The Beginning

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  “Well,” Denaeh gave a small grin and clasped her hands together, “now that I have completed my tale, how about we get to work on these costumes . . ?”

  They spent a few moments deciding on what to make of the mounds of horsehair, finally deciding on one of the dark creatures that roamed the earth on Sobledthe.

  “I think you should all go as grouldahs, the wolves that hunt down lost souls,” Denaeh offered after they had argued for quite some time. “They have a mane of grayish, grizzled hair running from their head to their tails, and you have plenty of tangled hair here to use.”

  She picked up a tuft in one hand and eyed it in scrutiny.

  “That sounds a little scary,” Gieaun said uneasily, dropping her handful onto the pile with a soft swish.

  “It’s probably the best and easiest way to use up your horsehair, without dressing as horses that is,” the Mystic added, smiling. “Besides, I doubt anyone else will be dressed as grouldahs.”

  “I think we should do it, come on guys!” Scede exclaimed, practically bouncing. “We can pretend we are searching for lost souls on Sobledthe Eve!”

  With some more pleading from Jahrra and Scede, Gieaun reluctantly agreed on the costume idea. Scede was thrilled. Like any boy, he loved the idea of dressing as a terrifying creature.

  “We’ll just tell everyone that we are demon wolves, okay?” he told his squeamish sister.

  “Oh, alright!” she concurred in exasperation, not at all enjoying the idea of dressing as something hideous. “I don’t see how calling ourselves demon wolves instead of grouldahs makes it any better.”

  Denaeh silently observed the three children, chatting quietly about the tale they’d just heard while working through the tangled horsehair. Although the Mystic’s eyes were open and she donned a pleasant smile, her attention wasn’t with them. Her thoughts were far away from the three young people sitting beside her fire. She thought of Jahrra especially, and as she thought of Jahrra, she thought of the girl’s guardian.

  He would have already told her some things; he would want her to be somewhat prepared, but why not everything? Yet it is not just the old dragon’s essence I can sense surrounding the girl, there is something else. She pursed her lips in concentration as she tried to think of what it was that was bothering her; a presence of some other authority in the corner of Jahrra’s young mind, an authority that had some power over the older dragon who watched over her. No, it’s not the Korli who keeps the truth from her. He is being influenced by someone else, possibly someone who could be dangerous. Denaeh shivered as she thought about who could have that kind of power over the great Korli dragon Hroombramantu.

  The Mystic stored away her thoughts for another day and drew herself back to reality, seeing the children once again. They were still talking about the mysteries of the prophecy when her full attention finally returned to them.

  “She’ll have black hair for sure,” Jahrra said as she braided brown and grey strands of mane into a rope. “Black hair is so intimidating. And black eyes. She couldn’t have blue or green or hazel eyes, who can intimidate a tyrant king without dark eyes?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Jahrra!” Gieaun proclaimed. “It doesn’t matter what her eyes or hair looks like, she has to be strong and tall!” She was picking around the pile of horsehair looking for the lightest colors.

  “What do you think Scede?” she added after finding what she was looking for.

  Scede was suddenly attacked by two pairs of eyes, and he fumbled a little bit before answering.

  “I hate to take away the thrill you two are having by thinking a girl is going to save Ethoes, but I think it will be her army that really destroys the king, not her all by herself.”

  “Oh, Scede, you ruin everything!” Gieaun said, throwing her arms up in the air in mock outrage.

  Scede shrugged and got back to work untangling his own pile of horsehair, not caring much whether he dashed the hopes of the girls or not.

  The three finished their simple costumes that day, and it was late afternoon before they finally waved goodbye to Denaeh and headed home, still discussing the prophecy.

  “Why don’t you just ask Master Hroombra about it?” Gieaun queried. “I’m sure he knows something, he knows everything about Ethoes.”

  Jahrra hesitated before answering. If she really wanted to know, she would ask Hroombra, but something in the pit of her stomach warned her against it. He would wonder where she’d heard the story, and she wasn’t going to tell him about Denaeh and how she’d discovered her in the Belloughs of the Black Swamp.

