A Song For Phoenixia

Phoenixia spread her wings wide, arching her long neck before straightening it out in a stretch. The rocks of her den still held warmth from when she had warmed them last night, breathing flame until they glowed red to keep out the winter chill that clung to the mornings and evenings of spring. Her wingspan almost reached the opposing walls of the cave here in her sleeping chambers, with just enough room to allow her to turn fully without scraping the walls. When the time came she would have to use a different branch of the cavern to lay and raise her brood. But that time wasn’t here yet.

Folding her wings back against her sides after a leisurely yawn, she lowered her head and trudged on foot through the narrow passage that opened up into the main cavern. Whether hewn naturally or shaped by another dragon long before her Phoenixia didn’t know, but she still enjoyed its comforts. A massive opening with plenty of room to curl figure eights, if she were inclined, the central cavern was home to massive stalactites and an underground river fed by a waterfall which came from an opening in the ceiling too small for Phoenixia to investigate. Its convenience in providing drinking water had long overtaken her curiosity.

Braxxas. He was the one who balked at her curiosity. Who defamed her searchings causing others who might have been willing to help shy away, for fear of receiving the same treatment. His chiding had forced her away from the brood; had forced her here. And in a way, Phoenixia considered, she owed him for that. Let him have his tunnels and his burrows, and let the brood dig with him to the center of the earth; Phoenixia couldn’t leave the sky.

Scraping herself against her favorite outcropping she listened to the crackle of dry scales coming free of her hide and raining down. There were more every day; maybe only a month more before her final molt. Then she would be an adult, ultimately free of the brood and and able to live how she wished.

With a mighty leap she extended her wings then glided down to the main entrance of the cave, a small tunnel barely wide enough to admit her, even with wings folded. She had passed it three times during her initial search for a home, believing it too small, and she took some comfort that any other rogue would most likely think the same. With her tense seperation from the brood she thought it unlikely any would answer her call should a territorial dispute arise, and without regular sparring practice she was more than a little rusty.

Phoenixia let her head scrape along the roof of the entry tunnel as she headed out, letting its rough surface scrape any dry scales away. Once she was satisfied she twisted her serpentine neck to do the same against the rock walls. The gray light from the tunnel’s mouth told her it was almost sunset and her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Time for breakfast.

She emerged from the cave, brushing aside another stray throught of motherhood as she did, and took flight with a mighty downstroke of her wings. The land receeded beneath her as she stroked for altitude, wondering which way to scout this evening. Game had become increasingly scarse since she had inhabited the cavern and she had little clue why.

The open air felt good beneath her wings, cool and full of movement this morning. Stretching wide she set out at a lazy glide, her shadow sliding silently along the ground beneath her. Rocks permeated the green grasses and sparse bushes of the highland country like the petrified corpses of a subterranean troll army.

Phoenixia dipped to follow her preferred hunting ground, a swift shallow stream that cut a path through the hills. From experience she knew the animals would be headed to water down before retiring for the evening.

It was there, high above the stream, that the vibrations first found her ears. A simple ripple so perfect Phoenixia’s heart lept within her as it tickled through her brain. The voice pure and sweet, peaceful and lovely.

Phoenixia had heard music before, in the broodhome, and had even sung with her brethren, adding her roar to the Song to Shake the Heavens. But to feel this tune course through her bones struck her as though she had never heard before this moment.

All thoughts of her hunger faded, and she resolved to find the source.

She followed the melody down the stream, lowering her altitude to ensure she didn’t lose the vibrations. The bones of her jawline hummed with them, pleasure tickling across her brain in a sparkling stroll.

The creature making the beautiful noises was so small Phoenixia almost passed it by. Pink like a pig in parts, the thing also had strange broad feathers covering most of its body. Phoenixia thought the feathers were almost as though someone had flattened the clouds and wrapped oneself in them. It’s head (or so Phoenixia took it to be,) was covered in a waterfall of blonde-brown fur that ran down it’s back. The hole in it’s head resembled a mouth, but with flat teeth.

‘It must eat grass, like the cows,’ Phoenixia thought to herself.

The beautiful vibrations she had followed were coming from the creature’s mouth hole.

Phoenixia pulled up her flight, spreading her broad wings to catch herself from overshooting the pink creature-who-sang. With a couple quick flaps she alighted onto the hill just behind where the creature-who-sings sat perched on some of the grey stone boulders.

