[Oescienne 01.0] The Finding Read online

  The creature narrowed its eyes in perusal, now recognizing the younger dragon as the other presence it had felt. The being knew this dragon, knew him well. But where had he been since the last time . . . ? Never mind that, thought the creature bitterly, he’s here and he’s found something very important, very important indeed.

  Just as the Tanaan dragon turned away for flight, the creature caught a glimpse of the powerful spirit it had sensed before. It looked like a Nesnan child, an infant, wrapped in a bundle of colorful cloth. The creature’s eyes glittered and crackled in slight confusion as a cold wave of disappointment poured over it. What could he possibly have a child for? And why does her life force feel so important?

  A sudden blast of strong wind caused by the dragon’s passing overhead made the creature cower once again. This was no place to stand and think about what it had just witnessed, so it quickly ducked behind a large eucalyptus tree and drifted like a semi-solid smoke back into the heart of the trees, muttering to itself the entire way.

  As Jaax soared over the Wreing Florenn in the last light of day, his long shadow skittering across the tops of the dark trees, the creature crept over the forest floor with, for the first time in many, many years a glimmer of anticipation. I don’t know what that dragon was doing with an infant, but I intend to find out. And why would an infant’s spirit call so strongly to me? it wondered. I may not know now, but I have all the time in Ethoes to find out.

  With a flicker of determined patience, the creature disappeared into the depths of the woods to do what it did best, to wait.

  - Chapter Three-

  Dreams, Dragons and Making Friends

  The mist was always the same, low to the ground but rising quickly as if being brushed up by some mighty, undetectable breeze. He was always there too, a figure shrouded in an emerald, cowled cloak. His behavior seemed restless this time but the only way to tell for sure would be to look at his face. Unfortunately, it was hidden beneath his shadowy hood like always. The stranger stepped forward, slowly cresting the top of the small knoll that marked the boundary of the forest and the small orchard. Sometimes he seemed cautious, sometimes he seemed amused, but he always kept silent, at least that is how Jahrra always perceived him.

  As the man stood gazing down at her under the shadow of his cloak, Jahrra could almost feel his eyes locking with hers. She’d always wondered if this strange man was young or old, brutal or kind, dark or fair, but he’d never shown his identity, not once. She wondered if he had black hair or blonde like hers. She even wondered, with delight, if he was an elf, like the brave elves in the stories her father and Master Hroombra told her. In fact, the only thing she did know about him was that he was tall, much taller than her father and that he never said a single word to her.

  Jahrra looked up once more at the stranger, hoping to see something of his identity. But he bowed his head ever so slightly, causing Jahrra to wake with a start.

  “Jahrra dear, time to get up, breakfast is ready!”

  Lynhi stepped into the room a few moments later and looked down at the young girl in slight bewilderment. “Oh my, did you have another bad dream?”

  “Oh no Nida, I was just startled awake is all!” Jahrra replied through a yawn. She often called her mother Nida and her father Pada. She’d been calling them this for as long as . . . As long as I’ve had that dream. Since forever, she thought.

  The dream of the tall stranger had been frightening at first, but when it started recurring Jahrra became less and less fearful of her enigmatic visitor. She couldn’t remember the first time it had come to her; all she knew was that every now and then while she slept she would end up in a misty orchard all alone except for her imaginary companion.

  “Don’t linger too long, your food will get cold and you’ll miss the wagon to Master Hroombra’s,” Lynhi called over her shoulder on her way back downstairs.

  “Master Hroombra!” Jahrra squeaked as she leaped out of bed.

  She always enjoyed visiting Hroombra at the Castle Guard Ruin on the edge of the Great Sloping Hill. Once a week she met with the dragon to learn all about Oescienne and the stories of old. He told her tales of real elves, the ones who can perform magic and live forever. He also told her stories of the Tulle people and dwarves who lived outside of the boundaries of Oescienne.

