Page 8 of Eluvonia
But the cold dread it leaves behind coils tight around my ribs, refusing to let go.
I exhale sharply, forcing the tension from my shoulders. My chamber is dim, the only light seeping in through cracks in the cavern walls, casting long, uneven shadows across the stone. I let my gaze sweep over the familiar space—the worn blankets, my scattered gear, the bow propped against the wall.
Nothing is out of place. Nothing waiting to strike from the dark.
“Just a dream,” I murmur, though my voice is rough, uneven. Running a hand through my tangled red hair, I push the lingering unease aside and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The cold stone bites against my bare feet.
Habit kicks in.
I reach for my quiver and bow, slipping the straps over my shoulders. The weight is familiar, grounding. As I step outside my chamber, I take a right down the winding tunnel, my steps steady but quick. The cavern opens up ahead, sprawling and alive with movement.
Makeshift tents of fabric and tarps stretch across the rocky expanse. The murmur of voices hums through the air, punctuated by the occasional clang of metal and bursts of laughter.
Smoke drifts lazily from the last of the morning fires, carrying the scent of damp earth and charred wood. Somewhere, the rich aroma of cooking venison still lingers.
I weave through the crowd, nodding to those who acknowledge me, though I don’t linger. My mind is still tangled in the remnants of my dream, the heavy press of my father’s rejection, the firelit image of the Dragon—
Something leaps out from behind a stack of crates.
I jerk back, my heart slamming into my ribs as my hand flies to the dagger at my hip. But then I catch the glint of mischievous green eyes beneath a mop of short blonde hair.
“Gotcha!” Esra crows, doubling over in laughter, her whole body shaking with delight.
I release the breath I was holding and drop my hand from my weapon.
“One of these days, I’m going to stop falling for that.”
“Oh, Aer,” she sighs, wiping a fake tear from the corner of her eye. “You’d be so lost without me.”
I huff, trying to hold onto my annoyance, but Esra is practically vibrating with amusement, and it’s impossible to stay mad when she looks like she just won a game I didn’t even know I was playing. Instead, I settle for a light punch to her arm.
She gasps, clutching at the spot like I’d just driven a dagger through her. “Oh no, my arm! How will I ever practice medicine again?”
I cross my arms. “If only there were some kind of… I don’t know, trained healer around to help you.”
“Tragic,” she sighs, shaking her head dramatically. “Guess I’ll just die.”
I snort, but before I can reply, Esra’s eyes light up.
“Speaking of trained healers,” she starts, launching into an enthusiastic ramble about some new herb she’s found—King’s Wort, or something like that. Apparently, it’s useful for fevers, infections, wounds—everything short of bringing the dead back to life.
“Not that you’d know,” she adds sweetly, “considering, you know… yourincident.”
I nod absently, letting her words wash over me, but my mind is elsewhere. She’s talking about the time I nearly killed a scout by mixing up Banesbreath and Verdance. It had been an accident—a mistake anyone could have made—but Esra never lets me forget it.
“Oh, you remember, don’t you, Aer?” she says, her voice dripping with false innocence. “That poor guy was coughing up foam for hours! So scary!” A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, barely hidden behind an exaggerated shudder.
I try to listen, I really do, but healing was never my strong suit. And Esra knows that.
“So where have you been?” Esra finally asks, breaking through my distraction. “You and Leyley disappeared after bringing that deer—amazing, by the way. Come on, let me get you some stew. You look like you could use it.”
Before I can protest, she tugs me toward one of the fires. I let her. Sitting on a worn log, I absently kick at a loose stone near my foot.
Esra ladles thick venison stew from a large cauldron into a wooden bowl, her movements swift and practiced. “The twins told me about the Dragon sighting.”
My jaw tightens.
Esra pauses, handing me the bowl. “I assume he turned you away again?”