The creature, suddenly eclipsed by Phoenixia’s shadow, turned to regard the dragon. It’s eyes grew greatly in size and the vibrations it had been making ceased. In their place the creature began making a new noise, this one much higher-pitched and harsh, a gasping sort of bark that grated on Phoenixia’s listening bones like pumice.

Leaping to its legs it began to run from her.

Phoenixia was disappointed. She hadn’t meant to interrupt the creature-who-sings, nor had she intended to frighten it away.

“Please,” she roared. “Please don’t go. Sing again!”

The creature-who-sings continued it’s sprint away from Phoenixia, though with it’s small legs it did not travel very fast. It did glance over it’s shoulder, its eyes growing even wider at her pleading roars.

‘This will not do,’ Phoenixia thought to herself, spreading her wings for a hop that took her over the head of the creature-who-sings and directly into it’s path. The thing tumbled to a halt in front of her, some of it’s flat feathers sprawling over it’s head.

“Don’t be afraid,” Phoenixia roared at it.

The creature-who-sings pulled the feathers from over it’s head. It’s eyes appeared to be leaking.

“That’s right,” Phoenixia growled in what she hoped was a comforting manner, lowering her head toward the creature-that-sings. “Hello there, little one.”

The creature-who-sings made the higher-pitched noise again, drawing this one out. Phoenixia grimaced but held her ground, hoping a show of good faith would calm the small creature.

A second barking answered this time, this one coming from Phoenixia’s flank. It was lower than the first creature’s noise, but clearly made by the same type on animal. This noise, however, was accompanied by a sudden sharp stinging sensation in one of her haunches, as though a bloodfly had bit her.

Startled at the pain, Phoenixia spun about, looking for the source. As she spun she felt her tail glance off an obstacle. She completed her circut in time to see a second creature-who-sings, this one with much shorter fur that covered it’s entire head, collapsing underneath one of the long-necked cows she had occasionally found to eat. The long-neck added it’s own screaching to the noises of the new creature-who-sings, thrashing about on top of it.

Phoenixia, worried the writhing long-neck might hurt this new creature, diped her neck down and lifted the long-neck from it with her teeth. The long-neck only thrashed for a moment between her fangs before it was still.

The new creature-who-sings made only quiet sounds now, moving little.

Suddenly aware that the first had ceased making noise as well, Phoenixia felt a sensation creeping through her talons. Sticky, yet also crunchy, as though she had  tread on a forest made of bee sap. She retreated a step or two to see that she had indeed stepped on the first creature-who-sings in her surprise.

The poor animal had been crushed, Phoenixia’s weight turning it from vibrating beauty to a mangled pile of meat in a spreading pool of pink and red.

Heartsickness gripped her. It had been such an ugly creature, true, but it had sung so beautifully. Such gentle majesty out of so small a thing.

A rumbling in her stomach reminded her of why she had left her cave this morning, and with a heavy heart and empty ears Phoenixia took to the skies again, wheeling around to follow the stream.

…….

That night as Phoenixia slept in her den, she dreamed. She saw her father, a powerful spellcaster and scientist of the art. She saw her mother, tender and kind, yet fearsome and far more viscous than any male when roused.

But when she woke, she held no memories of these things. She recalled only one face.

The face of the broodmother.

…….

That morning, Phoenixia flew home.

…….

The Stone Guard were the first to meet her as Phoenixia flew into her brood’s territory. Brothers and sisters who perched at the edge of firemountains day after day, the heat baking their scales to strength neither tooth nor talon could tear, each taking pride in lasting a little bit longer at the lip of the mountain. These were their foreguard, their elite soldiers.

“Who’s is the sky?” one of the three Stone Guards growled to Phoenixia formally.

“This sky is Maor’s, and kin of her brood,” Phoenixia answered just as formally. Stone Guards were known for their lack of humor.

“Phaderus will escort you,” the Stone Guard stated, leaving no room for question.

A Stone Guard peeled off from the group and dropped into a steep dive, Phoenixia following. She could recall not so long ago when it would have been a single Stone Guard who would have met her. Things must have grown even more dire in the short time she had been away.

