Tales of Oescienne - A Short Story Collection - Volume One

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  Not really my memory at all, she mused.

  A few years ago, she had tried to enter another person’s dream without their permission. Such an action wasn’t wholly unheard of, but it was considered a breach of etiquette in her line of business. She snorted at the thought. When she wanted information, she wasn’t afraid to exercise all options, moral or immoral. And I wanted to know your innermost thoughts . . .

  Denaeh smiled bitterly as she remembered. “But I still didn’t learn what I wished to learn, now did I?” She placed her chin in her hand and stared at the fire as the wonderful aroma of roasting meat and mushrooms filled the air.

  She added a log to the fire and watched as the sparks leapt to the sky. She had been after the identity of someone in the other person’s dream; a figure who had visited the dreamer often. He always wore a green cloak, similar to her red one and he never spoke with the child he visited. There was a name for such recurring visitors to dreams: titles for what they symbolized. Soul Guardian, Dream Walker, Spirit Protector . . .

  An old mantra danced through her mind then, one she had learned a very long time ago: Soul Guardians represent someone known but not seen. She couldn’t remember exactly where she had heard it, but she had heard it often enough, repeated by those she knew and those who practiced magic, to have remembered it, even now after such people had long since disappeared from the world. She couldn’t say if she truly believed it. It didn’t make sense; someone known but not seen? It was just another riddle trying to explain a quandary.

  But perhaps that was the point, she thought quietly, like not appreciating someone in your life until they are gone.

  The Mystic shivered and instinctively reached for the spirit stone ring, but a well of bitter sadness bubbled up in her chest when she recalled that the ring was gone. She dashed a few tears from her eyes and took a heavy breath.

  “Perhaps trying to think of other things was a bad idea after all Milihn.”

  The korehv, busy digging around in the leaf litter looking for grubs, paused long enough to grumble at his master and give her a quick look.

  She grinned, despite her melancholy. It was a good thing she had Milihn, for making this journey alone would have been unbearable. Especially after all I have learned.

  The sun still hadn’t set by the time her dinner was done, but Denaeh was happy to call it an early night. Milihn finished off what she didn’t eat; carrying the carcass off to the other side of the trail so any wild animals that might be drawn to it wouldn’t find the campsite. Denaeh added a few more logs to the fire and bundled up in her now, mostly dry, cloak.

  The sky was just growing dark when she was finally settled down. The familiar flap of wings greeted her and she turned her head to see Milihn perched just above her.

  He stretched his wings and grumbled. Denaeh opened her eyes fully. She knew that sound.

  “You want to go exploring? This late?”

  The korehv repeated the sound and Denaeh sighed. “Very well, but don’t wander too far and don’t get caught away from the camp after dark. I expect you to stand guard tonight after your failure this morning.”

  Milihn grumbled his acquiescence and took off without a second glance.

  “Odd bird. I’ve raised you from an egg and I still can’t figure out how your mind works, even when I’m reading it.”

  Denaeh sighed, pushed away all of the ghosts that wished to torment her, and slowly fell into a dreamless sleep.

  * * *

  Denaeh came slowly awake the next morning, the rhythm of the pounding waves far below encouraging her to rise from her sleep. A bitter chill nipped at the air, the last remnants of the winter. The Mystic was reluctant to rise, for she felt warm under her cloak and the fire had burned out overnight. The few coals that did remain smoked like a sleeping dragon, reminding her of her need to get to the province of Felldreim as soon as possible.

  Sighing deeply, Denaeh sat up and let her cloak fall away. She stretched and took a few moments to let her mind brush the furthest edges of the forest. Only small creatures stirring at this hour. She released a breath of relief, only to start at the pain that escaped with it. The soldiers were gone, and the spirit stone ring with them.

  Denaeh got the fire going once again and managed to heat up some oatmeal in a small copper cup she’d pulled out from the folds of her cloak. Where is Milihn this morning? she wondered. She hadn’t heard him return last night and she had seen neither hide nor feather of him all morning. Usually he was up before her, pestering her for food or a scratch on the neck.

