The Finding

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  Jahrra appreciated Hroombra’s kindness, but she longed to work the dreams out on her own. What had they meant? She sighed deeply and shut her eyes, remembering how they started and how they’d progressed. At first, the dreams would wake her in a burst of terror and grief, but over the months following the tragedy, they began to change.

  The dream would always begin the same; a pleasant scene of Abdhe and Lynhi walking down a beach with her, swinging her from her arms between them. At first the blue sky was decorated with a few puffy, pale gray clouds being pushed along by a warm breeze. But soon the sky turned dark and those clouds became black and churned like thick smoke. A fierce wind would pick up and the air would turn cold.

  A great beast would emerge from the angry clouds, overwhelm them and pluck Lynhi and Abdhe from the beach. It was a horrible, demon-like monster larger than even Hroombra. It had great horns and a skull-like face and its horrible, bone-thin body was covered in what looked like rotten, burned leather stretched so tightly it appeared to be on the verge of tearing. It had great claws instead of hands and feet, and its massive tail wrapped around the cold, gray sand of the beach. When it moved, the pounding of its steps surpassed the sound of the whipping waves and the roiling sky, and its stench, akin to a week-old battlefield, was enough to make her collapse. It was the most horrible thing Jahrra had ever seen and it filled her with a dread that froze her blood and melted her nerves.

  As time passed and the nightmare became more familiar, Jahrra came to know at what point to expect the monster. She tried desperately to warn her parents early in the dream, but it was no use. They always stayed by her side, walking along as if it were a sunny, cheery day. No matter how much Jahrra pulled on them, the monster always came and took them.

  This carried on for several weeks, but one day her dream changed. Instead of waking up after her parents were taken, Jahrra would remain in the dark, crying. Just when she thought she would die of sorrow right there on the cold beach, a light would begin shining far off in the distance. At first, Jahrra woke up just as the light began to grow, but gradually the dream became longer and the light became brighter, transforming the stormy beach into a misty orchard.

  It only took Jahrra a minute the first time this happened to realize that this was her recurring dream of the misty woods and the hooded green figure. At first, the hooded man would only arrive after Abdhe and Lynhi were taken, but as time went on the man became a witness to the horrifying scene that played over and over in Jahrra’s dreams. It was as if her two dreams were growing closer to one another and overlapping.

  The hardest nights were the nights when the cloaked being would stand by and watch her nightmare unfold. He stood with his great arms crossed, like some horrible master watching in wicked approval as the monster swooped down for Abdhe and Lynhi. Jahrra would cry out desperately for him to help her, but no matter how much she cried and begged, he did not move and he would not help her. He only stood solemnly in the distance, his head covered and his face hidden in shadow, watching noiselessly and motionlessly as the wind whipped his cloak around like an emerald banner.

  After several recurring dreams of this horrible scene, Jahrra became angry with him. Why wouldn’t he help her parents? Why did he just look on like nothing was happening?

  As the weeks went on, this didn’t change. Her parents were always torn from her and the hooded figure always watched like a statue. Jahrra thought this torture would never end, but gradually, as gradually as the earth itself changes, she found herself looking to the hooded figure, finding comfort in his mere presence. It was then that she realized he could do nothing, for this wasn’t his dream, this wasn’t his sorrow, but hers. He was doing all he could just by being there on the edge of her nightmare.

  Soon, Jahrra no longer saw the monster as it took her parents away, and she no longer felt as mournful as she had before. This being, this person, whoever he was, had helped her get past the loss of her parents more than she could ever know. She no longer hated him, but looked to him as a beacon of comfort when the dreams came, and soon, sooner than she would have thought, she was no longer waking up in tears.

  The soft, mournful hooting of an owl reminded Jahrra that the day was over. She put her hands to her cheeks to wipe away her tears only to be surprised to find them warm and dry. She took a deep breath, shaking the remaining images of her dreams from her mind. It had done her some good to think about them, even if they had been terrifying at first. Her dreams had shown her the truth of her pain, of her sorrow, and that it was time for her to move on. Jahrra walked back to the Castle Guard Ruin in the twilight hoping that this coming year would pass with less pain and sadness. Somehow, she knew that it would.