Phaderus led her through the steep canyon walls she had flown a thousand times over, never casting a glance behind him. At the entrance to the broodhome he landed, hardened claws gouging the rock of the gaping opening.

“Who seeks the refuge of Maor?” he asked.

“Phoenixia, her second-daughter,” Phoenixia answered meekly.

“Then enter the den of your broodmother, Phoenixia, and may the skies be yours.”

“May the skies be yours,” she echoed meekly as he flew back the way they had just come.

Four more Stone Guards, perched two to either side, stood watch over the entrance. They watched her with careful disinterest as Phoenixia pulled into a glide and entered her former home.

…….

Maor’s Den was massive. Home to her brood of a ten thousand strong, what had started as a series of natural volcanic caves had been shaped and engineered over the centuries until the mountain range they belonged to was honeycombed with caverns.

Phoenixia threaded effortlessly through the maze of stone colums, growling greeting occasionally to those she passed. She knew few of her cousin’s names but recognized most of them. That no one greeted her was evidence enough that her abandonment of the broodhome had not gone forgotten.

Until Lyxx found her.

“Phoenixiaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!” Lyxx swooped from somewhere above her, screaming Phoenixia’s name and tackling her mid-air. Together they tumbled downward, a tangle of wings and claws, the seriousness of Phoenixia’s errend temporarily forgotten in the embrace of her friend.

“Lyxx! Let go!” Phoenixia hollered good-naturedly.

Lyxx released her suddenly, spreading her wings to catch herself.

“You’re back! What are you doing back?! Braxxas…” Lyxx spoke excitedly, but Phoenixia cut her off.

“I’m not here for long. Braxxas doesn’t even need to know I was here until I’m gone.”

“But your mother…” Lyxx started.

“…roosts with Braxxas. And is no longer my mother,” Phoenixia stated sternly, sweeping her wings to resume her course.

Recognizing the sensetivity of the subject Lyxx, wheeled around and kept pace.

“Where are you staying?” she asked.

“I found a cave. In the highlands,” Phoenixia glanced at her friend and saw concern marring her features. “It is well hidden and easily defensible, Lyxx. And farther north than almost anyone has traveled. Zalasphar and his brood would have to cross our entire territory to get to me. I’m fine.” She considered the amount of room she had to herself and continued. “In fact, I’ve got plenty of room if you want to come stay with me.”

“Go rogue?” Lyxx’s voice pitched higher, surprised at the suggestion. “I couldn’t! I mean, you know I love you Phen, but…” Lyxx took a deep breath, “I’m betrothed.”

“What??” now it was Phoenixia’s voice who grew higher in surprise. “To who? Since when?”

“To Marsus. Just this last moon. I didn’t know where you were to tell you…”

“Congratulations! We’ll have to celebrate…” Phoenixia cut Lyxx off, then remembered the creature-who-sings and her errand. “Just… not right now.”

Lyxx cast a sidelong glance at her friend. “You didn’t come back just to visit.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No,” Phoenixia admitted. “I came for my father’s things.”

“Braxxas took them. Did something with them. I don’t know what. I was visiting your mother as he was,” Lyxx told her.

“Do you know where he is now?”

“The Cavern of War, most likely, he…”

Phoenixia was already spiraling away from her friend even as Lyxx continued to speak.

“The sooner I get them from him the sooner I can be done with him. Forever,” Phoenixia called over her shoulder. “We’ll get together soon!”

…….

Phoenixia found Braxxas in the Cavern of War just as Lyxx had said. He stood clustered with several other males regarding something Phoenixia had no interest in.

“Braxxas. Where are my father’s things?” Phoenixia spoke over the male who had been speaking.

“Phoenixia. Welcome back. You can see I’m…” Braxxas’ voice, deep even for a male, held no warmth for her.

“All I want are my father’s writings, Braxxas,” she interrupted him. “After that I will be gone and you will be rid of me. For good.”

“Phoenixia, that is hardly what I want.” the males with Braxxas were looking at him uneasily now, their planning temporarily forgotten.

“My father’s things, Braxxas. And I will leave you in peace,” Phoenixia demanded.

Braxxas sighed.

“I moved your father’s things into my den at the request of your mother. They are at a cavern towards the rear. You may retirive them if you wish; I have no use for them.”

