Book of Ellagar

Chapter 15: Consequences

Thelara darted away, swift as a marsh hare, running towards the sounds. Ellagar hobbled after her, leaning heavily on her staff for support. Ellagar felt so slow again—the earlier battle when Thelara had died replaying in her mind. She battled the rising tide of fear as she struggled forward.

She stopped, panting heavily, and glared at the Mother Tree. "You know you could do something instead of standing there in all your grandeur!"

A tinkling voice in her head answered, "You do know how to ask for aid—although civility always helps." Light flared around Ellagar, and a tang like cool, refreshing mint filled the air. Her pain vanished. "Now run, child, you can grovel later!"

She bit back a retort, torn between irritation and gratitude. Ellagar chose silence and ran. She knew when to hold her tongue, and the real-world combat ahead was more pressing.

Pushing through the dense reeds, she found the battle underway between Dragon Cultists and her family. The clash of weapons and cries of combat filled the air, mingling with the damp scent of decaying leaves. Verak was dark shadows again, his left hand a claw black as night, tearing through his enemies as he protected his brother. Ardvek stood back, using his sling with deadly precision, the sharp crack of stones hitting their targets echoing through the swamp. The pixies harried the Cultists with berries and sticks, their high-pitched taunts blending with the sounds of battle. The metallic tang of blood and her own fear permeated the air, adding to the chaotic atmosphere.

Thelara was a blur of motion that left afterimages in the dim light. Her staff whirled through the air, striking with the force of a thunderclap, while her dragonborn claws slashed with precision. Each movement was a seamless blend of grace and ferocity, her strikes landing with deadly accuracy. The cultists barely had time to react as she danced around them, her eyes blazing with determination. The sound of her staff connecting with flesh and bone echoed through the clearing, mingling with the cries of her enemies. Her presence was a whirlwind of lethal intent, leaving chaos in her wake.

Ellagar channeled into the swamp plants and used the vines to snare and squeeze the life from those who threatened her younglings.

Ardvek gave a choked scream as two of the cultists trapped him in a net and began dragging him off. A cudgel from another sent Verak reeling, and cultists moved to swarm the youngling.

Her heart cried to aid Ardvek, but her mind knew it was Verak that needed to survive. "Damn you, Grandmother, for making me choose!" A dark chuckle in her mind told her Grandmother was listening. "Oh, there you are, child. I thought you had died..."

"You wish. I don't have time for this," Ellagar shot back and severed the connection. She knew there would be consequences. She sighed; it was just one more thing Grandmother would no doubt make her pay for.

She rushed toward Verak and saw he was back on his feet, while his would-be captors lay dead. She spun and moved towards Ardvek. She saw a mage opening a portal of escape, and then heard the crunch and rending of flesh. The mage appeared to be hovering as his lower half was missing. He fell, screaming. Behind him was the large swamp beast with its crown of algae; it gulped down legs and boots. Then the rest of the mage vanished into that massive gullet.

The last cultist—still holding Ardvek—was pulled down by Ellagar's vines. Nearby, she could hear the great beast moving around the shore, harvesting the fresh carrion. Thelara moved quickly to gather anything that might provide a clue.

Verak came up to Ellagar, taking her hand. His eyes held a mixture of humility and newfound understanding. He looked up at her with a rueful grin. "I guess it's a good thing I didn't kill that beast. Turns out you were right about balance. He saved us."