Chapter 17: Flash Back: What really happened in Boggy Marsh
Hag Head stepped out of her house into the mist of Boggy Marsh. Her front door swung closed, clicking softly behind her. She paused for a moment and adjusted her robes, shifting the Dragon egg she carried so it was hidden from sight.
Paddy, Seamus, Mr. Elf and Mody had just left and were heading back to their village. She knew she had to hurry on this errand; they were going to need some help getting out of Boggy Marsh. As much as she might have liked to help them more directly, she was worried about drawing attention to them.
Hag Head shuffled forward and then disappeared. She reappeared, instantly, but a long way away from Boggy Marsh. She shuffled on, in her bent and painful way, her walking stick tapping on the solid rock beneath her feet.
With a few cracks and clicks, Hag Head straightened her body. Her ugly walking stick shimmered and changed appearance. The once blackened and gnarly stick was now an impressive, highly polished, black staff, the type a powerful magic user might own.
Her next steps forward were strong and confident. When one was dealing with Dragons, it was a good idea to appear powerful and strong. Showing weakness in front of Dragonkind was not a good idea, it usually ended with them thinking of you as nothing more than a snack.
She arrived at a giant, cavernous space in the mountains, where the Dragon she sought lived. Making no attempt to hide her presence, Hag Head approached a huge, female, Red Dragon who sat watching her with an annoyed look on its massive face.
Hag Head stopped, well within range of the Dragon’s fire breath, but beyond biting reach. She didn’t want to be eaten, before stating her purpose for being here.
“It is not often food serves itself up to me so easily,” the Dragon’s thought sounded in Hag Head’s mind.
“I have come with a gift,” Hag Head replied, politely.
“And what does ‘the one who is not She’ want in return for this, gift?” asked the Dragon, rudely.
Hag Head stiffened slightly at the insult, but responded as though it was what she had expected. “It is a gift, given freely and without price,” she answered, smoothly, holding out the Dragon egg that had been hidden in her robes.
The Dragon’s massive head moved forward and its giant, blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “My egg! You were the one who stole my egg?” The Dragon’s thought was furious, and carried the threat of immediate doom.
“No,” Hag Head replied, quickly and strongly. “The Hand was responsible for the theft. I am returning the egg to its rightful place.”
Stepping forward, she carefully placed the egg in front of the massive Dragon.
The Dragon sniffed gently at the egg, suspicious. “No harm has been done; the egg will hatch,” she thought to Hag Head, while carefully maneuvering the egg under her body. “Still, The Hand has been responsible for much pain and damage. I think I will hunt soon, and see to this problem of The Hand.”
Hag Head nodded, as she backed away. “I will leave you now. I have urgent matters to attend to elsewhere.” With that said, Hag Head spun away, her leafy robes rippling around her.
“Hag Head,” the Dragon’s voice sounded in her mind, “thank you for returning my egg.” The Dragon’s voice was now soft and motherly.
Hag Head smiled one of her truly ugly smiles. “The time of need is coming. The two from one have come, and the other signs are falling into place.”
The Dragon’s great eyes opened wide. She had not expected any of this.
“Will Dragonkind be ready?” Hag Head asked, without turning.
“We will,” the Dragon confirmed.
Hag Head vanished from the cave, reappearing back in Boggy Marsh, outside her house. Her walking stick was once again a charred and blackened branch. Walking with her normal stooped shuffle, she entered her home.
With a casual wave of her hand, her viewing stone appeared on the table in the room. Sitting at the table, she rested her hands on the stone. “Show me the apprentice Lore Master of the Aelfin and his companions,” she commanded the stone.
The viewing stone’s milky interior shifted and swirled, and Hag Head was suddenly able to see Mr. Elf and his friends, as they trudged through Boggy Marsh. “Good,” she thought, “I still have time to help them.”
Closing her eyes and concentrating on a specific thought, she reached out with her mind. “Glute?”
“Hello, Hag Head?” Glute’s questioning reply came back immediately.
Hag Head smiled. “Hello, Glute. Some of those under your care have wandered into Boggy Marsh.”
“Oh dear, who was it that was so foolish?” Glute asked, her thought tinged with concern.
“The Aelf and the Leprechauns,” Hag Head advised.
“I can understand the Leprechauns, they’re young and adventurous, but the Aelf?” Glute’s thought carried the strong impression she was shaking her head with disapproval.
Hag Head cackled. “None of them had any choice in the matter; they were compelled.”
“Do you intend to keep them?” Glute asked, with a hint of worry. Glute knew the rule better than anyone, ‘those who go in, don’t come out’. Boggy Marsh was Hag Head’s domain, and no-one crossed Hag Head.
“Actually, I want them out of here as quickly as possible. Can you arrange a door for them?” Hag Head asked.
“Certainly, Hag Head, if that is your wish,” Glute responded.
“They are on their way to the boundary now. Everything being well, they should arrive before the sun goes down,” Hag Head said.
“We’ll be ready.”
“Oh, one more thing, Glute. They have an Invisibility Bird with them. The bird can leave with them,” Hag Head said, while scratching at an itch on the end of her nose.
“Understood,” Glute replied.
“Thank you, Glute. For your help, you may have anything that follows them out. Now, please excuse me, I need to check on their progress.” Hag Head shut down the mental link to Glute and returned her focus to the viewing stone.