Phoenixia grew angry at this. This was the Braxxas she hated. To others he sounded wise and magnanimous, but she knew his intimation. He had never supported her father’s pursuit of the magical sciences, often referring to him as foolish when he believed Phoenixia wasn’t listening. He knew how to manipulate the situation to make whoever opposed him seem the enemy, and Phoenixia was long past trying to prove otherwise. Turning her back without reply she set to flight before he could say anything else.

…….

Barxxas’ den was empty when Phoenixia arrived, a small gift as far as she was concerned. The last thing she wanted to do was get into yet another argument with her mother; they both had made their choices.

Searching from cavern to cavern she finally located her fathers things in the rearmost opening irrevently tossed in a pile. The cavern was clearly the worst in the den, dank and cold and wet. She felt a mix of sadness as she dug through the pile; many of the writings had become warped and smudged beyond reading. It took her longer than she had hoped, but she eventually uncovered what she was looking for: her father’s collection of successful experiments. Seeing it brought immediate memories of her father  bent precariously over skins breathing thin lines of flame into the fresh hides to document his processes.

“You’ve got to write it down, Phoenixia. Every success as well as every failure. Otherwise it will pass on, and our people have allowed too much to pass already,” he had told her.

Using the foreclaws on the tips of her wings, Phoenixia gingerly transferred the bundle of writings into a one of the many empty sacks she found strewn around the room. She tried not to wonder what had inhabited the empty bags at one time; too much had been allowed to pass indeed.

Seeking to leave Braxxas’ cave, Phoenixia stopped short by the appearance of a Stone Guard at the entrance just as she was preparing to exit.

“Maor has called for you, daughter,” the Stone Guard told her.

“…me?” Phoenixia asked, taken aback.

“By name,” the Stone Guard said. He lept from the ledge and hovered, powerful wings sweeping in deep swishing noises, waiting for Phoenixia to follow.

Shaking her head so the strap of her sachel would settle comfortably around the base of her neck and hang to her chest, Phoenixia joined the Stone Guard in flight.

“This way,” he instructed, whirling about and taking a course.

…….

“Ah, welcome daughter,” Maor said in greeting as Phoenixia was ushered into her chamber. The broodmother’s age showed in the dull lustre of her scales and the battle-drawn tears in her wingleather. She lay curled on a flat bed of rock surrounded by a moat of flame. Keeping her cold blood warm in her age, Phoenixia assumed.

Maor’s bright eyes watched Phoenixia taking in the scene. “Your father made this bed for me, you know,” She told the younger dragon. “He burned very bright, during his time.”

“Yes, broodmother,” Phoenixia cast her eyes to the floor. She didn’t know what sort of protocol she should be observing with her answers.

“I hear you have been unhappy with you mother taking Braxxas as a mate,” Maor said, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

“You… have heard of this?” Phoenixia asked, confused. Their brood was over ten thousand strong, or so she had heard. To think that the broodmother kept track of her…

“I am aware of the dealings of all my children,” Maor told her. “Though, some make more noise than others.” she said with a hint of a smile.

Phoenixia felt her scales flatten in embarrassment.

“Your father was of great value to me,” Maor continued. “With so few of our race born with the blood for sorcery these days, having a son so dedicated and talented was a great blessing. You are not the only his death weighs on.”

Shame joined her embarrassment. “Yes, broodmother,” Phoenixia said quietly.

“Braxxas and his ilk are necessary to protect the brood. Without sorcerers to rely on for our warfare, brute force is all we have left.” Maor paused, but Phoenixia made no reply.

“I am sure you wonder why I called you to me this day?” Maor asked.

Phoenixia nodded. “Yes, broodmother.”

“I have made inquiries, amongst the other broods.” Maor sighed. “Your father was not only the last of our sorcerers, Phoenixia. He was the last of them all.”

The heaviness of Maor’s words hung in the air, sinking in slowly for Phoenixia. Without sorcerers to assist the broodmothers in egglaying, they would be reduced to laying a single egg in their lifetime. And if that were the case…

“Yes,” Maor said finishing Phoenixia’s thought out loud. “Our race is dying. It has already begun. But I have hope. For you have your father’s spirit, and his blood. I saw both of them when you abandoned the den rather than suffer Braxxas. So I ask you now, daughter: will you, even in your freedom, seek to help us?”

