The Awakening (5 page)

Jahrra snorted inwardly. At least she could count on him for some constancy amid the chaos. This was all too strange and unsettling, going from being a poor Nesnan to the only human being on Ethoes; to being a girl fleeing for her life, to this, an object of worship. But if Jahrra was being completely honest with herself she wasn’t too surprised. The past several months of her life had consisted of one shocking revelation after another and even on those days that Jaax was bothersome, it was nice having him nearby if only to explain things to her later.

The entire community eventually dispersed after an encouraging announcement from Aydehn in which he promised they would all get a chance to spend time with her later. Jahrra shivered at that. She wasn’t sure if she would be required to sit and greet everybody, one at a time, or if she would be allowed an hour’s rest before they returned to gather about her like bees around a patch of lavender.

As the people of Crie got back to their chores most of them made an effort to cast Jahrra one last glance of awe. She tried to ignore it but it was a bit hard and she worried that they might not even give her an hour before seeking her out once again.

The sound of Aydehn’s voice, close but spoken at a normal level, snapped her out of her thoughts. “How long will you be staying with us, Raejaax?”

Jaax furrowed his brow.

“No more than a week. There is a strong chance that we are being hunted and the sooner we get to Lidien the better. Besides,” he said heavily, “the longer we stay here, the more damage we could bring upon you.”

Aydehn nodded grimly then took a deep breath. “Best we take you to the Tree before you leave then. The day before you depart perhaps? That will give you time to rest from your long journey.”

Jahrra felt her heart skip a beat. She looked to the woman who had so openly embraced her earlier only to find her smiling with great joy. She glanced at Jaax, who looked solemn as ever. He gave her a curt nod when he saw the question in her eyes:
the Tree? The Sacred Oak of Ethoes?

“But for now we must find you a place to rest.” Aydehn arched a brow at Jaax, smiling comfortably. “Ah, I’m afraid we don’t have any huts big enough for you Raejaaxorix, but surely we can offer Drisihn, ah, I mean Jahrra, a room for the week?”

Jaax shook his head. “We thank you for your hospitality but we are happy to camp just along the edge of the village.”

“Are you sure?” Aydehn asked, eying Jahrra to try and gauge her opinion.

Jahrra would have liked having a roof over her head but when she glanced at Jaax, the hard look in his eyes warned her not to argue. Releasing an infinitesimal sigh she smiled weakly and nodded.

“Very well, if that is what you wish. There is a nice little alcove tucked into the hillside just to the south of my own home with several trees surrounding it. I think it’s big enough to accommodate you Jaax and there is even a small ring of stones set up for a fire.”

He grinned mischievously and lowered his voice, addressing Jahrra, “It’s where the young men like to camp out after a great hunt so they can boast freely about their exploits without annoying the young women with their foolishness. I’m sure the exaggerated tales would be enough to make the youngest of our girls roll their eyes.”

Jaax cocked a brow. “Speaking from experience, Aydehn?”

The Resai elf barked out a hearty laugh and slapped Jaax just below the shoulder. It was a friendly gesture but Jahrra half expected her guardian to growl, or at least scowl, but all he did was smile.

“Absolutely!” Aydehn declared. “What is the point in retelling hunting tales if one cannot make them as outrageous as possible?”

Jahrra smiled and felt her tense muscles loosen a little. Aydehn wasn’t so bad and she was sure the rest of the Resai in Crie were just as friendly and accommodating.
Think about it Jahrra
, she told herself,
if you were in their place, wouldn’t you gawk if the human found abandoned in your village returned out of the blue after seventeen years?

With that thought to ease her mind, she followed Aydehn and Jaax back through the village, a weary Phrym following faithfully behind.

***

The night they arrived in Crie Jaax and Jahrra decided to decline Aydehn’s invitation to join the villagers around the communal fire.

“We’re quite weary and I think everyone has had enough excitement for the day,” Jaax told him as Jahrra sought out a soft patch of earth to lay her bedroll.

At the elf’s dismayed cry Jaax continued, “That being said, we would be more than happy to join you tomorrow night if it is your wish.”

