The pale opening widens into a quiet submerged grove. Colossal roots weave through the stone, forming sheltered chambers where cold water drifts in slow, soundless circles.
Hessie aux glides into the grove without waking its stillness. The roots bend faintly toward his shell, their buried pulses answering the wyrm presence without grasping or restraining him.
Hessie aux
The roots recognize the wyrm in me.
The current divides around him into several gentle streams. One curls through a shadowed chamber beneath the roots, another follows pale mineral shelves, and a third descends into blue darkness.
No voice greets Hessie aux, and no creature disturbs the grove. Water slips along his wounded plates, cooling the fissures while the roots maintain their faint, watchful response.
The chamber behind him remains distant and empty of companions; the submerged presence stayed beyond the threshold. Here, only the quiet currents offer direction, rest, or further passage.
Hessie’s immense shell settles where the streams meet, stable beneath the colossal roots. The grove waits without demand, leaving each current open before the ancient guardian.