Maybe this was a mistake, Elissa thought to herself as she stumbled along the dark, cold tunnels below the city. Maybe I should just go back.

But she couldn’t go back, not after what had happened. There was so much blood. They will kill me if I go back. Something interrupted her thoughts, a hiss came from down the corridor, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of rushing water. Nothing, it was nothing.

She pulled out the note Roslin had given her and slowly unfolded it, revealing a detailed sketch of a snake-shaped carving and a set of instructions. Follow the river until you reach the entrance. The note said nothing about dangers lurking below the city.

There were rumors that the Serpent Sisters worshiped a basilisk that granted them their abilities in return, but those were just stories made to frighten children away from the undercity. Their abilities came from their dedication and training, and Elissa hoped to become one of them. But will they have me? It was no secret that they took in girls from broken homes and gave them purpose, but they can’t accept everyone, can they? The sisters were a small group, at least compared to the rest of the free companies. They must have some standards. More likely they would reject her, and she would be hanged as a murderer, she thought.

Elissa tried not to dwell on it further. She had to focus on where she was going. It was easy to get lost down here and never find your way back. The light was fading, and the tunnels were getting darker. She heard the distant sound of rushing water growing louder, and she placed her hand upon the walls to guide her. She was getting close now.

The undercity was a sprawling network of sewage tunnels and long forgotten passageways, a vast dank realm cloaked in perpetual darkness – the only light emanating from the occasional grate above. An ineffable stench permeated every corner of the tunnels, and slimy green moss clung to the damp walls. Elissa found herself wondering how many girls had come this way before her, wading their way through piss and shit and Mother knows what else. Only the truly desperate, to be sure. And make no mistake, Elissa was one of them.

The distant rush of water grew louder, until finally she came upon an underground river. So this is what washes the shit away. Follow the river until you reach the entrance, she remembered. The smell was getting worse, so she covered her nose and mouth, and pressed forward.

The river grew deeper as she walked and soaked her dress. Its weight soon became too much, so she left it behind. The sisters didn't seem like the type for dresses, anyway, based on the stories she heard about them. Still, it was difficult. Her mother had given her that dress. My real mother. But she had no other choice.

The stench was also getting worse. The faint smell of rotting waste was now on full display, assaulting Elissa’s nostrils. She began to feel sick and stopped to retch, on more than one occasion.

She went on for what felt like hours, until she came upon a snake-shaped carving in the cavern wall, hidden behind a curtain of vines. Have I arrived? If there was an entrance to a lair of serpent-worshiping assassins, this was it. There was no mistaking that, but something felt wrong. They said the entrance only showed itself to those who were deemed worthy. Elissa had assumed there would be some sort of test, some proof required of her before she was granted passage – but there it was.

She approached the marking and hesitated, holding up the note Roslin had given her and comparing the sketch with the marking on the wall, just to be sure – but they were one and the same. I can't turn back now. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and pressed her palm against the marking. A low rumble echoed throughout the cavern as the passage revealed itself, deep and dark, stretching far beyond what her eyes could see. She took another breath and stepped inside.

The floor of the narrow corridor was wet and slippery, threatening to throw Elissa off balance with every step she took. She could see more of the markings as she walked, etched along the walls to her left and right, the eyes of the serpents gleaming in the dark and following her as she walked.

As Elissa stumbled through the narrow passageway, the floor began to descend before her, leading deeper underground into further darkness. The slope was steep and dangerous, so she placed both hands along the wall, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.

Or rather, that was what she meant to do.

Instead, she slipped, her foot gliding against the damp cobblestone and sending her tumbling down the slope. There was no stopping it. The slope only got steeper as it descended into the darkness, and Elissa’s body slammed against the hard stone, lifting only to slam her down even harder. She was free falling now, and could hear the sound of several distant waterfalls.

The ground came up to meet her, and everything went black.

