Page 56 of Daughter of the Serpent

Quickly retrieving her runes, Runa’s eyes combed through the gathered throng of students, her keen eyes discerning.

"Alga, step forth."

A girl with an amber braid emerged from the group, her green eyes wide with apprehension as she entered the stone circle, clutching the runes tightly. As she reached the center, she turned to face Runa, fear etched in her features.

"Breathe, Alga," Runa soothed, guiding her gently. "Connect with the gods. Feel the magic coursing through your veins. Let the earth support you, let it anchor you."

Alga closed her eyes, offering silent prayers before gathering her resolve.

"Cast!" Runa commanded.

Alga nodded, her hands beginning to tremble. All watched as she drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs with air once more before releasing the runes in one swift motion. A scream pierced the air as the runes took flight, Alga's arm contorting at anunnatural angle. She tumbled downward as the runes flew out of her grasp as if repelled by an unseen force. A strange ink - like energy enveloped the arm, swarming it in seconds, causing her cries to worsen.

A chilling voice emerged from the stones themselves, whispering a single word from the seething shadow.

"Unworthy."

Silence descended upon the clearing, broken only by the echoes of Alga's pain. Runa's expression darkened, quickly signaling those nearby.

“Take her to the healers!” She ordered, her face emotionless. “She will not wield.”

Sylvie’s gaze shifted between the students, a fear coiling in her belly - but she didn’t let herself surrender to it.

She wouldn’t fail.

She would succeed, and be found worthy by the gods.

Tension filled the air as two guards carried Alga away, her screams still sounding in the clearing, her arm dangling from her body limp and lifeless.

“Bjorn, you’re up next!” Runa barked, a fierceness now in her tone. “The gods do not wait.”

Stepping forward into the clearing, the gold of his hair captured the small stream of sunlight that shone through the canopy. His expression held no inkling of fear, a knowing smile curving his lips, his eyes alive with determination. Sylvie observed him, silently pondering. Bjorn, like Haldor, had been training all his life to face the trials - and it was evident by the way he carried himself. Surely, he possessed the physical prowess that often earned favor from the gods. But she couldn't help but wonder - did his strength extend beyond the body? Was his mind fortified enough to withstand the trials? The gods valued cunning and wisdom as much as physical strength.

All eyes watched as he retrieved his runes and took his place in the center of the circle. His stance was confident, proud.

“Cast!” Runa’s voice clipped the air.

With a slight incline of his head he did as commanded, his armreaching back and then flying forward in one fluid movement. The world seemed to hold its breath, the anticipation gripping. In less than a moment a red aura swept the length of his casting arm, and a strange feeling of power enveloped the space as the runes flung free. The stones met the earth, rolling until at last finding stillness in an intricate pattern only the gods would weave.

A collective exhale could be heard through the clearing, as he stood back and beheld his success, Runa’s eyes seeming to light with appraisal.

“Worthy.” The voices echoed in response.

“Good!” Runa praised. “Our first caster! Behold your arrangement.”

Bjorn moved in to survey the runic cast with a closer eye, studying the arrangement and design. His chin was held high, a certain arrogance meeting his expression.

He was pleased with what he saw.

What had the gods revealed?Sylvie wondered.

Runa joined him, to appraise the runes. “You will have a fine destiny indeed, Bjorn.” She slapped his shoulder. “Now you may return to your place.”

Gathering the runes he returned as others stepped forward, and soon Runa had them casting in groups.

Haldor’s name was called, and Sylvie felt her heart lurch in her chest. Palms starting to sweat, she observed him as he confidently took his place. Just as she had thought, he showed no hint of insecurity, that smug smile a permanent fixture on his face.

He had to be found worthy.