“Very well,” Aydehn conceded, “though I’m sure Thenya will hound me through the rest of the night.”

“Surely she will,” Jaax answered in good humor.

Aydehn mumbled something else as he traipsed off down the narrow trail they had followed to reach this secluded, yet nearby spot.

Jahrra sighed and threw her head back to look up into the trees. She could see now why the young men would want to camp here after a hunt. It was just far enough away from the village to offer some privacy but close enough in case those camping here needed help for any reason. The rocky hillside curved gently, offering a shelter from the wind, and the interlaced branches above would keep them dry should it rain.

A whooshing sound and the familiar crackle and scent of a fire drew Jahrra’s attention away from her thoughts. As she had been daydreaming Jaax had gathered up a sizeable pile of wood and had started a fire within the small ring of rocks.

Jahrra finished with her bedroll, shot a glance at Phrym to make sure he was content, then plopped onto her blankets, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees. She tilted her head and glanced up at Jaax. He was watching her, just as she’d presumed. She set her jaw and refused to be the first one to look away, or to speak. After a whole minute she gave up, sighing and resting her eyes on the fire instead.

Eventually she heard her guardian release a sigh. “What have I done now?”

She barely kept herself from grinning. Instead she shrugged and, still watching the fire, she said, “You could have warned me.”

When she looked at Jaax he was frowning in confusion.

“Warned you?”

Jahrra spread her right arm, gesturing in the direction of Crie. “You know, about how I would be received here. The, um, overwhelming adoration.”

“Ahhh,” Jaax said, and now he was smiling. “I honestly wasn’t sure how they would accept you Jahrra, truly.”

He sounded forthright so Jahrra let it drop, sort of. “Well, you
had
to have some idea that it might be like this.”

He was shaking his head. “I knew that Aydehn and Thenya would be delighted to see you but I didn’t expect everyone else’s . . . reaction.”

“Why were Aydehn and Thenya so glad to see me?”

Jahrra placed both her hands behind her and leaned back on her arms.

“Because they were the couple that took you in when you were first found. It was Thenya who last held you before you were strapped to my neck.”

A strange feeling passed over Jahrra then and she looked away from Jaax. How strange it was to hear about your life when you were far too young to remember those who had loved you. When you were too young to appreciate what they were giving up. Jahrra let out a breath and to her surprise, it carried a wave of emotion.

“Jaax,” she said quietly, “did you have to take me away from here?”

He was quiet for a long time, only the crackle of the fire, the sounds of the village winding down for the evening, and the soft breathing of Phrym just paces away to break the silence.

“I mean,” Jahrra continued after clearing her throat, “I mean, I’m not saying that I’m sorry that you did, but really, simply out of curiosity, could you have left me here? Come to visit me here instead of at the Castle Guard Ruin? What I’m asking is, why was Crie not where I was meant to be, especially with the Oak being here?”

Jahrra finally looked at Jaax, only to find him giving her one of those beneath-the-surface looks. Eventually, he too looked away, off into the trees, seeking some imaginary answer to her question perhaps.

“Because of Hroombra,” he finally said, so quietly she almost missed it. “Hroombra couldn’t have traveled here, as you well know, and he needed to see you, to know you were real, to have a say in your upbringing.”

Jahrra looked Jaax straight in the eye, her own eyes prickling with unshed tears. For once she dared to ask him a question she wouldn’t have had the temerity to ask him before they were thrown together on this crazy adventure: “Why?”

Jaax looked at her again but this time it seemed he had finally found something just beneath her skin, something that perhaps he’d been looking for all along.

“Because no one else in all of Ethoes could have raised you to be as strong, as bright or as understanding of the plight of those suffering in this world than Hroombra. And I can see before me without a doubt that you were, and are now, exactly where you should have been and where you should be.”

It took a few moments for Jahrra to sort through the dragon’s words but when she did their core meaning shocked her into silence. Jaax had just paid her an extraordinary compliment and she had no idea how to respond.

