After her parents’ funeral, Jahrra moved into the Castle Guard Ruin with Hroombra. She shuffled through the small entryway without even gawking at the high, vaulted ceiling. She walked past Hroombra’s massive desk littered with scrolls, parchment and its usual variety of glass jars containing an odd assortment of objects, but this familiar scene held no magic for her today. She almost lost her footing when she stepped down into the enormous living area, her boots scuffing against the stone floor. The great, black yawning mouth of the fireplace on the northern wall matched her mood, but she hardly realized it was there. Even the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on either side of the fireplace went unnoticed.
Hroombra came quietly in through the larger entrance at the north end of the building, making plenty of noise to disturb the eerie silence. Whenever Jahrra was here it was seldom silent, but he could understand why she hadn’t said a word the entire time it took him to carry her from Wood’s End Ranch. She was now staring into the small room he’d once used as a storage space, staring but not seeing. Kaihmen had helped him clean it out the day before and now Jahrra’s bed and scant furniture occupied the room.
The dragon took a weary breath and let it out slowly. “That,” he said tentatively, “will be your new room, Jahrra.”
A single tear slid down the girl’s cheek. She didn’t say a word, she didn’t even nod. She simply moved forward like a ghost and sat down heavily on her bed. Jahrra missed her apple trees and cottage terribly. She missed the pigs, chickens, and their dairy cow, always happy to see her with a bucket of feed. She was far too distracted now to be grateful they’d been taken to Wood’s End Ranch instead of being sold away to strangers. She missed the crooked walls and the roses growing helter-skelter on the fence, and she especially missed the half finished tree house she and her father had started last summer.
Hroombra’s heart broke as he watched the girl, once so full of life and vigor, sitting defeated and broken before him. He wished more than anything that he could comfort her somehow, but he knew the only true comfort was time, the slow and healing passage of time.
As Jahrra lay in bed that first night in her new room, she tried so hard not to cry while she thought about her lost parents and her abandoned home. It’s hard now, a quiet voice inside of her said, and it’ll take a long time to heal, but you’ll heal, and life will get better. Jahrra’s last image before she drifted off to sleep was one of her mother and father, smiling down at her, their heads surrounded by a garland of pink apple blossoms.
-Chapter Nine-
Moving On
In the end, it took Jahrra more than a year to get past her parents’ deaths. She finished her schooling with Hroombra that spring, not once stepping foot in the classroom in Aldehren. The old dragon knew this was the best for Jahrra, believing that being away from the hateful Resai children would speed up her recovery. Gieaun and Scede, no longer on bad terms with their best friend, visited her every day, filling Jahrra in with what she was missing at school. At first, she found it hard to concentrate on her lessons, but by the time summer arrived she was as fluent in history, mathematics, science and grammar as her friends.
Jahrra appreciated the delicate kindness everyone bestowed upon her, but it was Phrym who was the biggest comfort of all. The young semequin offered something no one else could by simply being present to listen to her sorrows without casting her sympathetic glances.
“Soon, I’ll be able to ride you across these fields Phrym, and maybe I won’t feel so sad anymore,” Jahrra would whisper quietly as she leaned her head against his warm shoulder.
He was nearly full grown and it wouldn’t be long before he’d be old enough to ride, but even that pleasant thought did little to pull Jahrra out of her misery.
When summer arrived, Jahrra found herself looking forward to something for the first time in months. She spent much of her time at Wood’s End Ranch, perfecting her horse riding skills with Gieaun and Scede as the three of them raced along the edge of the Great Sloping Hill. They’d start at the Castle Guard Ruin and sweep in a long curve, dodging around the great eucalyptus trees on the bluff’s edge until they reached the border of the Wreing Florenn. They would leave their horses tied several yards away and then venture towards the dreaded forest. They would move as close as they dared until becoming so spooked they’d run screaming in the opposite direction, leaving anyone who might be watching staring in puzzlement.
“Someday I’ll go in there! I mean it!” Jahrra breathed as they skidded to a halt in front of the startled horses.
“Yeah right!” Gieaun exclaimed. “You won’t even swim in Ossar Lake without getting scared!”
That statement caused the corners of Jahrra’s mouth to curve upward in an unfamiliar way. It’d been such a long time since she last smiled that it actually hurt to do so. The laughter continued all the way back to the ranch, all three of them clutching their sides. When Hroombra, Kaihmen or Nuhra saw them together like this their grief for Jahrra would melt away, if only for that moment.
The summer passed by rather quickly now that Jahrra had taken notice of time again. By the beginning of her third school year, she’d become much more knowledgeable in the many subjects Hroombra had taught her, and she actually felt ready to face her old classmates. The first day of school began on an oppressively hot fall day with Mr. Dharedth picking Jahrra up at the Castle Guard Ruin instead of in front of her little cabin.
The mailman seemed to treat her more delicately now, knowing that she’d faced tragedy. He spoke more gently and laughed less aggressively, softening everything about him. Jahrra appreciated his kindness, but she missed the jovial mailman of old. When they arrived at the schoolhouse, Jahrra’s fragile confidence shattered. The second they set foot out of the mail cart they learned that their old schoolmaster, Mr. Cohrbin, had left to teach in another town.
Their new teacher was a middle-aged Resai man who had shrewd black eyes, a balding head and wore a sneer of disgust whenever Jahrra, Gieaun or Scede brushed by him on the way to the classroom. He had a narrow face and was shorter than most of the older students but walked around like he was the tallest person in the world. He wore mostly black except for a white, tight collared shirt that seemed to stretch his neck out, making him look like a sallow-faced crane.
The small amount of graying brown hair he did have left on his head was pulled tightly into a neat ponytail at the base of his skull. Jahrra was tempted on many occasions to pull it as hard as she could, but feared it might come right off. He was a despicable man that disliked non-Resai children and had extremely high standards, which included his insistence on the children calling him “Professor” Tarnik.
The worst part about their new teacher, Jahrra decided, was that he favored Eydeth and Ellysian above all the other students. He constantly complimented them, admiring the impeccable way they wore their uniforms or praising their shoddy class work. Jahrra often made a face at Gieaun and Scede when Tarnik extolled Ellysian’s terrible art project or gave high marks to Eydeth’s atrocious grammar.
“He only likes them because their parents are rich!” Gieaun said in distaste.
“Father and I saw him in Toria Town a few days ago bowing as Ellysian’s father walked by. He almost fell down trying to impress him!” Scede said, trying hard not to snigger.
The three had a good laugh over it time and again and soon found comfort in mocking their horrible teacher in secret. Jahrra wouldn’t have minded their awful teacher so much if Tarnik’s fawning hadn’t made the twins more conceited than ever. Their teasing had gone from occasional quiet comments under Mr. Cohrbin’s careful watch, to daily public berating under Tarnik’s blind eye. Eydeth and Ellysian insulted Jahrra right in front of their biased teacher and had even started calling her the “Nesnan Orphan.”