Elissa woke in her bed to her father’s wife shaking her. “Time to get up, girl.” She snapped. “You’ve slept nearly half the day.” Elissa got up, begrudgingly, and dressed herself in the clothes her stepmother laid out for her. My mother’s dress. Is this a kindness or slight, I wonder?

“I expect you to be on your best behavior today. My mother and father are coming to visit.”

Oh great, there’s more of you. “Of course, mother.” She hated calling her that, but her father insisted. They had only known each other for a few months and were married far too soon – especially after mother’s death. Elissa did not approve, nor would she let this vile woman take her mother’s place.

“And clean this room of yours. You are a lady, not a pig. Act like one.” And with that, her stepmother left the room.

The morning passed by quickly as Elissa helped prepare for their visitors. Her new mother's family was an influential one, and her father had gone to great lengths to impress them. It was clear that he wanted to place himself within the good graces of his wealthy, and very old, father-in-law.

Elissa’s stepmother watched her with an eagle eye, correcting her every mistake. It was exhausting, but she could only say "Yes, mother." Unless she wanted another beating, and she did not. Her father sensed her worry and pulled her aside.

"Daughter, what is troubling you?"

"You know exactly what is troubling me, father." She looked at him with tears in her eyes.

He let out a pained sigh. "My daughter, your mother is gone. You must move on, as I have." He looked over at his new wife, who flashed her innocent smile at them both.

“I don’t want to move on. I hate her. She hurts me, father.” She took care not to speak too loudly.

“Enough, child.” Her father’s voice grew stern, and he grabbed her arm. “If you would behave as your mother asked, she would have no cause to discipline you.”

Discipline. Is that what he calls it? “She is not my mother.” Elissa pulled herself away.

Her father had changed after mother’s death. He used to take her to the market every morning and would sing her lullabies as a little girl. But ever since mother died, he grew cold and distant from her, as if she reminded him of a life he’d rather leave behind. Sometimes she wished she could just disappear.

Elissa finished her duties and waited in her room for the guests to arrive, reading her stories. She especially enjoyed the romantic ones, even though they usually ended in tragedy. She’d long hoped that a dashing prince would come and spirit her away from her father and stepmother, but she knew that was just the dreams of a little girl. She would more likely be wed to a man of her father’s choosing, one that brought him an alliance of power and wealth. But there were worse fates in life.

When the guests arrived, Elissa was called to formally welcome them into her home, alongside her father and stepmother.

“Grandfather, grandmother,” She curtsied, “It is good to meet you. I am Elissa, eldest daughter of Lord Fairmont.” She was quickly met with looks of contempt, and realized the apple did not fall far from the tree. She decided she would keep her distance as often as she was able.

“Hm. Good to meet you darling.” The contempt in her grandmother’s voice could not be mistaken. Her father cleared his throat. “We hope you had a pleasant journey,”

“Quite the opposite. Your countryside smells like shit and looks even worse.” How charming.

Her father laughed in an attempt to paint the insult as a jape, but the room was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. “Allow me to give you a tour of Castle Fairmont, my lord.”

Time did not bring them any closer. As they toured the castle together, her stepmother’s parents had something negative to say at every turn. “These curtains are wrong”, “This table is crooked”, “This servant is slacking”. They were not pleased with anything they saw, and Elissa could see it wearing on her father after a while. How does it feel, father?

Elissa took her leave to assist with the evening's preparations. She stepped into the dining hall, a grand expanse that swallowed up whispers and echoed back laughter. It boasted towering, vaulted ceilings, and walls punctuated by magnificent stained-glass windows. The panes painted stories of color and light onto the marble floor, casting a rich, dappled glow.

Three long tables, draped in immaculate white linen, formed a horseshoe in the center. They glinted with the polished gold of ornate cutlery; their extravagance softened by the simple elegance of rose bouquets. Bursts of red, blush pink, and stark white blossomed intermittently, each a delicate pause in the rhythm of grandeur.

