Chapter 7
The Elder's Tale
Danguolė seeks out Elara, the town elder, whose cryptic stories and knowledge of local history hold the key. Elara's words, once puzzling, now offer vital clues to the forgotten past.
The air in Elara’s cottage was thick with the scent of dried herbs and old stories. Sunlight, dappled and warm, filtered through the lace curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing like tiny, silent sprites. Danguolė stood on the threshold, her heart a hummingbird against her ribs. She had always felt a certain reverence for Elara, the oldest resident of their little town, a woman whose eyes held the wisdom of a hundred seasons. But today, that reverence was tinged with a nervous urgency. The whispers, usually a gentle murmur in the background of her life, had become a frantic chorus, all pointing towards this small, cluttered dwelling.
“Come in, child, come in,” Elara’s voice, like the rustle of dry leaves, beckoned her inside. The old woman sat by the hearth, her hands, gnarled as ancient roots, busy with a piece of embroidery. A half-finished tapestry depicting a vibrant, swirling sky lay in her lap.
Danguolė stepped over the threshold, the familiar scent of woodsmoke and something indefinably sweet wrapping around her. “Thank you, Elara. I… I needed to speak with you.”
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