A Wizard's Dream

Egg

Asja bent down to pluck a short mushroom stalk with a brownish canopy from the grass. She placed it carefully inside her basket before picking another, and then another. Six caramel mushrooms later, she emptied the basket into a leather bag dangling loosely off the saddle. Then she returned to the dell graced with rotting tree trunks and moss-infested stones for another haul. Lime mushrooms with the consistency of lump jelly. Shell mushrooms who sprouted rings like the woods from whom they grew. Rainbow mushrooms with the smoothness and shine of polished marble. Ear-like bundles of fungus who helped their tree eavesdrop on the sounds of the woods. Furry funnels who let out fumes the colour and odour of stagnant wine. All were fair game for the little girl tasked with gathering ingredients for the family meal, but with plenty of time to play with what would eventually become her food. She stood there at the edge of the clearing, munching on her latest find – a tangy hood with pinkish fibrous flesh – when herkeen eye spotted a large oval shape hiding beneath a pile of spongy leaves and moss. Intrigued, she crept closer. It resembled no mushroomshe knew. She wiped off the closest leaves, revealing a smooth dome far larger than any of the food she was sent to pick. She hastenedto clear the remaining foliage and stood back to marvel at the unexpected sight.

Nestled between the canopies of two majestic birch trees lay a large, oval, stone-like object. Its crusty surface formed a haphazard interlocking pattern,made all the more unusual by the sapphire light who ignited it from within. Lively sparks leapt underneath, directing the protective ridges in a slow-motion dance across the jagged surface. The girl touched them. They felt solid and smooth, more like nails than rough stone, and indifferent to her feeble efforts at prying them apart.

"Armo!" she squealed. "Have you ever seen anything so pretty?"The mountain ram, startled by the girl's rush of exuberance, bleated his disagreement."We've got to show this to Ma and Pa!"She wondered how it got there. A broken branch dangling overhead accompanied by a gaping hole in the canopy furnished a clue. She pushed on the oversized stone, expecting it not to budge, and was shocked to see it roll forward over sloping ground. It wasn't long before she had it secured on a travois tied toArmo's saddle and hauled home, the mushroom harvest forgotten in the excitement of the find.

The Mount Edars sun had risen high into the sky by the time she saw Erna picking herbs in the small garden outside their home.
"Ma! Look what I found!" Erna looked up at the excited girl, and then at the travois poles dragging behind the ram. She hurried over and was greeted by the sight of an exotic oval stone protruding from travel cloth. She looked at Asja quizzically.
"Do you know what it is?" asked the girl. Erna shook her head.
"I'm going to get Pa. Maybe he'll know!"
"What about the mushrooms?"
"In the bag!" yelled the girl as she disappeared inside the house. She rushed out moments later, Tor having trouble keeping up with her.
"Have you ever seen a stone like this, Pa?" Asja pulled the cloth back to reveal it fully, her face flushed and beaming with excitement. Tor swallowed hard, his eyes glued to the sapphire stone. He studied it closely with his eyes and hands. When he pulled back to look at the child again, his face was mired by piercing eyes and a furrowed brow.

"Where did you find it?"
"In the forest by Moss Drops."
"There aren't supposed to be any of these left. Not here," he said while his hand apprehensively caressed the rugged surface. "We were supposed to have eradicated them all." He glanced at Asja before continuing. "I've seen an object like this once before – a ferrite egg in a mage's study. Fragments of it anyway. This one looks bigger, though; too big for a dragon. The ridges look more fragile and not at all like scales. It must be some other kind of lightning beast." His concerned gaze fell on the child again. "Do you have any idea where it came from? Was there a lair? Giant tracks nearby?"
Asja shook her head. "It fell from the sky," she answered confidently, recalling the broken branch and the pierced canopy. Tor squinted at her words. His hands brushed over the whole scraggy surface, coming to a halt by the far travois pole. He rolled the egg over to expose a sizeable dent in its underbelly. There were no cracks or sharp edges – it looked like the shell had recovered from the impact over time, but not enough to completely fill the hollow.

"A child of the mountain!" He recoiled from the egg. Erna rushed to his side. She knelt to examine the egg too, but her hands moved gingerly and trembled from the effort. She had trouble getting up. Tor helped her stand again and held her in his arms until she could bring herself to speak.
"Chosen to raise a beast of lightning?" She quivered. Tor stared at the egg with her. When he spoke, his words were carefully measured, concealing the turbulence that raged underneath. "I don't know what Ama is trying to tell us or why she has chosen Mount Edars as her messenger, but we cannot turn our back on the sacred duty. You know that."
"First the child and now... this," Erna lamented, barely dignifying the egg with the motion of her hand. "I don't have that much strength left in me!"
"Truth be told, I don't see many years ahead of me either." Tor held her hand, trying to comfort her. "Perhaps we don't need to raise the beast. Just provide a home for the two of them to grow up together. Hopefully Asja will know what to do with the creature when she's older. We both know she's not truly a dwarf, no matter how much she may resemble one." Erna nodded, apprehension still etched on her face.
"She's moving!" Asja watched the egg closely, oblivious to Erna and Tor's misgivings. "I can hear the shell cracking!" Tor bent down to examine it again.
"I don't see any cracks. They must be inside."
"Should we break the egg to help her come out?" the child offered eagerly, looking around for a tool she could use.
"No, Asja. We must be patient. We wouldn't want her to be born prematurely."
"Like Aunty Hilda's baby?"
"Yes, like that. She will come out when she's strong enough." The girl sat down next to the egg, preparing for a long vigil.
"I will call her Vagokaraine," she said, "The one who comes when she is ready."