The Finding

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The Finding Page 5

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson


  Dharedth rested his arm on his knee, one hand loosely holding the reins and smiled down at Jahrra.

  “What’s the problem Little Jahrra? Don’ you feel well today?”

  His brow furrowed with concern and his smile began to fade.

  “Um . . .” was all Jahrra could muster as she started to turn pink.

  “Well, cheer up! You have some classmates here who’re headed to school just like you. Why don’ you introduce yourselves?”

  The mailman turned to the two children sitting behind him. They looked as timid as mice but luckily Dharedth was patient and knew how children could be shy when meeting others for the first time. Jahrra braved a glance up at them: a boy and a girl about her age sitting in the back of the cart. They both had very dark hair and green, slightly slanted eyes. Their uniforms were the same as Jahrra’s but instead of looking hand-sewn like her own the girl’s jumper and the boy’s vest and pants had most likely come from a tailor. Jahrra quickly returned her gaze to the ground and continued to stand in silence, pushing the loose soil around with her toe.

  “Oh, for goodness sake!” Dharedth exclaimed, chuckling in amusement, “How’ll you three last in a classroom full of children if you can’ even introduce yourselves here?”

  Finally, the girl in the cart spoke.

  “Hello,” she said in a quiet yet friendly voice, “my name is Gieaun and this is my brother Scede.”

  Jahrra could now see that the girl named Gieaun had cool green eyes and her brother Scede had a little bit of brown mixed in his own. They both, however, had black hair that reminded Jahrra of the shining, silky feathers of a rooster’s tail. Jahrra gave them a genial grin back.

  The girl was all smiles now that the ice was broken but the boy seemed much more bashful than even Jahrra. Jahrra took a deep breath and introduced herself to the siblings and then, after a questioning glance to Dharedth, jumped up into the wagon.

  On the ride to the Castle Guard Ruin Jahrra learned that Gieaun and Scede lived about three miles down the road from her on a ranch.

  “Wood’s End Ranch,” Gieaun piped more confidently now that the cart had started moving once again.

  Their parents raised sheep and horses and even traded with merchants outside of Oescienne. Scede, it turned out, was seven months older than her and Gieaun was four months younger.

  Jahrra began asking the two siblings questions of her own, such as: “What’s it like where you live?” and “What type of tree do you like to climb the most?”

  Gieaun was happy to answer these questions having many for Jahrra herself. Scede nodded every now and again, still reluctant to speak.

  “He’s really shy,” Gieaun whispered knowingly. “We’ll be lucky if he talks at all today!”

  The ride to Hroombra’s went by much quicker with two other children to talk to along the way, even if one of them only listened. Before they knew it the group reached the remains of an old stone building perched near the edge of the bluff. A narrow but long dirt path ran from the road to the crumbling stone structure.

  Once Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede were out of the cart and the mailman was well on his way, the three children walked slowly up the small path gazing around in wary interest as they did. Jahrra naturally led the way, having been to this place many times before. It didn’t take them long to traverse the trail and at its end they found themselves standing on a wide patch of earth free of the tangled field grass but littered with weathered stones.

  “What is this place?” asked Gieaun in a small voice as they stood in the ancient courtyard.

  “This is the Castle Guard Ruin. It’s where Master Hroombra lives,” Jahrra said knowingly.

  “Oh,” Gieaun answered simply, a little too frightened to question any further.

  “I wonder where all the other students are?” Jahrra inquired aloud as she crossed over a circular area that was about ten feet in diameter. She had always imagined a great tree might have once grown here, guarding the building that used to be.

  The three children gazed up at the stone wall looming before them. It was quite large and continued around to the other side of the building. The roof, one built of poles and large wooden slats, looked much newer than the ancient stone. In one corner there stood a large circular tower, easily twenty feet tall, with a conical roof of wood. A few windows, looking like empty rectangular eyes, stared at them from just below the tower’s peak. The entire building backed up into a tiny hillock that dropped off at the edge of the bluff on the opposite end.

  Jahrra, having seen the Ruin a hundred odd times, shuffled over to sit down on the stone steps in front of the doorway.

