The Beginning

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  “Is-is it alright for me to take the fruit?” Jahrra whispered to Cahrume.

  “Only if you are pure of spirit and a true child of Ethoes,” Cahrume answered gently.

  Jahrra approached the tree cautiously. She wasn’t sure if she was truly pure of spirit or a true child of Ethoes, but she figured Cahrume would tell her if she wasn’t. As Jahrra inched closer to the tree, she stretched out her arm and gently put her hand upon a root that was not covered in moss. Instantly, she felt the passage of time, the coolness of rain, the warmth of the sun, and the love of many lives running through her body and coursing through her blood. Her fingers seemed to fuse with the tree’s bark and a flashing heat, severe but not unpleasant, surged from her fingertips to the very marrow of her bones. A roaring, suffocating sound similar to that of the roiling ocean clogged her ears. Jahrra gasped, but her gasp was choked away as her eyes no longer saw the green, filtered light from above, but people, hundreds of people trudging through a snow-laden mountain pass.

  Jahrra fell to her knees, at least it felt that way to her, but her palm remained attached to the tree, the strange burning sensation strongest now on one tiny spot on her wrist. She took a deep breath, but instead of inhaling apple scent she inhaled the lung-freezing bitterness of winter. The people continued on, and the scene shifted. They came through the mountains and found themselves looking down on a beautiful land, a land full of rolling hills and green meadows, forests and rivers. They found a small canyon, heavy with the waters of snow melt and vibrant with life. She could see an apple tree, full of fruit, and a celebration that felt more triumphant and joyful than anything she had ever felt in her life.

  A shiver ran through Jahrra and the scene changed again. This time she was standing at the base of Ehnnit Canyon, looking up, looking at the entry way, but something was different, something felt out of place. She could see figures working at something in the archway, and a dragon, no, the shadow of a dragon, a shadow that looked like a dragon? It was so hard to tell, the scene was fading, like a reflection in a pool erased by a single pebble, the ripples washing everything away.

  The light was returning to normal, the rushing in her ears fading away. A wash of happiness flashed through her senses and her palm came loose from the tree, tingling and feeling icy and hot at the same time. Jahrra took a breath, inhaling the clean air as if she’d been underwater for the past several minutes. She crumpled to the ground and felt the cool, damp moss press against her flushed face.

  “Jahrra!” called a familiar voice.

  “Jahrra?!” that one was Scede.

  Jahrra blinked away the strange residue of the visions she’d seen and lifted her head carefully. Funny, she was sure she’d have a headache after all that. She pushed up her weight with one arm and leaned woozily against a thick tree root. Although she seemed to have returned to her senses, some of the strange sensation lingered up her left arm. Jahrra reluctantly lifted her hand, only guessing at what she might find there. One bead in her tree charm bracelet felt warm, its odd rune glowing red, as if there were a tiny light shining through the marks from the heart of the wood. So you must be the wood taken from the Sacred Apple, she decided with wonder. The glow faded and then disappeared, but Jahrra could still feel a small trace of something, magic most likely, lingering in the tiny piece of wood.

  She turned and looked at Cahrume, confusion and fear surfacing on her face. What was that? But what she saw in the draffyd’s eyes didn’t comfort her; it frightened her even more. There was a revelation there, but it was so clouded with emotion that there was no way for her to interpret it.

  “You can speak with the Trees,” the draffyd hissed harshly, almost fearfully.

  Jahrra sat stark still, not knowing what to do or say. She looked past Cahrume, hoping to get some reassurance from Gieaun and Scede, but they had the same look of bewilderment written across their own faces.

  “What do you mean?” Jahrra asked anxiously. “How do you know I can speak with trees?”

  “It means,” Cahrume began, “that you have a gift that is granted to only a very few. It is a true sign of one loyal to Ethoes who can speak with the Trees. Many have claimed they can, few have proven so. You see, the Sacred Trees of Ethoes hold deep, ancient secrets, secrets that contain power that could change the world.” he paused dramatically, took a settling breath and then said, “The Goddess has blessed you. How long have you had this gift?”

