Phoenix

The dimness of the day fell into full darkness, the final vestiges of sunlight taking with them the last hints of warmth the day possessed. Shivering, I pulled my hood down low against the cold. Lexia came to sit by me, pulling up her own hood against the cold. Our bodies shielded each other from the biting wind.

“It is getting bad, Phoenix,” Lexia said. I put an arm around her shoulders.

“We will last the night,” I said. “It is not so cold yet.”

“We will,” she agreed. “But that is not the problem.” Eremil settled in on the other side of Lexia and Lexia leaned into him. I willed the fire to increase in size and its warmth spread over us.

“What is the problem?” Eremil asked, and then chuckled. “I mean, what is the problem other than chasing a dead villain who stole the object fated to save our people across a landscape barren of life and not knowing how to fight her once we catch her? What other problem do we have?”

“We are losing Phoenix,” Lexia said. Her words hit me like a fist to the gut.

“No,” Eremil said. His eyes met mine and I saw panic there. The wind gusted, blowing dry heat across our faces.

“No,” I said, bringing the fire back under control.

“Yes,” Lexia said. “The Darkness has told you a story so convincing that you begin to believe it.” I stared at her.

“No,” I said again, my eyes darting from Lexia to Eremil. My heart begged acceptance of Eremil, of Lexia, but I did not find it in their faces. “I don’t believe it. It’s not real. They’re just dreams.”

“But you do,” Lexia insisted. “Listen to the way you spoke just now. The common tongue pollutes your speech, just as the Darkness pollutes your mind.”

“And what can I do about it?” I demanded. “How can I stop it?” The fire roared, scalding hot. Eremil and Lexia turned away from it.

“When all is lost, when all hope is gone, you must believe,” Lexia said, holding her gloved hands up to protect her face from the heat.

“You said that before!” I yelled. “It doesn’t mean anything more than it did before. I can’t use that, Lexia. There’s nothing in it for me!”

“Calm yourself, my Prince,” Eremil said. The gloved hand he held to protect himself from the heat of the fire smoked. “You are here with us now. That is enough.”

I recalled the fire, settling it back to warm us.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Let’s get some sleep. Our troubles will greet us in the morning.”

We slept through the cold night and my dreams were of Eloria.

In the morning, we followed our normal routine, though Lexia’s words haunted me. Eremil readied the horses, threatening Cinder with a fist when she bared her teeth at him. Lexia assembled breakfast and I…

I watched the watery sun rising above the distant mountains, feeling its meager heat suffuse the sleeping land. Its light was weak, but spreading. It made me think of Jewel in that false place, a light beyond the brightness of other lights.

Hope, I thought. I had to find a way to have hope when all was lost. But it wasn’t lost yet. I wasn’t lost yet.

Silence ensconced us as we mounted, riding higher into the mountains. Lexia led us onward at a canter, chasing the weak sun up the snowy pass. When the horses tired, we dismounted and slogged along, pulling them behind us. Then, when Eremil tired, we remounted and rode. Eventually even Princess admitted weariness as we crested the pass’s summit and the sun began to sink down into the horizon. Blazing orange light swept upward into the clouds, lighting the sky afire. Though we had traveled far, the hour could not be so late. But the light was receding behind the distant mountains.

“It is early yet,” Lexia said, studying the horizon. “If we do not rescue Light soon, day will be nothing but a memory. We should camp here, I think.”

“It has only been a few days,” Eremil said, squinting into the sunset. “Surely Light cannot have been subverted so quickly.”

Lexia looked at first Eremil and then pointedly at the falling sun. “Surely,” she said, “it has.”

Why are you here? a familiar, sweet voice sounded in my head.

I’m crazy, I thought, though it did not make sense. I’m here because I’m crazy.

“I am Phoenix the Scarred,” I whispered, ignoring my errant thoughts. “I am Prince of Eloria. I am here to hunt the Darkness and return the Scepter to safekeeping. I know why I am here.”

Might startled beneath me, dancing sideways, pulling me from my thoughts. Instinctively, I clutched the reins, pain shooting up my arm from my newly-scarred wrist.

From the trees across the stream, a tall figure emerged. It wore a black cloak which dragged across the snowy ground, picking its way through the twisting trees.

“Ho there,” Eremil called. His friendly greeting was made a lie by his hand which drifted to his axe. Cinder tossed her head anxiously.