  ***

  Spring was a whirlwind of activity with Jahrra much improved from last year, despite her winter-time gloominess. It was almost as if she had been a dormant tree, bursting into life once the weather warmed. She was much more animated, actually smiling and laughing at least once a day. She even lashed out at the twins’ rude comments every now and again, something she hadn’t done since numbly joining the class once again in the fall.

  Summer took an eternity to arrive, as always, and all because Kaihmen and Nuhra promised to help Jahrra saddle-train Phrym at school’s end. Her best friends were already riding their own horses, Bhun, a chocolate gelding for Scede and Aimhe, a palomino mare for Gieaun. Jahrra was in a constant pout about this until Kaihmen informed her that Phrym had finally grown big enough to start riding.

  “You have to go easy on him. He’s still very much a foal,” Kaihmen told Jahrra the first time she got in the saddle with Phrym.

  At first, he reacted as any horse would; uncomfortable and edgy with an extra weight on his back. Once he realized it was Jahrra, however, he calmed down and became quite agreeable. Kaihmen had been nervous about Jahrra being the first to ride Phrym; he was so strong and so tall. And if she fell off . . . But he really didn’t need to worry at all.

  “Well, would you look at that! It must be a new record,” Nuhra said, as Jahrra went tearing across the fields atop Phrym after only a few minutes of sitting on his back.

  The Resai woman had been thrown so many times by new horses that she was almost jealous of Jahrra’s success, but in truth, she was beyond pleased for the young girl.

  Now that Phrym was suitable for riding, Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede spent the better part of the summer fixing up the old stable on the grounds of the Castle Guard Ruin. Phrym wouldn’t be visiting here, like she had once thought when she first got him, he would be living here. Jahrra quickly dashed the memory away, fearing it would bring on tears, tears that wouldn’t bring back her past life. Instead, she distracted herself with work.

  “Just think!” she said as she dragged the old rotting wood out of the stable bed with Gieaun and Scede, “We’ll all be able to ride to school in the fall!”

  On the summer weekends, Kaihmen and Nuhra took the children to the lakes to go fishing. They would swim on the warm afternoons and catch frogs and insects, build forts on the shores and just catch up on the things that had happened that week. Many of the local youngsters came to the lake as well, but they were all either much younger or much older than Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede, and more often than not, they were here to work, not play.

  Jahrra watched in slight pity as the youngest would help their mothers gather reeds or freshwater shellfish along the muddy banks. The older boys helped their fathers and uncles haul bulging nets of slippery fish out of the water and the older girls would clean the catch the men brought in.

  Once their work was through, the young children were permitted to play, kicking around a ball constructed of tightly wound strips of hide. Jahrra always smiled her best when she saw the looks of joy on the children’s faces as they went careening down the boardwalk after the lopsided ball, laughing and shrieking in fun.

  Sometimes she would join them with Gieaun and Scede, but today they were busy floating on rafts across the cool lake surface. Jahrra took a l
ong, deep breath and let it out slowly. The raft she was floating on had drifted towards the middle of the lake, but she hadn’t noticed.

  “Jahrra!” Gieaun’s voice invaded her calm mind. “The lake monster will get you!”

  Jahrra closed her eyes and smiled, having half a mind to pretend to get pulled under by the mysterious beast. She rolled over onto her stomach and began paddling back towards the boardwalk where Gieaun and Scede were lying upon their own homemade rafts.

  “Gieaun! Will you ever give it up? There is no lake monster!” Jahrra proclaimed once she’d reached them.

  “Sure there isn’t,” Scede teased, his impish grin matching her own.

  The three friends enjoyed the rest of the afternoon along the banks of the lake searching for frogs and turtles before finally making the journey home. The summer had flown by as usual, but Jahrra had enjoyed it more than any summer she could remember. School would be starting again soon and she cringed at the thought. Oh well, she sighed inwardly, I’ll just have to make the best of it.