  Jahrra didn’t know what to say. She had always known she had a way with plants, and even Yaraa and Viornen had told her she was a child of nature, but she had no idea that she could actually communicate with them. Maybe they knew all along; maybe that is why they decided to give her the armlet.

  “I have a garden at home, and it always seems to do well,” she offered weakly after the momentary quiet. “And when I’m among the trees, I often feel different, at ease and at peace.”

  Jahrra dropped her eyes to the ground, the same way she had done when she’d first met Yaraa and Viornen. Her elvin trainers were magical, and she knew that some way, somehow, Cahrume was magical too.

  “I should think, then,” Cahrume spoke softly, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “that you should have no problem taking fruit from these branches. This hallowed Tree is gladdened by your presence.”

  He smiled and Jahrra looked back at the Apple Tree. It truly was a majestic being. A being? The sudden thought and realization caught her off guard. Jahrra suddenly felt like the trees were no longer just giant plants, but individuals with an essence equal to her own. She felt that this tree had a coursing soul and spirit and a life force just as significant as any other creature’s.

  It now made sense to her, the sacredness of trees. This is why Hroombra and her father had insisted she treat them with respect. Their lives spanned centuries, experiencing the changing of seasons and the erosion of time. They gave so much to the world around them and they asked for nothing in return. Jahrra smiled softly and sighed, wondering why she hadn’t realized all of this before.

  For the next hour or so, Gieaun, Scede and Jahrra climbed into the heavy arms of the great Apple Tree and collected as many apples as they could fit into their saddlebags. They even paused for an hour to enjoy some of the fruit high atop the interlacing boughs that seemed to stretch on forever. They sprawled themselves out on thick limbs, as big around as a sea serpent and covered in the same soft, thick moss that covered the roots below. While Jahrra munched on the sweet, tangy apples, she couldn’t help but sense the tree’s contentment tingling over her skin, especially her hand. It warmed her heart thinking that this ancient being of the earth was happy to receive her company, even if all this talk about speaking with trees turned out to be a sham in the end.

  Jahrra took another crisp bite of the apple she was eating. She was surprised at their flavor; they were unlike any fruit she had ever tasted, even the rare apples her parents once grew. From the first bite to the last, Jahrra could have sworn her mind felt sharper, clearer; that all of her life’s questions and uncertainties were finally making sense. I can do anything, understand anything! she thought with delight. She wondered if Gieaun and Scede felt the same way, but didn’t bother to ask. She had too many important things to think about. After some time, the fruits’ affects wore off and the three friends climbed back down from the tree, their arms laden with apples for Denaeh.

  While they got ready to leave for home, Jahrra found that she was reluctant to part with the great tree. It felt like she was about to say goodbye to a dear friend she wouldn’t be seeing again for a very long time. Cahrume reassured Jahrra that she needn’t worry.

  “Nothing shall harm this sacred one, I promise you that,” the draffyd avowed with a wry grin.

  Jahrra walked away halfheartedly, the colors of her surroundings once again fading away as she pulled her fingers from the smooth, cool bark. The Apple Tree’s sadness stung like an insect bite the moment Jahrra parted with it. She stood in the shade of the great canopy for a few moments longer,
soaking in the Tree’s unique magic before collecting Phrym and joining her friends who were already mounted. She fed him one of the apples before climbing into the saddle and then turned him toward the game trail that headed northeast just behind Bhun and Aimhe.

  “This trail continues north until it cuts through those two hills,” Cahrume instructed, jerking his head towards the two small peaks in the distance. “Travel for about one mile down the narrow gulch ahead until the trail meets up with an old road known only to the folk and beasts of the wilds. Take that road for about three or four miles, always heading west and always staying between the Cohn Forest and the hills. You will then come to a crossroads that lies just to the east of a small lake. Follow the eastern edge of the lake, and continue to stay on the edge of the forest, always stay on the edge of the forest.” Cahrume stressed this last statement and the three children nodded somberly.

  Once he saw that they understood, he continued, “Another four miles north will bring you to a sign that reads Longuinn Valley. Follow the road west and it will take you through the hills. You will have to stop in the hills the first night, but be sure you are far from the Cohn Forest before you make camp.”

