-Chapter Twelve-
Blue Flames and Draggish Words
The weeks following the visit to the Castle Ruin were both fulfilling and frustrating in Jahrra’s opinion. First of all, it was thrilling to know the story of the Tanaan king and the missing prince, as tragic as it may be. It seemed like such a tantalizing tale, one that couldn’t possibly have happened but one that Hroombra insisted was in fact, true.
Jahrra would spend the evenings by the great hearth in the Ruin’s common room, gazing at the flames and running an endless stream of questions through her head. How did the evil king turn the Tanaan into dragons? Did he use magic? Could the curse be broken, and if so, would the Tanaan dragons turn back into humans? Were any of those who were once human still alive? Would the castle return to what it once was if the curse was broken? Jahrra was dying to ask Hroombra, but every time she attempted to bring it up, he simply shook his head and told her he didn’t know.
This was beyond frustrating, for she couldn’t tell if he was serious or just trying to dodge her questions. Over time, she found herself enduring her unbound curiosity in thoughtful silence, especially when the school year began winding down. Fortunately her preoccupation with the Tanaan legend kept her mind off of the daily torment she faced at school. Ignoring the twins was easier than ever when she had the mystery of the legend of Oescienne on her mind.
This helped during actual school lessons as well. Jahrra took her education seriously, but not her educator. Tarnik’s method of teaching math was convoluted and confusing, his grammar lessons could bore a statue to tears, and when it came to Ethoen history and mythology, Jahrra often found herself tempted to launch her pen at him. He never got anything right, often obscuring facts or making heroes out to be twisted or idiotic. Jahrra usually went into daydream mode during his lectures, but one day his lesson was so outrageous she couldn’t even lose herself in her own thoughts.
“I wish we didn’t have such an awful teacher,” Gieaun groaned as they streamed out of the stuffy classroom on their final day of school.
“I know! Claiming dragons are mere figments of our imaginations!” Jahrra was simply flabbergasted and she had
actually laughed out loud in class, earning her thirty minutes detention after school.
“Maybe you should invite him over after school someday. I’m sure he’d love to meet Master Hroombra and discuss his theory.”
Scede cast Jahrra an impish grin and she snorted. “Yeah, he’d think he was hallucinating!”
Jahrra pursed up her face and stood rigid, speaking in a harsh, pinched voice that sounded remarkably like Tarnik’s, “I tell you, dragons are creatures invented by story tellers to add drama to their tales. You see, you see! I’m imagining one right now, do you see it?!”
Jahrra jabbed her finger as if pointing to an imaginary Hroombra, towering over them at the Castle Guard Ruin.
By the time they arrived at the stables to fetch their horses, Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede could barely walk from laughing so hard.
“Ugh!” Jahrra cried, wiping away a few tears and taking on a more serious tone, “Sometimes I just wish he and the twins would disappear!”
“Is that so, Nesnan?” asked a smug, cold voice from behind. “If anyone should disappear, it should be you.”
The three of them turned quickly, fearing for a split second that Tarnik had actually been behind them.
“What do you want?” Jahrra said distastefully when she recognized who it was.
Eydeth just stood there and sneered silently. Three of his friends, all bigger, older boys, came walking over to stand just behind him, their arms crossed menacingly like a trio of body guards.
“If you dislike us so much, why do you go to such trouble to follow us around?” Gieaun asked coolly, crossing her arms to match the thugs.
“Nobody asked you!” Eydeth snapped ferociously, glaring both at Gieaun and Scede. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, both of you, for associating with this Nesnan!”
Eydeth was obviously out of insults to throw, and Jahrra wasn’t in the mood to stand there and have him glare at them the rest of the afternoon. Summer vacation had started after all, and it wasn’t going to start out on a bad foot, not if she could help it. She took a deep breath and gave Eydeth her most menacing glare.
“Look,” she said rather boldly, “if you’re just going to stand there and look stupid, then waste your time somewhere else. We’ve got a long ride home and the last thing we want to do is stick around here and look at your ugly face.”
Gieaun and Scede had to turn away to hide their laughter, and even a few of the boys standing behind Eydeth found it hard to keep a straight face.
Eydeth, however, turned vermillion with anger. “What’d you say to me?!” he spat with rage.
“I said,” Jahrra answered slowly, as if speaking to a very small child, “I’ll be leaving now, so if you have anything else to say, then say it. But my guess is that your vocabulary isn’t large enough.”
Jahrra crossed her arms aggressively, flung her braided hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head, and stood up as tall as she could, a whole head taller than Eydeth.
The group of boys moved in closer, and Eydeth looked like a volcano about to erupt as he stood there contemplating what he should do next. Jahrra took advantage of the stalemate, turning and continuing the short walk up to the stables, a snickering Gieaun and Scede on her tail.
“Don’t you turn your back on me!” Eydeth screamed as he began walking briskly after them.
Jahrra heard his approach, but she ignored it and kept on moving, her heart beginning to race. Just as Eydeth was closing in, she reached Phrym’s stable door. With one swift motion of her arm, she lifted the rope loop that kept the door shut, and Phrym came bursting out, driving Eydeth back. The tall semequin began swinging his head and stomping his heavy hooves on the ground, knocking Eydeth completely off of his feet.
“AAAAGGGHHH!” he shouted as the young stallion pushed passed him, frightening off the other students.
Eydeth’s friends scurried away from the agitated animal while Jahrra walked over to grab his halter. As soon as he sensed that Jahrra was no longer upset, Phrym began to calm down. She patted his cheek and whispered calming words to him, but Phrym never took his eyes off the boy who had been trying to hurt his friend. He snorted and drew his ears back in irritation.
Once Eydeth saw that the semequin was no longer running amuck, he scrambled to his feet and began limping off. In a last ditch effort to insult Jahrra, he whipped his head around and shouted in a voice that broke more than once, “You’d better learn to control that stupid horse! It’s bound to get you into a lot of trouble some day!”
Jahrra simply smiled and retorted, “He’s not a horse. He’s a semequin, and he would never get me into trouble.”
Eydeth smiled smugly at this statement, barely masking his grimace of pain. “Ha! Where would a poor Nesnan like you get a semequin?!”
He seemed amused by this and even straightened up a bit from his slumping posture. But as Eydeth began looking Phrym up and down, his maniacal grin crept away as he saw the truth in what Jahrra had said.
Jahrra tossed her head and chirped, waggling the fingers of her free hand, “I got him from an imaginary dragon.”
Eydeth’s smile disappeared completely. Whatever he might have wanted to say next, however, stayed unsaid. He turned and limped back towards the schoolhouse to wait with his sister for their carriage.
“Jahrra! You shouldn’t have told him that!” Gieaun hissed.