Dragontide’s Daughter: The First Book of Dragontide

1
Need

In the shadowy confines of their modest home, seventeen-year-old Ellie Harper kept a vigil by her grandpa Joe's bedside. The soft murmur of the great lake just beyond their doorstep and the distant music from the springtime Iceberg Festival stood in stark relief against the oppressive hush that had enveloped the room. The only other sounds were the faint rustle of Dr. Bennett's movements as he concluded his examination, the clink of medical instruments gently laid to rest.

Dr. Bennet carefully stowed his stethoscope in a bag that bore the marks of countless house calls. He then retrieved a tiny bottle from the depths of his medical kit, its contents obscured by the dim light.

"Is that Elixiron?" Ellie's voice broke the silence as she fixed her gaze on the vial now resting on the side table.

With a weary exhale, Dr. Bennett met Ellie's anxious stare. "Elixiron is a rare commodity, Ellie. And its cost is steep, well beyond the means of Crystal Shores' residents."

The finality in his tone felt like a cold tide washing over Ellie. The injustice of it all—that wealth could dictate the value of a life—kindled a spark of defiance within her. "But if it could heal him, shouldn't we try? Grandpa's life is worth more than any price tag."

Dr. Bennett's response was gentle. "We Shorlings are simple folks, sustained by the bounty of Lake Dragontide.el Despite its generosity, none of us, not I or even Mayor Wright, have the means to afford it."

"But it's not his time to die, is it? He should have many more years ahead of him." Tears glistened in Ellie's eyes as she fought to hold them back.

"You're right, Ellie. Your grandpa's time is not meant to be up yet." He paused as if weighing his words carefully. "The truth is, this illness that has gripped him is quite mysterious. I have never seen anything like it before."

Ellie's heart sank. "So there's nothing we can do to help him?"

Dr. Bennett nodded slowly. "There is one thing that could potentially help him, but it's a long shot." He reached into his bag again and pulled out a small notebook filled with scribbled notes and diagrams.

"This is my research on Elixiron." A nearby lamp cast a warm pool of light as he flipped through the worn pages. "I have been studying its effects for years, and I believe it has the power to cure your grandpa's illness."

Ellie leaned in, her curiosity piqued by the meticulous diagrams and handwritten notes.

"We can gather most of what we need—Starlight Dew, Glimmerpetal Powder, Auron Herb, Silvermist Essence, and Heartwood Bark." He tapped the page with a finger gnarled from years of practice.

A thrill of hope sparked within Ellie, bright and sudden as a shooting star. "You mean we can make the Elixiron?"

"These ingredients," he sighed, "as rare and costly as they are, we can manage. But there's one more elusive and guarded." His eyes met Ellie's. "It's the Dragonscale Moss from Thornveil Wilds. And no one dares to tread those grounds."

Ellie's heart sank at the mention of the Thornveil Wilds, a place shrouded in mystery and danger. As far as she knew, no one had ever ventured there and returned alive.

"Don't be filling her head with such notions," Ellie's mom said, wiping her hands on her apron. "We can't have her chasing fairy tales, especially in the forbidden forest."

"I apologize, Sarah." He closed the notebook and tucked it back into his bag. "I didn't mean to sow seeds of reckless hope."

"I suppose there's no way to get the Elixiron, then." Ellie's voice trailed off as she eyed the modest bottle of medicine resting innocuously beside Grandpa Joe's makeshift bed in the corner of the living room. "There's got to be something more effective than that stuff you've left for Grandpa." The word ‘stuff' held an edge of disdain—not for Dr. Bennett, but for the sheer helplessness of their situation.

Dr. Bennett stood; his chair scraped lightly against the wooden floor. "There may be another way. I've heard rumors of a map that leads to Elixiron hidden somewhere in Crystal Shores. It was said to belong to an old sailor who used to live here many years ago."

Ellie fiddled with the necklace around her neck, its pendant an intricately carved dragon. It was a cherished family heirloom, passed down from her great-grandmother, linking generations with its enduring presence. "Do you know where it's at?"

"I don't know where this map could be," Dr. Bennett said. "It could be a lost treasure or just a rumor."

Grandpa Joe's weakened frame shuddered with each cough; his hand trembled as he raised it to wipe the phlegm from his mouth. With a weak voice, he managed to speak, "That old sailor is me, doctor."

The room fell into a hush. Ellie's gaze locked onto her grandfather. "Do you have the map to the Elixiron, Grandpa?"

