The bonfire burned brightly for several hours through the night, casting strange shadows of costumed dancers and revelers against the buildings of the town, making it look as though the streets were alight with demons and spirits. As the festive night wore on and as the leaping and wild flames became tame and cowering coals, so too did the many costumed celebrants. The hours of dancing, singing and merriment had exhausted everyone present, including Jahrra and her four friends. As Echnia the dawn goddess slowly awoke, the tired people of Lensterans began solemnly trudging out of town.
“Come on,” Pahrdh whispered quietly. “Everyone is heading towards the harvested fields to get ready for sunrise.”
Jahrra watched with a glazed expression as the throngs of people slowly drained out of the middle of town. Gieaun pulled on her arm as Scede and Pahrdh led them all west towards the stables where their horses were sleeping. Along the way, they could see that small, individual fires had been kindled amid the now barren fields, their brilliant orange glare looking like puddles of molten rock against the black. Several families were camped out around these fires and were now settling in until the dawn arrived. At first light, they would all rise and greet the sun, Haelionn, and give thanks for his nurturing of the earth and for giving them what light he could during the darkest part of the year.
The friends strolled by the last few vendors on the edge of town and each bought some hot apple cider, a roasted chicken leg and a caramel apple as they passed. While she trudged along sipping her spiced cider, Jahrra looked up into the sky. The moon was still above the western horizon, but its light didn’t drown out the stars as much as it had before. Jahrra paused for just a moment and looked to the east. The hills were lined with a thin thread of turquoise, rising and falling as it outlined the hilltops. The dawn will be here soon, Jahrra thought. The winter’s dawn.
Jahrra followed her companions tiredly over to an open patch of broken earth and helped them spread a few blankets to sit on. The boys got a fire going and the girls set out the extra food they’d brought with them. Jahrra closed her eyes and breathed in the aroma of the early morning as the small crackling fire warmed her face. Winter was just around the corner and in a few months’ time she would be sixteen years old, almost an adult. She both dreaded and anticipated the fast approaching future. She would be finished with school in just over a year, and she would probably be going on to study in the great city of Lidien afterwards. At least that is what Master Hroombra will want, she thought regretfully as she watched a falling star. The old dragon had mentioned it on occasion before, his golden eyes lighting up as he described the great city and all that one could learn there.
Jahrra sighed. She didn’t want to leave Oescienne. It saddened her to think of leaving Hroombra; Hroombra who couldn’t even make it to the Fall Festival. How would he survive without her and what would she do without him to help guide her? He had been her solid ground when her whole world had been ripped from beneath her. He had taken her in, helped her get over the grief of losing two parents, and he had taught her just about everything she now knew. Jahrra shook her head and brought her eyes back to earth. Thinking about such things brought back old memories that made her sad. I will think about what is to come some other time, she said to herself, but not now.
Later that morning she would head back home as the natives of Lensterans continued their festival. She longed to see her Korli guardian, to tell him about the many celebrations and traditions she’d witnessed, but she knew she had to be careful not to mention what had happened in the woods. Jahrra grimaced as she once again recalled the stranger’s tight grip on her. Her rib cage hurt and she was sure she’d find several bruises in the next few days. She would just have to tell everyone she’d fallen off Phrym or tripped over her costume onto the hard cobblestone streets of Lensterans. She couldn’t tell anyone about what really happened.
When the sun’s golden fingers finally reached up over the eastern hills, all of the people around, Nesnan, Resai and everyone in-between, sang a sad song of hope and finality as they made their slow, solemn march back to the dying bonfire in the town square. The young women carried the last flowers of the year and tossed them upon the remaining embers, their bright lights quickly winking out. As the flowers burned and hissed, purple, red and green smoke rose into the air. Everyone bowed their heads in reverence, for the Dark Half of the year had officially begun.
-Chapter Twelve-
Lessons, Languages and Exams
During the weeks following Sobledthe, Jahrra found it impossible to forget about what had happened in the woods outside of Lensterans. The dismal feeling of dread would have passed in time, she was sure, if only it hadn’t been for Eydeth’s strange behavior towards her at school. Instead of glaring at her across the schoolyard and shouting out his usual insults, he resigned himself to keeping his eyes down and muttering nervously anytime she walked by. Jahrra knew it wasn’t because she’d evaded his grasp once again; it had everything to do with the strange man who had almost captured her. The fragile state of Eydeth, and his sister as well, made Jahrra feel even worse than before. She now knew by the way they were acting that the man in the forest was much more than a mere vagabond or petty thief. If he’d frightened the twins to the verge of tears, then he must be someone quite dangerous indeed.
Jahrra tried to shake off her troublesome thoughts so that she could focus on her studies. The days were ticking by and as the winter months approached, so did exams. She stayed up late every night with Hroombra, studying and memorizing and practicing. Not only did she have her modern history, mathematics and writing lessons at school to contend with, but she also had ancient history, natural history and Kruelt with Hroombra, not to mention lessons with Yaraa and Viornen as well. She was busy with everything from interpreting difficult Draggish passages, learning the dates of important events in history, and spending weekends pushing herself to her physical limits with the elves. By the time all of her exams and tests were over, Jahrra was exhausted.
“Ah, very accurate.” Hroombra smiled as he looked down at Jahrra’s portfolio of maps, plants and animals of Oescienne. He had allowed her to use them on one of his ancient history exams. “Your ability to draw is one of your best skills, I have to say.”
Jahrra smiled, relieved she’d done so well. Unfortunately, but not at all surprisingly, she didn’t do so well in Kruelt. “I’ll never learn this wretched language!” she fumed, throwing her pencil down in distaste and puffing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes.
“You must learn it, Jahrra.” Hroombra frowned. “We just need to work a little harder. You just need to practice more.”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t the only one who spoke it in all of Oescienne I would have learned it by now!”
She didn’t mean to get frustrated with Hroombra, but she’d been so tense lately because of all that had happened in the last few months that she often lost her temper. Studying and struggling through her defense exercises was stressful enough and the knowledge that her would-be abductor (who was dangerous after all) was on the loose didn’t help matters. Despite all of these misgivings, however, Jahrra managed to survive the final week of exams at school, ensuring her a final year of education at the small schoolhouse in Aldehren. Once all of her tests were over, Jahrra was able to relax a little, and soon she was back to work at convincing herself that what had happened in Lensterans was all a misunderstanding.