The Ascending

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  When Jahrra woke up the next morning, it was to a pair of huge brown eyes staring at her from a distance of mere inches. Yelping in surprise, she shot up out of her pile of blankets and, forgetting where she was, promptly fell onto the floor as gracelessly as a newborn fawn treading over a frozen pond.

  “Jahrra! Are you alright?”

  Groaning, Jahrra rolled over so that she was at least sitting somewhat upright. She turned her head to the side, grimacing at the twinge in her neck and the throb in her knee. Through sleep-bleary eyes she made out Dervit’s general shape, a blurred patch of fox red and forest green perched on the back of her couch.

  “Dervit, what were you doing watching me sleep?” she rasped, trying to clear grit out of her eyes.

  The limbit’s cheeks reddened, and he pulled his wool cap from his head and clutched it in his hands. A sure sign he was nervous about something.

  “I wasn’t watching you sleep,” he managed in a small voice. “Just waiting for you to wake up.”

  Jahrra yawned, her jaw cracking in the process, and climbed back up onto the couch, using her good leg as a lever of sorts. For a few moments, her mind swirled with the confusion of the activities from the day before. She glanced around the room in order to give herself time to remember everything. The cavernous space looked much the same as it had the night before, only the light pouring in through the wide open hole in the wall came in at a different angle, and the sky was a paler blue. The gossamer drapes swayed slightly, suggesting a gentle breeze traveled past the city heights, its edge lined with icy teeth that bit at her exposed skin and conjured up goose pimples. Nimbronia, Jahrra reminded herself. You are in Nimbronia now. The City in the Clouds; the city made of ice and magic.

  A glance back at Dervit gave Jahrra pause. He was wearing his usual vest, but a white bandage encircled his torso. She drew in a hiss of concern. Scenes from the battle on the bridge came to shocking life in her mind: the Red Flange and its leader, Keiron’s painful betrayal, her leap from the bridge in order to cause a distraction ... She had been worried sick about her friends, wondering, after Jaax caught her and took her away from the fight, if any of them had been hurt, or worse, killed.

  “What happened to you?!” Jahrra demanded, angling herself so she could get a closer look at the dressing around his stomach.

  “Nothing severe,” Dervit replied, inching his way out of her reach. “My side got grazed by an arrow during the fight yesterday.”

  “Dervit,” Jahrra pressed, licking her lips and clearing her throat, “what happened yesterday? After Jaax brought me here?”

  The limbit stopped worrying at his hat and looked up at her. He took a deep breath, then let it out quickly before closing his eyes and saying, “After you jumped over the bridge, Jaax tore free from those trying to hold him down and went after you. After that, everyone started fighting. Ellyesce shoved me, Whinsey, Erron and the horses toward the other side of the bridge, the side closest to the wall, then turned back to fight the Crimson King’s soldiers. Pendric was there with the soldiers from Nimbronia, and he pointed us toward the road leading up to the city. Whinsey led her horse and Rumble up the trail, but I hesitated. That’s how I got injured.”

  Dervit stopped speaking and eyed Jahrra to make sure she was following. When she gave him an encouraging wave, he soldiered on. “Anyway, I quickly joined Whinsey and Erron after that. About halfway up the road, I turned to watch the battle. Jaax had returned by then, diving at the bridge and breathing fire over the Tyrant’s soldiers before disappearing once again up the mountain. Those other two dragons joined the fray, but some of the Red Flange had spears, and there was at least one sorcerer with them. He kept the dragons back, but the men and women in Nimbronia’s guard, with Ellyesce’s help, were able to fight them off. Some of the soldiers from the city had come down to meet us and insisted on escorting us up to the city. I protested, but they told me someone should look at my injury, and it wasn’t safe for Whinsey and Erron, so I didn’t argue. We were taken into the castle, and a physician cleaned me up and put this bandage on me.”

  The limbit paused to take a breath and indicate the wrapping. Jahrra nodded encouragement once more.