Phoenixia was taken aback. To have that kind of responsibility…

“I ask only, daughter. I expect nothing,” Maor told her. “You have left the brood, and for good reason. You owe us no allegience.”

“I…” Phoenixia started, still reeling from the broodmother’s forthright explination. “I will do what I can, broodmother.”

“That is all I ask daughter,” Maor blew two small trails of smoke through her nostrils.

They stood in silence for a bit, each stewing in her own thoughts. Phoenixia struggled with so many conflicting emotions. And as she wrestled, the song of the singing creature began to echo in her thoughts.

“Mother,” Phoenixia spoke, “near my den, to the north, I encountered a creature I have never known before. It was small, with soft pink flesh. It made the most beautiful noises, though less so when I frightened it. As you know so much…?”

“Ah,” Maor frowned. “I have heard of these creatures. They are called ‘man.’ Alphasannas’ brood has nearly been overrun with them to the far east. They are fragile things, easily damaged and too bony for meat. But they have minds as sharp as our own and have killed several of Alphasannas’ brood with weapons and clever tricks. Be wary of them. You are the first of us to explore north in my lifetime; there is no telling how many of them there might be.”

“Yes, broodmother. I will be careful.”

“Then go, daughter. Return to me if you uncover any knowledge that might help us.”

“Thank you, broodmother. May the skies be yours.”

…….

Phoenixia’s long flight back to her den was crowded with tumultous thoughts. Her race was dying; she, who had forsaken them all because of Braxxas and his close-mindedness might now be their only hope. She, a daughter not even of full-molt.

As she wrestled with these things, the song from the creature-that-sings returned to her again and again. Though as before it held beauty, now it held a nagging urgency. Yet, Phoenixia could not discern it’s secret.

‘You know something,’ she adressed the melody in her mind. ‘What is it?’

But the melody didn’t respond.

It was only a song.

…….

The next morning Phoenixia spread out her father’s burnings before her within her sleeping chamber.

“You must have seen it,” she muttered to his ghost. “You must have known. You always knew.”

She took few breaks that first day. Fewer still on the second. But by her fifth day of study she had grown restess and hungry. Frustrated and irritable, she abandoned her den and took to the sky.

…….

Her thoughts returned to her encounter with the man-creatures as she coasted above the bubbling stream below. The one who sang had been alone, surrounded by a flock of smaller horned goats, and had traveled slowly on it’s own legs when frightened by her. The other, however, had traveled on a long-neck. Phoenixia had occasionally chased long-necks in the fields where they lived in her younger days, and she knew the speed they were capable of. If the man-creatures rode on long-necks often, they could travel far greater distances than on their own. This could mean that their settlement was far further from her cave than she had traveled. Phoenixia considered to herself: if that were the case, perhaps she should know a little more about her neighbors before she settled in much further?

And perhaps she could hear their song again.

Pushing thoughts of hunting away, she elected instead to follow the stream, thinking it the most logical path; after all, all creatures needed water.

…….

It took her several more hours of flying before she smelled the smoke of their settlement. A hint on the breeze, nothing more. But her nostrils knew the scent well enough to know she was headed in the right direction.

The den of the man-creatures looked very strange to Phoenixia as she drew close. It was a collection of stumpy hills they had made themselves, with cut trees forming their roofs. Holes in the hills were everywhere, some larger than the men, some small. Phoenixia supposed these small holes were for their young.

And the young! She saw them swarming everywhere amidst the dirt tracks that ran between the man-dwellings. Some saw her shadow pass over them and made noises far more shrill than the creature-that-sang.

‘So many!’ Phoenixia thought to herself. ‘They already number the size of a small brood!’

Some of the larger man-creatures, the ones with the shorter fur covering their heads, followed the screams of their young and sighted her as well as she returned for a second pass. These made barking noises similar to the one she had seen on the long-neck, calling out in their strange rough voices and pointing their leatherless wings at her passing. A few of the short-furs threw sticks in her direction, but Phoenixia flew too high for their reach as she strafed their den again and again, trying to learn all she could.

Some short-furs, mounted on long-necks, were marshaling the long-furs and the young into a group at the far end of their den. These set out along a well-worn dirt track which led away while a larger gathering of short-furs swelled into a group on the outskirts of their den. Phoenixia followed their path with her eyes as she flew, and was astounded.

