Page 32 of Daughter of the Serpent

“How fortunate.” Rederick said, his eyes assessing, his lips pinched into a tight line. Sylvie noticed how his shoulders seemed to line with tension as he observed the stranger.

“Even so, warrior from the north, she is to be a healer - not a warrior,” Kena’s voice rose from the elders' seats, “She has no training in preparation for the trials.”

“Did she not heal Baldr with her magic?” He questioned. “Her magic is strong, it just needs direction.”

“No child of the light, never mind one of the serpent should be trained for the trials.” Elder Kena snarled, her eyes pinned on the stranger. “It is a kindness that we allow her to live at all.”

The stranger paced before them, weighing her words.

“Are the trials not also for those who seek redemption from the gods?” He questioned. “Are not others able to willingly volunteer?”

“She is unworthy!” Kena spat, turning to Rederick. “I will not stand for it.”

Rederick moved to speak, but the stranger spokefirst.

“There is no law that states against her participation,” Axel growled, his voice strained through clenched teeth. “Only the law under your own prejudice.”

Kena’s eyes narrowed upon him, her gray eyebrows knitting into a frown as she raised her chin defiantly. Rederick raised his hand, silencing her from another remark. The remaining elders looked at each other, considering.

“It is clear we will not find the full truth here.” Axel’s voice rose, loud enough for all to hear. “Why not let the gods judge her fairly?”

Sylvie’s stomach knotted.

“An idea to be sure,” Rederick considered, yet his eyes flashed with cunning. “But I know of none who would be willing to train her now. She is too much of a liability.”

"I will train her," The stranger said, his words absolute.

Whispers thrummed through the crowd, as Sylvie’s eyes widened.

The judges exchanged glances, clearly skeptical.

"She is unworthy of such glory or honor.” Rederick folded his arms across his chest. “She has shown promise, but not enough.”

Axel’s voice hardened. "I mean no disrespect, but it is the gods who decide fates - not the counsel.”

Rederick’s eyes burrowed into the stranger, and for a moment silence engulfed the room. No one had dared test Rederick this far, as all feared the consequences. He clicked his tongue, his eyes never once leaving Axel’s face. “Tread carefully, stranger,” he said, his tone laced with venom. “Need I remind you of your place?”

Axel didn’t flinch. Instead, his hand shifted almost imperceptibly to the hilt of his blade, the steel gleaming beneath the dim torchlight. His voice cut through the tension like a blade itself. “My place,” he said, low but firm, “is here. Between you and the innocent.”

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Sylvie felt the sound escape her lips before she could stop it, her hand flying to her mouth. The crowd mirrored her shock, their wide eyes darting between Axel and Rederick.

Rederick stood abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. His staff was in his hand before anyone could react, the polished wood a stark contrast to his barely restrained temper. “Perhaps,” he hissed, his voice cold and cutting, “it is you who are in need of judgment, Axel of the Hazier.” He lifted his chin, glaring down his nose at him, his contempt unmistakable. “Be grateful that I am... intrigued by your offer.”

Sylvie tensed, her breath caught in her throat. She felt her pulse quicken, her chest tightening with every word.

“But know this,” Rederick continued, his voice growing darker, more ominous. “You take only a burden upon yourself. Even with all your training, it is unlikely that she will survive.”

Axel’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “We shall see,” he said, his voice steady.

Rederick’s lips curled into a sneer. “Very well.” He waved a dismissive hand. “But when she falls, and she will, it will be to your own humiliation.”

Axel inclined his head, his expression hard as granite. “I agree to the terms.”

Rederick turned sharply, his robes swishing behind him as he convened with the elders. Their hushed voices carried an air of finality, their deliberation quick but decisive.

After a moment, Rederick faced the crowd again, his staff tapping against the stone floor. His voice boomed, silencing the room. “We have come to our decision.”

He looked at Sylvie.