  The twins weren’t at school on the first day back, and Jahrra almost burst with happiness at the idea that they might not be coming back at all. The very next day, however, they showed up in one of their fancy carriages, going on and on about how they got delayed on a vacation to some castle in the north.

  Jahrra was bitterly disappointed, but she wasn’t going to let it get her down, not this year. The summer had revived her in a way and her renewed spirit inspired her to create a garden outside her bedroom window in that tiny enclosed space that was once another room. She’d spent so many lonely afternoons staring out her window that she felt she needed to do something to the sad, empty space.

  “This is for Nida and Pada,” she told Hroombra one early fall day when he finally abandoned his studies to see what the young girl was up to. “I want to grow things like they did.”

  The old dragon watched thoughtfully as Jahrra toted an armful of various plants and bulbs towards the western edge of the Ruin. He smiled broadly; Jahrra was back, the spirited little girl who loved life so much had returned. He didn’t know what had brought her back, but he was grateful nonetheless.

  Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede spent most of that fall gathering seeds to plant in the garden. Hroombra didn’t mind that the Castle Guard Ruin was becoming a pile of earth and plant debris, he was just happy that Jahrra had found something to occupy her mind. She’s finally healing, he reminded himself as he listened to the chatting children through the window of his study.

  Of course, Jahrra had come to terms with her sorrow the winter before, through her dreams, despite the fact that they had begun as nightmares. The soothing passage of time had worked out the rest for her.

  “It’s not that I’ve stopped missing them,” she said to Hroombra one fine winter day as she lay next to a blazing fire in the Castle Guard Ruin. “It’s just that I’ve grown used to them not being here.”

  Hroombra looked up from his work and glanced at the girl who was drawing by the firelight. He smiled a sad smile, one that portrayed his understanding of the rushed wisdom of one so young. That’s it then, he told himself, she’s no longer an innocent child. She’s begun the slow passage into adulthood, and although her child’s years will linger yet, she’ll never be quite the same again.

  The winter season caught everyone unawares with an early, but mildly dangerous frost. During those early winter days the fields became dusted with a fine crystal-white powder that sparkled and held the land hostage in its icy breath.

  Most mornings Jahrra would rise early to check on Phrym in his new stable. She would dress in many layers and cross the gently sloping field that stretched beyond the Castle Guard Ruin. The ground always crunched delightedly beneath her boots as she pulled her wool jacket tight around her, puffing clouds of steam as she made her way towards the stables. Phrym was always waiting for her, no matter how quietly she approached, and the two would go out riding, allowing the icy air to numb their senses.

  As the second anniversary of her parents’ deaths approached, Jahrra, despite her resilience and recent happiness, found herself once again burdened by a heavy and dull sorrow. Hroombra kept an especially close eye on her and asked that Gieaun and Scede watch her at school. He knew that even the smallest remark from hostile spectators could lead to trouble, and he wanted to make sure that her road to recovery continued to be a smooth one.

  The winter passed, agonizingly slow, but Jahrra got through it with much less trouble than Hroombra had anticipated. At school, the twins had been too preoccupied with Solsticetide and telling everyone about the extravagant presents they were hoping to get that they’d almost forgotten about their favorite victim. Only when Jahrra stood idly around the schoolyard did they bother to antagonize her, but that almost never happened.

  Solsticetide and Jahrra’s tenth birthday passed, but the celebrations were empty and cold without her parents. As spring approached, however, Jahrra became distracted by her new garden. The seeds and bulbs were coming to life, and the lazy flowers were awakening to the warm spring days. The garden out-shown the surrounding wildflowers of the field, and soon the small pond she and her friends had dug was teaming with frogs and dragonflies, birds and butterflies. She had even transplanted a small sapling that was now showing brilliant pink blossoms. It was like her own personal oasis and she tended to it every day after school with Gieaun and Scede.