  “I guess we should wait here until everyone else arrives. I wonder where Master Hroombra is.”

  “Who’s Master Hroombra?” Gieaun asked, dusting off a place to sit next to her.

  “Oh just wait, you’ll love him!” the other girl replied.

  She neglected to tell her friend that Hroombra was a dragon, but Jahrra had grown so used to him that she hadn’t even thought that perhaps Gieaun and Scede had never seen one before.

  The two girls continued to chat while Scede walked around the old courtyard, kicking stones and drawing in the sand. After several minutes of loitering around the edge of the Ruin, Scede gave up and sat down next to the girls.

  Gieaun and Jahrra were so busy talking about their summer adventures that they hardly noticed Scede stiffening next to them. Something was moving from behind where they sat and he was the first one to notice. It sounded like something rather large, something much larger than an animal or an adult shifting around inside the old building.

  Scede elbowed his sister and the two girls stopped talking immediately, looking in the direction where the disturbance was coming from. The children glanced at each other and quickly scuttled behind the massive boulders bordering the steps.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a great beast stuck its head out from around the far corner of the Ruin. Jahrra had to resist the urge to burst out laughing. She’d been so caught up in her conversation with Gieaun that she’d allowed herself to think that anything dangerous could be lurking around the Castle Guard Ruin.

  The terrifying monster was none other than the dragon Hroombra, easily the size of her little cottage if not bigger, and he was peering between the edge of the wall and the curve of the tower on the northern end of the building. Gieaun and Scede looked terrified but Jahrra broke into a bright smile, her blue eyes shining with mirth.

  Hroombramantu inhaled deeply, looking very old as the morning light cut deep shadows into his wrinkled hide. Jahrra wondered if he knew that the children were there because she was getting the impression he was trying to sniff them out. She was almost tempted to sneak up on him and surprise him but another glance at her new friends told her that maybe she should introduce them to her mentor a little more gently. It was obvious from their terrified expressions that they’d never seen a dragon before. Well, at least a friendly one.

  Hroombra stopped sniffing abruptly and turned to look directly at Jahrra. Her grin widened and she skipped towards the looming reptile not at all fearful or cautious of him. Gieaun and Scede simply looked on in horror.

  “Young Jahrra?” Hroombra sounded quite confused indeed. “What are you doing skulking around in the shadows?”

  “I was going to sneak up on you but I thought that if I actually frightened you and caused you to shout my new friends might faint!”

  Jahrra giggled cheerfully, hoping that Gieaun and Scede would see now that Hroombra was harmless. When she looked in their direction, however, she noticed that they still crouched behind the stone rubble.

  Hroombra smiled and spoke, “It seems you’ve been distracted with the task of making friends. It’s alright children, you can come out. I won’t eat you.” The voice was deep, soft, kind and definitely not hostile. “Come on. I assure you no harm will befall you.”

  Hroombra’s speech wasn’t coaxing but patient, proving that he’d dealt with many
terrified children before. Jahrra immediately stood up taller and told her friends that she’d known Hroombra her whole life and that he was a wonderful storyteller.

  “Come now, everyone out in the open!” the great dragon said once more, “My name is Hroombramantu for those of you who don’t already know, and you can call me Master Hroombra. Now what should I call you?”

  By this time Gieaun and Scede had mustered enough courage to crawl out reluctantly from their rock barriers. “I-I’m Gieaun,” answered the girl in a voice that could have belonged to a mouse.

  “And you?” Hroombra nodded towards her brother.

  “Scede,” Gieaun put in, her voice still small but audible. “He’s, my, my brother. He doesn’t say much. He’s shy.”

  Now that Gieaun had spoken and realized she wouldn’t be swallowed after all, she became a little more confident.

  “Well, Gieaun and Scede, it’s nice to meet you two. But we must get moving. The day won’t wait,” Hroombra said.

  “We’re not staying here?” Jahrra asked in surprise.

  “No.”

  “What about the others?”

  “They’ll meet us in town.”

  “Town?”