The dark figure turned to face Lexia, ignoring Eremil entirely.

“You have come far, children,” it said. The voice rasped in a throat too dry for speech, but there was a shade of familiarity to it. “You can go no farther. Turn back.” The trees behind it trembled, disgorging a company of elves. Their clothing was ragged and dirty, their skin pasty-pale. Wrongness permeated the clearing. I readied my bow.

“It is her,” Lexia said. She filled her hands with the hilts of her daggers. “Steel your hearts,” she told us. “She will find the smallest crack.”

“How do we fight her?” Eremil asked, readying his axes. He looked forward at the growing foe with hard blue eyes and face carved in stalwartness.

“We will not turn back,” I shouted. “You will not deceive me!” Fire stirred in my soul, recognizing the creature who had nearly sacrificed me to the flames to awaken the magic within me. More targets emerged from the trees to make an overwhelming force. The ghastly elves did not speak and made no move toward us, but their ominous presence left no doubt that their stillness was temporary.

“What you seek cannot be found in these mountains,” the figure rasped. It did not sound like the remembered honeyed tones of Sominette’s voice. Though the Mother I had once known was gone, I longed for her voice. I longed to see her face. Could it really be her beneath that cowl?

Your mother is dead, I told myself. Only the Darkness she became remains.

The hood hung low and I saw nothing of a face. Peering into the cowl made my skin crawl. Something was in there. Something dark. Something that bore no memory of being the woman I loved.

“We hunt the Scepter,” Lexia said, drawing herself up. “You will not bar our way.”

“Fear does not become you, daughter,” the figure laughed. “You can feel how strong I have become. Phoenix knows, better than anyone. Do you really think to stand against me?”

“I do,” Eremil growled. He held his axe across the pommel of his saddle. He was ready to fight. An army of twenty elves stood with the black-cloaked figure now. The pregnant stillness waited to birth violence. But not yet. Eremil shifted, both of his axes gripped in tendon-backed hands.

“None of this is real,” the figure rasped in that almost familiar, yet completely foreign, voice.

My blood ran cold. I knew these words.

“You lie,” Lexia hissed through gritted teeth. Her blades glinted. “You always lied.”

“Do I?” the figure laughed. The sound was like rocks in a dry bowl, grating against one another. The cloaked figure stretched black-clad arms to the sky. White palms glowed in the wan light and pale fingers made claws. The earth shook, trying to tear itself apart. Might reared, his white foot striking for the sky.

“What magic is this, Phoenix?” Eremil shouted. “This is not the power of a Mindwalker.”

The earth beneath us roared. The army of ghastly elves launched themselves forward, and Eremil launched Cinder into the fray. He laid about with flashing axes and the mare used teeth and hooves, rending putrid flesh from rotting bone.

I spurred Might forward to join the battle and elves squished beneath his huge hooves.

“Necromancy!” Lexia shouted. “She has turned to necromancy! They are all dead already.” Lexia screamed, launching herself into the sea of dead elves, hacking and slashing with her daggers. Pieces of elves writhed along the snow, inching toward me like the surf approaches at high tide.

I reached with my soul, unleashing the flames. Glorious fire tore through the bodies, flashing them to black ash.

The black cloaked figure laughed raggedly. “Pain is the key to the greatest magicks, is it not Phoenix?” the Darkness said. “You and I know that, intimately.”

“Is that the best you can do?” Lexia asked, wiping her brow with the back of an awful-stained hand. Fine black ash marred her cheeks.

“No,” the Darkness hissed. “Not even close.”

Huge, skeletal fingers of rock shot out of the ground, crashing into one another as they met high above our heads.

Bones rose from the heaving earth, joining together in grotesque parodies of what they had once been. A stag, a bear, and a wolf came together, their teeth snapping as they approached us. Eremil held his weapons as ready as Lexia’s twin daggers.

“Lexia,” I said. “Can you do anything?”

“I would have already if I could, Phoenix,” she snapped. “Her magic has grown.”

“You must try harder,” I told her. She nodded, her face a grim mask. Lexia’s face tensed with strain.

“I cannot…”she gasped. “There are two souls facing us in that body, not one. It is her, and someone else.”

“Two?” Eremil asked. But I could not think of whoever was trapped in that body with her. I had to have hope. I had to believe. I had to get us out of this.

“Brother,” I said to Might. The horse cocked an ear toward me. “Kick.”

