The Beginning

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  “Don’t come any closer!” he tried to roar, but his warning only came out as a faint croak, impossible for her to hear over the distance and shouts of the attackers.

  He crouched to take flight again, but before he could leap into the sky, the dark figure on the quahna turned and spotted Jahrra gazing down upon the scene in horror.

  “JAHRRA! RUN!” Jaax roared successfully this time.

  The dark figure pulled his monster around and spotted the dragon just on the edge of the woods. Jaax couldn’t see the cloaked man’s face, but he could feel his malicious grin, cutting across the distance between them like a scythe. No! he thought desperately as the man turned his quahna once more, drawing a wicked-looking sword and charging full speed towards Jahrra and Phrym.

  No longer frozen in shock, Jaax spread his wings and took off from the ground with great speed. He flew low over the field, wishing he could help Hroombra who now lay unconscious beside the Ruin, but knowing nothing, not even aiding the old dragon, was more important than protecting Jahrra. It took Jaax only moments to reach the top of the gentle slope. With the grace of Ethoes, he managed to land right in front of the girl, just before the dark rider reached her. The man pulled his beast to a skidding halt, almost crashing into the Tanaan dragon.

  Jaax unfurled his giant wings to their full extent and stood up as tall as he could on his hind legs, completely blocking Jahrra from view, as he roared a stream of jade and sapphire flames directly at the mercenary. The quahna screamed with rage and fear, but its hide was too thick to suffer much damage from the dragon’s breath, and its rider blocked the torrent of flame with a long shield. The men who had been harassing Hroombra stopped dead and stared blankly at this new, much more powerful dragon in unsettled awe.

  Jaax had a feeling that whoever had sent these men hadn’t counted on another, much more ferocious adversary to stand in their way. He glared down at the man on the demon horse and caught a small glimpse of the right side of his face. The Tanaan dragon lost some of his rage then. He dropped to the ground, staring at his enemy in raw horror. The stolen emblem of the Tyrant; the mark of Cierryon. It was the blood rose of Ethoes, but tainted and twisted in its design. Branded onto this man’s face, it no longer symbolized the life-giving force of the Goddess, but the evil carnage wrought out by the Crimson King.

  The dark stranger pulled his hood tighter over his head, and in an angry, foreign voice, shouted out an order to all of his men. They quickly stopped gawking at Jaax and ran for their horses, tripping and shoving each other out of the way. Within minutes, they had all disappeared over the edge of the northern end of the hill, followed closely by the Tyrant’s servant on the quahna, his dark cloak flapping loosely behind him.

  Jaax stood still for several moments, no longer looking menacing, trying hard to make sense of all he had just witnessed.

  “Jaax! Master Hroombra!” Jahrra said in a panicked voice.

  The Tanaan dragon immediately pulled himself back together and glanced behind him at Jahrra. She had been crying, he could tell by the subtle change in her blue eyes, but the threat was gone for now, and she hadn’t been harmed.

  “Stay here,” he said gruffly.

  He turned without waiting for a response and beat his great wings once, lifting easily into the air, gliding down to where Hroombra lay like a small, cold mountain. When he landed Jaax realized, with overwhelming relief, that the old dragon still lived. He lay there motionless, looking faded and destroyed, and Jaax knew with a painful wrenching of his heart that his oldest friend wouldn’t be with him for very much longer.

  “Hroombramantu!” he breathed, his voice thick with sorrow and regret.

  A small flicker of movement shivered over Hroombra’s worn face, and the Korli dragon opened his golden eyes, peering solemnly up at the young dragon standing before him. A slight smile, pained but necessary, pulled at the corners of his mouth.

  “No, Jaax, I only have strength and time for a few words,” he murmured in a voice that didn’t sound like his own.

  Jaax found it very hard to look down at his mentor, bloody and broken on the cold earth. He wanted to interrupt, to say something, anything, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. All of the apologies he should have made that morning, all of the kind things he had always meant to say, became lodged in his throat, turning into one, great painful lump. Jaax couldn’t speak, so he listened to what Hroombra wanted to say instead.