Grandpa Joe glanced at Ellie, his eyes reflecting both love and apprehension. "Life's currents, my dear Ellie," he began, his tone grave yet tinged with nostalgia for past voyages. "They ebb and flow like our beloved Dragontide. It's not just about reaching shore but about enduring the storms that test our mettle."

Ellie tried to make sense of her grandfather's cryptic words. His wise sayings often left her more puzzled than enlightened. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the weathered wooden table that stood between them. "What do you mean, Grandpa?"

He took a sip of his tea, the steam curling up from the chipped mug. "Ah, Ellie, the Elixiron is a legend as old as the lake itself. They say it holds the power to heal any ailment, to grant life everlasting. But the path to reach it is fraught with perils unseen, dangers lurking beneath tranquil waters."

Shaking her head, Ellie couldn't bring herself to accept such a passive stance toward the looming shadow of death. Her eyes wandered to the old chest that rested in the shadowy corner of the room, a silent guardian of Grandpa Joe's vast and vibrant history. She knew every inch of its contents, having explored it with wide-eyed wonder since she was a child. Maps that spoke of distant shores, and exotic trinkets from lands Ellie had only dreamed of.

Ellie leaned back in her chair, the old wood creaking under her weight. She crossed her arms, a skeptical look on her face. "But Grandpa, you haven't answered my question. Do you have the map?"

Grandpa Joe's weathered face creased with worry. "Ellie, you must understand how perilous that forest is, child. Promise me, promise me now, that you won't venture into those forbidden lands."

Ellie's mother added, "Your grandpa speaks true words, Ellie. Please promise us you won't risk your life for this."

Reluctantly nodding in agreement under their watchful gazes, Ellie felt the weight of her promise settle heavily on her shoulders.

As thoughts raced through her mind searching for another solution, she remembered the upcoming Iceberg Festival competition offering a substantial prize purse. Ellie turned to her mother. "What if I were to win first prize in the festival's competition, would that be enough to buy Elixiron."

With a sad smile, Ellie's mother shared a simple saying passed down through generations: "A storm may rage, but the calm waters always return."

The words lingered in the air, carrying little comfort and hope. "Why do Shorlings speak with proverbs? I have no gift for those wise thoughts."

Ellie's mother sighed with a weariness that seemed to transcend mere fatigue. "Ellie, dear, could you help me dry the dishes? It'll keep your mind occupied."

Though her thoughts were still on Elixiron, Ellie nodded. She followed her mother into the plain kitchen, the scent of home-cooked meals mingled with the sweet smells from the festival that floated in through the window.

As Ellie took her place at the sink, her mother passed her a damp plate, the ceramic still warm from the soapy water. Ellie accepted it, running the worn towel over its surface.

In the other room, she could hear Dr. Bennett gathering his belongings, the swish of fabric and the faint clink of glass vials. His footsteps approached, signaling his impending departure.

"Thank you for your care, Doctor," Ellie's mother said. "We'll follow your instructions to the letter."

Dr. Bennett's reply was muffled, but Ellie could discern the solemn cadence of his words. A moment later the door opened, and a gust of crisp lake air swept through the house, carrying with it the distant strains of festive music.

Before the door could swing shut, another figure appeared on the threshold. "Hey, El!"

Ellie recognized the familiar voice instantly. It was Tyler Green, her best friend since childhood and partner in countless adventures along the shores of Lake Dragontide. She hastily dried the cup she was holding and placed it in the cupboard. "I'm gonna enter the competition."

Tyler's eyes lit up with excitement, a wide grin spreading across his face as he clapped Ellie on the back. "Ellie, this is brilliant! Entering the contest is a fantastic idea. But I think the entry deadline is by midnight tonight."

As Ellie dried a delicate porcelain plate that her mother had just washed, the cozy kitchen was suddenly invaded by a fierce gust of wind. The windows rattled ominously, their panes vibrating in protest against the unexpected intrusion of the outside world. It was as if nature itself was trying to convey a message, whispering secrets of an uncertain future that loomed ahead.

"Whoa." Tyler's expression shifted from joy to mild concern as he glanced at the quivering windows. "That was intense. Almost like the universe is giving us a heads-up or something."

Ellie paused for a moment, then she carefully placed the now gleaming plate back in its designated spot. "Maybe it's a sign." Her gaze drifted toward the turbulent sky visible through the window. "A sign that things are about to change."

2
Of Clay and Petals

The swirling clouds subsided, allowing the afternoon sun to cast a warm glow through the dusty window, illuminating the back room where Ellie and her mother spent countless hours giving life to their imaginations through crafts. Today, however, the room had been commandeered for a singular purpose. A table, once cluttered with fabrics and threads, now lay bare except for the mound of clay at its center and the various sculpting tools meticulously arranged beside it.

