“But we’re at the wetlands,” Jahrra blurted, tightening her grip on one of Hroombra’s spikes. “Isn’t this where we’re supposed to be?”
Hroombra smiled. “Yes dear Jahrra, but I wish to camp in the hills, there, where those towering rocks are.”
He nodded to a group of large stones sitting atop a natural shelf on the hillside above the great marsh.
Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede tilted back their heads and gaped up at the cairn. Jahrra thought it resembled a crown of stone atop the head of a giant trapped in the earth.
Hroombra began his trek up the narrow path twining along the hillside, the children stretching their necks to capture the changing view from his back. The sun was low on the horizon now, but there was still plenty of daylight left before dusk. The marsh below was a glimmering mirror rimmed in emerald, reflecting the slanted light of sunset. In the distance, the town of Edyadth looked like a collection of ant hills cowering beneath the shadow of the Wreing Florenn.
Jahrra shivered, imagining monsters crawling out of the forest in order to terrorize the townspeople. She quickly turned her gaze back to the path ahead and wondered what could be up this hill among the stones that interested her mentor so much.
It didn’t take them long to reach the rocky outcropping, but once they did, Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede glanced around in wonder.
“What is this place?” Scede asked, his mouth hanging open as he clung to his sister in front of him.
Hroombra stepped past the first few stone columns encircling a large patch of bare earth. Jahrra couldn’t help but notice that most of these rocks stood taller than her mentor’s head. Beyond the outer rim of stone pillars, the hillside dropped away, becoming lost in a scattering of oak and chaparral shrub.
“This,” Hroombra said smiling, “is called the Dragons’ Court. Long, long ago when dragons lived in Oescienne, this is where they met to discuss important matters. Sometimes even the king of Oescienne would be invited.”
Jahrra blinked in wonderment, suddenly feeling the importance and significance of this sacred place. Her skin began to prickle and she thought she could hear whispering on the gentle wind sloughing past her cheek and fingering through her hair. She scrambled off of Hroombra’s back when she felt a cool absence behind her, but her unease forced her to stay close to the dragon’s side even as her friends began to explore. Why does this place make me feel so anxious? she wondered, raking her eyes over the brush beyond the edge of the wide stone ring as she pressed up against Hroombra’s foreleg.
Jahrra was shocked from her veiled restlessness when Hroombra yanked on the great blanket folded across his back, almost burying her beneath it. With a great jerk of his head he spread it out upon the flat ground for the children to rest on. He then instructed them to gather some fallen branches and pile them together for a fire.
Jahrra reluctantly joined her friends, fearing to move beyond the ring of stones. Nevertheless, the thought of exploring this new place seemed too tempting to pass up, despite her earlier disquiet. Once the three of them had a good pile of kindling Hroombra breathed a stream of ruby flame upon it, causing the wood to leap with fire. The children huddled together on the blanket and Hroombra lay down as well, folding legs and wings as he settled in for the night.
The sun winked before disappearing below the horizon just as the cheery blaze replaced its light. The sky slowly turned from crimson to deep indigo, and the sounds of the night began creeping up all around them. Over the chorus of crickets, the whirring of summer beetles and the solitary mourning of an owl, Hroombra began telling the children the myths of the past.
“Now I wish to tell you an old story, a story almost as old as Ethoes herself,” Hroombra said in a quiet, humming voice that blended with the hushed sounds of the night.
The children clustered together anxiously, preparing themselves for another good tale. The old dragon told them then the story of Traagien, the first warrior dragon that Ethoes ever created. He wove a legend of loyalty and bravery, of sacrifice and forgiveness, explaining to the children that it was because of Traagien that Ciarrohn first fell, and because of his compassion that the elves got a second chance at their immortality.
When Hroombra finished his story he sat in regal stillness, looking ancient painted in the orange firelight. Jahrra felt awed and slightly saddened by the tale. When she peered over at her friends, she saw that both were staring up at Hroombra with impressed expressions on their faces; she knew they felt the same way she did.
After a few moments of silence, the great dragon pointed his head towards the sky. The stars shone more brightly in this valley for some reason, and as Hroombra instructed the children to look up, he pointed Traagien out to them.
“There,” he said, “in the northeastern sky. He watches over us all the year round, circling the constellation Aelhean and the north star, Noiramaebolis.”
Jahrra looked up and traced the shape of a dragon over the eastern hills with her finger.
“What’s that bright star called? The red one?” she asked, pointing to the center of the dragon shaped in starlight.
“That is Atrova, the Dragon’s Heart,” Hroombra answered knowingly.
Jahrra smiled, settling back between Gieaun and Scede. She knew that from now on she would always have something to draw courage from if she ever felt alone or afraid. In life, Traagien had protected the weak and helpless, and perhaps he could watch over her now from the heavens.
Hroombra told them a little more about the summer constellations as the three friends lay on their backs gazing up in wonder and a meteor shower began shortly after he finished his lesson in astronomy.
“Ah, this reminds me of the story of the Oak and the Pine,” Hroombra said, smiling at the brilliant streaks of colorful light above. “When Ethoes created her very first trees, the Oak and the Pine, she drew them in the sky above and set the bright stars to outline them. The Pine kept its leaves all the year round, never shedding a single one while the Oak lost them completely in the winter.”
The dragon glanced down at the three pairs of eyes watching him, glittering from the firelight.
“After some time, the Oak began to wonder why she had to lose her leaves while the Pine kept his. So the Oak went to Ethoes with her plight, ‘Why must I lose my leaves for half of the year while the Pine is allowed to keep his always? Why can I not keep mine as well?’
“Ethoes thought about this and told the Oak she had always imagined her this way, and so that is how she was created. The Oak was saddened and returned to her place in the sky, but the Pine had overheard what was said. ‘Dear Goddess,’ he said to Ethoes, ‘I too wonder why the Oak cannot keep her leaves all the year round. Is there not a way to make this so?’
“Ethoes knew she couldn’t grant the Oak her wish without disturbing the balance of nature, but eventually she thought of a way to please both the Oak and the Pine. She called the Oak back to her and spoke to both trees at once, ‘Dear Oak and Pine, I have made you the way you are and there is no way I can change that. Unless the Pine is willing to sacrifice his leaves as well, then the Oak must remain as she is. If you are both willing to have leaves on your boughs all the year round, then you must constantly pay me with those leaves and re-grow them to show me the promise you have made.’
“The Oak knew that this could never be, for how could the Pine make such a sacrifice? But he agreed to the solution, giving the Oak her one true wish. And so that is why we see the falling stars, for they aren’t stars at all, but the pine needles and oak leaves that the Pine and Oak are giving back to Ethoes for the bargain they made. That is why we call those constellations the Wise Oak and the Noble Pine, for the Oak was wise to see that she lost her leaves, while the Pine was noble for aiding her in her plight. And this is why the oaks and pines today lose their leaves and re-grow them all throughout the year, for the pact they made with Ethoes.”