  The dying dragon took a long, rattling breath and spoke on, “Know only this, you and Jahrra have each other now, and you must rely on one other. I will always love you both, no matter where I am, and I will be watching over you.”

  Hroombra paused and took another ragged breath, his strangely determined voice sounding once again like sandpaper, “Take care of her, as I have cared for her. Promise me you’ll let no harm come to her, promise me!”

  It was so hard to look at Hroombra now, but Jaax knew he owed the old dragon that much. He still owed him so much more.

  When Jaax finally spoke, his voice faltered, “Hroombra, I, I’m sorry.”

  “That does not matter,” Hroombra cut in, whispering on a smile as his eyelids drooped. “I know your spirit, and I know hers. You are both eternally forgiven for what you have said before; you must now set forth and finish this. I have done everything I can, and my time is now up. It is your time now, and hers. Jaax, you must tell her now, it is time, it is time for both of you.”

  With those final words, the old dragon that had been Jaax’s mentor and friend for so many long years, lay his head down and closed his eyes for the last time.

  Jaax stood there for awhile, not knowing what to do, not believing what had just happened, and realizing that everything would now change. He knew, as the sorrow invaded his thoughts, he could no longer put off what his fate insisted on. He could no longer sit back and wait; it was time for him to act. He thought back to the pain of his younger years and allowed it to meld with the ache he now felt. The sorrow and loss, both from the past and from this very moment, slowly filled the emptiness within him, burning him like poison.

  He didn’t know how long he sat there in that position, staring over the lifeless body of his dear friend. It felt like ages, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. The world around him had disappeared and he had grown numb. The clouds had broken and shifted above him, but he couldn’t sense that the sun was no longer directly overhead. It was slowly falling towards the west, painting the thunderheads vermillion, gold and coral, but Jaax didn’t see the sky’s beauty and he was too distracted with grief and shame to hear Jahrra approaching on Phrym. When he finally heard them he suddenly became rigid and turned around very quickly, feeling dizzy from his sudden movement after sitting so still for so long. It felt like his head was filled with water, sloshing around his mind as it drowned out all of his senses.

  His sudden movement surprised Jahrra, causing her to jerk back in the saddle, but not enough so to unnerve Phrym. Jaax flared his wings to their greatest extent and avoided her eyes, gazing off to the side like a child being scolded.

  “What’s wrong?” Jahrra said simply, her voice shaking with fear. “Master Hroombra is hurt, isn’t he?” she continued when Jaax didn’t answer her.

  Jaax could hear the panic and strain of anguish rising in her voice, and he dreaded telling her the truth.

  “Jahrra, you must not see what is behind me.”

  The young dragon could hear his own emotion as he spoke, but he didn’t try to mask it.

  “Master Hroombra!?” Jahrra shouted through a clenched throat. She jumped off Phrym and tried to run past Jaax.

  He knew there was no use in hiding the reality of what had happened any longer. He just wished she didn’t have to see another one of her loved ones lost to evil.

  “Jahrra, I don’t want you to see what is behind me. Please stay back,” Jaax pleaded desperately, his entire body seeming to wilt.

  But Jahrra had a look of knowing in her eyes, and she took
a short breath and spoke the words she feared the most, “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  She barely got it out, some of the words getting caught in her throat, some of them refusing to form. Jaax slowly and reluctantly lowered his wings and stepped away from Hroombra’s lifeless body.

  Jahrra looked past him and let out a choked sob, her eyes now streaming like the rain clouds to the west. She slowly stumbled over to Hroombra’s body. He was so still, and he looked almost like stone. She knelt down and placed her trembling hand on his icy forehead, her tear-blurred eyes taking in the horror before her. It looked like his attackers had broken his wings, a sight that made it hard for her to breathe. He had a few large cuts and abrasions, and Jahrra’s heart clenched at the thought of what he’d gone through. She counted every injury she could find, but couldn’t tell what had caused his death, something she was actually grateful for.