  Suddenly, as if prompted by some unknown spirit whispering into her conscience, Jahrra remembered the paintings on the walls of the Castle Ruin. Could they be about the story of the prophecy? she wondered. She still hadn’t told Gieaun and Scede about the mural, and she imagined she never would. Hroombra had taken her there, just the two of them, and he’d seemed so saddened by it. Telling Gieaun and Scede would be like telling them Hroombra’s darkest, deepest secret. Someday, when she finally knew enough Kruelt to read the dragons’ tongue, she would go back there and find out. Until then she would just have to wait.

  “I can’t ask him,” she said finally, batting a swamp fly away from Phrym’s ears. “If I do, I’ll have to tell him about Denaeh. And if I tell him about Denaeh, then I’ll have to tell him I went into the Black Swamp.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Gieaun conceded. “I just hope she tells us more about it next time.”

  “You mean, you’ll come back to the Belloughs with me again someday?” Jahrra asked with a smile.

  “I guess so,” Gieaun replied, trying not to let her grin show.

  The three friends pointed their horses in the direction of home and the conversation turned to the upcoming Sobledthe holiday. As they disappeared over the low hills of the Black Swamp, the strange woman called Archedenaeh watched them closely, wondering, wondering . . .

  A loud caw from Milihn broke her concentration and she jumped slightly.

  “Milihn! You mustn’t do that!” she breathed quietly.

  The large bird merely looked at his master with one jet-black eye. Denaeh nodded ever so slightly and he hopped off her shoulder, disappearing into the depths of the forest.

  -Chapter Four-

  Setting the Trap

  The next couple of weeks passed by slowly, and Gieaun, Jahrra and Scede spent much of their free time working diligently on their nearly-complete lake monster.

  “I really hope we’re done by Solsticetide!” Scede breathed exhaustedly as the three friends rode home from school. “It would be nice to do absolutely nothing over the winter break for once.”

  They had just over a month to finish their project if they wished to have it done by the Solstice, but their weekend was already spoken for. Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede had more exciting things to do than spend their few days off from school stranded on an island in the middle of a lake draping wet, smelly seaweed over a frame of wooden bones. Instead, they would be pre-occupied at the Sobledthe celebration in Lensterans.

  “Until tomorrow!” Jahrra shouted as she reined Phrym off the main road and towards his awaiting stable.

  She gave him an extra handful of honeyed oats and patted him goodnight, realizing that there was no way she was going to sleep easily knowing what lay ahead tomorrow.

  Hroombra walked Jahrra to Wood’s End Ranch the next morning so that he could wish the children farewell. Jahrra had wanted to take Phrym and leave him with the horses, but Hroombra had insisted on taking her himself.

  “Are you sure you won’t go with us?” Kaihmen asked the old dragon as he harnessed the horses to the family carriage.

  “Oh yes, I’m sure,” Hroombra answered cheerily. “The journey is too long and tiring for my old bones.”

  “Very well,” Kaihmen said with a grin, “but you’re going to miss out.”

  Hroombra chuckled heartily, his golden dragon eyes crinkling with his smile. “Oh, I’ve participated in greater S
obledthe ceremonies than the one you’ll be witnessing today. I think I shall be content.”

  Kaihmen could only shake his head in response. “You’ll have to tell us about those one of these days. Children, are you ready?”

  After everyone was piled comfortably in the cart, Kaihmen slapped the reins and the horses started forward. Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede turned to wave as they watched Hroombra’s form disappear in the distance.

  It took them a few hours to climb southward down the Sloping Hill and make their way across the northern edge of the Oorn Plain. As the rickety carriage and its five passengers closed in on the wide Oorn River, Jahrra could see the sprawling rural city of Lensterans rising out of the farmland in the distance. Her level of excitement rose as the horses’ hooves echoed against the wide wooden bridge that spanned the river.

  “We’re almost there!” Gieaun whispered harshly, as if speaking any louder would shatter this wonderful moment.

