Jahrra stood and moved to sit closer to the cave’s clogged entrance. She crossed her legs and placed an elbow on one knee, setting her chin in her hand. In all honesty, she didn’t mind resting for a few days more. Despite being in shape from her sword practice with her friends back in Lidien, she had grown unaccustomed to long-distance traveling, and her achy muscles appreciated a break. She just wished she wasn’t so bored. She’d added all the details to the animals she’d seen and sketched on their journey so far, Phrym had been brushed and pampered so thoroughly his coat gleamed like silver, and she had read all of the stories in the books she’d brought along with her.
Just as Jahrra stood to polish her sword, for the fourth time, Ellyesce made an appearance at her side. She yelped and almost fell from her boulder. Gods and goddesses of Ethoes, why must he keep sneaking up on her? The elf didn’t seem to notice her agitation, however. He crouched down and pulled a box from somewhere in his cloak and held it out. Jahrra eyed it with suspicion.
“What’s that?” she asked, taking deep breaths to slow her racing heart.
Ellyesce simply grinned, the only feature visible from beneath his hood. “Astral cards,” he responded.
“Huh?” Jahrra said.
Ellyesce settled himself on a rock next to Jahrra and carefully cracked open the lid. He held the box out to her, and she peered inside. Stacked neatly together was a pile of paper cards, slightly yellowed with age, but otherwise, in good shape.
Intrigued, Jahrra lifted a hand, wanting to pick them up and look at them. Her fingers froze before touching the topmost card, however. Clearly, these cards were treasured by their owner.
“Go ahead,” Ellyesce encouraged. “There is an ancient magical charm cast upon them that keeps them safe from normal wear and tear.”
Jahrra gave him a dubious look, but shrugged and gently lifted the first card. The back consisted of a beautifully crafted design of thorny vines and red flowers, bloodroses she realized, set against a parchment with what looked like Kruelt writing on it. She narrowed her eyes and tried to make out what the words said, but the letters were small and covered in some places by the flower motif.
When she flipped the card over, Jahrra couldn’t help but smile a little. On two opposing corners of the card there was a small floral symbol. The face was pale green in color, and the center featured a pattern of stars with a faded dragon superimposed over it. The word Traagien was printed in an archaic, flowing script on the lower right, and likewise in the upper left, but written upside down. Jahrra realized why when she rotated the card around.
“May I?” Ellyesce asked, reaching out a hand.
Jahrra placed the card in his palm.
“Ah, the Dragon in spring. A very good card. Only the signs of magic could beat him.”
Jahrra quirked an eyebrow, and Ellyesce smiled, pulling his hood away from his face.
“How would you like to learn how to read and play Astral cards?”
Jahrra blinked. A game? Ellyesce was going to teach her how to play a game? She nearly salivated at the idea. Finally, something new to drive away her boredom!
She smiled brightly. “I would love to learn how to play.”
“Good,” Ellyesce chuckled and scooped up the rest of the cards. “These have been resting in Gliriant’s saddle bags for far too long now.”
He began laying the cards out on the floor between them, with the bloodrose image face down. Jahrra’s eyes widened with interest. Each card displayed a picture of a star pattern with a name. Some of them were green with that flower symbol she’d seen on her card, others were blue with snowflakes adorning each corner or red with leaves. She recognized a few of the star patterns, but several were only vaguely familiar to her. After a while, the patterns on the cards repeated, only the color of their backgrounds changing.
By the time he was finished, Ellyesce had made five rows. Four of the rows included sixteen cards each, while one of the rows, the cards that were purple in color, only contained four cards. The elf took a few minutes to explain the basics of the game to Jahrra, pointing out the different colors, symbols and constellations featured on each card and telling her the value of each one. The values changed depending on the color of the card and the symbol featured in the corners. Jahrra listened carefully, and after a few test runs practicing a few different versions of the game, Ellyesce invited her to try her hand without his help.
For the next handful of hours, Jahrra played Astral cards with Ellyesce. They went at a slow pace, the elf giving his human companion time to study each card in her hand; to decide its worth and its value compared to the others. For the first few rounds, Jahrra struggled, placing her cards in the wrong order against Ellyesce’s. Every now and then, they would switch the strategy of the game and before long Jahrra found she was able to keep up with less trouble than before.
When they both grew tired of the game, Ellyesce scooped up the cards and carefully tucked them back into their wooden box as if they were made of paper-thin glass.
Not for the first time, Jahrra wondered where he had gotten them, so she asked.
The elf grew suddenly still and slowly looked up at her. Jahrra hadn’t noticed before, but throughout the game, his customary hard, obdurate features had softened, the coldness in his eyes yielding to warmth. The lines around his mouth had disappeared, and his pale complexion had gained some color. But now, those lines and that ice was back. And some deep-imbedded instinct told Jahrra the Astral cards, and her question, had something to do with it.
Ellyesce relaxed his posture a little, then closed the lid to the box and gently tucked it into a pocket of his cloak.
“Astral cards can no longer be found in Ethoes, or they can’t easily be found,” he commented drily, his tone oddly detached.
So that explained why she had never seen or heard of them before.
“Why?”