With Tyler across the table, Ellie's hands moved with the precision of an artist, shaping the soft earth into the intricate form of a Moon Flower. Her gaze was focused on the unfolding petals. Strands of hair occasionally fell across her face as she leaned in to perfect a detail.

"The Moon Flower," she began, her fingers tracing the outline of what would be one of the flower's iconic luminescent petals, "is more than just a plant; it's a piece of night sky trapped in bloom."

"Right you are," Tyler said from behind a thick tome he had pulled from the shelf. The book, its spine cracked from age and pages yellowed, was open to a chapter dedicated to the flora of their world, specifically the forbidden blooms of the Wilds.

"Listen to this," he said. "The Moon Flower, native only to Thornveil Wilds, possesses petals that glow with a soft light under the moon's gaze. It is said that whoever holds a petal of the Moon Flower will be granted visions of truth beyond mortal sight." He glanced up at Ellie. "Can you imagine? Visions of truth."

Ellie paused, the clay cool beneath her fingertips. She knew the lore well— too well, perhaps. "That's not all it grants. The Moon Flower is also believed to protect those who carry it from dark enchantments and ill fates. But to pluck it from the earth is to invite the wrath of the forest spirits. They say misfortune befalls anyone foolish enough to disturb its rest."

"Which is why you're making one out of clay instead." Tyler grinned, but the gravity of Ellie's expression sobered him. "You're not actually considering—?"

"Of course not. I don't need it for my project."

"Good."

Ellie's clay Moon Flower was a marvel to behold. Its intricate petals were as delicate as lace, molded with gentle curves and subtle details that mimicked the real flower perfectly. A thin layer of pearlescent paint made each petal seem to glow with a faint luminosity. It was a masterpiece of craftmanship, capturing the ethereal beauty of the flower in a medium of earth and clay.

Tyler's eyes widened in wonder at the sight of the Moon Flower taking shape in Ellie's skilled hands. His fingers twitched with a desire to touch it. "It's incredible; it looks so real. Do you think we can get it to the competition without breaking it?"

"I'll pack it carefully," she said as her fingers shaped another petal. "Actually, it needs to be dried and fired but that can take a few days; and we don't have that luxury."

"We only have a few hours." Tyler glanced at his watch. "We really need to get going, Ellie. The competition will be closing soon for entries, and we can't risk missing out on submitting your project."

Ellie nodded in understanding. She carefully packed the fragile Moon Flower into a box with layers of protective wrapping.

Ellie and Tyler made their way into the living room, where Grandpa Joe lay on the couch. She gently placed the box holding her precious Moon Flower creation on the table next to her grandfather. She turned to face him as he watched her with pride shining in his eyes.

"I'll make sure to bring back the grand prize, Grandpa. Just you wait and see," Ellie said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

Grandpa Joe chuckled softly and took Ellie's hand in his. "I have no doubt about that, my dear Ellie. Remember, success is not just about winning prizes but about the journey you take to get there."

Ellie gave him a hug before turning to her mother, who was folding a basket of laundry while keeping one eye on the simmering soup on the stove.

"Be careful out there, Ellie. And make sure Tyler keeps you safe," her mother said with a teasing smile.

Ellie rolled her eyes playfully at Tyler, who grinned in response. "Don't worry, Mrs. Harper. I'll make sure Ellie doesn't get into too much trouble."

As they stepped out of the house, the storm clouds had parted, revealing the warm glow of the sun. The village streets were adorned with colorful lanterns and fairy lights for the Iceberg Festival. Laughter and music filled the air, blending with the tantalizing scent of sweet treats and savory dishes being prepared for the festivities.

In the distance, Lake Dragontide glistened under the rays of sunlight, its surface dotted with majestic icebergs that sparkled like diamonds in the late afternoon light. The sight was breathtaking, a reminder of the beauty and magic that surrounded them.

"You sure you don't want me to carry that for you?" Tyler gestured toward the box. "It looks pretty heavy."

"I've got it, Ty. It's not that heavy." She adjusted her grip on the box, feeling a surge of pride at her creation.

But just as Ellie took a step forward, her foot caught on a protruding cobblestone. With a yelp, she stumbled forward, unable to regain her balance. The box slipped from her grasp, tumbling to the ground with a resounding crash.

"Oh no!" Ellie winced at the crunch of shattered clay from within the box. She knelt quickly, assessing the damage with a sinking feeling in her chest.

Tyler crouched beside her; his expression filled with concern. "Ellie, are you okay?"

