“Do not worry,” Sapheramin said, startling Jahrra a little, “you will become accustomed to the king’s manner.”
Jahrra blinked up at the Korli dragon, and for a split second, she saw Hroombra instead of Sapheramin. The moment passed, but Jahrra felt a small lump growing in her throat, nonetheless.
“Forgive me,” Sapheramin said gently. “I never offered formal introductions. I am Sapheramin, and this is Tollorias.”
She indicated the soot-colored dragon to her right, and he paused in his conversation with another Tanaan dragon to acknowledge Jahrra with a curt nod of his head.
“Pleased to officially meet you, Jahrra,” he rumbled.
Jahrra had just enough time to offer him a weak smile before he returned his focus to his previous discussion.
Sapheramin rolled her eyes and smiled. “Don’t mind him. He takes life far too seriously.”
Some of the tension drained from Jahrra’s body then, and she started breathing evenly once more. There was something about this female dragon that put her instantly at ease. Perhaps it was her joyful aura, or the abundance of kindness in her manner. Or maybe it was just because she reminded her so much of her old Korli mentor.
Jahrra’s thoughts must have been plain on her face, because Sapheramin said, “I am not sure if Jaax told you, but Hroombramantu was my uncle.”
Jahrra, suddenly realizing she hadn’t said a single thing to Sapheramin since their conversation started, snapped out of her odd trance and cleared her throat. “Yes, he did tell me. I am so sorry for your loss.”
Sapheramin furrowed her brow and nodded slowly. “And I for yours. I was very fond of my uncle, but I feel that perhaps you knew him more than I did. Or rather, he played a more significant role in your life.”
“He did,” she admitted, the tiny speck of sadness she always carried around for her old guardian pricking a little at her heart. “I still miss him terribly.”
Sapheramin gave a sad smile, then shut her eyes and shook her head slightly.
“Now, enough of that. Let us enjoy our first course, and then we can talk some more.”
Jahrra couldn’t argue with that, so she gave Sapheramin a reassuring grin and turned back to what she thought was a dinner salad. She was pretty sure the bluish-green leaves and violet-hued florets were vegetables, but she had yet to taste them. A quick glance to her left told her Dervit had already cleaned his plate and was well on his way to making new friends. He and Ellyesce were chatting freely with the two elves seated directly across from them, even though they were separated by several feet of table space. When Jahrra leaned a little more forward, she noticed Jaax speaking with a group of Tanaan dragons and Resai elves farther down the table.
“How are you liking Nimbronia so far?” Sapheramin asked.
Realizing she wasn’t being the most engaging dinner partner, and that maybe she should make more of an effort, Jahrra glanced back up at Sapheramin and said, “It is a beautiful city, and I still can’t believe how easy it is to breathe in the thin air, and that I didn’t freeze instantly when we stepped outside earlier this morning.”
Sapheramin laughed. “The magic of this place works wonders in keeping the city itself frozen, but not its citizens.”
“Ellyesce told me about the magic allowing us to breathe at this altitude. Jaax and I went flying this morning, and he showed me the city and the Sacred Pine as well.”
“Ah, yes,” Sapheramin crooned. “The Pine is one of Nimbronia’s most prized features. People travel from all over the world to see it, though no one has ever walked the staircase to the top. Far too dangerous, and only the Oracles have any purpose in going up there.”
“Do they often visit? The Oracles I mean,” Jahrra asked excitedly, eyeing the new course being brought around. It looked like soup, but once again, she couldn’t say for sure. Only when a finely-dressed servant placed a spoon next to her bowl was she certain.
“No,” Sapheramin said, wrapping her scaled fingers around the much larger bowl set before her. A fraction of her joy ebbed, and Jahrra felt compelled to look up at her. “Most of the Oracles were destroyed by Cierryon, and no one knows for sure how many are left, or where they might be hiding.”
She lifted the bowl to her mouth and drank the soup as if it were a mug of ale. When she was finished, she set it back down and then picked up one of the overly large napkins to dab at the soup that stained the corner of her mouth. Jahrra found the action very comical; a dragon with refined table manners, but managed to keep her composure. Instead, she tasted a spoonful of soup, relishing the unique but delicious flavor, before trying another question.
“What about Mystics? Can they visit the tree?”
Sapheramin regarded Jahrra closely, her brows furrowed and her eyes searching for something.
“Maybe,” she said eventually, “but I’ve not heard of such a thing happening. Why do you ask?”
Jahrra shrugged and turned back to her soup. She did not want to explain that she knew a Mystic who might be willing to consult Ethoes, if she had the chance. Instead, she decided to change the subject.
“So, since Hroombra was your uncle, did you grow up with Jaax?”
Jahrra tried, and failed, to imagine Jaax as a dragonling.
To her surprise, the Korli dragon laughed out loud. “Oh, no. Not at all. I grew up with my parents and siblings here in the province of Felldreim. Hroombra would visit us from time to time, but I didn’t even meet Jaax until he first joined the Coalition. By then, he was a young adult.”
A pang of disappointment pricked at Jahrra. She was hoping to hear more about her guardian from someone who might actually be willing to tell her.
“That’s too bad,” she grumped, hoping she didn’t sound too disappointed. “I thought maybe you could tell me some embarrassing stories or something like that.”
Sapheramin screwed up her face and tilted her head to the side. “Well, I don’t know any embarrassing stories, but I do know how Hroombra came to be Jaax’s guardian.”
Jahrra, who had just scooped up another spoonful of soup, froze and lowered it back to the bowl. She quickly darted her eyes down the table to make sure Jaax was still distracted by the other dinner guests. When she saw that he was, and that Ellyesce and Dervit had joined in with his conversation, she glanced back at Sapheramin with wide eyes.
Nodding, she said, “Yes. Yes, I’d love to hear that story. Neither Jaax nor Hroombra ever told me.”
Sapheramin gave her a horrified look. “You must be joking! To have both those dragons as your guardians, and to have never heard the story? An outrage!”
She snorted, and two tendrils of smoke left her nostrils. Despite the dramatics, Jahrra could tell Sapheramin was only teasing.
“Now, let’s see if I can remember the details . . . Hroombra told this story to me years ago, so hopefully, I won’t forget anything. Ah, yes, it was after he settled in Oescienne. He had known about the prophecy for years and realized that when you eventually came into the world, you would be discovered somewhere in the west. Besides, the province of Oescienne has its own history with regards to Cierryon and the lost human race, but that is an entirely different story.”
She flapped her hand around as if to bat away her words, then continued on, “One day, Hroombra received word from the dwarves living in the mountains east of Doribas. They had found a nest of dragon eggs which had clearly been raided. The eggshells had all been crushed, the parents, Tanaan dragons from what they could tell, had been killed and left for the scavengers to pick clean.”
Sapheramin paused, a subtle sadness invading her tone. Jahrra couldn’t blame her. She felt it, too. She also began to speculate where this story was heading, and her heart grew heavier for it. The Korli dragon took a deep breath and let it out through her nose, without the smoke this time.