  When she was at Master Hroombra’s Jahrra heard stories of all the strange and wonderful creatures of Ethoes, including all the other dragons of the world. The stories about the dragon Raejaaxorix were Jahrra’s favorite. She would sit in wide-eyed wonder, her ears prickling to hear more about the noble dragon that fought against the terrifying beasts and menacing bands of raiders roaming the countryside terrorizing the weak and the innocent.

  Hroombra reveled in telling Jahrra these stories but he never mentioned the fact that the Tanaan dragon had a role in her life. He still feared the younger dragon wouldn’t keep his promise about checking in on the girl. For now, Hroombra found solace in his decision by telling Jahrra stories of Jaax from years ago, before he became as embittered as he now was.

  Six years had passed since the younger dragon had brought Jahrra to her foster parents, and he hadn’t been back since. Hroombra had received word from him on several occasions; a letter or two informing the older dragon of his various diplomatic activities, but not once had he mentioned a possible visit to Oescienne. Hroombra didn’t let it get him down, however. Jaax was known for avoiding emotional situations and this one was no different. He would come around in his own time.

  Hroombra expected that Jaax would receive quite a surprise when he eventually returned. Jahrra was no longer an infant and she’d grown to be quite a handful. She was always climbing trees, splashing over creeks and running through fields. She was constantly exploring and having a great time: building forts from piles of pruned branches her father had created, gathering wildflowers to spruce up the kitchen, or bringing in lizards and other crawling things she insisted were her friends, keeping her frustrated and repulsed mother constantly on edge.

  Lynhi never knew if she might find some strange caterpillar on the kitchen table or reach her hand into the dirty laundry to find a family of snails living there. Soon, however, Jahrra would be starting school with the rest of the local children. Despite the fact that Lynhi was looking forward to fewer encounters with unidentifiable bugs and reptiles, she and Abdhe were anxious about the approaching school season.

  They worried mostly about Jahrra’s interaction with the other children; she’d only ever known them and Hroombra. The isolation of their orchard, the fact that no other youngsters lived close by and the lack of time and finances to visit town more often had forced Jahrra to grow up with the farm animals as her friends. They made good companions, but they couldn’t teach her about living in the great world that existed beyond her home.

  Another of her parents’ concerns was the girl’s stubborn personality. They feared she wouldn’t listen to her schoolmasters and might cause trouble with her peers once her classes began. She was bright and very eager to learn, but mostly only what Hroombra was willing to teach her.

  When Abdhe and Lynhi approached the elderly dragon with their concern he simply replied, “Life itself is an ongoing school lesson. She’ll be fine. It may be rough at first, but she’ll learn when to ask questions and when it’s time to listen. Don’t worry so much, she isn’t as misplaced as you think she is.”

  Hroombra’s reassurance calmed them a little, but they still had their doubts. They thought that perhaps her human characteristics might stand out among the mostly Resai group.

  Nevertheless, Hroombra assured them that no one would ever guess she was full-blooded human. “The others have never even seen a human. They wouldn’t know what one looks like. Even if some of their parents have seen humans before, it’s been so long since there were any in Ethoes, I doubt they’ll notice.”

  Abdhe and Lynhi knew that Jahrra had to grow up thinking she was Nesnan elf for her own safety, but being a Nesnan in an elit
e Resai school wouldn’t be easy. There had always been great debate over those who found themselves in the middle of these two races, whether they were Resai or Nesnan, and whether they could prove it with family records. Many feuds were fought and many grudges set, simply over something as silly as who was more elfish than the next person.

  It had become a status war and Hroombra, Lynhi and Abdhe hoped that Jahrra wouldn’t get caught up in the middle of it. What Abdhe and Lynhi knew, however, was that above everything else Jahrra’s true identity must be kept secret. But at the moment, the only thing they need be concerned about was getting Jahrra to her first day of school on time.