  Hroombra smiled at his small pupil’s incessant questions. Most schoolmasters would’ve grown impatient by now but not Hroombra. He took a small breath and answered, “In Aldehren, where the schoolhouse is.”

  “Why can’t we stay here?” Jahrra pressed, becoming slightly upset.

  “Oh, no Jahrra, you must go to school and be taught by a teacher of your own kind. A dragon may be a good tutor for you on occasion, but it’s not for most children,” Hroombra said seriously.

  Jahrra stood with her brow furrowed. What’s wrong with having a dragon as a teacher? she wondered to herself.

  “Well then, shall we get going? It’ll take quite a while to get to the schoolhouse. Unfortunately I’m not as young as I used to be or else we could fly there. We’ll have to make do with walking.”

  Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede looked up at Hroombra in disbelief. Walk?! All the way to town? Jahrra thought with horror. She was certain it would take her more than a day to walk to town.

  Hroombra realized what they were all thinking and smiled once more. “Don’t worry! You three can ride on my back. We’ll arrive faster that way.”

  Jahrra’s expression of disbelief turned to one of enthusiasm and even Scede and Gieaun brightened as they imagined riding atop a dragon. Jahrra scuttled over to the decrepit stone staircase that flanked the doorway into the Ruin. She smiled at her friends confidently as she climbed the stairs and came level with Hroombra’s thorny back.

  Gieaun and Scede watched in awe as she grabbed a hold of one of Hroombra’s worn spikes and hauled herself onto his cool, rough back. Once she gained her balance and breath Jahrra beamed down at her friends. “The trick,” she breathed, “is sitting between the spikes.”

  Hroombra turned his great head, almost knocking Jahrra off balance, and grinned down at the two timorous children that stood before him.

  “Now it’s your turn.”

  Scede reluctantly climbed the steps, swallowed and took a deep breath. Jahrra thought he looked a little like a kitten determined to make a big jump. He grabbed the bony spike just behind Jahrra and pulled himself up with excessive force, almost throwing himself clear over Hroombra’s back. His sister was next, releasing a tiny squeak as she pulled herself up. Finally the three of them were perched precariously upon the great dragon’s back, looking a lot like stranded sailors lying across the keel of a capsized boat.

  Hroombra turned his great head to view the children once more and chuckled at the sight.

  “I promise to walk slowly,” he said, “but it may take some getting used to.”

  And with that the great reptile left the ruined building behind, crossing the wide field and heading north along the old road that twisted down the side of the Great Sloping Hill.

  -

  Chapter Four -

  Surviving the First Day of School

  Hroombra’s ambling trek down the twisting dirt road was both soothing and refreshing to the anxious children. The road itself was wide and smooth like a great lazy snake creeping through the autumn-dried fields. The view of the farmlands and distant ocean from the bluff’s edge was off to their left but Jahrra had trouble seeing past the few trees that grew on the brink, even from the height of a dragon’s back. Instead she turned her sights to the looming Wreing Florenn on the other side of the road, looking like a sleeping monster basking in the early morning light.

  Jahrra felt Scede shift behind her to get a better look at the landscape surrounding them. Once he was finally settled she relaxed a bit and breathed in the scent of fresh morning dew, smiling inwardly as the group crossed the Danu Creek. The bridge that spanned this small waterway was wide and made of heavy logs, creaking irritably as Hroombra set his weight to it.

  “Have no fear,” he said, shocking the children into an attentive posture, “it’ll hold.”

  Jahrra had no doubt that it would but when she glanced back at Gieaun and Scede she could tell they hadn’t been so sure. Between the creaks and groans of the old bridge Jahrra heard the bubbling of the shallow water below. She was sure that if it wasn’t for Hroombra’s deep breathing, the noisy complaints of the bridge and the anxious sounds coming from Gieaun and Scede every now and then behind her, she would’ve been able to hear the water trickling over the bluff’s edge several yards away.