  “Look! I can see people in costume already!” Scede added, pointing down a long street bedecked with cornstalks and colorful gourds.

  Weaving between the light posts and the sidewalks were a few adults and several children clothed in brilliantly colored outfits. One man was dressed as a goblin, another as a terrifying demon. The cluster of children, squealing in the hysterical fashion of the holiday, tore ahead of them like a pack of magical forest creatures fleeing from some great doom. Jahrra felt a prickle of unbearable anticipation and it took every ounce of her energy to keep herself from leaping out of the carriage and joining them.

  Once free of the tugging flow of the crowd and disorienting hum of music, Nuhra and Kaihmen led the horses to the stables and got them settled while the children hurriedly got into their own festive garb. The costumes themselves were composed of wolf masks and a tangle of multi-colored horsehair running down the backs of the coats they wore. The simple disguises were reinforced with wolf-like paws that they had attached to the ends of their sleeves, adding a final, gruesome touch to their grouldah attire.

  As they explored the town, the three friends spotted other children both younger and older then themselves, chatting cheerily and walking past them without glaring or making snide remarks. They smiled and breathed a sigh of relief, hoping they wouldn’t see Eydeth or Ellysian. Once the three friends made their way further into town, however, they spotted a few of their classmates. Unfortunately, some of these people took it upon themselves to comment on their home-made disguises.

  “Nice costumes, what are you supposed to be, starving wolves?” remarked a familiar crony of Eydeth’s. He was dressed, appropriately, as a goblin. “I can understand Jahrra dressing as a starving wolf,” he continued in a loud voice for all his friends to hear, “but Gieaun and Scede, you have enough money to afford food, and decent costumes!”

  Jahrra seethed and glared at him, but as soon as he saw Nuhra and Kaihmen walking a few paces behind the children, the older boy ducked his head and ran off down the road. I wish I was a real grouldah, Jahrra thought furiously, his would be the first soul I’d come after!

  The three friends soon forgot their unpleasant schoolmate and focused their energy on their surroundings. Pumpkins, apples and corn stalks decorated the wide streets and stone buildings, along with tattered scarecrows and gourds of every size, shape and color. Jahrra stopped to watch as several people dressed in a multitude of colorful costumes ran by, chasing each other in a spirited game of hide-and-go-seek. She gazed in wonder at some of the disguises, many of which put hers and her friends’ to shame.

  A bright yellow lion with a full amber mane went whizzing by, roaring after a green and gold fairy with giant, ornate wings that jingled delicately with tiny gold bells. A group of adults sitting around a table at an outdoor cafe were dressed as great elfin warriors, complete with elaborately etched, shining armor and flowing capes. Further down the road and closer towards the center of town there was a group of children dressed as a flock of brilliantly colored tropical birds. Jahrra laughed as they chased each other around the adults, flapping their wings and squawking. Her personal favorite, however, was a red-hued dragon that looked remarkably like Hroombra, except for the color of course.

  Once they’d walked through the main hub of town and seen all there was to see, Kaihmen and Nuhra bought the children caramel apples and piping apple cider. Jahrra welcomed the spicy, hot drink with vigor. It made her breath steam in the crisp air, warming her from the inside out. She munched on her apple as she and her friends looked more closely at the buildings they passed on the streets.

  All of the shops and restaurants displayed their goods and products outdoors beneath wooden booths. Every one of them served or sold fresh harvest fruits and vegetables and souvenirs for the children to bring back home with them. Jahrra was thrilled to see so many wonderful things, from painted pinwheels to colorful paper dragon kites on strings. The group gradually made their way towards the town square, and once they managed to break through the thronging crowd, Jahrra gaped in wide-eyed wonder.