  “Once I was patched up and the horses put in one of the stables, they told me there was room on this floor for all of us to stay. You were already asleep when I finally made it up here, and I didn’t want to wake you, so I chose the room next door and decided to get some rest as well. I woke up about an hour ago and decided to check on you.”

  He let out a great breath and then smiled at her.

  “Phrym?” Jahrra asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  Dervit beamed. “He’s with the other horses. Didn’t want to leave the bridge. I think he saw you jump over the side, and it upset him.”

  The limbit furrowed his brow and frowned. Jahrra put her hands over her face and groaned. Of course Phrym would be upset. He probably thought she was dead.

  “He’s okay,” Dervit said after a while. “I told him on the way up that Jaax had caught you and brought you someplace safe. He seemed to understand me, too. He settled down after that.”

  Jahrra smiled and fell back into the pillows piled against one arm of the couch. “I’m sure he did understand you. He’s a very smart semequin.”

  A slight knock on the door caused both Jahrra and Dervit to jump.

  “Hello, Miss Jahrra? It’s Saria. I have some breakfast for you, may I come in?”

  “Um,” Jahrra said before clearing her throat. “Yes, come in!”

  The young maid from the night before promptly pushed open the door, pulling a cart full of dishes behind her. She came to a stop in front of the fire place, then turned and regarded Jahrra, then Dervit. And then the pile of quilts on the floor. She lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, and Jahrra smiled sheepishly.

  “Dervit startled me when I woke up. I kind of fell off the couch.”

  The maid laughed and began removing the lids from the different trays. “I guess that would be an easy thing to do, especially after such an ordeal and waking up in an unfamiliar place.”

  Jahrra forgot her embarrassment as soon as the aroma of hot food reached her nose. She turned her attention to the different dishes, wondering what each one was. Some appeared familiar, but others looked entirely foreign to her.

  “I brought extra, since Mr. Dervit wasn’t in his room when I checked. I figured he’d be in here looking in on you.”

  She gave the limbit a radiant smile, and he blushed the same color as his hair. Jahrra fought against a bubble of laughter.

  “There is hot tea and toast and some of the more unique dishes served in Nimbronia. We have a very diverse population, and as our citizens migrated here from other realms, they brought their cuisine with them. Something I am very much grateful for, mind you. I had the chef make you a little of each of my favorite breakfasts. I hope you both enjoy them.”

  She started to move toward the door, then stopped herself. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

  She rifled in the large pouch on the front of her apron and pulled out a bundle of letters tied together with a string.

  “These are for you, Miss Jahrra. The Korli dragon Sapheramin asked that they be delivered to you.”

  Puzzled but curious, Jahrra set down the cup of tea she had just poured for herself and took the letters from the maid. Who had written to her? And who was Sapheramin? Was she one of the dragons Jaax had brought with him to the bridge?

  As the maid exited the room, Jahrra glanced down at the four letters in her hand. Dervit, who seemed oblivious to her sudden, cautious mood, was far too preoccupied with fixing himself a plate of the exotic food to be concerned about the mysterious letters.

  The backs of the envelopes were sealed with wax, the indention of the seal a very common one. Only when she turned the bundle over and glanced at the hand writing on the front of the first envelope did Jahrra finally realize who these missives were from. Her brow smoothed, and her frown curved up into a radiant smile as her f
ingers traced over her own name penned in a familiar hand.

  “This one’s from Torrell!” she cried, now frantically trying to untie the string binding them together.

  The other three letters also had her name printed on the front, each in a different but easily recognizable handwriting.

  “Oh! And this looks like Dathian’s handwriting, and Senton’s and Neira’s! Dervit,” she exclaimed, pressing the letters to her heart and glancing at the limbit with shining eyes. “These are from my best friends back in Lidien!”

  Dervit, who currently had his mouth stuffed full of a scrambled egg and vegetable concoction, only widened his eyes and nodded.