  Gieaun and Scede released two small sighs of relief when Hroombra finally stepped back onto solid ground. Jahrra sighed too, but not out of concern. The cool morning air felt wonderfully refreshing as it coated her lungs, leaving the distinct taste of fire smoke behind. She smiled dreamily, leaning into Hroombra’s vast, soft neck and listened to his deep, strong heartbeat.

  It wasn’t long, however, before Jahrra was pulled away from her relaxed pose. The view from the road was beginning to shift and she could now see the fields far below, their dark furrows of earth dressed in the rich colors of early autumn’s ripening crops. Jahrra and her new friends now passed the time searching for the slivers of white dunes and glinting sea peeking between the trunks of tall trees, pointing and gasping at the delightful sight.

  Hroombra chuckled and picked up his lumbering pace forcing Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede to grasp for his spikes to keep from sliding off. He gently ruffled his leathery wings before folding them back up again as they resumed their light flapping sound as they brushed against his flanks.

  About halfway down the winding road, Jahrra saw something that took complete control of her attention. “Oh, Master Hroombra! What’s this place again?” she squealed as she pointed at two degraded stone towers tucked into the woods to their right.

  They resembled the tower at the Castle Guard Ruin but besides the dead ivy and forest debris piled against them, they looked relatively undamaged.

  “Those two turrets once marked the entrance to the great castle of Oescienne. Very long ago there was a bridge spanning between the tops of them with a massive gate at their base. Anyone wishing to visit the king or queen would have to enter through that strong gate. This way the king’s soldiers could make sure no one wishing harm upon their majesties entered the castle grounds.”

  Jahrra looked on in wonder, trying hard to picture every last detail her mentor described. Behind her she could sense Gieaun and Scede leaning forward to get a better look and she imagined they too were trying to picture it.

  Hroombra continued on as the children listened, “The entire castle was once surrounded by a great wall. There was another much larger tower just on the other side of this road, on that small hill there.”

  Hroombra nodded to a smaller path leading down to a hillock jutting off the western side of the road. Jahrra couldn’t see a tower; all she could see was a small grove of trees with a ring of weathered stone resembling a fire pit and the bare earth within it.

  “What happened to the king and queen?” Gi
eaun queried in a meek voice.

  Hroombra turned his great head, a troubled look etched on his creased face. “That, my child, is a story for another time, but not for today.”

  Although Hroombra had used a gentle voice the hint of sorrow lingering within it caused Gieaun to hunch down like a scolded dog. Jahrra realized with mild irritation that they wouldn’t be visiting the castle ruin today. She slumped a little and like Gieaun, she wondered what had happened to the king of Oescienne. If there was a castle and people to guard it, how could there no longer be a king? Jahrra shook her head, trying her best to be content with the sights around her as they continued on down the hill and into the farmland. She would have to find out the answers to her questions another day.

  The trip to Aldehren, which would have taken an hour in a cart, took twice as long with Hroombra’s slow pace. The children didn’t mind, however; they used this time to get to know their carrier and it wasn’t every day one got to take a ride on a dragon’s back. Gieaun got up the courage to ask Hroombra if he could breathe fire and he happily demonstrated this by breathing a stream of deep red flame that seemed to split the air. The children clapped in delight and even Scede smiled and joined in.

  When they finally reached the bottom of the hill Hroombra promptly turned northwest taking the road with a sign that read Aldehren, Hassett Town and Toria Town. The fields that stood between the Great Sloping Hill and Aldehren were practically deserted but the few people that were out on this fine morning stopped to watch curiously, or cautiously, as the huge dragon carrying three young children passed by.

  Jahrra thought they looked like rag dolls bent over their fields, nurturing the delicate plants that stood stark and helpless in the chill air. Some of the farmers leaned against shovels and rakes in order to give their aching backs a rest. Jahrra waved hesitantly but the people just continued to stare like living statues, probably too far away to have seen the gesture. Their tiny crude stone houses littered the flatlands like large boulders overgrown with sod. If it hadn’t been for the narrow tendrils of smoke curling from their green roofs, or the glint of the sun reflecting off their minute windows, Jahrra would’ve dismissed the huts as eroding piles of rocks.

 

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