“Long ago, before even the land of Oescienne existed, the god Ciarrohn was born. He was the youngest son of Ethoes and Haelionn and as he grew he became twisted and evil. He turned the elves against the world, and because of that he was thrown to the earth from the heavens during the great battle with the dragon Traagien.
“Now, I’ve told you part of this story before, and you know that Ciarrohn’s form became the Elornn and the Thorbet mountains, but what you don’t know is the story of the people who were brave enough to cross those mountains and settle in the land beyond them, this land.”
Hroombra snuck a peek at Jahrra and noticed she was sitting attentively, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes. He smiled slightly and continued on, “This is the story of the Tanaan Tribe, the human race that became the rulers of Oescienne. Their people came into this land when the world was in turmoil, many ages ago after the defeat of Ciarrohn but before Ethoes was able to restore peace. When the Goddess finally divided her world into the present day provinces, she gave this province for them to rule.
“For many years the Tanaan ruled their realm in peace and prosperity. They built this great castle and the people thrived under their fair reign. The Tanaan were happy and knew their world was safe, but as the years passed and one generation took the throne after another, talk of a great evil in the east reached their province.
“A young man in the cursed province of Ghorium had seized power over the land and in turn had gained the aid of the dreaded god Ciarrohn. This news struck a great chord of fear into the hearts of the people, for not only had Ciarrohn awoken from his deep slumber, but the evil god and his mortal accomplice had destroyed all the other races of humans in the world. All but the Tanaan.”
Hroombra paused to draw breath, taking stock of Jahrra’s enraptured state. He cleared his throat and continued, “The world was no longer safe, and the king of the Tanaan knew that he had to do something before more damage could be done. He sent messengers to the different kingdoms of the world and gathered together an army of allies to march upon the east and purge the land of the evil that had awoken. He took with him seven of his eight sons, leaving his queen and the youngest prince behind.”
Hroombra paused, closed his eyes and took a breath, looking very much like he was trying to unravel a difficult riddle. When he opened his eyes again he looked down at Jahrra and felt a shiver when he saw the slight despair in her eyes.
Oh, how he knew that despair . . .
He shook his head slightly and cleared his throat, “It took the king and his allies nearly a year to reach the east, and when they did they were met with devastation. The evil king who’d taken over the land with Ciarrohn’s help killed the Tanaan ruler and his sons, along with many of the other warriors who’d joined them. They were laid to waste on the Desolate Plain, and those who escaped fled west, towards home, hoping against all hope that the god Ciarrohn and his new pawn, the tyrant Cierryon, didn’t follow them.
“Another two years passed before the remaining, defeated Tanaan came crawling over the mountain pass and through the ancient canyon their ancestors had used when they first settled in Oescienne. Soon word spread throughout the land of their return and the forlorn men were brought to the castle. The queen waited eagerly for any sign of her husband and sons, and when she learned of their demise, she fell into despair.”
Hroombra took a deep, calming breath and shut his eyes. At first, Jahrra wasn’t sure if he would continue, but after several agonizing minutes he trudged on, his voice sounding strange, his eyes still shut.
“A great Korli dragon, the royal family’s mentor and tutor had gone to the fight with the king and was the one to break the news to the beautiful queen, now lost in anguish.
“The dragon had regretted the king’s decision in the beginning, but he’d refused to let them go alone. Now it all seemed such a waste, such a horrible, impossible waste. So many had died and now the queen and her young son were left without a family. The dragon knew that the only thing he could do now was teach the young prince everything he knew so that he may learn to be a good king like his father.
“The Tanaan people eventually healed from this terrible blow, but one of them did not. The queen, who had become overcome with grief on the day the bedraggled soldiers returned, had remained bed-ridden since, slowly slipping away. Her heart couldn’t take such a loss, and although her young son was there beside her his love couldn’t keep her in this world. She died only a few months after learning of her husband’s fate, perishing of a broken heart.
“The prince lost all hope after that, and no matter how hard the great dragon tried to aid his new student, the boy simply couldn’t comprehend such a loss. His mother had been the last thing keeping him anchored to the world. After her death, a shadow fell over the boy, and he was never again to be the laughing, bright child he used to be.
“Ten years passed and the boy grew into a young man, his Korli tutor watching him like a hawk every waking hour. The prince learned everything the dragon taught him, but he never learned how to move on or how to forgive. He desired vengeance, a vengeance that inspired him to organize a group of men bent on revenge for what had happened to them. Secretly, the prince and his alliance planned a march against Cierryon, now known to all as the Crimson King, hoping to attack before the Tyrant gained more power.
“Another year passed before the prince found a chance to enact upon his revenge. His great mentor, who had no idea of the prince’s plans, was absent from Oescienne. The prince saw his opportunity and gathered his men together to march on their common enemy. By the time the dragon returned, the prince had been gone nearly two months. Panicked and desperate, he called together as many dragons as he could and flew after the young man and his army, hoping that somehow they’d been delayed in their quest. The desperate dragons soared over mountains and plains, great ravines and deserts, the whole while calling upon the aid of old friends and former allies.
“Finally, they reached Ghorium, the dreaded land of the Crimson King. What they found there, however, was a nightmare. A chill that nearly extinguished the fire within his stomach crept through the great dragon, guardian of the prince. He didn’t find his beloved Tanaan humans, but the evil Morli dragons he recognized from before, surrounding a race of dragons that he didn’t recognize.
“With a cold heart, the prince’s guardian realized that these new dragons were their very own Tanaan humans, the humans they were supposed to care for and nurture. The soldiers who had been bold enough to attack the Crimson King had been transformed into the creatures the evil god Ciarrohn despised the most. He had conjured up a dark curse, a curse sealed in hatred and blackness.
“Despite the odds against them, however, the Korli dragons and their allies managed to free the new Tanaan dragons and together they fled westward, as far away from the blighted east as they could. When they finally arrived in Oescienne, exhausted and dejected, they found that their families too had become dragons.”
Hroombra sighed and shook his head ever so slightly. He hated telling this story, but Jahrra had to know. He adjusted his posture then continued on, “The royal mentor lost heart then and fell into despair. The Tanaan had been the last race of humans in the world of Ethoes, and the Crimson King and the evil god Ciarrohn had taken the first step in conquering the world. Not one human being was left to take the throne of Oescienne, so now it lay open for the evil king to rule as soon as he desired to take it.
“After the transformation of the Tanaan, the great castle which they’d built over several hundred years began to crumble. The same curse that made them dragons also began to destroy their castle. Not a single stone mason, no matter how hard he tried, could repair the eroding palace. It seemed as if the fortress itself was a living part of Oescienne and was weathering away in despair. That was five hundred years ago now, and since then the castle has remained in disrepair, forgotten, just as the story of the curse of the Tanaan has been forgotten in time.”