managed to fend off Viornen while simultaneously detecting Yaraa as she crept up silently behind her. Hroombra was all smiles when Jahrra returned home that afternoon with the good news.
“Now, if only you could do the same in your Kruelt lessons,” he teased.
Jahrra had been struggling with the ancient language ever since she first started studying it. She sighed deeply, wishing she didn’t have to continue learning Draggish.
Now that summer was in full swing, Jahrra found herself struggling to make time for her friends. She had started a more rigorous training program with the elves, since she’d been progressing so well, but that also meant a new schedule, one that consisted of early mornings and nighttime meditating under the stars. She hardly ever had time for Gieaun and Scede, and they were often left spending the long summer days with some of their new friends from school.
Jahrra missed her best friends and her lessons with the elves of Dhonoara were proving to be harder than ever. If only she could visit Denaeh once more before the start of school, that might help ease her mind a little. She hadn’t seen the Mystic since the beginning of the summer and she dearly needed the cool, soothing calm only the Black Swamp could offer. Jahrra sighed inwardly knowing that the Belloughs would have to wait. Right now, she needed to focus on her training. She still had half the summer left and perhaps she would get a day or two free to spend however she wished before it was all over.
***
“Now, we are very proud of the progress you’ve made over the past few years Jahrra, and we believe you are ready to start the next step in your training, but we want you to remember that we don’t expect you to learn this overnight,” Yaraa told her seriously a few weeks after her assessment. “This is the longest and most challenging step in becoming an expert fighter, so you must practice patience.”
Jahrra took a deep breath and focused all of her attention on what Yaraa was telling her. This new stage in her training required every scrap of concentration she could muster, and she wasn’t about to let her daydreams get the better of her. Focus , she told herself as she narrowed her eyes in scrutiny, focus . . .
By the end of the day, Viornen was sporting a bruise on his forearm, Yaraa was sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath, and Strom, Samibi and Srithe were hiding somewhere where their parents couldn’t find them and drag them out to act as potential enemies.
Once Yaraa finally caught her breath, she glanced up at Jahrra and smiled broadly. “Well done!” she breathed.
She stood and dusted off her leather pants and stretched out her arms and back. “You have been working very hard all summer and today we see the evidence of your hard work paying off.”
Jahrra was covered in dirt and displayed a few scrapes and bruises herself, but she had managed to stay on her feet.
Yaraa went and stood by her husband, stretching to murmur something in his ear. Viornen nodded once and Yaraa turned her bright eyes on Jahrra, smiling enormously. She approached the bedraggled girl and held out her hand. Jahrra blinked in surprise, for the elf was holding a blue leather bag, drawn tight with a string.
“We have been saving this for you, but both Viornen and I agree that you are ready to have it. It may not seem like much, but we suspect it will aid you in your progress of our arts of defense.”
Jahrra gave her trainer a puzzled look, but smiled lightly and took the bag.
“Open it,” Viornen urged, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Jahrra drew a forearm across her brow and sat down on the fence that surrounded the cabin. She carefully tugged at the strings and upturned the pouch into her hand. A bracelet made of string and beads, coiled delicately like a languid snake, fell into her palm. The string was rather fibrous, tough and the color of hay. The beads that were woven within it were made of polished
“Now, if only you could do the same in your Kruelt lessons,” he teased.
Jahrra had been struggling with the ancient language ever since she first started studying it. She sighed deeply, wishing she didn’t have to continue learning Draggish.
Now that summer was in full swing, Jahrra found herself struggling to make time for her friends. She had started a more rigorous training program with the elves, since she’d been progressing so well, but that also meant a new schedule, one that consisted of early mornings and nighttime meditating under the stars. She hardly ever had time for Gieaun and Scede, and they were often left spending the long summer days with some of their new friends from school.
Jahrra missed her best friends and her lessons with the elves of Dhonoara were proving to be harder than ever. If only she could visit Denaeh once more before the start of school, that might help ease her mind a little. She hadn’t seen the Mystic since the beginning of the summer and she dearly needed the cool, soothing calm only the Black Swamp could offer. Jahrra sighed inwardly knowing that the Belloughs would have to wait. Right now, she needed to focus on her training. She still had half the summer left and perhaps she would get a day or two free to spend however she wished before it was all over.
***
“Now, we are very proud of the progress you’ve made over the past few years Jahrra, and we believe you are ready to start the next step in your training, but we want you to remember that we don’t expect you to learn this overnight,” Yaraa told her seriously a few weeks after her assessment. “This is the longest and most challenging step in becoming an expert fighter, so you must practice patience.”
Jahrra took a deep breath and focused all of her attention on what Yaraa was telling her. This new stage in her training required every scrap of concentration she could muster, and she wasn’t about to let her daydreams get the better of her. Focus , she told herself as she narrowed her eyes in scrutiny, focus . . .
By the end of the day, Viornen was sporting a bruise on his forearm, Yaraa was sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath, and Strom, Samibi and Srithe were hiding somewhere where their parents couldn’t find them and drag them out to act as potential enemies.
Once Yaraa finally caught her breath, she glanced up at Jahrra and smiled broadly. “Well done!” she breathed.
She stood and dusted off her leather pants and stretched out her arms and back. “You have been working very hard all summer and today we see the evidence of your hard work paying off.”
Jahrra was covered in dirt and displayed a few scrapes and bruises herself, but she had managed to stay on her feet.
Yaraa went and stood by her husband, stretching to murmur something in his ear. Viornen nodded once and Yaraa turned her bright eyes on Jahrra, smiling enormously. She approached the bedraggled girl and held out her hand. Jahrra blinked in surprise, for the elf was holding a blue leather bag, drawn tight with a string.
“We have been saving this for you, but both Viornen and I agree that you are ready to have it. It may not seem like much, but we suspect it will aid you in your progress of our arts of defense.”
Jahrra gave her trainer a puzzled look, but smiled lightly and took the bag.
“Open it,” Viornen urged, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Jahrra drew a forearm across her brow and sat down on the fence that surrounded the cabin. She carefully tugged at the strings and upturned the pouch into her hand. A bracelet made of string and beads, coiled delicately like a languid snake, fell into her palm. The string was rather fibrous, tough and the color of hay. The beads that were woven within it were made of polished
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