  Just as she was beginning to worry, a flurry of dark feathers and a low caw greeted her as the wayward bird flew into camp.

  “There you are! Have you been out all night?” The Mystic brushed the edge of his mind but didn’t get an answer.

  She stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Where did you go last evening?” she asked him, her young face smooth and serious.

  He cawed and flicked his wings, as if asking for forgiveness. It was then that she saw something hanging from his mouth. Was it a piece of long hair? Twine?

  Furrowing her brow, Denaeh moved closer, only to press her hands against her mouth to hide a gasp as her topaz eyes grew wide.

  “Milihn!” she cried, rushing over to him.

  Carefully, she drew the item towards her. It was a long leather strap, knotted into a loop, and dangling at the bottom was . . .

  “The spirit stone ring,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

  Milihn grumbled smugly, his version of saying you’re welcome. He released his prize and watched with a glossy eye as his master settled the loop over her head and tucked the ring safely beneath her layers of clothing so that it could once again rest against her heart.

  She turned to the korehv, her eyes still full of tears and said, “Thank you, my friend.”

  Milihn simply ruffled his feathers, then shook, pleased at doing a good job.

  “Well,” Denaeh breathed, “if you stole this back, then they will eventually miss it.”

  She turned a wary eye on her bird. “Though I can count on you being very stealthy, I can’t count on them dismissing the loss as a mere misplacement along the road. So, we had best get moving as soon as possible. The last thing we want is Cierryon’s men after us.”

  Denaeh shuddered and quickly got to work dousing the fire and gathering her few belongings. As she got ready for traveling once again, Milihn helped himself to her leftover oatmeal.

  Donning her cloak and deciding on traveling as an old woman for the time being, Denaeh stood up and called out to her friend. The dark bird gave an answering call as he picked his way through the canopy, acting as lookout as they traveled. The Mystic ambled along at a brisk pace, one hand clutching her walking stick, the other pressed against her heart where the spirit stone ring rested once more.

  “Perhaps you did have enough magic in you to return to me after all,” she whispered to the ring, wishing in her heart it was the ring’s original owner that she spoke to.

  A glow of joy, tiny but significant for its mere presence, spread throughout her spirit. The ring wouldn’t heal her completely, but it would help. Facing the road and setting her sights on the future, Denaeh smiled brightly for the first time in what felt like ages.

  Fire and Ice

  Part One

  The dragon Raejaaxorix reclined casually in his study, peering through the window that looked down over the city of Lidien. The morning was still very young and he knew he wouldn’t be needed at Emehriel Hall for at least three more hours. For now, he would just enjoy the peace and quiet for once. He and a few of his fellow dragon friends had just returned from a long campaign in which they were required to spend countless hours in the air while checking the boundaries of Oescienne for trouble. They had not detected any enemies, so Jaax had given everyone some time off to rest before they began the same routine again.

  Jaax sighed, the air around him heating up with the fire that smoldered within him. It was a ted
ious job, guarding the young girl Jahrra from a distance, but it had to be done. Luckily, none of his companions ever complained, well, almost none of them. Jaax quirked a knowing grin at a faded memory: Shiroxx, a Tanaan dragon like him, constantly asking why they had to scour the fringes of Oescienne, hoping to spot danger when it would be so much easier just to bring the child to Lidien where the Coalition could watch her from their door steps.

  Oh Shiroxx, Jaax thought now, you just don’t understand. He glanced out of his window once more as the rising sun transformed Lidien from a pale chalk color to the pinks and golds of the rose granite that had been used to construct most of its buildings. Lidien is such a large, busy place, Jahrra would have surely become lost here.

  The girl was in the care of his dear friend and old mentor Hroombramantu, a Korli dragon who had survived many a turmoil and several decades in Ethoes. Hroombra, the founder of the Coalition for Ethoes, an elite group of dragons, elves and other beings intent on returning the world to its former, peaceful self, had established Jaax as the group’s leader several years ago and now lived quietly in the south of Oescienne. And with him lived Jahrra.