There, on a hill not far from their den, the man-creatures were constructing a cave.

They had formed huge walls by piling small stones one upon another until they stood beyond four man-creatures high. Four round stalagmites stood at each edge of the wall, these rising far higher still. These stalagmites were all hollow and seemingly unfinished, each standing jagged at a different height.

The walls and the stalagmites stood only to surround the main cavern, a massive sprawling pile of stones that rose and fell in height like waves from the ocean. Phoenixia marveled at the incredible structure. For creatures so small and weak  to create such large cave must have taken an incredible amount of time.

From her vantage about she could see they had constructed several smaller caverns within the stone cave. Some had more of the cut trees covering them but enough stood open to the sky that Phoenixia recognized their purpose.

The man-creatures meant to inhabit the thing.

An unpleasant feeling in her stomach reminded Phoenixia of her real reason for leaving her own cave. Dipping down to collect a few of the goats that were scattered about the man-creature’s den she peeled around to follow the stream back home, chewing as she flew.

Seeing the man-creature’s incredible cavern had given her much to think about.

…….

That night, settled in among the writings of her father, Phoenixia found her answer.

…….

She arose early the next dusk, vibrant with plans. She paused to enjoy the sensation of her cavern waterfall cascading over her scales before finishing the remains of the last night’s goats and hurrying out into the  day. Her father’s spell had been very specific, and she would have to travel many lengths to obtain the proper components before the new moon rose that evening. She didn’t understand her father’s explanation entirely of why the spell could only be accomplished during the new moon, but she trusted his knowledge. It WOULD be successful. And she would return to the brood a hero, savior of their race and championing her father’s work. Braxxas would be shamed; Maor would be grateful.

And hopefully her mother would see what a fool she had been.

Phoenixia flew to a part of the brood’s canyon unguarded by the Stone Guards but rich in memories of childhood. He father had often taken her here to collect the crystals which lined the gullies of this part of the canyon, explaining that the crystals had been formed long ago by the ambling runoff of the fire mountains. She had grown up toting progressively heavier bags of them back to their cave and watched in fascination as her father made them arc with lightnings of all different colors. Now it was she who was on the hunt for the perfect specimens,  with only memories to guide her.

Her collection of five took her much longer than she had anticipated, and the sun was already beginning to set when she returned to her cave. She bypassed it, having curled the skin with her father’s spell into the bag it now shared with the crystals, and continued on towards the den of the men-creatures.

It was the last ingredient, she knew, that would be the most complex.

…….

The sky had bled from blue to deep red as she approached the den of the men-creatures. Already the first star had appeared in the sky, winking like one of the crystals she carried. Phoenixia flew high, hoping the settling darkness would mask her approach and not alarm the creatures.

They milled about far below her, some wandering between their hills, others out among the goats. Even at this height Phoenixia could see the young, their shadows far shorter than their fully-grown counterparts, weaving in and out of every activity.

Now, to pick a good one…

She saw a longer-furred man-creature out on the edge of the settlement, out even past where the goats clustered.

This would be her target.

Flexing her claws in anticipation, Phoenixia pulled around in a tight circle and dove, pulling her wings tight to her sides. The wind pulled at her scales as luxuriant speed washed over her. Having experienced the fragility of the man-creatures first hand, she knew she must be gentle.

The ground rushed up at her like a hungry predator as she braced herself  for her next maneuver. Throwing her wings wide she sailed smoothly into a strafing run, and with claws extended she swooped the long-furred man-creature into her palm and took to the sky again even as the first alarmed warning barks began to ring out.

The long-furred man-creature struggled against her grip at first but as Phoenixia gained altitude it’s struggles turned into a fierce grip around one of her talons. Phoneixia took this as a good sign that she had not harmed the creature.

“Do not worry little one,” Phoenixia roared reassuringly, “I only need your for a moment. Then you will be free again.”

With one eye on the darkening sky, Phoenixia set flight for the man-creature’s cave.

…….

With two quick brushes of her wings Phoenixia landed with a hop, making sure to keep her claw that held the man-creature from colliding with the stones. From the inside the man-creature’s false cavern was even more impressive, and Phoenixia marveled at the amount of effort the creatures had put into stacking stone onto stone to create the place.

