Book of Ellagar

Chapter 10: Digging

Thelara's eyes met Ellagar's, unwavering. "Because you are the one Grandmother speaks to," she said softly. "You can commune with the spirits and the swamp. The grave is a place of power, and you must be the one to uncover its secrets. This is not a journey for children."

Ellagar nodded, then extended her hand to help Thelara up. She couldn't ignore the other reason Thelara hadn't mentioned—Thelara was still recovering from her near-death experience. "Come," Ellagar murmured, "rest in the lean-to. You're exhausted, and we can talk more in the morning." Thelara's eyes searched Ellagar's for a moment before she accepted the hand, allowing herself to be guided to the makeshift shelter.

The lean-to was built with care, its branches and leaves woven tightly to keep out the swamp's damp and chill. Ellagar chatted proudly about how Verak and Ardvek had constructed it, recalling the laughter and camaraderie they shared during its construction. Inside, the ground was layered with soft moss, and the air was fragrant with the herbs Ellagar had gathered for comfort. Thelara's eyes drifted to the pile of bedding, a mix of furs and swamp plants that promised a warm and restful night's sleep. She lay down with a sigh, her heavy body sinking into the soft embrace of the makeshift bed.

Ellagar watched her sister-in-arms for a moment, her gaze lingering on the lines of fatigue etched into Thelara's face. "Rest well," she murmured, her voice as gentle as a breeze in the night. "Tomorrow we will speak of this prophecy and the journey that lies ahead."

Thelara nodded, her eyes already drifting closed. "Tomorrow," she agreed, her words a muffled murmur against the furs. "Stay with me, Ellagar. Sleep."

Ellagar settled beside her, feeling the warmth of Thelara's body next to her own, the steady rhythm of her breathing a comfort in the vast and unpredictable swamp. Her thoughts tumbled. The jumble of the past few days filling her mind, the whispers of the swamp, the secrets of the prophecy, and the mysteries of Ardvek's heritage. So much to do. She lay listening as the night sounds of the swamp grew softer, and felt the whispers inside her settle. Her hand found its way to Thelara's strong back, gently rubbing. The bronze dragonborn's scales were rough and warm, a stark contrast to her own smooth green and gold scales. It was a reminder of their shared burden, their bond forged in battle and the quiet moments of their shared mission.

Ellagar whispered softly, "Rest now, my friend. We face tomorrow together." She felt Thelara's breathing slow and deepen, a sign that sleep had finally claimed her. The closeness of their bodies, the shared warmth, and the gentle touch of Ellagar's hand on Thelara's back created a cocoon of safety and trust. In that moment, surrounded by the soothing sounds of the swamp, Ellagar allowed herself to relax, her worries momentarily eased by the presence of her sister-in-arms.

Sleep claimed her, and she dreamed of a glade far away from the swamp, a place where the air was sweet with the scent of flowers and the sun shone brightly. In this dream, there was no prophecy, no dragon cult, just peace and the quiet rustle of leaves. It was a memory from her youth, a place where she had felt safe and whole, before the whispers had come to claim her. In the dream, she saw herself, young and unblemished, playing with her nest siblings, her heart filled with joy. Silver and golden threads crisscrossed the dream, connecting her to each sibling, and a raven cawed. The harsh, jolting call was a reminder of the urgent path that lay ahead, pulling her back to the present.

Ellagar jolted awake, her eyes snapping open to the dim light of pre-dawn. The swamp buzzed with the sounds of awakening wildlife, the whispers of the night giving way to the day's cacophony. Beside her, Thelara snored gently, her chest rising and falling with the deep, slow breaths of a warrior at peace. For a moment, Ellagar thought about waking her to share the dream, but something held her back. Instead, she slipped from the warmth of their bed, her scales brushing against the cool, damp earth as she stood. The dream lingered in her mind, a bittersweet reminder of what was at stake and the journey ahead.

The swamp stirred, fog rising off the water in ethereal wisps that danced around the base of the Mother Tree. The tree's spirit watched her with ancient eyes, piercing her soul. The whispers grew stronger, more insistent, speaking of journeys and destinies, of battles to come and the delicate balance of nature. It was time to prepare for her trip to the grave.

Ellagar turned her gaze to the murky waters, where a shadow moved gracefully on the shore. It was Sageclaw, the ancient emerald dragon Grandmother had coerced into guarding them. He waited patiently, his powerful tail flicking lazily in the water. His eyes met hers, sensing the gravity of her intent. She opened her mind to his and shared her plans.

The dragon's thoughts were a warm, comforting presence, like a gentle breeze carrying the scent of a distant meadow. He understood the importance of Ellagar's quest and the risks it entailed. He communicated his willingness to stand by her side and offer guidance, though he would not interfere directly. His concern was palpable, and Ellagar felt a pang of regret for the bond forced upon him by Grandmother's plotting. Yet, she knew he was a creature of honor and would protect them all with his life if it came to that.

"Are you certain you must do this?" he asked mind to mind. She knew what he meant. The ancient black dragon might be dead, but some part of it still roamed the hoard.

With a deep breath, she sent her assurance back to Sageclaw. "I am certain. The whispers of the swamp grow louder, and the prophecy's path is unclear. We must seek the truth where we can find it." Sageclaw nodded, his emerald eyes reflecting the nascent light of dawn, "I cannot enter that dark place, but I will carry you there and wait for you."

The dragonborn druid gathered her supplies, choosing carefully from the array of herbs and weapons they had amassed in their camp. A sense of urgency grew within her as the swamp awoke, a tapestry of voices weaving secrets and shadows into her thoughts. She felt the weight of her mission, the fate of so much riding on her shoulders. She turned to look at the shelter where two young souls peacefully slept.

As she moved quietly, preparing to leave on her journey, a soft voice pierced the stillness of the morning. "Sister Ellagar, where do you go?" Ardvek's eyes, still carrying the remnants of sleep, searched hers with innocent curiosity. He often woke early, his senses attuned to the rhythms of light.

Ellagar knelt beside him, her heart heavy with the burden of secrets and the path she was about to tread. "I have an errand," she said gently, hugging him tight. She felt the warmth of his small body against hers, a fleeting comfort in the face of her daunting task. "A task that only I can do."

Ardvek held out a bracelet, intricately woven from the thin, fallen bark of the Mother Tree. "I made this for you," he said, his voice still laced with sleep. "So you do not forget me." The gesture was so innocently tender that it brought a lump to Ellagar's throat. His eyes, which often reflected the golden light of his dragon heritage, now shone with the purity of a child's love and concern.

"I could never forget you, my sweet," she murmured, taking the bracelet and slipping it onto her wrist beside the one from the Concordance. It felt warm and alive, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Around her, the swamp grew quieter, almost respectful, as she touched the gift. "This will keep us connected." She kissed him on the forehead, her own eyes echoing the gold of his. The simple act of his gift filled her with a fierce protectiveness and a deep, abiding love.

With a final look at the sleeping camp, Ellagar turned to Sageclaw. The ancient dragon had moved closer, his emerald eyes gleaming with understanding. She slipped onto his back, feeling the power beneath his scales, the warmth of his ancient spirit. "Ardvek," she called softly, "Wake Thelara and tell her I have gone on my errand. Tell her... tell her..." The words she wanted to say caught in her throat, and she settled for, "Tell her I will return by tomorrow evening at the latest."

The youngling nodded solemnly, the gravity of the moment not lost on him. "Be safe, Sister," he whispered, his eyes shining bright in the morning light. Ellagar felt a pang of love and pride for the boy, his bravery and innocence a beacon in the encroaching darkness.