Eloise swallowed hard, carefully moving the shattered fragments that had spilled out of the box and spread across the cobblestones. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized the extent of the damage.

"It's . . . it's ruined." Ellie said, noticing the crestfallen look on Tyler's face. She knew he understood just how much effort she had poured into creating the Moon Flower sculpture, and witnessing it shattered into pieces was a blow to them both. Without a word, he knelt down beside her and began carefully gathering the scattered shards, gently placing each broken fragment back into the box.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," Tyler said, his voice filled with regret as they tidied up the mess.

"How much time do we have left before the competition begins?"

Tyler hesitated for a moment before replying, "Just a few hours."

Ellie took a deep breath, steadying herself as she made a decision. "There's still time."

Tyler's forehead creased as he regarded Ellie with a faintly skeptical look. "Time for what?"

"To get a real Moon Flower." Ellie rose to her feet, dusting off her hands as she looked toward the Thornveil Wilds in the distance.

"Ellie, you can't be serious. The Moon Flower is too dangerous to go after."

However, Ellie was determined. She grabbed the box containing her ruined project and headed toward the old bridge spanning the river between the village and the forbidden forest, with Tyler trailing behind her.

As Ellie and Tyler approached the edge of Wildsedge River the joyful revelry of the festival faded into the distance behind them.

A swift, darkly currented river separated the village from the looming treeline of the Thornveil Wilds. An ancient stone bridge arched over the rushing waters, its weathered blocks of granite grown mossy and mottled over countless seasons. Creeping vines snaked along the bridge's sides, as if nature itself was slowly reclaiming the man-made structure linking the two realms.

Tyler reached out a hand to stop her. "Ellie, are you sure about this? We can't just go in there; it's forbidden for a reason."

Ellie turned to face him. "I know it's risky, but this is my only chance to salvage my project for the competition. Besides, the Moon Flower is said to have powerful properties that could help me win and save Grandpa."

"Your grandpa wouldn't want you going in there, and you know that."

"If it's really as dangerous as they say, why isn't the bridge barricaded? I don't think anyone even mans the guard tower anymore. It can't be that bad on the other side."

 "Everyone, except you, apparently, knows enough to not cross the bridge to the other side," Tyler said. "Even if nothing happens to us and we're fine, they'll know you picked a real Moon Flower. I mean, it's obviously not the clay one you made earlier. And that could get us both in trouble."

"The clay in the box isn't dry." Ellie shook the box. "I'll apply the clay over the flower—hopefully that works."

Tyler shook his head. "If you're going to do that, just make the flower yourself, why pick one?"

"I don't have my tools," Ellie said. "I'll wet the clay down by the river and apply a really thin layer over the flower. It'll look realistic."

"It is realistic," Tyler said, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I don't think it'll work; the flower will fall apart."

"We'll find out," Ellie said cautiously stepping onto the bridge. "You don't have to come with me if you don't want to."

Tyler grumbled and followed Ellie over the bridge and into the forbidden forest.

3
The Forbidden Glow

Ellie's boots sank into the damp moss blanketing the forest floor. An eerie stillness hung heavy in the air, muffling even the faint sounds of the village's festivities. The only noise came from the occasional drip of melted snow from the twisted branches reaching overhead like bony fingers, and the haunting call of an unseen owl. Tyler stood beside Ellie, their breath intermingling in misty clouds in the cool, spring air clinging to the river's edge.

"Have you ever been in here before?" Ellie asked as she walked slowly forward.

Tyler cast his gaze toward the shadowy sprawl of the forest. "When I was a young kid, my friends and I dared each other to go inside. We hadn't gone very far when . . . well," he paused, swallowing hard as if trying to keep down a bitter memory, "we heard a roar echo through the trees. It was like nothing we'd ever heard before. Scared us right out of our wits and sent us running for home."

"A bear?" Ellie asked, continuing to move forward.

"Definitely not a bear. I've heard a bear before in Eldengrove. Anyway, we basically ran for our lives."

Ellie laughed.

Above the forest, the waxing gibbous moon peeked over the horizon, its pale disk rising into the twilight sky painted in hues of dusky blue. Though daylight still clung to the world, shadows lengthened and deepened.

Trees lined the path, their twisted branches forming natural archways leading deeper into the ancient forest. Dappled light filtered through the canopy, casting shadows on the rough bark and undergrowth that created an unsettling atmosphere, as if teetering between dream and nightmare.

"Look at it, Ty." Ellie's voice was filled with a mingling of awe and unease as she gazed at the spectacle unfolding before them. "It's like another realm is reaching out, calling to us."

"Or warning us."

