat.

Tara danced with a man - their bodies twirling sinuously to the music. His hands roved over her, clutching, smoothing, and gliding over the thin fabric of her gown, her hips, her breasts, her body. His eyes were full of fire, heat - and Sylvie could clearly see it was not because of the twirling flame that crackled close by. Tara leaned into his arms, her eyes just as warm, a devilish smile curving the sides of her lips.

Yet it was not just the way they were dancing that made Sylvie’s jaw slack, but the object of Tara’s flirtations. Her eyes narrowed in as the man she then recognized as none other than the Jarl’s son Velden. A man of status and a reputation as a skilled warrior and lover, he was dangerous as he was morally corrupt. Sylvie hissed as watched him close the gap between them, bringing his lips to Tara’s, devouring her mouth greedily. Tara didn’t protest, their bodies still grinding against each other in the heat of the music.

Hesitating, emotions flooded her.

Relief that she had found Tara, but also a pang of certainty that something was about to go wrong - very wrong.

Sylvie rushed forward, threading herself through the crowd like a snake slithering undetected through the grass, eyes set on her target, fear gripping her gut. She had nearly reached them when she knocked into someone’s shoulder, causing her to stumble backward.

Her eyes darted upward as the man turned, and she froze.

Baldr Longbeard.

Ashes.

Quickly she turned, shadowing herself under the welcome shelter of her hood skirting herself as far away from him as possible. Yet the crowd pushed back, and before she knew it his hulking hand was gripping into her shoulder.

Spinning her to face him he pulled the hood back from her face, stopping her in her tracks.

“You!”

Baldr stood before her, his face only inches from her own, hisbreath hot on her cheek. His long auburn hair clung to his face and fell into his shining blue eyes as recollection took hold.

"Well, well, well - it is you." he hissed, his voice laced with malice. "I didn’t think you would be daft enough to show your face here.”

Sylvie squared her shoulders, straightening her spine, clamping her mouth shut.

“It seems you must keep proving me right.” He spat. “I’ll have to show you how men of honor treat those who disrespect our laws.”

A low laugh rumbled in his throat as he pulled her from the crowd off into the tree line, mumbling between his clenched teeth. No one stopped him as he dragged her from view, yet Sylvie wasn't sure how many even noticed - absorbed in the drink and spirit.

The forest was no longer welcoming, its gnarled roots making her stumble, its snow laden branches gripping into her dress, her cloak, like long clenching fingers. The night had betrayed her, and the forest spirits laughed.

“I’ll never understand why the gods let you live.” He muttered, his hands clawing into her flesh. “ You should have met your end the day you were born, just like all the other decrepit babes not strong enough to claim the life of a real Mardovian.”

"Leave me be!" Sylvie protested, flailing her arms in an attempt to meet his hard flesh.

The air crackled with animosity as Baldr unsheathed a gleaming blade, it's cold steel reflecting in the glow of his eyes. “Stop wriggling, you filth!”

His hand gripped into her cloak, pulling her forward by the neck. “Hjalmarr isn’t here to save you now.” his eyes gleamed with a certain wickedness. “That means you’re all mine.”

More men approached from behind, their faces obscured by wild beards and tangled hair, leering at her with predatory eyes. Trapped and outnumbered, the men closed in, the cold grip of fear tightening around her.

“Well what do we have here?” One of Baldr’s brothers, Jok clapped his shoulders, flashing his yellowing teeth ashis delight spread his smile wide. Ale dripped from his chin, the stench of sweat and beer intermingling as he expelled a sour breath.

“This is the child of the light I told you about, the one they keep as one of their Chosen.”

“A child of the light,here?” He stammered, a certain gleam and surprise striking his eyes. “The gods deliver us a rare gift this night!”