Some Fugglies had caught the companions and a fight was underway. Hag Head watched silently, as the companions defeated the attacking Fugglies. Each time a Fuggly was killed, Hag Head winced, as if the death caused her discomfort or pain.
Hag Head continued to watch, as the companions made their way toward the boundary. Probing ahead of the companions with her senses, Hag Head scowled. What was this? An army of Fugglies was taking up position along the boundary line. This had to be the work of the Gold Dragon. Damn and drat that creature. She could ruin everything.
Hag Head’s first reaction was to leave her house to go clear a path for the companions. But she knew The Hand was out there, and such an act would not only draw him to her, it would also bring the twins to his attention. She would just have to trust the Aelf would find a way through.
Hag Head watched with rising concern, as the companions separated, with Paddy, Seamus and Mody leaving the Aelf behind. What were they up to? She watched over his shoulder, as Mr. Elf prepared a packet of something from his pack, checked his bow and selected an arrow. Interesting, she thought.
There was a sudden, huge energy surge out in Boggy Marsh, near the boundary. The power of it made Hag Head’s skin tingle and itch. It could only be the swords. That could attract all sorts of unwanted attention.
In the viewing stone, Hag Head saw the Aelf squinting up into the swirling mist, waiting for something. Then he threw a packet up into the air. Without pause, the bow was in his hands, and an arrow was on its way. She noticed the Aelf flinch in pain when he released the arrow.
Hag Head knew instantly the arrow was going to miss the packet. She reached out with a tiny part of her power, and shifted the packet, just enough that the arrow slammed through it, spraying the contents into the misty air.
This was bad! No Aelf, worthy of the name, would have missed that shot, not even by the small amount that Mr. Elf had been off. Something was seriously wrong with him, but what? Hag Head replayed in her mind everything she knew ab
out Mr. Elf, everything he had done and said. With growing understanding, her eyes widened. How could she have been so stupid? She had seen exactly what the Aelf had done, but had been so caught off guard by it all that she hadn’t realized the importance of that one event.
The Aelf had flown with Seamus to get him away from the Gold Dragon. She had watched him do it through the viewing stone, with Paddy standing at her side.
From the very beginning, the Aelfin have one restriction, one rule that must not be broken. Under pain of death, the Aelfin must not fly, while carrying another living thing.
Mr. Elf was Broken, dying, and it would be a slow and painful death.
Broken! Hag Head considered this word. It had meaning for her. She recalled an old and obscure section of an untrusted thread from the Aelfin oracles. ‘The Broken shall lead the way.’ It had not been trusted, because The Broken never lived longer than three days. And the last day was usually spent unconscious.
Drawing a deep and raspy breath, Hag Head returned her attention to the viewing stone. The companions were looking at the Gold Dragon lay on the ground in front of them. The Dragon raised its great head and blew a pitiful trickle of fire at them, then its head flopped ungracefully back to the ground.
She had to hand it to the Aelf; he was quite resourceful and clever. Hag Head nodded her approval, as the companions made their way past rows of sleeping Fugglies to arrive at the boundary. There, the twins and the swords worked at the boundary’s invisible wall, and a passageway opened for them to escape through.
Hag Head stepped away from the viewing stone. The image of the companions, as Glute welcomed them, faded into a milky swirling fog. ‘The Two’ and ‘The Broken’ were together. She had been correct; the time was very near, but only if the Aelf survived long enough to play his part.
What to do? What to do? Hag Head fretted and worried. Eventually she closed her eyes and allowed her consciousness to drift into the ‘no space’. “Have you been paying attention?” she asked, abruptly.
In the pitch black of the ‘no space’ the light of The She glowed into existence, “What do you want?” The She asked, quite rudely. “I’ve been busy. There’s a lot of work left to do!”
Hag Head smiled one of her especially ugly smiles. “That Aelf you spoke with is Broken.” She did so enjoy these little chats, especially when she caught The She off guard.
The light of The She pulsed brightly. “How?”
Hag Head grimaced. “The usual way: he flew, carrying one of the twins. It is most likely he saved the lad’s life.”
The glowing light flickered. “But he must have known.”
“Yes,” Hag Head agreed. “He is the apprentice Lore Master for the Aelfin. He certainly should have known what the result of that action had to be.”
The light dulled and then brightened. “A leap of faith, perhaps?”
“Maybe, or maybe he just didn’t know,” Hag Head replied.
“Watch him. If you get the opportunity, do what you can to help him. And have Glute send another one of the villagers with the twins when they leave the village.”
The She’s voice contained more worry that Hag Head would have expected. “If he is the one the oracle speaks of, something will happen and he will survive it,” Hag Head offered.
“And if not, another will provide the way.” The light of The She flared and then was gone.
Hag Head was back in her room. She would just have to let this play out, and wait for an opportunity to help. With a deep sigh, she sat down at the table and placed her hands on the viewing stone. Fog swirled inside the stone, cleared, and she saw Mr. Elf and the companions move about the village. She felt a moment of sadness when she saw the Aelf wince in pain, as he lost control to a hacking, raspy coughing fit that had him spiting out thick phlegm.
That night she checked on the Aelf again, and she watched him toss and turn in his bed, unable to sleep, or even to get comfortable. The Aelf was following the way of the Broken. He didn’t have long to live.