Might laid his ears flat against his head and his muscles gathered. I felt jarring impact as the gelding’s strong back legs smashed into the stone ribs that held us. But they stood firm.

Dust fell on our heads and the skeletal animals advanced. Eremil’s axe ripped into the bear, severing the beast’s head from his neck. The disembodied head continued its advance, teeth snapping just as the severed pieces of the elves had continued to try to reach us. The stag lowered its head, sharp tipped horns aimed for my heart. In desperation, I fired an arrow. It glanced away.

The stone fingers shook and began to sink into the earth. Dirt spilled in between the fingers, filling the space in which we stood. The horses shied and trembled, finding no escape. We would be buried soon.

“No!” I screamed. Our quest could not end here. We had to find Light.

I reached forward with my soul, my magic, and lit the bones on fire. They fueled the flame, just as everything else did, but their essence was foul as it poured back into me. The world seemed to spin, Might tilting crazily to the side.

“That is not helping!” Eremil said, retreating from the now flaming bear. The stag charged. Lexia threw a dagger, but it glanced off. Everything moved too slowly and too fast at the same time. The flame roared and my heart grew sicker.

Hotter, I thought. Fire would save us. Heat rolled toward me from the animals. The bones began to melt, to disintegrate into charred black dust. My soul was fire, fueled by the flames I ignited. I pushed the flames of it into the rock trapping us. It pushed back putrid essence. I put both hands to my temples, trying to hold my brains in.

“The pain, Phoenix!” the Darkness laughed. “The pain makes you strong!”

“Phoenix,” Lexia gasped. “Phoenix, we are burning!”

I opened my eyes. The stone around us glowed red. Heat shimmered. I could melt this stone prison if I tried. It would move like water before my magic. My soul quivered in anticipation.

Eremil’s blue eyes met mine, his mouth hanging open gasping for breath. His cloak smoked. He shook his head.

I could make the rock hot enough to melt, but we would all die if I did.

“Shoot her,” Lexia said. Her words were like dawn in my head, parting the cloud of the evil magic I had absorbed. Why had I not thought of that before? I nocked an arrow and released in one motion, not pausing to aim. The shaft flew true, shooting between the stone fingers and embedding itself in the chest of the cloaked figure.

The world around us changed. My breath came easier, my head continuing to clear. The stone fingers stopped their descent into the earth, cracking and crumbling all around us. I sweated in the cold air.

My arrow stood out from the cloaked figure’s chest and it crumpled, falling on its face. I had expected it to disappear in a puff of smoke. The Darkness was a ghost, after all. But yet the body fell solidly to the earth.

There are two, Lexia had said. My blood turned cold.

“Nice shot,” Eremil said, smiling. His hair smoked a little.

“Phoenix!” Lexia shouted. “He lives!”

He? I wondered.

I ran to the downed figure, Eremil by my side, freeing his axes in but a few strides. With the toe of my boot I pushed the creature over. The cowl fell away from its face and I fell to my knees. He had a wise, kindly face with shining black eyes that were starting to glaze with impending death.

“Lucius!” Eremil cried, recognizing our friend. I pressed my hands over the wound which leaked Lucius’s life blood onto the unfeeling snow. Eremil wrenched the arrow free and Lucius screamed. Part of my soul seared the wound shut almost without me willing it to. Lucius struggled to breathe, but a smile quirked the corner of his bloody-lipped mouth. My aim was true.

“You brought me back,” he said, trying to smile but grimacing instead. “Thank you for that.”

“Why did you attack us?” I whispered. Lexia peered over my shoulder, then gasped and drew back. Though the blood had stopped, Lucius’s face was pale and wan.

“The Darkness, my prince…”he breathed. I heard gurgling in his exhalation. He would drown in his own blood. He coughed roughly, choking. “The Darkness came while I sought...you.” He coughed again.

Lucius laid a hand alongside my face, his fingers pressing into my flesh. Eremil moved to stop him, but I motioned him to a halt. Lucius’s eyes went wide. Black eyes stared into mine, but I did not see them. A landscape of sweeping red desert and a carved canyon bloomed in my mind. I looked down at it from a place high above. Sunlight suffused everything.

“Light is there,” Lucius groaned. “The Darkness. . . could not keep…it from me.”

Then he died. I closed my eyes, holding his still form to my chest. Behind me, Lexia sobbed.