Ellie remembered the stories whispered by the village elders about spirits and ancient magic that might just be more than mere tales told to scare children.

"Are you afraid?" Ellie asked, turning to study Tyler's expression closely, looking for even a hint of apprehension.

He met her gaze. "With you? Never."

The misshapen shadows beckoned like crooked fingers, drawing Ellie deeper into the forest's mysterious depths. Then something caught her eye—a faint luminescence emanating from a patch of foliage ahead.

"Look over there." Ellie pointed toward the source of the eerie glow.

Tyler followed her gesture. "What is that?"

"It must be the Moon Flowers." Ellie was unable to contain the sense of excitement inside her. This was it—the prize that would unlock the path to her grandfather's cure.

"Moon Flowers? Ellie, are you sure we should—"

But she was already moving, drawn toward the ghostly blooms. "Let's check it out."

Ellie hurried forward, her boots crunching twigs underfoot. Tyler rushed to keep up, his earlier worries forgotten as Ellie's excitement proved contagious.

They emerged into a small clearing. Hundreds of delicate white blossoms carpeted the forest floor, their petals casting a pale, almost spectral radiance. It was as if someone had plucked beams of moonlight from the night sky and scattered them amidst the foliage.

"Wow." Ellie was utterly transfixed by the sight before her. Tyler, too, seemed entranced, his features bathed in the gentle glow.

Ellie took a tentative step forward, then another, drawn closer to the captivating blooms. She knelt, reverently brushing her fingers against one of the shimmering petals. It felt like satin caressed by starlight.

Her gaze drifted across the sea of Moon Flowers, drinking in their delicate beauty. This was what she had come for. All she had to do was gather one blossom.

Ellie's fingers hovered mere inches from the stem of a luminous petal She was so close to securing first prize—close enough to practically taste victory.

"Ellie, wait. Don't forget, the book said misfortune befalls anyone foolish enough to disturb its rest."

Ellie froze, her hand suspended in midair as the weight of Tyler's words sank in. "But it also said something about granting visions of truth and protecting."

"I don't know how it can possibly cause both bad luck and good."

Slowly, Ellie pulled her hand back. "It's probably just an old wives' tale anyway. Something the elders made up to scare kids away from the forest."

"And what if it's not?" Tyler's gaze roamed the shadowy fringes of the clearing. "My gran used to say there are older powers at work in these woods—things we can't begin to understand."

Ellie felt uneasy. But the image of her grandfather, withered and feeble in his sickbed, banished any uncertainty. "It's for Grandpa. I won't let some silly superstition stop me from getting the money I need to buy the Elixiron."

"There has to be another way, El. One that doesn't risk angering whatever ancient forces might still linger here."

But Ellie wasn't listening. Her focus had narrowed to the glowing blossom before her, the answer to her grandfather's suffering shimmering in its delicate petals. Without a second thought, she reached out and plucked the bloom.

For a breathless moment, nothing happened. The Moon Flowers continued their ghostly luminescence, bathing the clearing in a mystical glow. Ellie stood upright; the precious blossom cradled gently in her hands as a triumphant smile spread across her face.

"See?" she said, turning to Tyler. "Just an old story to—"

Her words caught in her throat as a sound like creaking timber echoed through the clearing. All around them, the twisted branches of the ancient trees seemed to shudder, shaking off their stillness. A cold dread gripped Ellie as dark shapes began to coalesce within the shadowy depths of the forest.

Heavy footfalls thudded against the loamy earth, joined by a cacophony of eerie groans and snapping twigs. Ellie tried in vain to pinpoint the source of the encroaching sounds.

"Tyler . . ." She took an instinctive step backward, clutching the Moon Flower tightly against her chest.

Twisted humanoid figures, their bodies composed of gnarled bark and reaching branches, lumbered into the clearing. Empty sockets burned with pinpricks of smoldering light as they trained their sightless gazes upon the two intruders. Ellie felt the blood drain from her face as realization took hold—they had awoken the ancient forest guardians.

The nearest guardian let out a groaning bellow that sent tremors rippling through the ground. Its arm—if it could be called such—composed of interwoven vines and branches as thick as a man's torso, lashed out with startling quickness.

Ellie barely had time to react before the blow caught her squarely in the chest, expelling the air from her lungs with brutal force. She felt herself lifted from her feet, the world spinning wildly around her as she hurtled backward. Her body slammed into the unforgiving bark of a towering oak, sending lances of fiery pain shooting through her.

Dazed and wheezing, Ellie collapsed to the ground in a jumbled heap as Tyler scooped her up and dashed back toward the bridge.