  There, encircling an empty fountain in the place where several roads met, sat a cluster of children of every age, their eyes latched on dancers garbed as glittering fairies and silver unicorns making merry around the center of the square. Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede stopped and stared in wonder. It was like watching one of Hroombra’s or Denaeh’s stories coming to life. Soon, several other mythical woodland creatures joined the revelers, frolicking merrily while playing flutes and harps and clashing cymbals, twirling bright ribbons streaming from wands. The play lasted only an hour, and although the children begged for more, the unicorns and fairies pranced away to entertain another waiting group.

  By now it was late afternoon and Kaihmen and Nuhra had to drag the hypnotized children reluctantly back to the stables to harness the horses and head home.

  “Oh please, Father! Mother! Can we stay just a half hour more?!” Scede complained as Kaihmen hauled him by his hairy paw. “We’re plenty old enough to stay after dark! It’s silly to have to leave so soon!”

  “Just twenty more minutes, please!” Gieaun whined, being pushed onward by her mother.

  Jahrra plodded along gloomily, wishing secretly that she could stay as well.

  “We’ve been here long enough. You should be glad you got to come at all,” Nuhra answered in a stern voice.

  They all sighed and with one last expression of their disappointment, all three of them plopped down on the back bench of the cart, looking longingly at the enchanted town as it faded behind them in the golden light of promised sundown.

  Despite the fact that they were leaving before the true festivities began, Jahrra had had the time of her life. Her elated mood was only smothered when she realized that there was still another month of school before the Solstice season began. She grumbled inwardly as they passed over the bridge spanning the Oorn River.

  Just focus on the lake monster, it’s almost done, she told herself as they traveled across the newly harvested fields cloaked in the eerie blue of approaching twilight.

  ***

  Autumn eventually faded away and the rime-encrusted earth slowly submitted to winter’s harsh grasp, leaving Jahrra clinging to the happy memories of the Fall Festival as she focused her sights on the end of the school term. Solsticetide was drawing near, but even the prospect of the long break couldn’t drive the anxiety from her bones. This was the first year that she and her older classmates would be taking a series of excruciating exams in order to move on in their grade level. Naturally, Jahrra dreaded these tests with every fiber of her being and just the mere thought of the extra math work and history lessons gave her a headache. Worse was what would happen if she failed to pass her exams. Not only would she be forced to study all during her break in order to re-take them before school started, but failure to pass the first time would only give Eydeth and Ellysian one more thing to taunt her about.

  Jahrra sighed as she stretched out before the great fireplace in the common room of the Castle Guard Ruin. She had finish
ed studying and was now trying to memorize some very difficult Draggish words. Hroombra made sure to peek up from his reading every now and again to flash her an encouraging smile full of dagger-like teeth.

  As she struggled over the dragons’ words, Jahrra tried hard to forget about her sore muscles and aching joints. She’d spent the better part of her weekend at the cabin east of the Aldehr River fending off Yaraa’s quick attacks and parrying Viornen’s direct sword blows. Her weekend meetings with the two elves had started early that fall, and although she had improved immensely over the past two summers, the elves both agreed that Jahrra would benefit even further if she met with them all year round.

  “The exercises and techniques will only be getting harder as you progress, so it’s important that you check in with us regularly,” Viornen had told her seriously.

  Jahrra wasn’t frustrated with the extra lessons; she loved training with the elves, but she was disappointed that it meant less time to help Gieaun and Scede finish the lake monster. More often than not, the Resai siblings would have to go out to Lake Ossar to work on the monster on their own. Jahrra hated to be held back while they worked, but her two friends assured her they didn’t mind spending more time on the project than she did.

  “Hithe ist dodthe yiroehnin?”

  The sudden intrusion of Hroombra’s voice made Jahrra yelp.

  “Huh?” she uttered, frantically trying to translate Hroombra’s words in her mind.

  “How are you doing?” he repeated in the common tongue.

  Jahrra scowled. She was seconds away from deciphering what he’d said and kicked herself for not being quicker. She took a deep breath and answered slowly and carefully, “Aardthe rhesin phoerrel. Not so good.”

  “Ah,” Hroombra grinned, “you have much on your mind now. We’ll spend more time on your Krueltish lessons once your exams are over.”