Born of the Phoenix

by Forrester, David Murray

  "I've always wanted to go to Ruscarne."

  "So why don't you?" asked Crystal, her blonde hair illuminated by the lightening.

  "It's the ocean you know, and the O'shaku, I just couldn't do it," she had an intense fear of the ocean, and the monsters that dwelt below its glassy surface. Sharks haunted her dreams, though she admired them greatly they brought such terror to her heart. "I don't trust the ships to get me there."

  "You’re right to fear the ocean, the waters are no place for man," said Akella drawing thoughtfully from her cigar, "I’ve seen O’shaku tear ships apart, great ships that men believed to be indestructible."

  "A few years back Pasty and I heard about an O'shaku that had arisen from the ocean and wandered ashore in Cortainia. It took an army to bring it down and it's corpse was left beside some village, I can't remember the name of it now, we were in Delepode at the time so it was only a few days ride away so we went to have a look," the memories of the colossal beast were still fresh in her mind, "when we got there it's body was so massive, I couldn't believe it, and oh the smell, it was awful."

  "They’re really amazing creatures," said Akella, “it’s amazing how big they grow, the shorku are nothing compared to their ocean brothers.”

  Ravage's thoughts turned back to Sunderfall, the gears and cogs within her mind began churning. The images of Akella fighting came to her, the way she wielded Sunderfall with such ease. A weapon Ravage couldn't even hold. Akella's speed was incredible, her skill, her strength. There was something otherworldly about her, those keen eyes and the aura of dominance which surrounded her being.

  "You’re not human are you?" her question was like a spell of silence though the rain still sounded on the roof of the balcony.

  Akella looked across at her sister. "No, we're not human," she said meeting Ravage’s eyes, "we're Surangi from Pyrelle Island."

  The names were unknown to her. Ravage stared blankly at Akella as she ran the names through her mind. "Sorry but I can't say I've heard of your people before."

  "That’s not surprising," said Akella, "our people never come to Sapphiron, we have a bit of a grudge against you, well, not you in person, just your people in general."

  “Really?” Ravage found that curious, never having heard of the surangi before she wondered what grudge they could possibly hold.

  "There's a lot you don't know about Sapphiron's history, and we’re slow to forgive," her words were bitter, "we’ve been in Sapphiron for a couple of months now and I don’t mean to offend you by this but I understand why my people don’t like your race very much.”

  She hated to admit it but Ravage wasn’t the biggest fan of humanity either, especially lately. In the last century the morality of the population was in decline. Simple kindness and courtesy was hard to find, violence was increasing. People lived in fear and distrust of each other, in her heart Ravage wished things were different but simply wishing for things never turns them into reality.

  "I don’t blame you," she sighed. Ravage felt embarrassed and almost ashamed. Akella had displayed a kindness and strength that denoted benevolence; she was a true ambassador of the surangi. Humanity had the ability to achieve such great things yet there were those who sabotaged a peaceful and prosperous future with their blind ambitions and selfish greed, to an outsider humanity must seem like an ignorant and savage race.

  "I've also been hearing about something called the end of heroes, do you know what that's about?"

  "That’s only come about recently," said Ravage adjusting herself in her chair, "There are no great heroes anymore, not like there were in the past. Ikaria, Misanne, they were true heroes who inspired greatness in others. These days if you’re even remotely considered a hero you’re pretty much marked for death."

  “Marked for death?”

  “Everyone’s out to make a name for themselves. If you kill a hero or a champion you become infamous, people fear you, there are a lot of men out there who seek that infamy.”

  The downpour became heavier, torrential. Akella sat pondering Ravage’s words. The end of heroes; it didn’t bode well with her.

  “There is one woman though who despite all the shit going on still has the courage to claim the title of hero, her name is Tairrie, they call her the ruiner,” said Ravage and the memories of their meeting resurfaced in her mind.

  “The ruiner huh,” said Akella.

  “She’s a force to be reckoned with I’ll tell you what!” And she was. Tairrie the ruiner, Ravage admired her. “She actually saved mine and Patsy’s life a few years ago, I’ll never forget that.”