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Elissa found herself reminiscent of the countless dinners past, spent laughing with her mother and father as they ate with the closest of their friends and family. Now it was empty more oft than not, with not a voice to be heard. Elissa felt a tear roll down her cheek. No, mustn’t let them see you cry. She wiped it away before it could fall and returned to her duties.

As she was setting the family table, she felt a cold hand on her shoulder, and gasped. She turned to meet Roslin’s familiar gaze.

She and Roslin had been close friends ever since they were girls. They used to play in the gardens together, chasing after butterflies and picking flowers – to the dismay of the greenhand. When Roslin’s parents died, Elissa begged her father not to send her off to the orphanage. He took some convincing, but let her stay on as a serving girl. She’d served their family faithfully ever since and had only grown closer with Elissa. Elissa did not have many friends these days, but Roslin remained, steadfast and true as always.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you” Roslin stammered. “You were missing all morning. I grew concerned.” Elissa shrugged off her initial shock and managed to put on a feeble smile.

“I appreciate your concern, Roslin. I’m alright, just preoccupied with our guests is all.” She moved to continue her task, but Roslin stopped her.

“Did she hurt you again?” Roslin took care not to ask too loudly. Elissa only nodded. Roslin looked disappointed and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll endure, I always do.” Elissa offered a brave smile, her voice steady.

“But what if you didn’t have to?”

That took Elissa by surprise. She couldn’t help but laugh. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…what if there was an escape, a place you could truly be free?” Roslin paused, her gaze fixed on Elissa. “There’s a place…for girls like us. They had offered me sanctuary when I was orphaned, but your family welcomed me instead. Perhaps they would extend the same offer to you.” Elissa shot her a look of confusion. Roslin looked around to make sure no one was listening. “The Serpent Sisters.” She hissed.

Elissa shook her head. The Serpent Sisters? They were assassins, savages, and shapeshifters, some said. Why would Elissa exchange the security of her castle for the danger of their company?

“I will not flee from my home.” Elissa snapped.

"Just...consider it," Roslin implored, her voice pleading. "You may not know where the winds of fate might carry you in the coming weeks. Should the need arise, remember there is always another path." Roslin pressed a folded up note into Elissa’s palm. “Now go, before someone sees us and thinks us gossipers.”

Elissa forced another smile. “Thank you, Roslin.” Her friend bowed her head and returned to her tasks.

The evening came, and they dined with their guests. Truth be told it did not go any better than the tour, every bite of food was followed by a criticism of her Lord Father’s poor hospitality. It pained her to see her father so disrespected in his own hall, but there was little she could do. She retired early to her chambers, retreating to the comfort of her bed and books.

As she read, she found herself reflecting on her conversation with Roslin. What if there was a better place for her? No, she was Lady Elissa Fairmont. She could not leave her Lord Father alone with her vile stepmother, no matter how much she might want to. She put aside her books and closed her eyes, preparing for another day with her dreadful stepmother’s family.

The days came and went, and their guests’ presence began to wear on her father more with each passing day. When their visit finally came to its end, her father had instructed the servants to prepare a grand feast to see them off, a most undeserved courtesy, Elissa thought.

The dinner bell rang almost an hour earlier than usual that evening, but thankfully the table had been set and the dining hall was as clean as ever.

Elissa took a deep breath, bracing herself for the evening ahead. As she entered the grand dining hall, her eyes were drawn to the family table, which now held a massive spread of dishes: roast boar, stuffed with apples, pears, and a mixture of fragrant herbs; honeyed chicken and grilled leeks, black bread served with soft cheese and salted butter, and fish in green sauce. A deep red wine filled the goblets around the table – a vintage specially chosen by her father. One that will surely leave his good parents disappointed.

Her father entered the hall with her stepmother and grandparents. The exhaustion on his face was evident, but he managed to muster a small smile at Elissa.

