Then, Jahrra now recalled with a shudder, she had suddenly become very angry in her dream world, so angry that she couldn’t even cry. She looked around frantically, her heart beginning to race. She needed to run, run away from this foggy orchard she was trapped in. She thrashed through the tangled grass and as she inhaled sharply, she could feel her lungs stinging from the chill surrounding her. She didn’t know how long she had been running, or what finally made her stop. She didn’t even know how it was that she had remained in the same spot, but the desire to run, to escape, was suddenly over. She fell to her knees; standing had become too exhausting.
Jahrra hung her head and pressed her hands into the cold, damp soil, trying hard to catch her breath. The darkness was fading, and light was dawning, but not the natural light of the sun. Off in the distance there was a glowing radiance; a soft cream-colored brilliance, as if its source were only yards away and not miles. Jahrra looked up towards the strange glow and waited in exhausted patience as her breathing slowly abated.
She knew what was coming. She always knew in these dreams of fog and trees and enchanted sunlight. Then she saw him, the hooded figure who never failed to arrive. He moved over toward the small tree-lined knoll, stepping in front of the creamy light, creating a halo around his figure, the same familiar figure she had known all of her life.
As Jahrra knelt there amongst the weeds and trees, eyes half closed from weariness, she wondered if she would ever learn who this person was. Was it one of her parents? Was it an enemy she would have to fight off her entire life? Was it a spirit that looked after her? Perhaps it was the man who had tried to kidnap her last fall. Jahrra became lost in her train of thought and her quiet visitor began walking towards her. She looked up and stared at him through glazed, half-shut eyes. He moved closer, but Jahrra hadn’t felt that she was in any danger. In fact, she felt as though a great weight was being lifted or a great hole in her soul was being filled.
The hooded figure stopped just five feet from her, and Jahrra willed herself to look directly at where his face would be, the face that was shadowed by the hood. Then he did something he had never done before. He reached up, as if to pull the hood back and reveal his face. Jahrra panicked, but she couldn’t move. She was stuck where she was, staring blankly up at him. So she did the only thing left that she could do, she allowed her eyes to close completely, just as he pulled the hood back. That is when she woke with a start.
Jahrra ran the dream through her head, time and time again, trying to decide if she was frightened, happy or relieved. Why had she shut her eyes in the dream? Hadn’t she always wanted to know who this stranger was? But she knew why she had done it: fear. She feared what might lay hidden under the hood, so she avoided it by turning away.
A sudden song-burst from a morning sparrow brought Jahrra’s mind back to the world of the conscious and she realized that the dawn had begun to grow old. Though the dream still troubled her, it would have to wait. She threw back the sheets and jumped up into a sitting position, pulled out one of her many journals she kept under her bed, jotted down the remains of her dream in as much Kruelt as she could, and then hurried to get dressed. She met Hroombra in the common room reading at his massive desk as usual. She said a quick good morning, grabbed some fruit and bread and then headed towards the door.
“Just one moment, if you please,” Hroombra said pleasantly, his eyes still glued to the material he was studying.
Jahrra had both her hands on either side of the door frame and was just about to make her escape. Great, what could he possibly want me to do now? Jahrra thought, dreading he would insist on her staying home all weekend to study. She really hoped he wouldn’t. Yaraa and Viornen thought it was quite alright that Jahrra take a weekend off to ease her weary brain, so why not her mentor?
Jahrra fell back within the common room and looked over her shoulder at her guardian.
“Yes?” she asked in the most innocent voice she could muster.
“And where are you off to today?” Hroombra droned, still not looking at her.
“To the Eight Coves, actually,” she answered, knowing full well that there was not an ounce of deception in her voice.
This time, the great Korli dragon glanced up from his manuscripts, his reptilian brows raised.
“The Eight Coves? I don’t ever remember you going there. What’s the occasion?”
Jahrra was annoyed by all of these questions, but she didn’t want to end up on Hroombra’s bad side.
“Just a few of us from class are going up there to help relax before exams. That’s alright, isn’t it?” she responded, hoping the sarcasm she felt hadn’t carried over into her tone.
“No, I think it’s a lovely idea,” Hroombra replied, once again becoming engrossed in his work. “Go on now, have a good time, and try to stay out of trouble.”
The dragon peered up at Jahrra without lifting his head and smiled crookedly.
Jahrra grinned back. “I’ll see you tonight then.”
She flew through the door, wanting to get away from her mentor as quickly as possible before he changed his mind. Phrym tossed his head playfully when he spotted Jahrra traipsing up the sloping field. She fed him one of the apples she’d grabbed for breakfast and quickly got him ready to go, deciding to finally use the new saddle she’d received from Jaax. It had been sitting safely in Phrym’s stable for many months now, slowing and determinedly collecting dust. She had told Hroombra that she didn’t want to use it right away; Phrym’s old saddle still had plenty of wear in it, why ruin the new one just yet? But that wasn’t why she had avoided using the fine saddle for so long. She just couldn’t bring herself to enjoy anything Jaax had given her.
“Now, Jahrra, do you think Raejaaxorix would be happy knowing that you haven’t made good use of his gift?” had been Hroombra’s reply to her veiled excuses. “He meant for you to use it, not to save it for a rainy day.”
Jahrra had smiled through gritted teeth. I would be thrilled if that is what Jaax really thought, but then again, not using the saddle is also upsetting Master Hroombra, so I guess I had better get Phrym used to it.
Now, recalling the discussion that had happened weeks ago, Jahrra smiled quietly as she tightened the stiff, squeaky leather straps of her brand new saddle around Phrym’s middle. She couldn’t help but admire the high quality, carved leather and the gleaming silver plates decorating the four pommels. Once she realized how much she was gawking over the fine artisans’ work, she scowled and reminded herself who had picked it out for her.
“We may be making Jaax happy Phrym,” she sighed, “but just wait until Gieaun and Scede see it!”
Jahrra hoisted herself up into the new saddle, her skin beginning to tingle as she settled between the four horns. It was astonishingly comfortable, and she felt much more secure upon it than her older saddle. She leaned forward and whispered into her semequin’s back-turned ears, “Now for the real test, Phrym. Let’s see how this thing handles our riding!”
Jahrra kicked Phrym into high speed, hurrying to meet up with Gieaun and Scede who were already waiting patiently for her on the main road. She pulled her semequin to an abrupt stop, kicking up dust and rocks at a shying Bhun and Aimhe.