The Awakening by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

scanned the crowd as they did so, noting that the majority of them were Resai, including the man Jaax had called Aydehn. They hadn’t been far removed from their elvin ancestors, however; she could tell by their features. Some of them may have even been first generation Resai, but Resai they still were.
    “Please,” Aydehn said, stepping aside and gesturing, “come join us in the town square where we can hear your story and perhaps tell you a little about your beginning. And you must be tired from your journey.”
    Jahrra nodded politely as she pulled Phrym forward. Jaax stepped up so that he walked beside her. To her dismay, the crowd parted to give them space, bowing their heads obsequiously as she passed. All of this was simply too much to take in. It would have been overwhelming enough if they had simply greeted a small village after being alone in the wilderness for so long, but to enter a village and then to be gawked at as if she were some sort of goddess? That was even worse. Jahrra shook her head and considered the dragon walking smoothly beside her. She frowned and moved closer to him.
    “They treat me as if I’m of royal birth,” she hissed in Jaax’s direction.
    “Yes, and you had best get used to it. We’ll meet several people who will do so; the people of Crie just happen to be the first.”
    Jahrra cringed. “You don’t treat me like royalty.”
    Jaax smirked but it was more of a grin.
    “Aye, and I don’t intend to. Besides,” he added with a wicked lilt to his voice, “how can you be so sure it is not I they bow to?”
    That made her laugh. True, it was tinged with bitterness and disbelief, but it was still a laugh. She hadn’t laughed since . . . since before Hroombra died.
    As they moved through the village, Jahrra felt her unease dissipate. Though the ground they walked on had patches of mud in several places its location was ideal. So long as the river never rose and overflowed the beehive houses would be safe.
    Jahrra took a deep breath and let her eyes wander freely. Beyond the river bank she could see several small islands she was sure were one of the reasons for the river’s placid nature. Already some wildflowers had begun nodding their showy heads in the breeze. She returned her focus back on the community sprawling out before her. Several pens had been constructed to hold goats, sheep, ducks, chickens, geese and rabbits. Jahrra eyed the animals with curiosity, wondering how the villagers made use of them. It seemed these people of Crie lived a simple life, even more simple than the life she had led in Oescienne. Jahrra grinned. It heartened her to know she had come from such an unpretentious upbringing. It made the villagers’ initial behavior towards her seem even more ridiculous.
    Eventually she and Jaax came upon a great circular clearing near the town’s center where benches were placed all around a soot-stained fire pit. The crowd filled in silently around them like a thick fog rolling in for the evening. But their relative silence was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a woman. She looked like a whirlwind, her white-streaked, chestnut hair coming loose from the braid that trailed down her back. She scanned the crowd and spotted the Resai man who had invited them over.
    “Aydehn!” she cried. “What are you up to now? You’re supposed to be milking the goat, not out here lollygagging about.”
    It was at that moment the woman took note of Jaax. Her eyes widened and she stopped short with a gasp. “Raejaax! What on Ethoes?”
    But her eyes had wandered from the dragon and had instead fallen upon Jahrra. For the breath of a moment her hazel eyes were obscure with confusion, but in the very next heartbeat they flickered with realization.
    “Drisihn?” she whispered, her hands moving to cover her mouth.
    Before Jahrra could respond the woman was upon her, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Unlike the other villagers, this Resai woman threw her arms around her and