  Finally, Jahrra looked at her guardian’s face, and there, at least, she found some comfort. It didn’t look like he had been in agony, in fact, it was the exact opposite. His eyes were closed and he looked asleep, fast asleep and partaking in a wonderful dream.

  She stroked Hroombra on the head, counting his many wrinkles, all the while trying to remember what the last thing she had said to him was. And then it came back to her. Her face, which was moments ago covered in a mask of sorrow and agony, was now a face of anger and disgust. The last things she had said to Hroombra had been horrible things. She had told him to leave her alone, that she even hated him. Jahrra balled her fists in anger and clenched her teeth. Jaax had done this, all of this. He had made her angry and caused her to attack Hroombra. He had told Hroombra that she would be going away. He had tried to hide the truth from her just now, and he hadn’t been there to protect Hroombra from those horrible men. Just as she had always done in the past, Jahrra now turned her torment on Jaax.

  Before she could verbalize her thoughts, however, Jaax spoke up, whispering gently, “Jahrra, we need to mourn Hroombra’s death, I know.”

  She could hear him swallow, struggling to keep his voice steady.

  “But there is something you need to know, something I must tell you. Please, you have to trust me now.”

  “Trust you?” Jahrra shot back, her voice a quivering whisper. “You want me to trust you? Where were you Jaax! Why weren’t you here when those evil men came and attacked Master Hroombra? He is dead Jaax, he’s dead!” Jahrra screamed with rage, her voice worn raw.

  She took several short breaths, trying very hard not to break down completely. Jaax merely sat there, taking her harsh words, believing he deserved every last one of them.

  Finally, Jahrra spoke again, her voice the smallest of whispers, “He is dead, you came here and caused all of this turmoil, and now he’s gone! Then you ask me to trust you? You who wanted to send me away from my home without even asking my opinion?”

  Jaax took a deep breath, gazing sympathetically down at the shattered young woman below him, hoping that he could find the words to comfort her.

  “Jahrra,” he began weakly, “you have no idea the danger your life is in now, how Hroombra died to protect you. You must understand, it’s up to me now to keep you safe.”

  Jaax wasn’t prepared for Jahrra’s enraged response.

  “Who are you to run my life! You’re a stranger to me!” she fired. “That’s all you’ve ever tried to do, and now Master Hroombra is gone! He’s gone! I bet you’re grateful! Now you can make me do anything, can’t you? No old dragon to stand in your way!”

  Jahrra collapsed fully against the ground, sobbing loudly, letting years of bottled up sorrow, hurt and anger come out all at once. Phrym moved nervously around, blowing and nickering in distress, worrying about the way his friend was acting.

  Jaax understood Jahrra’s anguish more than she realized. He did the only thing he could do for the suffering girl, he stood over her, head bowed, joining in with her pain. Jahrra hated the fact that Jaax was attempting to comfort her, but she was too weary and too weak to run away from him this time.

  “Come Jahrra,” he said in a surprisingly compassionate voice once she’d calmed down a little, “there is something you must see, there is something you must understand. Hroombra wanted you to see this, to know this, and we mustn’t waste anymore time, for dark is soon approaching. Come, and we’ll send Hroombra off to the stars when we return.”

  Jaax slowly coaxed Jahrra away from Hroombra’s still body. She was upset now, but Denaeh and Hroombra had been right all along. She needed to know the truth of who she was, and the sooner she knew the better. Best to get all of today’s shocks out of the way at once, Jaax thought morosely. He hated leaving Hroombra’s lifeless form lying there, but he had to grant his old friend his last dying wish, and he had to do it before sundown.

  Jaax took a breath and turned to Jahrra, who had finally stood up. She was covered in dirt and grime from lying on the ground, and her eyes were red and puffy.

  “Perhaps you should ride?” he offered kindly.

  Jahrra, numb with shock and slightly dazed from her sudden burst of anger, obeyed without a fight. She still hadn’t fully accepted what had happened, and secretly, she felt the need for a distraction. She reluctantly pulled away from Hroombra’s cold body and dragged herself over to Phrym, using Jaax’s forearm to pull herself into the saddle. Jaax slowly led them through the woods and to the north to where the walls of the Castle Ruin lay waiting, waiting to tell its story.