Balancing carefully on one leg with wings outstretched to keep herself from toppling, Phoenixia lowered herself until the satchel she wore containing the crystals she had collected rested on the stone floor of the cavern. Phoenixia dipped her neck to the ground and pulled out of the leather strappings.

She could hear the long-furred man-creature making it’s high barking sound from within her grasp, and it occurred to her she may have gripped it too hard. Setting the creature carefully to the stone Phoenixia backed away so she could regard it.

The man-creature, finding itself once again on solid ground, began to scurry away from her at once. Gaining it’s legs it ran towards a large opening set into one wall of the cavern. Phoenixia blew a quick puff of fire towards the door hoping to dissuade the man-creature’s retreat.

It worked. The man-creature froze in it’s tracks.

“Please, I mean you no harm,” Phoenixia roared to the creature which grabbed it’s head at the sound of her voice. “I know of no other way to ask for your help.” The creature turned wide-eyed to stare at Phoenixia, still grasping it’s head. Phoenixia could see it didn’t understand her. With a frustrated growl Pnoenixia nosed open her satchel and began to remove the five crystals she had selected for the evening. “This will all be over soon,” Phoenixia told the man-creature, hoping to sound reassuring.

With an eye on the sky that was retreating from deep blue to black Phoenixia set up her crystals at five different points within the huge cavern. Then, taking a mouthful of the ingredients her father had instructed from her sachel she chewed, grimacing at the taste.

‘No wonder father ate whatever was offered to him, if he could stand the taste of this stuff!’ Phoenixia thought to herself.

After she had chewed the mixture to paste she established herself in the center of the crystals and blew a thin stream of fire, turning on axis as she did. This carved a dark circle around the perimeter of where the crystals stood. It’s purpose served, Phoenixia spit the mashed mess into a shadowed corner of the man-creature’s cavern.

Then she waited.

It took only moments before the crystals began to hum, a low droning noise that rose steadily in pitch as the last vestiges of color drained from the sky and the stars burned their way through the darkness in force. The long-furred man-creature continued to hold it’s head, beginning to make its grating high barks again but remaining where it stood outside the circle.

The crystals began to pulse internally with light as the hum grew to fill the room. Snatches of lightning sparked out in arcs and the man-creature turned again to run. This time Phoenixia didn’t need to block it, as a stray tongue of electricity shot from the nearest crystal and caught the man-creature by surprise. A second licked out to catch Phoenixia as well, and she felt a shudder pass through her body.

‘I’ve done it,’ she thought to herself as more lightning lept from the crystals to dance across her scales. ‘I’ve saved my people. My father’s blood runs true within me.’

She began to feel faint even as euphoria shuddered through her. Now the crackling bolts which leaped from the crystals were so bright and so quick she pressed her eyes shut against them. The droning hum drown out all other noises leaving Phoenixia unsure if the long-furred man-creature was still barking.

With the room shaking from the sound and her eyes blinded from the hot light of the magic all around her, Phoenixia slipped into unconsciousness.

…….

Phoenixia awoke to the coldness of the stone she lay on seeping through her scales. A tingling sensation danced across her body even as it faded. She opened her eyes and she knew she had been successful.

Her new body stretched out before her along the stone floor of the man-creature’s false cavern. Flesh as milky white as moonlight covered her now, soft and warm to the touch. Gone were the leather of her wings and her short powerful legs, replaced by lengthy and gracefully curved appendages. Her wings now ended in flattened claws with five elegant digits which she maneuvered in a waving motion one by one.

She was transformed.

Hesitantly, she placed one wingclaw to the ground and pulled her new legs beneath her. Shakily pressing against the cold stone with her new wings, she stood.

The crystals were burnt to the last, smoky and cracked from their performance. The long-haired man-creature lay where she had fallen outside the circle, feathers rising and falling.

It was still alive.

With a start Phoenixia realized just how truly cold she had grown and curled her wings around her. Her arms brushed over two rosy-tipped lumps that hung from her chest with the motion and she started in surprise at the sensation.

This was going to take some getting used to.

Rubbing her shoulders with her wingclaws to make friction, she received another surprise; long fur like the man-creature’s but as black as her scales hung from her head. Turning her head this way and that, she could feel the gentle brush of it travel across her back. Keeping her wingclaws on her shoulders she played some of the fur between them. It was soft and slick, like nothing she had felt before.