“Ah, the star of the evening,” said her grandmother in a tone dripping with venom. “Look at you, all grown up and ready to serve.”

"Indeed, grandmother," Elissa replied with a tight smile, "My house prides itself on its hospitality. It's heartwarming to see you've noticed." Her grandmother frowned, as if she was displeased that Elissa was not hurt further by her comment. She is as insufferable as her daughter.

Elissa took her seat, ensuring she was as far from her grandmother as possible, to avoid any further confrontations. Roslin entered shortly afterward, her tray filled with fresh goblets and a pitcher of wine. As their eyes met, Elissa felt an unusual surge of gratitude for the presence of her childhood friend. At least someone here was on her side.

The dinner commenced, and the chatter began, starting off polite and cordial. Her father engaged his guests in light-hearted stories of their land and its prosperity, trying desperately to paint a rosy picture for the judgmental eyes and ears of his in-laws.

But as the wine flowed, so did the cutting remarks. Elissa’s stepmother tried to guide the conversation, sprinkling in compliments about the food and the castle's decorations, but her parents seemed unimpressed.

Her grandfather sneered after his first sip of wine. “Is this goblin-piss the best your land has to offer?”

Elissa clenched her fist beneath the tablecloth, trying to keep her composure. As the evening went on, she found herself retreating further into her thoughts. The room seemed to blur around her as she remembered Roslin’s words about the Serpent Sisters, the idea becoming more favorable by the day. But the thought of leaving her home, the only world she'd ever known, was daunting.

Lost in her contemplations, she didn't notice when the conversation turned to her until her grandmother's shrill voice pierced her thoughts.

"My dear, you do have a certain…unconventional beauty about you.” Elissa figured that was the highest praise she was capable of. Her grandmother turned her gaze to her father and stepmother. “Have you given much thought to betrothals?”

Her father nearly choked on a bite of roast boar. “We have…entertained some proposals, but Elissa is still young,” That’s news to me.

Her grandfather cut in. “She is nearly a woman grown. Why my own lady wife was betrothed to me at three-and-ten.” He took a gulp of the wine he so despised. “A husband would keep her in line.” Her father appeared incredulous at the suggestion, his face flushing red, but he forced a smile. “As you say, goodfather.”

“I’ve heard that Lord Blackwood is in search of a wife. Perhaps you should send her his way.” Her grandmother said, eyeing Elissa with a smirk. Over my dead body.

Her father stiffened. He made to speak, but Elissa interrupted him. "If I do marry, it will not be to a man near twice my age," Elissa added, a newfound determination burning in her eyes. “I shall choose mine own husband, when the time comes.” Her father stared at her with a fury in his eyes, but she had had enough of her guests’ insolence.

The room fell silent for a moment, a heavy tension in the air. But it was broken by Roslin who, seeing the rising hostility, promptly announced dessert. The bakers brought in wild berry tart drizzled with honey, delicate cream custard topped with nutmeg and cinnamon, and Elissa’s favorite, honey cakes stuffed with fruit and topped with roasted walnuts. It became an unintentional distraction, allowing for a change of subject and a brief respite from the evening's hostility. The talk turned to hunts and the upcoming harvest festival.

Roslin came close to fill Elissa’s goblet, and whispered in her ear, “Be calm, the night is nearly done.” Easier said than done. Elissa took her knife and cut into her dessert, keeping her mouth full so as not to get herself into trouble.

As the night drew to a close, her father stood and cleared his throat, proposing a final toast to his guest. “To my goodfather and goodmother,” He spoke with a commanding certainty that Elissa had not heard in a long time, “We are honored to have you as our guests and extend our hospitality to you. Your daughter has been good to me, and I hope to prove a worthy son-in-law.”

“Well, she is better than your last wife, to be sure.” Her grandmother added, drinking deeply from her cup.

Elissa had enough. Roslin saw the fury burning in her eyes and froze. Her fingers turned white as they clenched the knife in her hand. “Do you have no shame, grandmother?”