So, instead of babbling some nonsense in an attempt at awkward appreciation, Jahrra remained quiet and the two of them spent the next several minutes just sitting in silence, absorbing the cadence of what had just passed between them as the sounds and smells of twilight merged with the rush of the Saem River. Jaax didn’t feel burdened by her presence, Jahrra could see that now. And furthermore, she realized that she actually
cared
. This revelation left her feeling warmer, as if the ice around her heart after Hroombra’s death had started to melt. Jahrra sighed and smiled at Jaax, the only thanks she could muster. His returning grin and slight nod acknowledged that he recognized her gratitude.

Eventually, exhaustion from the long day won over and Jahrra collapsed upon her bedroll and for the first time in two months she was not afraid of falling asleep. For some reason or another, she didn’t think the nightmares would be troubling her tonight and perhaps, never again.

-
Chapter Four
-

A Guided Tour and a Day of Mischief

Jahrra was famished the next morning and for once it was her stomach that woke her up and not Jaax or some horrible replaying of her memories. When she opened her eyes she was surprised to find only Phrym standing above her, gazing down with his smoky eyes as if to inquire about breakfast. When all she did was blink at him, he nudged her with a velvety nose, rumbling as he did so. Jahrra laughed and pushed him away.

“Alright,” she grumbled good-naturedly. “You don’t know where Jaax went, do you?”

Of course he only stared at her then dragged his hoof into the leafy earth. The gleeful shouts of children playing and the sharp tang of smoke filled the air. Jahrra found a clean set of clothes and ducked behind a niche in the alcove to change. Once she had her boots on, she slipped Phrym’s bridle over his forehead and led him down the narrow path that wove through the trees.

As she walked Jahrra thought about how nice it would be to stay in single place for more than one night. Her ankle and knee were finally healed, the bruises having disappeared a few weeks ago, but on cold, foggy mornings such as this one they were sometimes stiff. By the time she reached the outskirts of the village, however, she felt like she could run a mile.

Pale gray plumes of smoke rose from several of the huts scattered about the village of Crie and even more young Resai elves dashed around, chasing chickens and wayward livestock as their dogs barked merrily behind them. Jahrra couldn’t help but smile. It reminded her very much of home. The adults, looking groggy and a little ruffled, moved about more slowly collecting eggs or milking goats. Some looked to still be in their sleeping clothes as they scurried after the children in order to drag them back to finish their chores.

As Jahrra scanned the scene before her she caught sight of Jaax talking to Aydehn. She took a deep breath and started walking in that direction, half afraid she would get mobbed again. Phrym followed behind her like a loyal dog as she made her way down the center of town.

More than half of the Resai stopped what they were doing to watch her but to her profound relief, no one stood up to follow. She took this chance to study them. They all had hair in one shade of brown or another and the pointed ears she had grown so familiar with back home. The one thing she noticed about these people was their height. On the whole, they were shorter than the Resai elves in the southern part of Oescienne and their features were softer, not as angled. She wondered why but didn’t think too long on it because her very next step brought her before Jaax and Aydehn.

“Well good morning to you, Jahrra!” Aydehn proclaimed. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, I did,” she replied.

“I’m very pleased to hear it. You must be hungry. Would you like to join me and my wife for breakfast?”

Jahrra glanced at Jaax and he nodded. “I won’t need to eat for a few more days and I think it would be a very good idea for Jahrra to get to know you better.”

Gulping down her nerves, Jahrra said, “Alright. But Phrym needs breakfast too.”

“Of course!” Aydehn said. “Emrel! Could you come here for a moment?”

A young Resai man, perhaps ten years older than Jahrra, stepped out of the hut just on the other side of Aydehn’s.

“Yes, Uncle?” he asked.

“Have Thera and Romm take Jahrra’s semequin to the mid-pastures so that he may graze.”

Emrel glanced at Jahrra, then his eyes widened.

“Of course,” he murmured as he ducked back into his home.

“My dear nephew,” Aydehn said with a little sadness. “His wife died almost six years ago while giving birth to their third child. Little Phaea survived but Emrel has never quite got over it.”

Jahrra frowned in sympathy. She knew what it was like to lose a loved one.