  Cahrume looked the children sternly in the eye, and then added in a more serious tone, “The Cohn Forest is a formidable place, even more so than the Wreing Florenn. If you keep heading west on that road, you will eventually end up in the southern part of the Longuinn Valley. You should be able to find your way from there. I would go with you, but I cannot leave this canyon.”

  He finished in a regretful tone, but shook his great feathery head and bid them farewell.

  “Travel quickly. It looks like we may be getting an early rain storm in a few days’ time.”

  Jahrra looked up at the clear, cloudless sky and shook her head. It didn’t look like a storm was coming, but she thought it best not to say anything. The three children waved once more and set off on their horses, heading north along the trail the draffyd had instructed them to follow.

  Cahrume shouted out after them, reminding them to stay beyond the perimeter of the woods and not to camp until they were far from its edge.

  “The wild creatures know that you are here now. I cannot stop all of them from taking advantage of easy prey,” the draffyd warned, “but if you keep to the trail and keep a steady pace, they should not harm you.”

  “Thank you for everything Cahrume!” Jahrra called from Phrym’s back as she and her friends disappeared up the trail. “I do hope we meet you again! I’ll give my regards to Denaeh.”

  Cahrume nodded nobly, willing with all of his might that these three children might make it through the wilderness safely. Very interesting, he thought as he watched them go, a bit of humor and admiration dancing in his eyes, very interesting indeed.

  The draffyd thought about his unlikely meeting with the Nesnan girl and her two Resai companions. In all his years guarding this canyon, he had spoken to no one, except for the Tanaan humans so very long ago. Cahrume released a deep and long sigh, regretting their demise. They had understood the honor and respect that Ethoes and all her creation deserved.

  He shook his head and focused his thoughts on the three young visitors now disappearing between the hills. The two Resai children were what they claimed to be, there was no doubt about that. But the girl, could she really be a Nesnan? The draffyd wasn’t entirely sure. There was something different, something unusual, and something not quite complete about that one. She was familiar, yet so strange and extraordinary, like the fading memory of a dream upon waking. Archedenaeh knows something that I do not, he thought. I will just have to bide my time and wait. All will reveal itself in the end.

  Cahrume turned and walked over to the edge of the cliff where Ethoes’ Apple Tree stood, still glowing with the joy of receiving visitors, especially one visitor in particular. The draffyd stretched out across its mossy feet like an attentive watchdog, his mind aflame with a thousand different thoughts and just as many worries.

  ***

  The first leg of the children’s journey through the wilderness was slow going, but they remembered Cahrume’s advice and made sure not to stop, even when the thick brush tore Scede’s shirt. “It’s alright,” he said, looking down at the rip in his sleeve, “it’s better than being torn to shreds by a sehnna’s claws.”

  As they pushed their way through the layers of thick scrub in the hot sun, Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede passed the time by discussing the story Cahrume had told them.

  “I wonder if the Tanaan prince is still out there somewhere,” Gieaun said aloud as soon as they reached the canyon between the hills.

  “If he is, he’s sure to be far away from the mainland,” Jahrra postulated. “He’s probably living on an island far in the western ocean where the Crimson King can’t find him.”

  “I bet Master Hroombra knows where he is. He knows everything,” Scede put in.

  “Yeah, but he would never tell us,” Gieaun insisted. “I wonder if Denaeh knows anything . . .”

  Gieaun would have said more, but she happened to catch a glimpse at her brother’s face and quickly clammed up. She didn’t want to put him back in a foul mood.

  After awhile, the three riders dissolved back into silence and let their surroundings entertain them. Luckily, the small canyon Cahrume had told them about wasn’t very narrow, and they could easily lead their horses in a single file line with plenty of room on either side of them. It was a cool and rocky gulch, but it wasn’t as beautiful as the aqua and apricot Ehnnit Canyon, and there wasn’t a trace of water. Jahrra reached into her pocket and clutched the chunk of stone she had collected that morning. She thought to herself that one day, when she had saved some money, she would have it set into a pendant or carved into a ring.