  Jaax took another deep breath and considered the paperwork on his desk. Many of the letters were from Hroombra, informing him of Jahrra’s progress. He smiled fully when the old dragon described how much the girl loved her semequin, Phrym, and how the young horse was helping her through a recent and painful loss.

  Before the dragon could let his mind dwell on the current tragedy in Jahrra’s life, a soft but assertive knock came from his study door.

  “Master Jaax?” a feminine voice called out.

  Jaax took a breath, pushed the letters aside and said, “Come in, Neira.”

  A Nesnan woman, not quite middle aged, with brown hair and a calmness to her demeanor, pushed the great wooden door open and stood just inside the study. She clutched what appeared to be a sealed document in her hands and she had a look of worry on her face.

  “What is it?” Jaax asked his house maid, his attention now fully on her.

  “This was just delivered from a courier. He said it was for the head of the Coalition in Lidien.” She swallowed and took a breath. “He said it was urgent.”

  Jaax rose and crossed the room, his great tail sweeping behind him and his wings tucked snuggly against his back.

  “Thank you, Neira,” he said succinctly, taking the rather large missive she offered him in one clawed hand.

  Neira nodded and left the room to get back to her own work. Jaax severely hoped that she was making a big pot of strong tea, for he suspected he would need it. He moved back behind the desk and sat down once again, cracking the scarlet wax seal with one claw. His emerald eyes darted across the paper, his heart sinking with every word. When he was finished, he raised his head and stared at the far door for a moment, then turned his eyes on the huge map that took up most of one wall. It was one of the most detailed maps of Ethoes in the province of Felldreim, and he had paid the artist well to paint it upon his wall.

  He scanned the province of Oescienne, its northern border just south of Felldreim. He noted Lidien on the map, resting near the coast and perched above the mouth of the great Saem River. From there he let his eyes wander northeast across the Great Hrunahn Mountains, over the Hrwyndess River and across the great channel that separated the island province of Yddian from the rest of Ethoes. There, on the southern tip of the island and nestled in the foothills of the Krehken Mountains, lay the city of Ahseina, a relatively small community that made its livelihood mostly by raising sheep for wool and fishing when the sea wasn’t rough.

  Jaax closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath through his nostrils. A small, unthreatening community with a very big problem. Jaax returned to his desk and scanned the letter again. It was from the town’s patron, a wealthy landlord who collected taxes and protected the people when they were troubled by wild creatures or outsiders who wished to cause harm. But he couldn’t protect them from this newest threat: a dragon. And not just any dragon, a Morli dragon.

  Jaax forced his deep breath back through his nose, singing the air with hot smoke in the process. One of the Crimson King’s war beasts had broken loose, so it would seem, and had crossed the channel seeking its freedom. Jaax had no doubt that the plentiful herds of sheep dotting the hillsides of southern Yddian tempted the beast, but it wasn’t the citizens of Ahseina’s fault that their way of life was so appealing to the monster.

  Yes, Jaax thought with angry bitterness, dragon or not, you are a monster. The Morli weren’t like the other dragons of Ethoes. They had been specially selected and developed by the Tyrant using dark magic and the cruel enslavement of existing dragons. The Morli were mindless, vicious monsters that knew one purpose and one purpose only: to destroy anyone and anything that opposed the rule of the Crimson King, the tyrant of the east.

  Jaax’s earlier relief at not discovering the Tyrant King’s men sniffing around the borders of Oescienne disappeared in a snap. He would have to do something about this renegade dragon, and he would need to do something fast before Ahseina was destroyed and the monster turned its wrathful gaze upon another city.

  * * *

  Essyel Auditorium was alive with the rumble of over a hundred voices, male and female alike, as the various members of the Coalition of Ethoes argued amongst themselves over the news their leader had just shared with them.

  Jaax pinched the bridge of his very long snout and half closed his eyes. He was getting a headache and Neira’s famous tea had not been strong enough to ease his nerves completely. Shortly after reading the letter from Yddian and mulling it over for several minutes, he had called his house maid back to have a message delivered to all the members of the Coalition currently present in the city. They were to meet immediately, earlier than their usual time, to discuss a matter of great importance. That had been an hour or so ago, and as soon as Jaax had read the letter aloud to the entire hall, the arguing had broken out.