  Jahrra traipsed downstairs into the kitchen of the small cabin breathing in the rich aromas of bacon, eggs and fried potatoes. These scents along with the anticipation of another great story of dragons and unicorns and other mystical creatures from Hroombra had finally coaxed her out of bed. Her hair looked like a tangled haystack and her eyes were gritty but she was now fully awake. She took a deep breath and thought a little about the dream of the hooded figure still lingering in her mind. She often wondered if he could be someone she’d once known or someone who existed in real life. Maybe he’s my true father coming to visit me in my dreams! she mused before forgetting it altogether.

  This thought often made her feel guilty, so she dashed it aside immediately if it ever pushed itself to the front of her mind. Jahrra knew that she was adopted. Abdhe and Lynhi had told her that her true mother and father died when she was just a baby. She loved them both very much but always wondered what her real parents had been like.

  Jahrra sighed and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and shuffled across the rough stone floor and down the stairs to meet breakfast. She would think about her dream later when there weren’t so many smells distracting her nose and stomach. She entered the tiny kitchen to find her mother working over the food on the stove. Her father was sitting at their little dining table, smoking his pipe and fidgeting with a tool.

  “What’re you doing Pada?” Jahrra asked through a yawn.

  “I’m just fixing my ball peen hammer. Look, the metal part has loosened from the wood.” Abdhe lowered the tool so she could see. He wore his usual brown work pants, white shirt and faded vest. His age-roughened face was covered in stubble and his feathery light hair floated around his head as if it wasn’t attached to anything. His eyes were fixed on the hammer in intense concentration. “I’m trying to attach a metal strip to keep it in place.”

  He had such old hands, Jahrra thought, but they were experienced hands. They had made so many things grow and had created so many wonderful objects that they’d become tools themselves.

  “Alright, breakfast is ready. Jahrra! You’re not dressed! Go get dressed while I make your plate,” Lynhi scolded in a terse voice as she scraped some eggs onto a chipped plate.

  Jahrra scuffled back upstairs in a disgruntled manner. She hated having to change clothes all the time, and she was hungry. Once back in her room, she quickly pulled on her new school uniform, a plain white shirt and a blue plaid jumper. Jahrra cringed as she pulled the jumper over her head. Yuck! she thought, I hate dresses!

  Her mother had insisted that it was more of a long shirt and not a dress at all but Jahrra wasn’t fooled. She could sniff out a dress if it were buried in the back of an immense closet jammed with clothes. Unfortunately, it had to be worn to her new school. The only way that Lynhi convinced Jahrra to wear it at all was by threatening to keep her from attending Hroombra’s lessons. Jahrra would do anything to keep visiting Hroombra, even wear a pudgy, itchy, bulky dress.

  Jahrra quickly pulled on her long socks over her bare feet, squirming as she tried to move in the restrictive uniform. She didn’t usually wear anything so formal but was always running about in long pants and shirts that were too big for her, her hair streaming wildly behind her like golden silk.

  Jahrra yanked at her collar as she scurried back downstairs as fast as she could, anticipating potatoes and eggs. The sun was poking its fingers through the trees in the east when she finally sat down to a plate of steaming food. The little bit of fog that lingered on the edge of the woods was slowly creeping away and the golden sunlight pierced through the cool autumn air like a hot knife through butter.

  “Hroombra tells us that he’ll be taking you to your first day of school,” Lynhi began the conversation somewhat cautiously, setting down her half-eaten toast. “In fact, he’s told us that he’s sure there’ll be at least fifteen other students in your class. You’ll get to meet other children from around Oescienne, how does that sound?”

  Jahrra sat poking at her bacon with her fork. She didn’t like the idea of sharing Hroombra with anyone else but she answered her mother nonetheless, “Good I suppose.”

  “Just good? I think it’ll be great for you to meet someone else your own age. You’ll make friends and play games and learn so much more. Aren’t you looking forward to it?”

  Jahrra thought about this for a while and then figured it would be nice to see what other children were like. She nodded with a small smile and got back to breakfast. Lynhi in turn looked at her husband who gave her a quick she’s-going-to-be-just-fine look before returning to his work.

