“It’s not that I’ve stopped missing them,” she said to Hroombra one fine winter day as she lay next to a blazing fire in the Castle Guard Ruin. “It’s just that I’ve grown used to them not being here.”
Hroombra looked up from his work and glanced at the girl who was drawing by the firelight. He smiled a sad smile, one that portrayed his understanding of the rushed wisdom of one so young. That’s it then, he told himself, she’s no longer an innocent child. She’s begun the slow passage into adulthood, and although her child’s years will linger yet, she’ll never be quite the same again.
The winter season caught everyone unawares with an early, but mildly dangerous frost. During those early winter days the fields became dusted with a fine crystal-white powder that sparkled and held the land hostage in its icy breath.
Most mornings Jahrra would rise early to check on Phrym in his new stable. She would dress in many layers and cross the gently sloping field that stretched beyond the Castle Guard Ruin. The ground always crunched delightedly beneath her boots as she pulled her wool jacket tight around her, puffing clouds of steam as she made her way towards the stables. Phrym was always waiting for her, no matter how quietly she approached, and the two would go out riding, allowing the icy air to numb their senses.
As the second anniversary of her parents’ deaths approached, Jahrra, despite her resilience and recent happiness, found herself once again burdened by a heavy and dull sorrow. Hroombra kept an especially close eye on her and asked that Gieaun and Scede watch her at school. He knew that even the smallest remark from hostile spectators could lead to trouble, and he wanted to make sure that her road to recovery continued to be a smooth one.
The winter passed, agonizingly slow, but Jahrra got through it with much less trouble than Hroombra had anticipated. At school, the twins had been too preoccupied with Solsticetide and telling everyone about the extravagant presents they were hoping to get that they’d almost forgotten about their favorite victim. Only when Jahrra stood idly around the schoolyard did they bother to antagonize her, but that almost never happened.
Solsticetide and Jahrra’s tenth birthday passed, but the celebrations were empty and cold without her parents. As spring approached, however, Jahrra became distracted by her new garden. The seeds and bulbs were coming to life, and the lazy flowers were awakening to the warm spring days. The garden out-shown the surrounding wildflowers of the field, and soon the small pond she and her friends had dug was teaming with frogs and dragonflies, birds and butterflies. She had even transplanted a small sapling that was now showing brilliant pink blossoms. It was like her own personal oasis and she tended to it every day after school with Gieaun and Scede.
Hroombra often listened to the children chattering away amongst the flowers as he sat at his great desk in the Castle Guard Ruin. He found himself listening to the young laughter that drifted through the window behind him like one would listen to an orchestra. Against his better judgment, the great dragon allowed his mind to float away with the fragrant breezes and happy conversation, bringing him to a place long lost in time.
He found himself in another age, when this Castle Guard Ruin was not a ruin at all, but a proud building that kept a lookout for the great castle on the edge of the Sloping Hill. He heard the ghostly echo of innocent laughter of the children from the past. His heart froze and his blood became ice water when he saw the young prince and the beautiful queen. His heart seemed to melt and seep through his veins as liquid sadness, a sadness that flooded his cheerful reverie . . .
“Gieaun! Scede! Come and look at this butterfly!!! I think these are the caterpillars that belong to it!”
The sudden rise in voices broke up Hroombra’s dismal thoughts. He breathed a great sigh of relief, grateful to escape the world he had entered. It had been a place of darker times and he didn’t want to think about such things, at least, not right now.
“Whoa!!”
Scede’s reaction to Jahrra’s find caused Hroombra to chuckle to himself. I think I’ll rest now while they’re busy being distracted outdoors . . . the old dragon thought to himself. He curled his neck and tail around his enormous desk and rested his head upon the worn stone floor. I think it’s time that Jahrra know a little more about the past, but it can wait until after my nap. He soon dozed off, promising himself he’d save the painful memories for later.
-Chapter Ten-
The Castle Ruin
Hroombra had been awake from his nap for quite some time now, but his mind was still focused on the images of the past. He took a deep, weary breath and released it with a tinge of smoke. He needed to find Jahrra and the silence outside made him wonder if she had taken Phrym to Wood’s End Ranch, but he rose from the stone floor anyway. Perhaps the children had just walked up to the stables. It is time, he reminded himself with a slight shiver as he stepped out into bright daylight. It’s time for her to begin to know . . .
He checked the garden first, and to his delight he found the young girl there. She was lying on the stone flagging of her tiny paradise, watching dragonflies skitter across the surface of the pond. He smiled warmly then brushed aside the last dregs of his reticence, “Jahrra, come over here please.”
Jahrra turned her head lazily and looked up at her guardian, his massive reptilian face gazing down at her over the garden wall. She smiled as she gazed up at him quizzically. Hroombra often left her alone when she was outside, so she wondered if anything was wrong. Her mentor’s tone of voice had been casual, but it had a lingering note to it which held a hundred possible emotions.
“What is it?” she asked without moving.
“You shall see, but if you’re thinking about staying right where you are, you’ll be severely disappointed.”
Now his voice held mischief, and Jahrra knew that he was up to something, something mysterious. She jumped up enthusiastically from where she lay and easily cleared the wall.
“Where have Gieaun and Scede gone so early?” Hroombra asked curiously, his great brow creased in scrutiny. “It’s only a few hours past midday.”
“They had to go home for riding lessons. I would’ve gone too, but I wanted to sit in my garden,” Jahrra answered matter-of-factly, picking at a daisy growing as high as her garden wall. “I told them I might come over later.”
“You little ones, I just can’t seem to keep up with you these days.” The great dragon shook his head in humor.
“So, where’re we going? Should I get Phrym?” Jahrra asked, becoming curious in this sudden venture.
“Oh no, it’s just a little over three miles. Let’s make it a good walk, shall we?”
“Alright, which way?”
Jahrra had been lying still for so long that she gratefully welcomed a long walk.
“Head north, along the path leading through the woods,” Hroombra said, and then called as she bolted off, “Not too fast! I don’t move as quickly as you do!”
Jahrra stopped running and instead began dashing back and forth from one side of the path to the other, searching for more plants she might like to add to her garden. She’d been in these woods before, but no deeper than a few hundred yards. The Wreing Florenn began somewhere behind them and she didn’t want to end up in there. After only a few minutes she became bored with her hunt and noticed that they were following what appeared to be a wide, overgrown path.