  “This is getting us nowhere,” Dathian commented next to him. He had to shout to be heard.

  Jaax forgot the irritating headache and eyed the young elfin prince. He had arrived only a few short months ago, the youngest son of a royal line in Dhonoara who wished to become a scholar and not a monarch. The Tanaan dragon had liked him right away, what with his careful ways and quiet, but friendly demeanor. Dathian’s father had allowed him to reside in Lidien in order to study, but if and only if he agreed to represent his royal family in the Coalition for Ethoes.

  “You are right,” Jaax answered. He cleared his throat and let out a burst of blue-green flame to get the hall’s attention. He tried not to grin when everyone stopped dead in their conversations, eyes blinking wildly at the pyrotechnic display.

  “Let’s approach this issue in a more orderly fashion,” Jaax said.

  Someone towards the top of the room stood and called out, “Lord Jaax! Shouldn’t we consider the possibility that this dragon has been sent by the Crimson King as a preemptive strike against his enemies?”

  Oh blessed Ethoes, please no . . . Jaax thought as his stomach twisted.

  The light murmur almost grew to an intolerable level again, but Jaax raised a great hand and said, “I can’t say that that isn’t a possibility, but since the message claimed it was only one dragon that has been attacking the town, I remain optimistic.”

  “How can you remain optimistic when one of the Tyrant’s battle dragons is wreaking havoc upon innocents?”

  The question, coming from a Resai man somewhere in the center of the auditorium, was greeted with shouts of compliance.

  Jaax sighed again and answered before the room could become lost in argument once more, “I am not insinuating that this situation isn’t serious, and something must be done to stop the attacks.”

  He cast his gaze up the rows of chairs, towards the back of the room, and caught the eyes of a familiar red Tanaan dragon. Shiroxx stood quietly, Sapheramin and Tollorias, two Korli dragons, on either side of her. Th
e two Korli were on leave from their duties to the Creecemind king in Nimbronia, but would need to be returning there soon. The three of them were the only other dragons in Lidien at the time, and Jaax was going to ask them an enormous favor. He grimaced, but it was the only way.

  Taking a steadying breath, he said loud enough for all to hear, “Sapheramin, Tollorias, Shiroxx,” he looked at them each in turn, “I have a plan, but I’m going to need your help.”

  They already knew what he was thinking, for the two Korli adopted grim looks on their faces, whereas Shiroxx’s eyes seemed to glint with excitement.

  Jaax felt his mouth twitch with a half grin. Yes, you do love a good fight Shiroxx, he mused.

  “So what is this plan?” a woman dressed in an opulent dress called out.

  Raejaaxorix waited for the murmuring to cease. Then casting one more glance at his fellow dragons and arching an eyebrow at the young elfin prince next to him, he cleared his throat. “I propose that my three dragon companions and I fly to Ahseina and destroy the Morli threat. Immediately.”

  * * *

  Early the next morning Jaax and his three dragon companions left Lidien, flying northeast towards the island province of Yddian. He led the quartet while Tollorias loomed like a large, dark grey thunderhead just beyond his left shoulder. Sapheramin, her pale cobalt scales matching the cloudy sky, situated herself somewhere behind him and to his right. Shiroxx was nothing more than a red blot trailing far behind them, watching their backs.

  They made it as far as the eastern edge of the Great Hrunahn Mountains late into the next evening, making camp on a high mountain ledge as a storm threatened overhead.

  “It looks like it’s heading east,” Sapheramin noted balefully.

  Jaax nodded soberly. It seemed the tumultuous weather would follow them on their journey.

  By the next morning the clouds had thickened, but they were not yet ready to release the rain they carried. The four dragons pressed on, cutting over the Hrwyndess River and the beautiful countryside of eastern Felldreim. They camped earlier the next evening, on the rugged coast of southern Rhohwynd.