“What did you see this time?” the dragon asked gently, tucking his legs under his body and folding his wings as he lay down in the cramped space next to her. He was careful not to touch her, for he knew she was still fighting the vivid reality of the dream.
Jahrra merely shook her head in answer to his question and closed her eyes. But that action only brought the pictures streaming forward once again. The stone hallways of a cold, desolate castle, a cruel king with empty eyes, an army of terrifying dragons, the smell of blood and the anguish of a mother’s loss. These memories weren’t right; recollections from a past she had no part of, from a lifetime that wasn’t hers. Gasping, she opened her eyes again and tried to focus on something else.
“Please talk to me, Jahrra,” Jaax pleaded quietly as he curled more securely around her. “I need to know that you are still with me.”
Jahrra was so used to the totalitarian version of her companion that his unusual kindness drew her out. She took a deep breath and regaled the tale to him, her voice trembling during the worst parts. She didn’t bother telling him that the dream seemed to be taking place from her point of view, as if the memories were her own. When it had started worming its way into her usual nightmare regarding Hroombra, it had scared her nearly to death. Had some long dead spirit somehow possessed her, reliving its turbulent past through her dreams?
When she finished, Jaax released a smoke-tinged sigh and said, “I’ve had nightmares as well, different than yours but nightmares nonetheless.”
Jahrra uncurled a bit and looked up at him. “You have nightmares too? Why have you not said?”
A knowing grin crept onto the dragon’s face. “Oh, for the same reason you were reluctant to tell me of yours, I’m sure.”
Jahrra nodded. No one liked to admit their vulnerabilities. Of course, her habit of declaring her night terrors for all those to hear made it harder to keep them to herself. She wondered that if she were to watch Jaax sleep, would she witness some evidence of his own bad dreams? She thought about what else he’d said, about how his dreams were different than hers. Did someone else’s memories infiltrate his nightmares as well?
Taking another deep breath and rubbing her swollen eyes, Jahrra sat up and took in their surroundings. They had been on the road for just over a week (Jahrra’s injury and foul weather creating quite a delay) and so far they hadn’t encountered any of the Crimson King’s soldiers. Jahrra wondered if it was pure luck or if Jaax had been correct in assuming the Tyrant’s minions would have a harder time finding them should they head inland. In either case, she was grateful not to have come across them. Her nightmares and her memories of why they were leaving Oescienne in the first place were bad enough.
Jahrra yawned and moved to stand up, wincing and crashing back down to the ground when she put too much weight on her sprained ankle. The injury she garnered while escaping her attackers outside the Castle Guard Ruin was healing but it still bothered her, especially on these cold nights when she had been sleeping on the hard ground.
Jaax lifted an inquiring eye, quietly asking if she needed assistance.
“I’m fine,” she grumbled as she managed to pull herself upright. “Just a little stiff from the cold is all.”
And still a little shaken from her night terrors, but that would pass.
The dragon nodded then watched her disappear into the bushes to make herself ready for the day.
Jaax sighed and contemplated what their next move should be. He had planned on hunting before dawn but the current circumstances changed his mind. Jahrra needed him here despite their awkward friendship, a friendship that seemed only as new as their week-old journey, regardless of the long years they had known one another.
Once the initial numbness of Hroombra’s death had started to wear off Jahrra had become distant and withdrawn, as if she had no will of her own. Jaax had tried everything to keep her mind occupied: pointing out the changing scenery and unfamiliar wildlife as they moved farther north and east, telling her old tales in Kruelt, asking her about all the details of her childhood that he had missed out on. Jahrra had only answered in shrugs and nods for several days and Jaax had begun to worry. He knew about her nightmares, for he woke nearly every night to the sounds of her terrible dreams, but she never wanted to talk about them.
Sighing, the dragon stood up and stretched, gazing out over the long, wide valley they had climbed above the day before. Glordienn was only a few more leagues to the north of them and the last point of civilization they would see in a long time. One of them would have to venture into that great sprawling city and purchase some much needed supplies. The wilderness could only offer so much and the suddenness of their escape had forced them to leave not as well prepared as Jaax would have liked. He knew Jahrra would have to be the one to make their purchases, and although it made the most sense it still sent fear coursing through his heart. He loathed sending her into an unknown city alone but a hooded figure riding a semequin was not nearly as conspicuous as a young woman escorted by a Tanaan dragon.
Jaax had it all planned out, regardless of his reluctance: they would arrive on the outskirts of the city well before dawn and before the sun had crested the eastern mountains. Before the sprawling rural city had a chance to properly wake up, Jahrra would have conducted her business and would be well on her way, meeting him at the eastern gates. Some dried provisions, water skins, extra travel bags and rope. That was all they needed. It wouldn’t take long to gather such common items and Jaax happened to know of a general store that would carry all four. The traveling bags would cost twice as much there than at the leather smith’s, but Hroombra had saved up plenty in the back room of the Castle Guard Ruin and if it meant a quick and discreet sale, then it was worth it. Besides, this particular store was located on the outskirts of town, very near the eastern gates and away from the busier streets.
The sound of rustling brush drew the dragon’s attention back towards his ward. Jahrra, still looking a little groggy but more alert, stepped back into the clearing, stretching and yawning. Jaax thought her limp seemed less pronounced but he couldn’t say for sure.
“How far will we make it today?” she asked, weaving her long blond hair into a braid.
“Not too far. We’ll travel to the outskirts of Glordienn.” Jaax nodded in the general direction of the large settlement at the base of the mountains, just now appearing in the pre-dawn light. “And then we’ll camp again.”
Jahrra gave him a quizzical look.
“We need supplies,” he continued. “Some rope and food, and extra bags for storing these things.”
“Phrym is already carrying enough,” she said, eyes cast down and voice growing softer.
Jaax grimaced, though Jahrra didn’t see it. “I have plenty of room on my back,” he offered.
Jahrra glanced up, a look of surprise on her face.
“As long as you find some bags with straps long enough to drape over my neck.”
“Me? I have to do the shopping?”
Yes, unfortunately, the dragon thought. “A young woman alone so early in the morning, although unusual, is not nearly as unusual as a young woman and a dragon.”
Jahrra nodded again. Jaax didn’t have to elaborate. She knew exactly what he was implying. If the Crimson King’s men did travel this way, asking questions, they would have a better chance if the people of Glordienn could only report the sighting of a girl and a semequin and not a girl, semequin and a Tanaan dragon.