  -Chapter Twenty-

  The Words on the Wall

  The soil was damp and soft underfoot as dragon, girl and semequin made their way across the rain-swept landscape. They slowly ambled northward, keeping their tumultuous thoughts to themselves. Hroombra’s death had been completely unexpected and the truth of it left Jaax cold and empty. He was overwhelmed with sorrow for the loss of his old friend and mentor, but that wasn’t all that troubled his mind. It was now completely up to him to help Jahrra fulfill her destiny. Hroombra was supposed to be here until the end, the dragon thought grimly. How am I going to do this on my own, without his guidance?

  Jaax dropped his head and kept following the winding, overgrown path to the castle. The sun had once again become shrouded with heavy clouds, their cobalt and ash hue painting the world around them in cool colors. Soon the dark walls of the eroded fortress came into view, and Jaax’s heart began to quicken. Suddenly he realized what exactly he would be telling Jahrra in only a few minute’s time. How will she take the truth? What will she do when she learns she isn’t Nesnan like she believed, but human, the only human in Ethoes? he wondered. Hroombra would have done a much better job of telling her than I. Jaax stepped up to the withered façade of the building and then encouraged a very grave Jahrra to tie Phrym up outside.

  The young woman obeyed quietly, her mind too bogged down with emotion to argue. Why would anyone want to hurt Master Hroombra? she thought sadly, vacantly following the murmur of Jaax’s voice like someone under hypnosis.

  “Jaax,” she said suddenly, her voice sounding lumpy and harsh, “who were those men, those men that . . .”

  She couldn’t finish her sentence, and fresh tears sprung to her eyes once again. Jaax answered her unfinished question calmly and patiently.

  “They were mercenaries of the Tyrant, or the hired thugs of one of his lords. He has been searching for Hroombra for many years, and he’s been looking for you too, Jahrra.”

  Jaax was no longer careful with his words. He didn’t need to be. Jahrra was about to know everything very soon.

  Jahrra shot a surprised and watery glance at Jaax.

  After a shaky sigh he said, “Don’t worry. I’ve frightened them off for now.”

  Jahrra continued to give him a confused gaze, forgetting her anger towards him for the moment. Suddenly, Eydeth’s words from a few days ago came rushing back to her: Do you want to know who that man was? I’ll tell you, he was a mercenary for the Crimson King.

  She shivered and turned her eyes away from Jaax, afraid he wo
uld see the truth. Had this all been her fault then? Should she have told them earlier about the man from the Fall Festival? Jahrra tried to choke back a sob, but it was no use.

  “Why would they be looking for me and Master Hroombra, what did he ever do to deserve this?” she cried.

  “Jahrra, whatever you think, you must never think that any of this was your fault.” Jaax locked his eyes with hers, making sure she understood. “Both Hroombra and I took on this responsibility long before you even existed. Any battle against the Crimson King is going to have severe losses. It’s just unfortunate that you’ll ever have to be part of any of them.”

  A flash of alarm sparked across Jahrra’s face, changing her expression.

  “What on Ethoes are you talking about?” she rasped.

  “Come on, I have much to tell you, but first you must hear the story from the walls.”

  Jahrra stared at him, more perplexed than ever. Jaax turned and led her through the entrance hall and toward the ancient dining room where she had once stood many years before with Hroombra. The memory brought back the recent pain she was trying very hard to defeat. It was just after her parents’ deaths that her mentor had brought her here, and now she was back, once again after losing someone else that she loved. She would rather not have gone into that ancient dining room, but she didn’t want to be left alone right now, even if it meant being in the company of Jaax. She followed him, and once they were both within the remains of the great hall, he began reading the Krueltish words, translating them into the common language, as if reciting a somber tragedy. Jahrra forced herself to look at the words as he read them, comprehending each and every one of them the way she could not have those many years ago:

  Feel the wind blowing on your face,

  Taste the water clear,

  Steal the day and all this space,

  Waste not any time but here.