The elf sighed and ran a hand through his long, dark hair. “Because of what they stand for.”
Jahrra leaned back against her boulder and considered him.
Ellyesce let out another breath and mimicked her. “Astral cards were invented by the Korli race of dragons, specifically to teach the human race about the stars and their importance. You see, Ethoes gifted her world with the stars so that no matter how dismal life became, we would always have some evidence of her guidance and inspiration. Furthermore, the stars and the constellations tell the stories and the history of our world. The cards became a very popular game shortly after their creation, but when the Crimson King rose to power in the east, he sought to destroy everything having to do with Ethoes. Except for the bloodrose, of course.”
Jahrra interrupted, repeating something she’d learned as a child. “The flower’s habit of sprouting over a battlefield holds great appeal to him.”
Ellyesce nodded. “Precisely. He views it as a symbol glorifying death and bloodshed.”
“But to Ethoes, the rose symbolizes that blood is the essence of life and that new beginnings can arise from sacrifice,” Jahrra put in.
Ellyesce smiled and tilted his head at her in agreement. Shortly after, he continued, “The cards remained popular after the fall of the Tanaan humans, but once the Tyrant learned of this, he had them destroyed. Not too many sets survived, and no one has bothered to create them once again. Perhaps, one day, they will make a comeback, when the Crimson King no longer threatens the people of Ethoes with his poisonous hatred.”
Jahrra shuddered. That only made her think of her purpose in this world and that wasn’t something she wanted to dwell upon at the moment. She cleared her throat.
“So, where did you get your cards then?”
Again, the elf hesitated, his entire demeanor retreating to some faraway place. The past, most likely, because his eyes grew so distant. Not for the first time, Jahrra wondered just how old Ellyesce was. Hundreds of years? Thousands? Had he been alive when the Crimson King rose to power? When human beings, her kind, had still existed in this world?
; When he finally spoke again, his voice was so quiet she almost missed his words.
“A dear friend gave me the cards,” he said. Ellyesce drew in a deep breath and released it. “Someone who was lost to me long ago.”
Now that was a rather depressing, and intriguing, thing to say. Before Jahrra could come up with an appropriate comment, or think of a way to ask the elf more without insulting or upsetting him further, Jaax stirred from his nap.
The dragon blinked inquisitively in their direction.
“So,” he asked after a great yawn. “How did the two of you keep yourselves occupied while I slept?”
Ellyesce turned, brightening a little. Gone was the melancholy elf and back was her cheerful card playing companion. The way he could switch from dismal to chipper in the blink of an eye was enough to make Jahrra dizzy. And suspicious. Anyone who was able to mask their emotions that quickly, and that drastically, wasn’t someone she would normally trust. Only because of her guardian’s faith in this elf did she even bother trying.
Someday, I’ll figure you out, and figure out why my subconscious insists I know you from somewhere, she told herself. Then, I can truly start trusting you for your own sake, and not my guardian’s.
“I’ve been teaching Jahrra how to play Astral cards,” Ellyesce said, answering Jaax’s question.
Did Jahrra imagine it, or had that been discontent flashing in her guardian’s eyes?
“Astral cards?” he asked, his tone wary. “Where on Ethoes did you find a set of Astral cards? They were outlawed and destroyed several hundred years ago.”
“This set was gifted to me before that time, and I have been careful to keep them safe.”
Jaax furrowed his brow and tilted his head, studying the elf the way he sometimes studied Jahrra when he suspected her of lying. Jahrra knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of that look, but she said nothing. Instead, she watched the two of them, the dragon clearly trying to enforce his will upon his friend, the elf taking it in stride.
Finally, Jaax drew in a breath and addressed Ellyesce in that strange language she had heard them use before. Although Jahrra had no idea what was being said, Jaax’s tone clearly expressed his irritation.
Ellyesce crossed his arms and replied, his own tone stubborn and harsh. Their argument lasted less than two minutes, all the while Jahrra stood glancing between them, wondering what on Ethoes had caused the sudden friction. Why was Jaax so peeved? It was just a card game. He couldn’t possibly be worried about anyone finding the cards on them. After all, if they were captured by the Crimson King’s men, a set of banned playing cards would be the least of their worries.
“Do as you will,” Jaax growled, speaking in the common tongue once again, “but think about what I said.”
Ellyesce gave a terse nod.
“Understood,” he replied, shortly before turning on his heel and heading back toward the horses.
“Is there a problem?” Jahrra asked her guardian.
Jaax regarded her with his silvery green eyes, a lingering hint of unease, as always, the most prominent emotion residing there. He let out a breath tinged with smoke, then pinched the space between his eyes with his scaly fingers.
“Nothing for you to be concerned about,” he murmured.
“Was it about the cards?”
Jaax shook his head and gave a wry grin. “Yes and no,” he replied.
Jahrra continued to stare at him, but his attempt at ignoring her was short lived.
“It’s not the cards themselves,” he eventually said, a slight growl to his tone, “but the history behind them.”
“A history you can’t share with me,” his ward deduced.
Jaax only lifted his eyebrows a fraction of an inch in response.