The door of Emrel’s hut flew open and two children, Thera and Romm Jahrra presumed, came bustling out, pulling on boots and coats. Thera, who looked to be around the age of twelve, had tied her long brown hair back into two ponytails while Romm, a few years older, was rubbing his hands together to fight the chill. Both of them looked at Aydehn.

“Papa says there’s a semequin out here. Is it true?” Thera’s eyes lit up with delight.

“See for yourself,” Aydehn said with a grin, gesturing towards Jahrra. “You weren’t here yesterday during the grand arrival of Jahrraneh Drisihn.”

That statement seemed to surprise both siblings and they gawked at Jahrra as if she had turned a brilliant shade of magenta.

Romm cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

Thera seemed unable to speak.

“I’m glad to meet you as well. But you don’t have to take Phrym for me, if you just show me where to go.”

“Nonsense!” Aydehn said. “Come now children, don’t be shy!”

Casting a wary glance at Jaax, Thera stepped forward and took Phrym’s lead rope. Jahrra was worried he might not like someone else taking him away but all he did was ruffle Thera’s hair with his nose. The girl laughed and Jahrra smiled.

“We’ll bring him in at the end of the day with the other horses,” Romm said, giving Jahrra one more reverent glance.

She fought the urge to squirm.

Aydehn nodded and turned to Jaax. “We have a nice stable near the river where we keep our horses at night. Several stalls are empty at the moment, for some of our young men have gone on a long hunting venture and probably won’t return until after you’ve left.”

He sighed. “They’ll be well put out when they learn you were here.”

He shrugged and looked at Jahrra. “So, how does scrambled eggs and fresh trout sound, young lady?”

In response, Jahrra’s stomach growled and she felt her cheeks grow pink. Aydehn only laughed and waved her in.

“I think I’ll stretch my wings for a while. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for me to scout the forest,” Jaax said as he turned to leave.

Jahrra felt uncomfortable with the idea of Jaax being out of reach for more than an hour but she fought down her unease and only nodded before disappearing into the hut. The interior was rather spacious compared to the outside and consisted of one great room with bunks built into the wall just below the roof. The floor consisted of flat slate stones pieced together carefully with a stone fireplace resting inside one of the walls. A frying pan sat perched atop a flat rock while several trout hung spitted above the flames. A tea kettle was steaming off to the side and beside the fireplace Jahrra spotted a crevice in the wall that acted as an oven. The smell of dust, roasting fish and leather mingled nicely together and for a while she was reminded of the tiny cottage she lived in when she was a small child back in Oescienne.

“It isn’t much, I know, but we don’t require much so we are content,” Aydehn said, clasping his hands behind his back as he surveyed his home.

Jahrra glanced around once again, noting the plaster walls and the few windows that let in just enough light. She was impressed with the glass panes and wondered if they’d fashioned them themselves.

“It’s wonderful,” she murmured.

“Thenya is just out collecting eggs but the tea should be ready and the fish is nearly done.”

He gestured to a small table with four wooden chairs and Jahrra sat at his invitation. A few moments later Thenya stepped in, her apron turned into a pouch that held several brown eggs. When she spotted Jahrra sitting at the table with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, she nearly dropped her bundle in surprise.

“Oh, Aydehn! Why didn’t you warn me she was here?”

The woman was short, like all the others in Crie, but moved about briskly as if she were constantly on a mission to round up a group of misbehaving toddlers. Her russet hair, streaked with white, was tucked under a scarlet scarf and her hazel eyes sparked with vigor. She cast her husband an exasperated look as she bustled over to a great stone basin acting as a sink.

“She has just awoken my dear and you were out tending the chickens,” Aydehn answered matter-of-factly.

His wife muttered something unintelligible as she unloaded the eggs carefully into the sink. When she finished, she wiped her hands and turned to face Jahrra.

“Oh, I still cannot believe you are here! The way Raejaax carried you off last time I was sure I would never see you again.”

Jahrra thought she saw tears in the woman’s eyes but figured she had too much self control to let them spill free.

