Varel continues to attend to the hatchling’s needs, being careful to keep herself out of the line of fire of any further burps. The sun has neared setting when Ereazaru finally returns, carrying a small sack over her shoulder.“Ooh!” She coos, upon seeing the baby dragon. “I see I am a little too late! I would have preferred to be here for the hatching, but you all seem to have taken excellent care of her in my absence.” She scoops up the tiny terror and nuzzles it lovingly. “Such a darling! She is so beautiful!”
She looks at Varel. “I knew I could count on you. Tell me, what is your name?”
“Varel,” the young druidess replies quietly, with just a hint of sadness in her voice as she realizes that her days of surrogate motherhood have come to an end. “Varel Dawnsong.”
Ereazaru smiles. “Then I shall name her Ravarellzea,” she declares. “Did you know that dragons have a faultless memory? Indeed, they can recall everything, even their time in the egg. Know that this little one will never forget you, Varel Dawnsong, nor the tenderness she knew in her first days. Long after you have died, your face and name will be remembered, and perhaps your story will be passed on to her own offspring.”
“Likewise,” she adds, “I shall never forget your kindness.” She drops her sack to the ground. “Ravarellzea and I must now depart for a safer haven than this cave. Please accept this gift as a token of my gratitude and goodwill.” She smiles at the party again and walks away, the baby dragon dozing peacefully in her arms as if it belonged there all this time. “Farewell!”
Her departure is followed soon after by a strong rhythmic wind that rustles the forest canopy, as if a massive creature is taking flight.