Her grandmother was taken aback. “Pardon me, girl?” Elissa felt the fire in her growing. She would not back down now. Insult me all you wish, but do not disgrace my mother.

“Here you sit in my father’s hall, enjoying our meats and wines, the fruits of our labor.” Elissa said, her voice quivering with controlled rage. “We have welcomed you as honored guests, and as thanks for our hospitality, you think it prudent to insult his dead wife, mine own mother.”

"Elissa," her father said sharply, his face flushed a deep crimson.

“Daughter, that is quite enough.” Her stepmother added, her voice shrill and sharper than the knife in Elissa’s hand.

“Hold your tongue, girl. Who are you to speak to me in such manner?” Her grandmother rose from her chair and sauntered over to Elissa. She felt her heart begin to race, and she could not meet her grandmother’s gaze.

“I do not know in what manner your father has raised you, but where I come from children are taught discipline and respect.” She leaned down closer to Elissa. “As the wife of Lord Harmond, and an elder in this family, I will not be challenged by the likes of you.”

Elissa kept her eyes fixed on her honey cakes, struggling to maintain her composure. Her face was hot and red, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She felt like hiding, like she did when her stepmother beat her. Her courage was fleeing her when she needed it most, and she took a moment to manage a weak response. “I know my place. I am the Lady Elissa Fairmont,” She began, her voice shaky, “and I will not be-" She felt her grandmother’s hand in a stinging slap across her face.

“Enough! You are nothing but the daughter of a common whore.” She hissed, leaning closer to Elissa. “It is good that your mother is gone. It is time you had a proper upbringing.”

Elissa felt the tears flooding her eyes, blurring her vision. Her face was burning now and her hands were trembling. You insolent bitch.

“Shut up!” Elissa snapped, swinging her hand behind her.

The room fell silent, everyone was staring at Elissa as if she’d just uttered a curse. Why are they looking at me? Then she saw.

The knife was still in her hand, dripping red. Her grandmother was grasping her neck, blood running through her fingers down the front of her dress and spilling onto the floor. She stumbled backwards. No. Gods, no. Elissa dropped the knife and pushed her chair from the table, she tried to say something but only cries came out. Her father was staring at her like some sort of monster. It was her. It was her dammit. She didn’t stop. I didn’t mean to.

Elissa heard guards sprinting towards her. She leapt over the table and ran, not looking back. What have I done?

Elissa woke again, this time in a torchlit chamber that looked like the narrow passageway, with serpents etched along the walls - but this one was much larger. Her gasps echoed throughout, and she was surrounded by tall women in dark leather armor. Many had shorn heads and tattoos of snakes adorning their face, arms, and legs. Others had braids, forked tongues, and filed fangs. The Serpent Sisters. They were all frightening to her. Am I to be one of them?

One of the shorn women stepped forward. She was strangely beautiful, Elissa thought. "You have crossed the threshold of fear and darkness. Tell us child, why have you come to the Serpent Sisters?"

Elissa hesitated for a moment before gathering the courage to speak. She swallowed, and avoided eye contact, as if the woman might strike her like a snake if she said the wrong thing. "I-I wish to become o-one of you, to learn your ways and dedicate m-myself...t-to your cause." She swallowed again.

The woman's eyes narrowed, and she studied Elissa for several minutes before opening her mouth to speak again. "Your path will not be easy. There will be sacrifices." She replied, still in her cold yet inviting tone.

Elissa stood, looking the woman in her eyes. This is my only choice. There is no turning back. "I know. I am ready."

The woman nodded back. "Are you certain?” Elissa nodded.

The woman looked her up and down, then circled around her, as if she was evaluating her. “What is your name, child?”

"Elissa," She answered. "Elissa Fairmont."

"Welcome, Acolyte Elissa.”

Acolyte Elissa. That would take some getting used to.