Page 63 of Daughter of the Serpent

Thyra’s expression softened. “You speak of Tara.” A pause, hesitation curling at the edges of her voice. “I heard what happened…is she - do you know if she’s alright?”

“I don’t know,” Sylvie admitted, the truth heavier than she wished to say aloud. “They separated us. I believe she’s being tended to in her new quarters, but… I haven’t seen her since.”

Thyra’s fingers curled around hers, gentle yet firm. “I’m sure what happened wasn’t your fault. And after what you’ve done for me, I refuse to believe you could be guilty of what they accuse you of.”

Sylvie’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smile rising to the surface. It was a kindness she wasn’t sure she deserved, but one she clung to regardless.

“The trials - they could be your chance to prove yourself to the others, you know.”

Sylvie sat back on her heels, her gaze falling to her hands. “That is my hope. To finally prove my innocence - to be worthy.”

A heavy silence settled between them before Thyra spoke again, her voice solemn. “It is likely that they won’t let me wield again.”

Sylvie’s eyes snapped to her, a sudden ach blooming in her chest as she took in her words. She had been so concerned with Thyra’s wounds of the body, that she had forgotten about what other damage had been done.

“The elders, they won’t deem me worthy,” Thyra continued, her voice trembling. “Not after what happened at the rune casting. The magic… It refused me. They’ll see it as a sign that I’ve been forsaken.”

Sylvie’s hand found hers. “I’m sorry Thyra, truly.”

Thyra’s lips trembled, but she looked up, her blue eyes shining with an unexpected spark of hope. “I decided I’m going to volunteer.”

Sylvie’s breath caught, her chest tightening. “You can’t. The verdict - ”

“Was premature.” Thyra interrupted,her voice growing firmer. “Maybe they’ll deem me worthy if I try again. I just need more time - more practice. You heard what Runa said, they wouldn’t have pushed us to wield that much power so soon if not for the trials. I just need to prove myself.”

“But why?” Sylvie’s voice broke, her disbelief evident. “Why risk it? As it stands now, you’re safe. You don’t have to face the trials, or the danger, or the death. Isn’t it better to stay out of it?”

Thyra shook her head, a determined set to her jaw.

Sylvie sat on her bed, silence inhabiting her bones. She knew what that was like, the fragile thread, the miniscule sliver of hope that you could change your life, and have something better.

“And carry all that shame for the rest of my days? Besides, you saw him.” Thyra said, her eyes searching hers. “You saw my brother, didn’t you? He is my reason to do all of this.”

Sylvie clutched her hand closer.

“When I was taken to the temple he was only three years old. I was his only family. My parents…they died when we were young.” She admitted. “First my mother at childbirth. Then shortly after, my father. He couldn’t take the grief, he…he…” Her voice struggled, tears starting to burn her eyes. “Then it was just us.”

“What happened to Kal?” Sylvie asked, her hand squeezing hers gently.

“When he wasn’t showing signs of magical capability they took him to a new family. He lives there now with them, at the east side of the village.” She paused, emotions overcoming her. “I tried to see him, but they wouldn’t let me.” Her voice cracked. “It’s been years now. Years of being apart, of him thinking I abandoned him…”

Sylvie grasped her hand, as Thyra struggled to pull herself together, quickly realizing that she wasn’t the only one who had so much at stake. The trials were more than just a chance for glory - they were a chance to rewrite their destinies, to grasp at something better in a world that sought to crush them.

Winning meant a new life.

Thyra wiped a stray tear from her lashes, her face softening. “Sylvie, will you make me a promise?”

Sylvie nodded. “Anything.”

Thyra’s gaze burned into hers. “Come the trials, let’s look out for each other. Let’s make sure we both survive.”

A small, bittersweet smile curved Sylvie’s lips. “I promise.”

“And if one of us doesn’t…” Thyra hesitated, swallowing hard. “If one of us falls, the other will carry out her wishes.”

Sylvie reached for Thyra’s hand again, gripping it tightly. “If I win, I’ll find your brother. I swear it.”

Thyra smiled, a glimmer of hope lighting her tear - streaked face. “Thank you. And you - what would you ask of me?”