  Although the spicy scent of the food was making Jahrra’s stomach growl and her mouth water, she couldn’t possibly eat until she had read the letters. The knot in the string securing the envelopes together was stubborn, but Jahrra managed to finally get it free. She tore open the first note, the one from Torrell, and began to read furiously. The message started out with an exuberant greeting, sending Jahrra and Jaax blessings from Torrell and her family and a hope that they were making an easy journey. The letter then went on to describe all that had been going on in Lidien since Jahrra had left, including the new classes Torrell had signed up for, the practices she, Senton and, when he wasn’t too busy with Coalition business, Dathian continued to hold on the University campus, and finally, all the latest gossip. Jahrra laughed, both thrilled at this light-hearted and cheerful letter and aching to be amongst her friends again. Torrell ended the letter with a fervent expression of missing her friend, and Jahrra had to sniff back tears.

  Neira’s letter was next. The Nesnan woman greeted Jahrra in the same way Torrell had and reassured her that she was taking good care of the apple trees growing on the patio above the kitchen. The maid further informed Jahrra that she and Kehllor were getting along just fine and that they couldn’t wait to see her again.

  Once done with Neira’s short letter, Jahrra picked up Senton’s. Like Torrell, he told her of the new and exciting classes being offered at the University, including one on the history of the legends and myths of Ethoes taught by their favorite professor, Anthar the centaur. Jahrra felt a pang of jealousy at this. She would have simply adored such a class. Senton finished his letter off by telling her he was getting much better at sword fighting, and he expected to best Torrell any day now.

  Jahrra snorted as she added Senton’s letter to the pile she’d already read. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she could have sworn she detected a hint of sarcasm in those final lines.

  Lastly, she cracked open the seal on Dathian’s letter. This one was much more serious in tone, although the young elf did try to open up with some good news. The side of him that was her classmate and friend described the new places he and the others had discovered whilst on outings assigned by their various teachers. But it was Dathian, the prince of Dhonoara and dedicated Coalition member, who spoke more at length in this letter.

  Clutching the paper so tightly her knuckles turned white, Jahrra read all about Shiroxx’s continued actions to undermine Kehllor’s authority and to turn the Coalition against them. He also informed her that Kehllor would soon leave his position to journey to the far south in order to seek assistance from those living in Terre Moeserre.

  “Terre Moeserre,” Jahrra murmured to herself in disbelief.

  Dervit, who had managed to keep himself busy all this time tasting the different dishes spread before them, glanced up and said, “What?”

  Jahrra shook her head. “Nothing, sorry.”

  Dervit shrugged, then turned his attention to a basket full of pastries while Jahrra continued to read the letter.

  Kehllor informed us he spent time in the deserts of the east, long ago, and that he might have a chance at securing the aid of the Nephaari. They are a warrior tribe and have the numbers and the means to take on Ghorium’s might. No one believes he will succeed in convincing the Nephaari that to ignore Ciarrohn’s tyranny is to doom all of Ethoes, but he was adamant. He could not sit and listen to the members of the Coalition bicker and waste time. I must say, I have to agree with him. It may be false optimism, but at least he is doing something.

  The letter ended with an old elvin blessing and Dathian’s hope that she and Jaax and Ellyesce remained safe and that they would win over the king of the Creecemind.

  After finishing the letter, Jahrra took in a deep, weary breath and released it slowly. She clutched the parchment close and thought furiously, Oh, Kehllor, for all our sakes, I hope you are successful in your quest. Just as I hope Jaax and I are successful in ours.

  She wanted desperately to find a quill and some paper so she could write a response to each of these letters, but she had no idea if this Sapheramin would be returning to Lidien any time soon, and she didn’t dare send them with a regular courier.

  “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

  Jahrra looked up to find Dervit studying her. She grinned when she noted the powdered sugar on his face and nodded. “Yes, I think I will.”

  Jahrra was just about finished with her first plate of food when she and Dervit heard someone knocking at the door once again.

  “Yes?” Jahrra called out, as she scooped honey into her third cup of tea.

  “It’s Ellyesce. May I come in?”

  “Of course!” she called out, settling back into her blankets and pillows.

  The tall elf entered the vast chamber in near silence, and when Jahrra caught sight of him she had to fight back a gasp of surprise. No longer did he bear the characteristics of a traveler too long on the road. His beard had been trimmed close to his face, and he donned a fine set of clothes that complimented his coloring perfectly. His dark hair was drawn back, and all the dirt from the road had been washed clean. Even the weariness that often tightened his features had lifted.