  Scede and Gieaun reached the northern end of the ravine first, with Jahrra and Phrym trailing behind. Jahrra had been distracted by the bead on her bracelet, for she was trying to decide if she could still feel the twinge of magic or if it was just her imagination. She finally gave up, assuming it was her imagination after all. When she finally caught up to her friends and realized that they had stopped, she couldn’t help but wonder why they were so very quiet.

  “What is it?” she asked fearfully. She glanced past them and caught a peek of what they had been looking at. The trail ended where it met up with an old road, just as Cahrume had said. What the draffyd hadn’t mentioned, however, was what they would find along the edge of the Cohn Forest.

  Jahrra pulled Phrym up next to Bhun and then gasped once she finally spotted what had kept her friends so silent. There, hanging on a tall wooden pole, was a decomposed carcass of some wild animal. Jahrra had seen many dead animals before; it was nothing new to her eyes, but there was something about the way this animal hung, as if it had been tortured and left to die. Jahrra peered down the road, first to the east and then to the west, and noted that every hundred feet or so there hung another carcass or skeleton on a pole similar to the one in front of them.

  “What lives in this place?” Scede queried in a chilling tone.

  “Maybe Cahrume forgot to tell us about something,” Jahrra murmured quietly.

  All three of them shivered at the thought of some strange creature capturing them and eating them alive, leaving their remains on a pole just like these poor animals.

  “Perhaps it-it’s just a war-warning, to stay out of the woods?” stammered Gieaun, gripping Aimhe’s reins tightly.

  “Cahrume wouldn’t send us this way if it were dangerous,” Jahrra insisted. “He said it was safe himself.”

  “No,” corrected Scede in a morose tone, “he said it was safer than going down Ehnnit Canyon, not safe.”

  Jahrra frowned. She didn’t like the look of the path ahead of them. The forest backed right up against the steep hills with only the old road between them.

  “I think the best way to go about this situation is to get past these woods as fast as we can. Even the trees look unpleasant,” she finally said, eyeing the fores
t with suspicion.

  So Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede turned their hesitant horses to the left and began traveling along the dusty road as quickly as they dared. The time ticked by slowly, and every now and then a frightened bird or a creaking branch spooked Phrym, Aimhe and Bhun. The horses felt a tense sensation of fear surrounding this place, just as their riders did. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the three friends spotted the lake in the distance, glittering like a welcoming beacon.

  “We need to get away from this forest!” Gieaun pleaded, and they continued on without resting or even looking out across the placid lake.

  Jahrra had never felt so uneasy before, not even when she entered the Black Swamp for the first time. She had always felt calm around trees, and just a few hours ago she’d learned that she was more connected to them then she had thought. Something about these trees, however, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She felt as if they were watching her, as if they had invisible eyes that bore into her soul. Phrym shivered, reflecting his master’s mood, and Jahrra clicked him on nervously.

  The children trudged on and the forest continued to watch, but it wasn’t the trees that held the three riders in their sight, it was something else. Some wild thing eyed the trio closely, scarcely breathing in case the young ones noticed they were being followed.

  The spy had been sent here from far away, sent by another, one capable of great evil. A rumor had been brewing all over the land, a rumor about a prophecy from long ago. The report traveled quietly and slowly, spreading like a sluggish disease, but it had reached the far corners of Ethoes, even into the far northeast where an immeasurable danger lay sleeping. This was why the foreigner was here; to see if there was truth behind this ancient prophecy and all of the rumors surrounding it.

  The creature blinked and refocused its attention on the three children it had been following for over an hour. The dark onlooker grinned maliciously as it recognized one child in particular. Not the two Resai, obviously siblings and no doubt of Elvish blood, but the other girl had very few elfin traits, if she had any at all. She was the tallest of the three, with golden hair and grey-blue eyes, yet this wasn’t the first time the creature had gazed upon this particular child. For quite some time now it had stalked her, listening for any clues that might give her away as the chosen one. Yes, the promised one, the creature thought to itself bitterly. That is why I’m here, to find the promised one that so many have begun talking about once again. But could she really be human, the stranger mused, and not Nesnan as that old dragon claims?