  “Sounds like an amazing woman.”

  "She is, but as far as the end of heroes is concerned I'm not expecting anything to change anytime soon," Ravage’s eyes began to feel heavy, the alcohol in her blood making her limbs call out for sleep, “Patsy and I do what we can to help people though I think all we’ve really done is make a long list of enemies." She stood, her bed beckoning to her. “I’m off to bed, thank you again for everything.”

  "You’re welcome," smiled Crystal, "thanks for sitting out here with us."

  "Sleep well." said Akella.

  With that Ravage retired for the night. Her pillow was soft and her bed wonderfully comfortable. Before she drifted off to sleep she had the realisation that they had killed Scarlet Blades. Sometime in the future the wolves would be at her door, hounding her for revenge, it made her smile, she could introduce them to the sharks.

  Rain continued pouring down. Crystal yawned and looked across at her sister who was lighting another cigar. "So we'll be heading to Leesa tomorrow."

  "I won't be joining you," said Akella.

  "What are talking about? Brackish is expecting us, he wants you with him when he goes to meet the four kings."

  Akella shook her head, blowing smoke from her lips. "I know he does, but diplomacy isn't really my thing, you know that."

  "You can't ignore his request."

  "Of course I can, he's not going to be worried, he knows I don't care about any of that stuff and I already told him I probably won't be joining him."

  Crystal shook her head. "Only you'd be brave enough to talk to him like that."

  "He’s actually really easy going you know, you shouldn't be worried about telling him how you feel, he’d never force us to do anything we don’t want to."

  "So if you're not coming back with us what are you going to be doing?"

  "Well I heard about a tourney happening in a colosseum near here so I'm going to go check it out. Then I want to visit Vanslutten which is supposed to be one of the oldest cities in Sapphiron."

  "Well you just better make sure you don’t miss my wedding.”

  “Of course I’m not going to miss my sister’s wedding,” It was about time Crystal and Jonathon finally were bonded with each other, they’d been together for over a decade already. “When are you going to do it?”

  "Jonathon said we'll have the ceremony once he gets back,"

  "Oh that's right, he's part of Brackish's entourage," Akella giggled, "so that's why you want me to go with him, to make sure nothing happens to your man!"

  "Shut up!" her cheeks flushed.

  "Don’t worry Crystal he’ll be safe with Brackish.”

  Yawning Crystal arose. “Time for bed I think, are you going to sit up much longer?”

  “Actually I was thinking about heading out of town now, I wouldn’t mind a stroll through this rain.”

  "You don't wana wait till the morning so you can say goodbye to Melody? The girl idolises you you know, she’ll be upset if you slip away without saying anything."

  "I know she does,” Akella didn’t want to hurt her feelings but the night was calling to her. “You look after her alright, and yourself, don't go getting up to too much mischief," Akella hugged her sister, she would miss her but knew she didn't have anything to worry about. Especially here, these humans weren't much of a threat to Crystal, not while she had Melody to watch her back.

  “Take care Akel
la, I love you.”

  “I love you too sis.”

  Donning her grey cloak Akella wrapped Sunderfall in the brown shaggy pelt of a forest shorku and slung the massive greatsword over her shoulder. She stood at the end of Melody's bed watching her sleep for a brief moment. Melody was the youngest of the trio. Akella saw great potential in the young warrior. She was intelligent, courageous and strong. Akella had grown very fond of her, she was happy that Crystal would have her as a travelling companion on the way back to Leesa. She smiled down at her friend before departing the room.

  Once outside the rain pattered down upon her cloak, she removed her hood to feel the cool water on her face and slowly began walking out of town, her feet splashing through the puddles. As she reached the main road heading east there came a muffled voice on the rain calling out to her. Sitting by the trunk of an aged and haggard tree was a man. He was shirtless, his thin toned chest covered in strange tattoos. Beside him stood a petite young woman, scantily dressed and gorgeous, her hair was partly shaved, partly long. She stared at Akella with haunting black eyes. The man called out to Akella again, gesturing her to join them, she obliged.