  “You look as if you’ve been luxuriating in a hot spring for a week!” Jahrra proclaimed, setting down her tea.

  Ellyesce laughed, and Jahrra felt her heart lighten because of it.

  “No, I’m afraid not. Although Nimbronia does boast a collection of those particular geological features, I hadn’t the time to make use of them.”

  Jahrra snickered, and Ellyesce joined her and Dervit by taking a seat on a stuffed chair. He gestured to the food on the rolling cart. “May I?”

  “Please,” Jahrra replied, handing him a plate.

  “You look well yourself, Jahrra. Feeling more rested?”

  Jahrra nodded, unable to speak because she was too busy enjoying a delicious meat and rice concoction.

  Ellyesce nodded as he spooned an egg casserole onto his plate. “I tried to visit you last night, but by the time I made it up to this part of the castle, you were already fast asleep and I didn’t wish to disturb you.”

  Jahrra placed a piece of toast on her plate, then set it aside. “Dervit told me what happened after I jumped from the bridge.”

  Ellyesce winced slightly, then let out a small breath from his nose. “Yes, that was a very brave thing you did. And, it gave us a slight advantage over the enemy. I think they were still rubbing their eyes when we made our first strike.”

  He grinned and took a sip of tea.

  “Jaax wasn’t too pleased,” Jahrra managed under her breath.

  “Of course he wasn’t,” Ellyesce said smoothly. “But, that is to be understood.”

  Deciding a change of subject would be best, Jahrra cleared her throat and said, “I received some letters from Lidien this morning. One of the maids brought them to me.”

  Ellyesce lifted an eyebrow at that. “Who were they from?”

  “Torrell, Senton, Neira and Dathian. Neira is the housekeeper at Jaax’s mansion, and Torrell, Senton and Dathian are friends from the University, although Dathian is also a member of the Coalition.”

  As well as a member of the royal family in Dhonoara, Jahrra didn’t say out loud. But that wasn’t information her friend readily spread around, so she wasn’t about to tell El
lyesce.

  The elf furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. “I know of Dathian,” he said. “What news did he share with you?”

  “He said Shiroxx hasn’t given up on her determination to corrupt the Coalition and that Kehllor, the Tanaan dragon Jaax left in charge, is going on a quest to the southern desert region of Terre Moeserre to recruit the Nephaari.”

  Ellyesce’s pale green eyes went wide. “That is news indeed. I wonder if Jaax knows any of this.”

  Jahrra shrugged and reached for her tea.

  Before either of them could make any more guesses on the matter, another knock sounded at the door.

  “Now who is it?” Jahrra wondered aloud.

  “I’ll go see,” Dervit offered.

  Jahrra arched a brow in his direction and had to stifle a grin. An impressive stack of empty plates surrounded the place on the couch where he had been sitting. For such a small creature, he had a rather large appetite.

  Using a series of wooden shelves, her friend was able to climb up to the larger door latch and pull it open. The door swung open as if on oiled hinges, and Jaax stuck his head through. Jahrra’s relative mirth fizzled away, and she stiffened, the handle of her teacup clenched tightly between her fingers. They had parted the day before on ill terms, and seeing him again reminded her of his angry dismissal and her stubborn outrage. Her ire had since fled, as it often did, but there was still that cold distance between them, an aloofness which reminded her of her earlier years when she and Jaax didn’t get along at all.

  Jaax’s eyes scanned the space before falling upon Jahrra. He lowered his brow and then said, “I didn’t think you’d have company. I was hoping to speak with you alone.”

  Jahrra tried not to grimace. She needed to talk with her guardian about their recent argument, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that conversation.

  “Of course,” Ellyesce stated, standing up from his chair. “I have yet to unpack for our stay here in Nimbronia. Dervit, how about you?”

  The limbit gave a silent nod, pretending he had enough belongings to warrant the desire to scatter them about his temporary room.