“Jahrra Drisihn,” he answered, and was gone in one mighty thrust of his wings.
The air swirled about the Korli dragon and stirred a few leaves around on the ground. Hroombra watched as Jaax’s dragon shape became nothing more than an emerald blur against the sun-gilded sky. He inhaled a great breath and blew out a stream of smoke, then considered the squirming bundle below him.
“Jahrra, huh?” Hroombra’s old reptilian face smiled down at the young human one. “A new hope you are, a new hope you are indeed.”
Hroombra turned his weary gaze to the eccentric stone cabin that slumped at the end of the dusty road. He saw that Abdhe and Lynhi had quietly crept out of their home and were now standing calmly on the doorstep, remaining perfectly still as if petrified to move lest they provoke him to attack. A great smile cut across Hroombra’s furrowed face and the two figures relaxed a little.
Abdhe stood to the left of his wife. He was a tallish, worn looking Nesnan man, but not as tall as the humans Hroombra could barely remember. He wore faded gray pants that stopped at mid-calf, a dirty white shirt and a deep red, patched vest. His hair was gray and wiry and he had a weathered look about him. Lynhi, the woman who stood to his left, was a few inches shorter than him and wore a faded yellow skirt and a brown shirt. Her hair was ginger streaked with white and pulled loosely back into a braid.
How wonderfully ordinary they looked, Hroombra thought. He could almost feel their joy and anticipation, their fear and apprehension, their hopes and dreams for this vulnerable girl. It hung in the air like the night chill clung to the early morning, reluctant to release its grip. He had spoken to them about this undertaking many years ago, for he had always counted on them to care for the child when she was found, if she was found in their lifetime. He’d explained everything to them then and he trusted them beyond anyone else he knew in Oescienne.
The young Jahrra cried as Hroombra gently lifted her sling in his teeth and carried her towards the cottage. “Don’t worry small one,” he said rather awkwardly, trying not to let the sling fall, “he’ll be back to visit you, he hasn’t left you for good.”
This didn’t seem to comfort the baby, and it didn’t comfort Hroombra either. He hoped Jaax would keep his word, but he had known the Tanaan dragon his entire life and knew how unpredictable he could be during difficult times. He can’t help it, Hroombra mused, his life has been harder than most. The weathered old reptile sighed, a sigh that revealed his inner thoughts. Now I have another young one to worry about.
Although this day was no different than any other winter day, it felt new, clean and strangely calm. Hroombra didn’t know what the future held, even though his life experiences had given him some insight. All he knew was that Jahrra was safe for now and that it was his responsibility to look after her until her fate called.
Hroombra left little Jahrra with Abdhe and Lynhi that evening, knowing she was in good hands. They promised to raise her as their own, a poor Nesnan girl growing up in a quiet, sleepy land where the Crimson King’s deadly force hadn’t yet reached. They promised to send her to school with the other children of Oescienne and they promised to give Hroombra free rein over extra lessons with her. They promised to love her and care for her, to teach her some good in this cruel world. And they promised, as hard as it was for them to do so, to part with her when the time came for her to face her destiny.
These promises, along with all that had already happened, truly gave Hroombra something to look forward to. She would be safe here, and growing up as one of the Nesnan elves would keep her away from the curiosity of prying eyes. They looked enough like humans with their rounded ears and taller frame; Hroombra only hoped that Jahrra would look enough like them as well.
Yes, he thought with a heavy yet hopeful heart, this is where she’ll be most safe.
What Hroombra didn’t know, however, was that the arrival of this tiny, rather inconspicuous infant had already drawn someone’s attention, and as he greeted the happy new parents of the baby Jahrra, two glowing eyes were watching from the edge of the dark forest.
When Jaax descended upon the Sloping Hill earlier that afternoon, something strange and wild had stirred deep within the shadowed forest. The eyes of a peculiar being, eyes so much like an animal’s, opened ever so slightly to reveal a smoldering within. Its soul had been awakened, realizing that something familiar and something important had entered this part of Oescienne.
The creature lay absolutely still, contemplating the spirits of the two new life forms inside the boundaries of this province on the forgotten edge of the world. The larger essence was a familiar one; there was no doubt about it. But how do I know this soul? the being wondered. For years, maybe even centuries, the curious creature had lived in this feared forest, sensing the ebb and flow of the life around it, but never before had its core been stirred so violently.
The creature spent only a few more minutes trying to grasp some memory imbedded deep within, but with no luck. The younger spirit it now sensed, an infant, was different and new. Her life force was strong and enduring and there was something unusual about this one that differed from all of the others living in Oescienne.
Unable to discern who the young new comer was and unsure of whom the larger one might be, the creature rose from its lair deep within the Wreing Florenn. As quickly and quietly as possible it began following the source of the spirits the way a hound follows the scent of a deer.
Hurry, thought the creature guided only by its intuition, for the large one is fading and it will soon be gone. The being covered the ground rather smoothly, not making a sound against the dead, damp leaves stuck to the muddy forest floor. A rare smile crept across its face; a silent appreciation for the rain that had fallen a few days ago making the ground damp and quiet underfoot.
Finally the aura of the familiar, larger spirit grew stronger, and just as the creature peered around the last tree on the edge of the forest its gaze fell upon something shocking.
“Impossible!” it rasped, speaking aloud for the first time in many years.
The sound of the creature’s own voice startled it, forcing it behind the nearest tree for fear of being heard or seen. Finally, it braved exposure and peeked out across the small, fallow field and towards the front of a little stone cottage. The house was small and the bare trees in the orchard behind it blocked the view like a gray lattice screen.
Frustrated and irritated at the hindrance, the creature slinked northward seeking a better view of the two dragons standing in front of the house. The older dragon was easily recognizable. His presence in Oescienne had become as comfortable and familiar as an old scar. Oh yes, it was easy to spy on him from the forest, as long as one stayed as far away as possible to avoid detection.
The creature narrowed its eyes in perusal, now recognizing the younger dragon as the other presence it had felt. The being knew this dragon, knew him well. But where had he been since the last time . . . ? Never mind that, thought the creature bitterly, he’s here and he’s found something very important, very important indeed.
Just as the Tanaan dragon turned away for flight, the creature caught a glimpse of the powerful spirit it had sensed before. It looked like a Nesnan child, an infant, wrapped in a bundle of colorful cloth. The creature’s eyes glittered and crackled in slight confusion as a cold wave of disappointment poured over it. What could he possibly have a child for? And why does her life force feel so important?