“We were very sorry to hear about Hroombramantu,” she murmured as she returned to her eggs, cracking them one at a time in a clay bowl. “He was a good friend to us.”

Jahrra ducked her head in acknowledgment.

“Thank you,” she said, trying to keep the emotion out of her own voice. She felt slightly awkward sitting here among strangers, strangers who had worried after her since birth.

Eventually Aydehn cleared his throat then leaned forward on the table and said, “So, why don’t you tell us about your life? It will help us to get to know the person we let go of so long ago.”

He grinned, a twinkle in his eye. Jaax had explained why he’d taken her to Hroombra but Jahrra was wondering if Aydehn and Thenya knew the reason.

Shrugging slightly and pushing those thoughts from her mind, Jahrra began her tale, doing her best to relay the past seventeen years of her life to her hosts. She didn’t focus on the sad memories but she did mention her parents’ deaths, then gave them a quick summary of her time at school and her summers spent making mischief with her two best friends.

“You must miss them dearly,” Thenya said as she carried the scrambled eggs and trout to the table.

Jahrra was encouraged to help herself and as they began to eat she shrugged, dismissing the bubble of sadness that welled up in her throat.

“I do miss them. But I couldn’t stay, not after what happened, and we couldn’t risk letting them know too much. Still, I wish I could talk to them again, at least once.”

Thenya placed a warm hand on Jahrra’s. “I hope someday you’ll be able to, dear.”

After breakfast Jahrra was given a tour of the town. As soon as they stepped out of Aydehn’s hut a small girl with wild hair ran towards her, her dark brown eyes alit with joy and wonder.

“Pa says you have a semkin,” she squeaked.

Jahrra looked to Aydehn for help. He only smiled, something he did often if she judged by the wrinkles gathered around his mouth and eyes.

“This is Little Phaea,” he said, “and I believe she is inquiring after Phrym.”

The child clung to Jahrra’s leg, waiting for a reply. Jahrra grinned down at her.

“Hello, Little Phaea. I do have a semequin, his name is Phrym.”

Her eyes grew wider. “You’re very tall.”

That wasn’t the response Jahrra had expected but she laughed and patted the girl on the head. “Yes, I believe I am.”

“Can I see Phrym?” she asked.

“When he comes home from the fields with the other horses, I’ll go visit him. And you can come with me.”

The girl’s eyes, if at all possible, grew even wider.

Aydehn was laughing. “You’ve earned yourself a new shadow, Jahrra. I don’t think Phaea is going to let you leave her sight from now on.”

They spent the remainder of the day strolling through the small village, stopping every now and again to talk with those who were taking a break from their chores. Jahrra learned much about the Resai of Crie in those few hours. She discovered that they depended upon the land around them to supply food and shelter and that they were very loyal to Ethoes. Aydehn reminded her they lived a plain but honest life. She couldn’t argue with that.

They ate lunch around noon, sharing the meat of a young deer that had been brought in early that morning. Jahrra was grateful that the elves’ initial curiosity and awe had worn off and she easily became accepted as an honored guest, but not so honored that people were afraid to talk to her.

There were many children in the village, most of them either very young or a few years older than herself. Regardless of this fact, once lunch was finished she was dragged off by a large group of boys and girls to be shown the more exciting sights and wonders of Crie. Aydehn promised they meant no harm so with a shrug of her shoulder and a last glance towards the dome-shaped huts, she allowed the giggling children to lead her away.

The first thing they showed her was the mid-pastures where they took the horses to graze, a vast flat meadow located near the center of the river.

“It is shallow on this side and we walk them across,” a boy of about nine, Nerrid, told her. “That way they stay put and the predators can’t hurt them.”

“What kind of predators?” Jahrra asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

They were all perched upon a low hanging limb of a sycamore tree, watching the horses graze happily as the river flowed gently below them.

“Oh! Lots, Miss!” Kerra cried.

She was the same age as Nerrid, her pale brown hair as curly as the branches of a corkscrew willow and her face dusted with freckles.

“We’ve got boarlaques, though they don’t come down this low that often, and mogrums. Dremmen wolves and igidons sometimes, Saem River water cats,” she prattled off.