Once she could see properly, Jahrra decided to examine the desk first. It had a spacious top, several drawers and a chair to match. Two narrow bookshelves stood on either end of the desk while another ran horizontally to rest on top of the other two. A map drawn out on paper or animal hide was tacked to the wall in the space between the shelves. Jahrra felt her eyes prick a little when she realized it was a detailed drawing of Oescienne. She turned in the chair she had unknowingly sat upon and looked back at the tapestries of Felldreim and Ethoes on the opposite wall. That is when she noticed there were others.
She stood, taking her candle with her and wandered about the room, looking at each woven work of art in turn. There were the two maps she had noticed before her long nap and a larger one depicting dragons in an aerial battle; an epic scene with plenty of mythical creatures bordered by a twining design of blood roses. But it was the last tapestry that made her nearly drop her candle in shock. It was wider than it was tall and it took up the largest wall space, the space between her bedroom door and the place where the small closet stood.
If her emotions hadn’t been moved before by the map of Oescienne, this tapestry would have no doubt done the job. Clasping a hand over her mouth, her eyes filling with unshed tears, Jahrra held the candle up to the wall-hanging and closely examined every detail. It was so realistic that she felt as if she were standing in the very place it depicted. It was the view of Oescienne, her Oescienne, from the Castle Guard Ruin.
The time depicted in the tapestry was somewhere between noon and approaching sunset, the shadows beginning to grow long and the dunes taking on a more golden hue. The ocean was as blue as ever and the fields were patches of green and purple. Lake Ossar stood out as a gleaming pool in the upper left hand corner and the outskirts of Aldehren appeared as stone and wood structures tucked behind a hill. The Aldehren River twined and curved like a cerulean snake, making its way to the sea.
Jahrra placed her hand against her forehead and sighed. This was the closest thing to being back home she could ever imagine and she wasn’t sure if she would ever want to leave this room again. Feeling suddenly weary, she made her way over to the desk and dragged the matching chair across the room, centering it between the four poster bed and the tapestry. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, taking in all the details of the wall-hanging, but at some point in time someone knocked on her door. Jahrra barely heard it.
“Yes?” she asked faintly, not taking her eyes from the wall.
“Miss Jahrra? It’s me, Neira. May I come in?”
Jahrra made a sound of consent and the next thing she knew the maid was standing next to her.
“Is anything amiss?” she queried, placing a hand on the back of Jahrra’s chair and looking around the room warily.
Jahrra turned and blinked, taking in the woman behind her for the first time. Her eyes were nearly the same shade of brown as her hair, but they were kind, wise eyes. She had several years on Jahrra but she wasn’t so much older that she could be considered middle aged. Jahrra guessed she was Resai but she could just as easily be Nesnan. The way she had her hair pulled back in a bun covered the tips of her ears.
“No,” Jahrra finally breathed, returning her gaze to the tapestry. “Nothing is amiss at all.”
Neira considered what Jahrra was staring at. “You like this tapestry?”
Jahrra nodded numbly.
The housekeeper smiled but Jahrra didn’t notice it.
“It’s a lovely view. I wonder,” but Neira never finished what she was about to say. Jaax’s voice called from below, demanding to know where everybody was.
“Oh, I almost forgot why I came up here! To fetch you down to dinner. Are you hungry?”
Jahrra felt her stomach rumble and finally her obsession with the tapestry seemed to dissipate. She nodded and stood up from the chair, following the housekeeper out into the hall. It was twilight now and all was growing dark outside on the terrace. Someone had lit the lanterns that hung on the wall, their yellow glow forming globes of light all down the right side of the upper hallway.
The lanterns continued on along the wall, descending with the stairs, and when Neira led Jahrra through the large arch and into the main entrance room a wall of warmth, light and scent hit her. Jahrra blinked at the blazing fire and the multitude of lamps that decked the tall walls. A table large enough to seat four or more stood off to one side and upon it waited several trays and dishes that steamed and gave off the wonderful aromas she had detected when first entering this space.
Jaax stood there as well, slightly in front of the fire with one foot on a raised portion of the floor that sat in front of the tall window. He arched an eyebrow upon seeing Jahrra and cleared his throat.
“Well rested I take it?” he asked.
Jahrra simply nodded, allowing Neira to direct her to the table.
“I found her sitting in her desk chair fifteen feet away from that tapestry, the large one, staring at it as if it were speaking to her.”
Neira clucked her tongue and shook her head, patting Jahrra’s hair with the affection of an older sister. Jahrra felt slightly annoyed. She wasn’t some wayward child that was claiming to have seen gnomes pattering about her room, but she was still too overwhelmed to protest. Besides, it was nice knowing that Neira had taken a liking to her.
Jaax allowed both eyebrows to rise this time and Jahrra was relieved not to see a single trace of mockery in his look.
“Is that so?” he finally said.
Neira nodded profusely once again. “Aye. Could it be spelled, do you think?”
“No,” Jaax answered as he pulled his full weight up onto the small shelf below the window. “It’s merely a scene that would have some meaning to Jahrra.”
He settled himself then shot Neira a look as she opened her mouth to say something else.
“Thank you, Neira, you may retire for the evening.”
Whatever she was about to say, or ask, was never voiced. The housekeeper merely nodded once then sketched a neat curtsey and smiled at Jahrra before bustling away through the small door that led into the kitchen.
Several moments of silence passed between Jahrra and her guardian before Jahrra finally decided to ask Jaax about the tapestry. It was too fine a thing to have been wrought easily and it was too detailed to have been made by an artist who had never visited the Castle Guard Ruin. Someone familiar with Oescienne had to have either made it or had to have been present during the making of it in order to get all the details right.
Jahrra reached for a warm loaf of bread, pulling off a steaming chunk and placing it atop a plate. She cleared her throat and kept her eyes on the table.
“The tapestry,” she finally managed, barely getting the words out, “the one of Oescienne. Did you . . .?”
“Commission an artist to create it?” Jaax responded immediately, as if he’d been waiting for her question. “Yes.”
Jahrra felt her mouth go dry. If Jaax had any idea of how much that scene meant to her, to see it hanging on the wall as if it were a window into her home.
“How?” was all she could muster. Tapestries weren’t simple rugs to be woven in a week’s time.
Jaax lifted a large goblet between his clawed fingers and took a drink. After some time, he set the goblet back down and grinned. “It’s amazing how quickly the elves can produce such masterpieces. One day I shall take you to watch them at their work. It’s quite a wonder to see.”
Jahrra nodded numbly and got back to the business of making a plate for herself. Whether he had employed magic or not she was beyond grateful for its creation. It had been so hard to leave Oescienne behind but now she would have a reminder, a piece of her past she would be able to hold onto, to draw strength from. If I ever forget why I left everything behind and followed a dragon into the wilderness and onto a path that very well may lead to my destruction, I will have that tapestry to remind me of why I did it in the first place: to protect what I care most about. Jahrra got back to her meal and the two of them returned to their companionable silence.