Chapter 3: Night of the Green Moon

The next two days goes by in a blur. You keep as fast a pace as possible, and for the first night since the attack you can't see flames of the Burning Mammoths at night. You are about to go to bed for the night when you are called to Grandfather Eiwa's side. He has taken a turn for the worse, and it might be his last night.

As you pass into the tent, nearby mourners repeat a simple chant: "By Fandarra’s blood you were born; into Blood Mother’s womb you return." Argakoa the Songsinger is already at Eiwa’s side, repeating the chant. She lowers her voice so you and Eiwa can speak, but she doesn’t stop chanting.

"Young Tusks," whispers the dying man, his deeply lined face and wavering voice so brittle and ancient. "It’s time I told you the rest of the legend of the Primordial Flame. I have already told Songsinger Argakoa. Her mind is like soft wood. She carves my ramblings into stories, so she can help you on your quest"—he takes a deep, ragged breath—"when I am gone."

Argakoa gently places her strong hand on Eiwa’s shoulder. The old man tells his tale in halting gasps. "My mother, Sidke. She and the others—the ones who would become the first Broken Tusks—they took the flame to Red Cat Cave. East of here. They hid it there, under the protection of a noble beast named Syarstik. Every year after, we would go to make sure it was safe."

"But," Eiwa wheezes, "it was not. A handful of winters, and then it was gone. My mother saw with her own eyes. The terrible, tormented spirit of Syarstik. The empty dais, where the flame once rested. Syarstik’s enraged spirit attacked her, and she fled with the other Tusks. We never went back."

He lets out a sickening cough before finishing. "Go there. We do not know who took the flame. But Syarstik, angry as he is, might still remember. Calm his spirit and find the flame. We have waited far too long. It is time to use the Primordial Flame to reunite our people."