Irritation prickled at Jahrra’s nerves, but she brushed it aside. Instead, she said, “In the future, I’d appreciate you talking about such things elsewhere and not right in front of me. Even if you are using a language I can’t understand, it’s rude.”
Jahrra sniffed and headed over to check on Phrym. When she approached the horses, she noticed that Ellyesce had strung his longbow and removed the quiver from the pile of their traveling bags.
“I’m going out to hunt for game,” he said simply.
Although the snow seemed to have finally stopped falling, Jahrra very much doubted he would find anything wandering about. In fact, she imagined the only reason he was going out at all was to get some fresh air and perhaps some separation from her guardian. She was half tempted to ask to join him, but she of all people could tell when someone wished to spend some time alone.
Jahrra grabbed her journal from Phrym’s saddle bag and walked over to where Jaax was still reclining.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
Jahrra nodded, and her guardian proceeded to roll a log into their charred fire pit before breathing emerald flames over it.
Jahrra huddled in closer to the heat of the welcome flames and cracked open her journal. She flipped back to almost the beginning where she had drawn crude images of the constellations so long ago. The memory of sitting in the Castle Guard Ruin and listening to Hroombra tell her stories as she tried to get the stars aligned just right came back to her. Tears formed in her eyes, but she caught them quickly, willing them to disappear. Crying would do her no good now.
“I enjoyed learning about the Astral cards,” she murmured. “They reminded me of Hroombra.”
Jaax made a humming noise in his throat before saying, “Hroombra once had a set of Astral cards, long ago. They were sized for a dragon, and he used to play with me when I was younger.”
Jahrra sat absolutely still, her ears perking up. Jaax very rarely talked about his past. In fact, she couldn’t remember him talking about it at all.
“After lessons, he would always promise to play a round or two with me. In actuality, I think the only reason I ever paid attention or strived to do so well was for that one reward.”
“What was he like then?” Jahrra asked quietly. “I mean, when you were younger?”
Jaax furrowed his brow. “He had more energy, and he could still fly,” he answered wistfully.
This time Jahrra almost did cry. One of the reasons Hroombra had died was because he couldn’t escape from those who had attacked him. If he had been able to fly, he might still be with them today.
“But that is all I can think of. The one thing about Hroombramantu was that you could always count on his constancy. He was always fair, always patient, far more patient than anyone has a right to be. I used to grow so frustrated before we finally found you. Moving from one place to the next to examine a child some village claimed to be human. It never bothered Hroombra. He would always shrug and tell me that perhaps the next child would be the human girl we’d been waiting for.”
Jaax remained silent for a while, the sound of the crackling fire filling up the empty space.
“I’ve never been patient enough with you, Jahrra, and I am sorry for that.”
The comment was so sincere, and so unexpected, that Jahrra wondered if she’d imagined it. She blinked and looked up at her guardian. His eyes weren’t on her, but on the fire. Yet his awareness surrounded her, engulfing her like one of the gentle waves spreading out along Oescienne’s shoreline. Before she could come up with any sort of response, however, her guardian drew in a great breath and murmured, “There are times I wish you knew everything I did; times I wish I could tell you certain information. But I cannot. It wouldn’t be fair to you, to unload my burdens and troubles onto your shoulders. You have enough of your own worries to contend with.”
For a few short moments, Jahrra’s heart swelled, and she wanted to tell him that yes, he could share his troubles with her, but the idea was fleeting. What sorts of memories haunted Jaax’s past? She imagined they were great, and from his almost desperate tone, she figured they might haunt her dreams as well. As curious as she was, she decided to stick to what she had promised herself not too long ago.
He
will tell you what he needs to, she reminded herself. I will trust him despite the secrets that stretch between us, because he has proven himself more than worthy of my trust.
“You don’t have to share your worries with me to retain my support, Jaax. You know that,” she said instead.
Jaax only chuckled at that. “If Hroombra could see us now,” he said with a smile. “Getting along so well and understanding one another. He would be very proud.”
Jahrra smiled and ran her finger over the sketches she had drawn when just a small child.
“Yes, he would be, wouldn’t he?”
The sound of someone approaching the cavern entrance stole their attention then. Jaax growled low in his throat and began to rise, but when Ellyesce’s familiar face showed above the mound of snow, he relaxed.
“That was quick,” Jahrra commented.
Ellyesce smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.
“Looks like I wasn’t the only one who fancied a walk after the storm.”
He lifted his arm, a large mountain snow rabbit dangling from a rope in his hand.
“It won’t be enough for you, Jaax, but I thought Jahrra and I might enjoy some fresh meat for a change.”
“You needn’t worry about me,” Jaax answered, standing up and stretching as best he could in the cave. “I managed to take down a deer while scouting yesterday. I shouldn’t need to eat again until tomorrow.”
“Good,” Jahrra answered with relish. “I’m starving.”
* * *
By the time the moon rose over the horizon into a dark sky free of clouds, Jahrra was fast asleep. Jaax made sure of it before heading toward the cavern entrance where Ellyesce stood, watching the stars come out.
“She doesn’t ask too many questions, Jaax” Ellyesce said quietly, using that archaic language just to be safe.
The Ascending Page 4