  "You want some, herbal tea?" he asked, raising a cup for her to take.

  "No thanks," said Akella raising a bottle of whiskey from under her cloak, "I'm pretty set,"

  "That you are," he swallowed the tea in one mouthful.

  "If you go down that road all you'll find is pain, misery and regret," the young woman's was voice cold and foreboding, "in agony you will wallow in the folly of your actions, unable to change that which has befallen."

  "Is that a threat?" Akella stood over the girl.

  "It's a message," said the man pouring himself another cup of tea, "from the other side,"

  "The other side," mused Akella, so they were clairvoyants.

  "They talk to me," said the young woman, her voice had changed, it sounded sweet, adorable, "the spirits, they like you, but they see dark things in your future, you should listen."

  "Spirits, I've learnt not to trust them, they're deceivers whose words are crooked with lies to make us stray from our true paths."

  A fierce wind blew. Akella was assaulted by a blast of rain which took the ghostly form a spirit passing through her. The sensation chilled her to the core. She could sense an unearthly presence all around.

  "You shouldn't insult the spirits, they're always truthful to Larnii," said the man before downing another cup.

  "They don’t want you to suffer," said Larnii, "but they do at the same time, the voices are mixed, some beg you not to go forwards while others cry out for change."

  “Change?”

  Larnii shrugged. “Only you can find the meaning of their words.”

  Change; life was always bringing change.

  "Ninjune, give it to her," said Larnii.

  From a wooden box Ninjune produced a thin leather pouch and handed it to Akella. She opened it to discover a long black cigar and shook her head with a smile. Perhaps the spirits did know her after all.

  "That’s a special cigar," said Ninjune with a wink, "it'll put your head to rights and make you see the world through a new set of eyes."

  "A new set of eyes huh, thanks." Akella tucked it into her pocket,

  Larnii turned her head to the side listening to a spectral voice that only she could hear; nodding in agreement as it spoke to her.

  "They understand your blood gives you confidence but also makes you arrogant, they say your miserable fortune is inescapable despite all your great deeds, and they ask a request,"

  "They insult me and ask for favours," she smiled, "what do they want?"

  "Destroy the foundations."

  "The foundations of what?" Why do spirits always have to speak in riddles?

  In reply Larnii shrugged. A rhythmic drum beat began. Larnii's body moved in sync with the beat, stepping and swaying her hips seductively. Perched on a branch in the tree they were taking shelter under was a man, his face masked and his chest hairy. A small pair of drums balanced in his lap, his hands working magic across the skins to produce a captivating sound.

  "That’s your cue," said Ninjune lighting a cigar, "remember there's a lot of fucken scumbags out there so don't let em give you any shit."

  "I never do," Akella turned to Larnii; the girl was lost in the music as she danced to the rhythm. Her body was mesmerising to watch and she stood transfixed as if under the spell of a siren’s call. "She’s beautiful, like a butterfly,"

  "And she has my protection." There was strength and conviction in his words. Akella admired him; he was a unique and interesting individual.

  "Take care of yourselves."

  Lightning flashed overhead as Akella walked off into the darkness, rain still pouring down. She drew the hood of her cloak and tucked her arms close to her chest. Destroy the foundations; she pondered the words as she walked through the rain to greet the miserable fortune the spirits claimed lay in wait for her.

  Chapter 07

  The mountain ranges of northern Engalia are a perilous terrain of steep cliffs, deep chasms and volcanic plumes. Scattered across the rocky gorges and fathomless sloping ravines are countless caves and underground rivers, a labyrinth laden with secrets and treasures from ages long past. Hideous beasts stalk the mountain passes stealing the life from any adventurer foolish enough to explore the mountains.

  Nestled amongst mountains and hidden behind a grove of broken and deformed trees is a valley in which lies the forsaken ruins of a forgotten monastery. It is a quiet valley of dense fog and foreboding shadows. Rivers of magma flow close to the grounds surface creating many heated mud springs and pools. In one such pool sat Baron Nade, eyes closed, arms folded behind his head.