With a sharp intake of breath the long-furred man-creature awoke with a start and sat up. Her eyes, foggy for a moment, gazed wildly around the room until they setteled on Phoenixia in her new form.

And to her surprise, Phoenixia could understand her.

“Who…?” the long-furred man-creature’s eyes peered searchingly around the made cavern again before returning to Phoenixia, “Where… where did the monster go? Who are…” It’s eyes fell to the burnt crystals and followed the scorched ruts that had burned in the cobblestones to where Phoenixia stood, epicenter to the charred web. The long-haired man-creature’s eyes grew wide in fright. “…you?” it whispered.

“I hope I did not hurt you,” Phoenixia told the man-creature, surprised at the pleasant lilt of her own voice. “It was not my intent to frighten you, either. I tried to be as gentle as possible, but you are very small. Are you well?”

“I…” the long-furred man-creature’s brows furrowed. Phoenixia was charmed by the movement.

“Please,” Phoenixia continued, “my people, we are dying. Can you tell me; how do you have so many young?”

A sudden clatter arose as several short-furred men-creatures came running from the darkness of a nearby tunnel. Some held pieces of silvered steel; others sticks with silver talons on their ends.

“Rosamund!” one shouted, running to the long-furred man-creature and scooping it up in it’s leatherless wings.

“Phillip!” the long-furred man-creature exclaimed back, throwing her own wings around the other.

While this took place the dozen or so other men-creatures that had come with the man-creature Phillip had gathered together in a loose bunch just to the inside of the cavern. Some of these watched Rosamund and Phillip, but some had now taken notice of Phoenixia.

“Whossat?” one of them said, leveling it’s wing in Phoenixia’s direction.

Rosamund’s voice rose as she pushed Phillip away from her. “It’s the monster! Phillip! The creature! It changed to look as us somehow! There was light everywhere and I…”

Phillip rounded on Phoenixia, brandishing the piece of steel he carried.

“Crush my sister and then take my wife?!” Phillip hollered. Phoenixia felt the heat of his anger as though he were breathing fire. She took a few steps back.

“Please…” she began, but Phillip shouted over her.

“Silence fel witch! You’ll kill no other with your sorceries! Nyeeeeah!”

Phillip advanced in a rush. Grabbing Phoenixia’s shoulder he forced the piece of steel he held into her chest and out again through her back.

Stunned, Phoenixia stumbled back from Phillip. Some of the onlookers gasped as she clumsily grabbed for the handle protruding from her chest. Once and twice her hands brushed the stiff ‘T’ of the hilt before her new legs, suddenly without feeling, gave way under her. She fell to the stone floor of the cavern, finding it growing colder still.

She could see from her skewed vantage as the long-furred man-creature Rosamund buried it’s face into Phillip’s shoulder, very close to where the metal protruded from Phoenixia’s own.

“Take your malevolence with you to hell,” Phillip muttered.

Phoenixia didn’t hurt, exactly. It was more as if she were falling asleep  and growing colder at the same time. She felt herself slipping, slipping to somewhere else. Not knowing what to do, she seized upon the one thing that came to mind. The one thing she had dreamed of from the moment she had persued her wild plan to save her people.

Pressing her lips together she hummed the song she had heard the man-creature singing what seemed like an eternity ago.

She did not sing long.

…….

Phillip held Rosamund’s face to his chest until the creature’s chest stopped moving. For a moment he thought he heard it trying to cast some final spell or devilry, but the sound drifted off before it could reach his ears. Gently, he released his grip on Rosamund.

“Peace, love,” he told her. “it is dead.”

“Oh Phillip,” Rosamund said. New tears had begun to pool at the sides of her eyes. “I thought it would eat me. And then it blew it’s fire and I was so scared…”

“Shhhhhhhh…” Phillip shushed her. “We will speak of it tomorrow, after you have slept.” He looked around the room with a grimace. “We will have much to do as we talk, it seems. I would hate for our lordship to arrive and find his castle so defiled.”

Rosamund nodded, leaning into her husband as he threw his arm around her shoulder and guided them back through the hall’s entrance.

The others followed a few moments later.

 

Original Photo by AMigill. Used with permission.