  Hroombra often listened to the children chattering away amongst the flowers as he sat at his great desk in the Castle Guard Ruin. He found himself listening to the young laughter that drifted through the window behind him like one would listen to an orchestra. Against his better judgment, the great dragon allowed his mind to float away with the fragrant breezes and happy conversation, bringing him to a place long lost in time.

  He found himself in another age, when this Castle Guard Ruin was not a ruin at all, but a proud building that kept a lookout for the great castle on the edge of the Sloping Hill. He heard the ghostly echo of innocent laughter of the children from the past. His heart froze and his blood became ice water when he saw the young prince and the beautiful queen. His heart seemed to melt and seep through his veins as liquid sadness, a sadness that flooded his cheerful reverie . . .

  “Gieaun! Scede! Come and look at this butterfly!!! I think these are the caterpillars that belong to it!”

  The sudden rise in voices broke up Hroombra’s dismal thoughts. He breathed a great sigh of relief, grateful to escape the world he had entered. It had been a place of darker times and he didn’t want to think about such things, at least, not right now.

  “Whoa!!”

  Scede’s reaction to Jahrra’s find caused Hroombra to chuckle to himself. I think I’ll rest now while they’re busy being distracted outdoors . . . the old dragon thought to himself. He curled his neck and tail around his enormous desk and rested his head upon the worn stone floor. I think it’s time that Jahrra know a little more about the past, but it can wait until after my nap. He soon dozed off, promising himself he’d save the painful memories for later.

  -

  Chapter Ten -

  The Castle Ruin

  Hroombra had been awake from his nap for quite some time now, but his mind was still focused on the images of the past. He took a deep, weary breath and released it with a tinge of smoke. He needed to find Jahrra and the silence outside made him wonder if she had taken Phrym to Wood’s End Ranch, but he rose from the stone floor anyway. Perhaps the children had just walked up to the stables. It is time, he reminded himself with a slight shiver as he stepped out into bright daylight. It’s time for her to begin to know . . .

  He checked the garden first, and to his delight he found the young girl there. She was lying on the stone flagging of her tiny paradise, watching dragonflies skitter across the surface of the pond. He smiled warmly then brushed aside the last dregs of his reticence, “Jahrra, come over here please.”

  Jahrra turned her head lazily and looked up at her guardian, his massiv
e reptilian face gazing down at her over the garden wall. She smiled as she gazed up at him quizzically. Hroombra often left her alone when she was outside, so she wondered if anything was wrong. Her mentor’s tone of voice had been casual, but it had a lingering note to it which held a hundred possible emotions.

  “What is it?” she asked without moving.

  “You shall see, but if you’re thinking about staying right where you are, you’ll be severely disappointed.”

  Now his voice held mischief, and Jahrra knew that he was up to something, something mysterious. She jumped up enthusiastically from where she lay and easily cleared the wall.

  “Where have Gieaun and Scede gone so early?” Hroombra asked curiously, his great brow creased in scrutiny. “It’s only a few hours past midday.”

  “They had to go home for riding lessons. I would’ve gone too, but I wanted to sit in my garden,” Jahrra answered matter-of-factly, picking at a daisy growing as high as her garden wall. “I told them I might come over later.”

  “You little ones, I just can’t seem to keep up with you these days.” The great dragon shook his head in humor.

  “So, where’re we going? Should I get Phrym?” Jahrra asked, becoming curious in this sudden venture.

  “Oh no, it’s just a little over three miles. Let’s make it a good walk, shall we?”

  “Alright, which way?”

  Jahrra had been lying still for so long that she gratefully welcomed a long walk.

  “Head north, along the path leading through the woods,” Hroombra said, and then called as she bolted off, “Not too fast! I don’t move as quickly as you do!”

  Jahrra stopped running and instead began dashing back and forth from one side of the path to the other, searching for more plants she might like to add to her garden. She’d been in these woods before, but no deeper than a few hundred yards. The Wreing Florenn began somewhere behind them and she didn’t want to end up in there. After only a few minutes she became bored with her hunt and noticed that they were following what appeared to be a wide, overgrown path.