Page 57 of Daughter of the Serpent

Despite their disagreement, she couldn’t imagine him being found otherwise. As he cast, a bright orange inhabited his casting arm, the magic flowing free.

“Worthy!” the voice echoed, and his smug smile only deepened. He turned to go back, yet when his eyes met hers, she thought she saw a flicker of fear pass through their icy blue depths.

Runa called out the next list of names.

“Sylvie, Balor, and Vikta approach the sacred ground.” Runa’s voice sounded loudly.

She would not fail.

Stepping forward with the others Sylvie turned inward, connecting with her heart, her destiny. She knew she had a fate, a fate the gods had inscribed to her when birthed into the world, and yet the little twinge of doubt rattled her senses. Despite surviving, she had been cast aside as unworthy. This was the first time in all the years of her service that she would approach them again for their judgment.

Accepting a leather drawstring purse from the guards, Sylvie opened the mouth of the bag, her eyes glittering as they glimpsed the polished and inscribed stone. Pouring them out from the purse into her hand, her breath caught. They were beautiful, and she felt something shift in the air as she clutched them tightly.

Moving forward with the others, she took her place in the center of the stones, each step forward setting her teeth on edge. Despite her fear, she knew she couldn’t turn back now.

This was the moment.

Her moment.

Sylvie shut her eyes, delving deep into the wellspring of energy within her body, distancing herself from the presence of those around her. She extended her awareness to every limb, every pore, every strand of hair, every inhale and exhale. Sensing the interconnectedness of all things, she grounded herself to the earth, feeling the solidity of the soil beneath her feet, invoking the spirit of Mother Gaia herself.

Sounds erupted around her, but she closed down her senses to focus on the task at hand. A scream pierced the air, yet she stood unwavering. Her lungs expanded with deep breath, drinking in the air like water from a vessel - willing herself to become one with Source. She tapped into this connection - she was no longer a body, a separate entity - but one, one with all life, and all there ever was. She could feel the fluidity of the energy, like soft flowing waters,pouring into her senses, her body, and soul itself - filling up her entire being. She was no longer Sylvie, a separate identity - but everything, everyone, and all in between. She could feel it all, for the very first time. Her senses were wide awake, alive, and no longer dormant.

Something landed in a thud, threatening to break her connection - but she held resolute. She felt the spray of something wet splatter across her face, but she kept her eyes closed.

She kept filling herself up, filling herself with as much energy and power as she could - surrendering to the will of life itself.

“Remember who you are.”

The voice, sharp and jarring, sounded in her mind, snapping her senses back.

The runes cast from her hand, as if upon their own accord, and a warm tingling energy enveloped her. She could feel it moving through every part of her being.

The smell of scorched earth tinged her nostrils, before she opened her eyes.

Gasps erupted from gapped mouths, and every eye was pinned either upon her or the earth in the circle’s center. Bodies littered the sacred grounds at the feet of the runic stones, limbs scattered about from their sources, others clutching bleeding noses and burns, and smoke rose from the ground beneath them.

Yet, it was like she wasn’t there at all - like she was looking in from some other world, some other dimension far away. She could still feel the flow of the magic winding and flowing through her limbs and body, every inch of her undoubtedly alive and full of pulsing energy. It had stretched from her arm to all of her very being, and she had never felt so full of pure and raw power.

At the heart of the clearing, the cast runes lay scattered, finally finding stillness. A held breath loosened as she assessed herself. Realizing she still was fully intact, had befallen no injury, and a feeling of pride washed over her. Upon such relief, her eyes quickly darted toward the clearing.

Her runes had been successfully cast.

Yet, as her gaze descended upon them, her excitement turned to disbelief.

The voice lashed out, cold, emotionless.“Unworthy.”

Each rune that had flown from her hand lay face down, in refusal.

Chapter Eleven

Voices blended as one, as looks of confusion and wonder passed between all in attendance. Sylvie looked to Haldor, his jaw was slack and his eyes drilling into her own.

“What does it mean?” One of the students, a boy not more than twelve gasped, clinging to his arm that had surely been broken in more than two places. Blood dribbled from his nose, and his voice sounded hoarse, like he had been run ragged from the exertion.

"Sylvie, come!" Runa's booming voice commanded, cutting through the chaos as she strode toward her, wisps of smoke still lingering from the scorched ground. She looked completely composed, but her eyes - they were alight like fire.

"Tend to the wounded, and that will be all for today," Runa declared, gesturing to the guards to assist.