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.”