  Jahrra finished her breakfast and dumped the plate into the hot, soapy water waiting in the sink. She grabbed the thick wool sweater her mother had knitted for her, pulled on her mud-crusted boots and ran out the front door, jamming it shut behind her.

  “Now be careful, and mind your manners! And be sure to keep your shoes on the entire day!” Lynhi shouted after her, following her halfway to the closed door.

  Abdhe chuckled behind her.

  “What?” she asked in a snappish manner, turning to glare at him with her hands on her hips.

  Abdhe smiled, thinking amusedly of how much his wife sometimes reminded him of a spirited child stuck in an older woman’s body.

  “You worry too much. If she makes a few mistakes the first day, it’s not the end of the world. We’re all entitled to some mistakes when we’re first learning.”

  When Lynhi continued to glare down at him with her lips pursed in slight annoyance he took a wearied breath and continued, “She isn’t the only one going to her first day of school you know. The other children are facing the same fear that she is. Relax, she’ll be fine.”

  Lynhi eased a little and moved to gaze out the front window. “I hope you’re right,” she said as she watched their young daughter skip down the path.

  Abdhe simply smiled and chortled and shook his head as he fidgeted some more with the hammer that refused to cooperate with him.

  As Lynhi peered out the window like a mother bear eyeing her cub, Jahrra sprinted to the end of the rocky path that led to the main road. After several moments she stopped to catch her breath and glance back at the little stone cabin. It looked the same way it did six years ago when she first arrived here; nothing had changed but perhaps a little growth on the trees in the orchard and a little more moss on the roof.

  The small, two-storied structure was the image of home to Jahrra. She simply adored the way that none of the stones in the walls were smooth, but rather they were rough and jagged like they’d been chipped off of some huge rock by a giant’s pick. The tiny house always smelled of earthly things like old smoke, dried lavender, soil, leather and eucalyptus oil. Sometimes it would smell of the wildflowers she or her mother collected in the spring and summer and every night and every morning it held the aroma of home cooking. Jahrra could always count on that.

  The first sound of rickety cart wheels in the distance caused the young girl to jump out of her reverie and release a small yelp of fright. Once she saw that it was only the mail cart creeping up over the hill in the distance however, she grinned in relief. The mail cart always picked Jahrra up on the days she met with Hroombra and it was always driven by Mr. Dharedth the mail carrier. The mailman was a kind soul, not grumpy like most letter carriers in town. He was big and jovial with brown hair, brown eyes and a fu
ll beard, one that he was quite proud of.

  Jahrra would ask him about it sometimes since her father didn’t grow a beard, “How do you get your hair to grow on your face like that?”

  “Well Little Jahrra,” Dharedth would say cheerfully, “it takes time, patience and the ability to keep oneself groomed.”

  Jahrra would sit on the wooden seat next to the mail carrier and ponder this question on their drives to the Castle Guard Ruin. “I think I’ll try to grow one myself,” she would answer after spending some time lost in thought.

  Dharedth then laughed warmly, telling Jahrra not to try too hard. He didn’t think a beard would look too becoming on a young girl. Jahrra would smile up at the middle-aged Nesnan man, one of the few people she talked to besides Hroombra and her parents.

  As Jahrra made a mental list of all the questions she’d be asking her new classmates, the wobbly old hay wagon she’d heard only moments ago pulled up and stopped in front of her drive. The mail cart, a retired hay wagon now full of stuffed canvas bags, was pulled by a fat, tired looking dapple-red horse that sagged sluggishly as soon as the cart stopped moving. Jahrra beamed as Mr. Dharedth gave a gapped-tooth smile above his bristly beard, his form partially blocking the two other children that were already sitting in the cart.

  Jahrra’s heart caught in her throat when she saw them. She had no idea she’d be meeting her new classmates so soon and she suddenly lost the gumption she’d felt earlier. On a normal morning Jahrra would skip up to the cart and hop on, but today she approached warily, keeping her head low and her eyes veiled.

  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?”