  Mud was softly lapping around his neck, long hair partially submerged. The sound of footsteps roused him from his thoughts, opening one eye he saw Antonius walking towards him.

  "Sorry to disturb you my lord, we received a message from Menark this morning."

  "Ah the Fortress," Baron Nade didn't care too much for the man, he wasn't exactly captain material on the intelligence front but his subordinates feared him and enough gold flowed out of the city to warm the Barons disposition. He sat up. "And what does the meat head have to say for himself?"

  "He’s dead my lord, the whole garrison was wiped out."

  A garrison falling was unexpected; especially considering it was the Menark chapter. The Fortress was a formidable man and his soldiers were ruthless and deadly. The baron couldn’t think of anyone that would have the guile to challenge his forces, perhaps one of the other mercenary companies was trying to shift the balance of power in the region.

  "And who exactly is responsible?"

  "There isn’t a lot of information on who it was, our contact said it was a group of witches led by one Akella Terrifos.”

  Witches. The baron wondered what grievance would inspire such a bold move from those who rarely act so brazenly. Perhaps it was a message to Matearla; a challenge. There were many rival witches who wished to see her dead. "Fetch me Matearla."

  "My lord, Matearla was quite adamant about not wanting to be disturbed today." Antonius could see the displeasure on his master’s face; the Baron didn’t like being told no, especially from those under his command. "I'll bring her to you at once."

  Wandering through the monastery alone gave Antonius the chills. It was a harrowing old ruin. He had seen ghosts stalking the halls, their spectral bodies visible for only a second before fading to mist. At night strange chanting could be heard echoing up from the deep places. Often he had heard a soft whimpering, lonely cries that filled his mind with sorrow and despair. The noises that plagued him in his room as he lay in bed were the worst. Loud bumps and clawing at the walls and always the shadows would move. He shuddered as he made his way through the halls and corridors trusting to the pendant that hung from his neck. Matearla had told him it would keep him safe from the evil spirits; he hoped her words were true.

  There was no re
sponse to his knocks on her chamber door. Knocking again Antonius called out to the witch but again he was met with silence. Begrudgingly he pushed open the door and entered.

  It was a large chamber with many side rooms dimly lit with candles. Matearla's living space had always fascinated Antonius. There were shelves lined with glass jars full of strange and curious ingredients for her spell crafts. Charms and omens hung from the ceiling spinning slowly as by a gentle breeze. Bizarre artefacts and scrolls were littered across tables and benches; it always looked as though she was working on a new spell or incantation.

  Matearla was leaning over a mixing bowl grinding herbs together, buxom cleavage exposed; Antonius could not stop himself from staring. She had such perfect skin, long black hair which she braded with small purple and red flowers. Luscious blood red lips, her enchanting beauty was irresistible.

  "Good morning Matearla," he said with all the charm he could muster, "I know you didn't want to be disturbed today but our master wants to see you."

  Her eyes were disappointed when she saw him. "Oh Antonius, it was not for my benefit that I wanted solitude, but for yours."

  He looked at her puzzled then she gestured to the floor behind him. There was an intricate glyph of blue sand on the floor, several of the fine lines had been marred by Antonius's clumsy footsteps. Matearla sighed in annoyance.

  "I'm so sorry, I can't believe I didn't see that!" As he spoke a shadow began to form behind him taking the shape of a deformed phantom. Antonius felt the dark entity behind him, slowly he turned and was frozen in fear by the phantoms grotesque appearance. It wailed in agony and rage before tearing into Antonius's flesh with its ghostly fingers and he fell to the floor bleeding horrifically.

  The attack was brief. Antonius’s interruption had caused the phantoms body not to be fully conjured and shrieking it turned to dust which scattered across the ground.

  Matearla knelt over Antonius as he lay bleeding on the floor. She took his face into her hands with a gentle caress, her gaze full of sympathy. “You poor fool,” she said holding Antonius as he bled out.