Jess stood up and gasped. As he put the bookcase down he continued, “There’s a lot more too.”
She walked over to the bookcase; thinking that it was all some sort of stunt, she attempted to lift it as well, but for her, it was impossible. Only by using both hands did she manage to move it slightly. He had really lifted it; it was no trick.
“More?” she probed, to which he grinned slightly.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Do you want me to show you or tell you?”
She hesitated. “You’re not going to cut yourself, are you?”
“No,” he laughed. “There’s more than the super strength and the fast healing. The Phoenix has this power. It’s like an energy, one that I can mould into stuff. A well-trained Phoenix host can make all manner of things, from blasts to shields. I used to be able to do it, I’m not sure if I could now, it’s been a while.”
She looked at him with astonishment. Teetering on the edge of understanding and disbelief she willed him to show her more. “So what do you mean, you could blow something up?”
“Maybe if I tried, I haven’t done it for so long. It’s a skill that needs constant practice. But I’ll try. Stand to one side. It could be dangerous.” Using his arm, he manoeuvred her out of the way of his acquired target: an ugly old vase that was given to Jess by an unattractive ex.
“You don’t like that tat?” he asked pointing at the homemade creation resting on the floor next to the fireplace.
“As much as I liked Rick,” she replied.
The answer gave him the green light to go ahead. Trying desperately to remember his training, he stretched out his hand as jade light flickered from the tips of his fingers. Hissing through the air it struck the vase smashing it into several pieces.
She gasped again, as her hand rose to her mouth; she looked over to Kristian in bewilderment to see him looking equally shocked by his own destructive achievement.
Wiping his brow he spoke in disbelief, “I didn’t think I still had it in me. Though to be honest I’ve a bit of a migraine now.” He said “migraine” but what he meant was discomfort. The task did cause him actual pain, but what disturbed him the most was hearing the voice of his Phoenix; he had suppressed that voice for nearly two years, and now it echoed through his thoughts.
“Wow. Okay, super strength I can deal with, healing fast I get, but I didn’t actually believe that you could or would blow something up. That was amazing. So when did you last do it? How long is a long time?”
“About two years now. Just before I left the Order.”
“The what?” she asked.
“The Order of Light; it’s an old secretive organisation; I used to work for them. I left, but now they want me to go back,” he said as the burden of returning once again filled his heart.
“I’ve never heard of the Order of Light!” she blurted out.
“That’s because it’s a secret, it’s not like the Freemasons or anything.”
“Who are they? What’s their game? Are they bad or something?” Jess asked, sounding genuinely intrigued by it all.
“No, no, they are actually the good guys,” he said.
“Good guys… then who are the bad guys?”
“God, so many questions. Do you really want me to start from the beginning?” Jess responded to Kristian’s question nodding enthusiastically, she wanted to hear it all, now she was more than simply a believer; she was captivated!
“Well three years ago, I started to have these nightmares. There was this woman, I found out later her name was Anne. In my dreams she was murdered, I had the same macabre dream repeatedly. Every night for weeks on end I watched her die; I felt her die. It was tangible, as real as you are to me now. That’s how it started.”
Jess looked fondly at her friend; she could almost see the horror of these memories in his eyes. If there was a single moment in this bizarre conversation, when she truly believed him, it was now.
“The dreams were just the start of something called the ‘blending’. That’s what the Order calls it when a Phoenix joins with a new host. It doesn’t hurt, well, not physically. The legend of the Phoenix is rooted in some truth. When a host dies the Phoenix is reborn into a new body; it never dies, it just lives through us, the hosts. And a consequence of that, is that there are many lifetimes worth of memories. I don’t see them all, I can’t recall them as if they were my own, but sometimes they play out in my sleep. The memories themselves aren’t too horrific, what’s bad is feeling Saranthea’s emotions, the pain and the joy.”
“Saranthea?” asked Jess.
“That’s her name,” Kristian said in almost a whisper, he hadn’t uttered her name since his departure from the Order. Saying it aloud brought mixed emotions. “She isn’t the only one. There are twelve out there, well thirteen if you include the Dark Phoenix. The story goes that the twelve were born into light and one in the darkness. Usually the twelve pick hosts similar to them, good and pure,” he chuckled to himself. “The Dark Phoenix on the other hand chooses a host who is similar to him, someone who he can cause the most pain and misery with,” he paused for breath and examined Jess’s face.
“There are people out there that can do what you can do? There are real superheroes?” she asked, already knowing what the answer would be.
“Yes, I’ve met the occasional hero but they wouldn’t class themselves as that, most people who blend with a Phoenix see it as an honour, a privilege; a calling that gives their lives meaning.”
“And you don’t?” she said, hearing in his voice that he had some reservations.
“I’m not the hero type, don’t think I’ll ever be.”
She chuckled on hearing his words; to her he was the best friend she ever had, he was caring, honest and had a moral compass that never wavered.
“So what exactly is the hero type then?” she asked.
“Well, someone brave, loyal, strong, someone who is willing to always do the right thing regardless of their own needs, that’s the hero I would want to be,” said Kristian.
“To me, you are all of those things,” Jess said without hesitation.
“You really have no idea, I’m none of those things. I’m a coward,” he said genuinely believing his words.
“What do you mean you’re a coward?” she exclaimed.
“You don’t understand the world that I used to live in,” he replied.
“Then tell me more, I want to know!” Jess said grabbing Kristian’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly.
“Well, after the blending, after the Order found me, I started my training, that’s when I learned the truth. You asked me who the bad guys are; the Order doesn’t protect people from muggers, murderers, and drug-dealers. There are things much worse out there.”
“Like what?” She didn’t really want to know, but she was falling down the rabbit hole, she had been told about the fantastic, the good; now she knew it was time for the bad.
“The easiest way for me to explain it is…” he thought for a moment, “well, imagine everything you have seen in horror movies, monsters, vampires, werewolves, that sort of thing. It makes sense if you think about it, folklore was influenced by reality, they actually exist and I am not talking about the clichéd cheesy versions you get in the movies. I’m talking about real evil, real monsters!” he looked at her for a reaction but she wasn’t actually finding this part hard to believe; for some strange reason it was human nature to believe in the bad rather than the good.
It was easy for her to picture the vampires, the werewolves, she could see the images of them from something she had seen on TV or had read. The Phoenixes, on the other hand, were unknown to her, they were unimaginable to her, she didn’t know who they were or what they wanted. And her friend’s obvious reluctance to embrace them made them seem chilling.
Her face showed the angst she was feeling, and Kristian could read it plainly.
“You okay? Sorry, I know it’s a lot to take in. It’s not easy finding out what really lurks in the dark
and there is so much more to tell you.”
She considered his words; it wasn’t just the thought of monsters that made her feel uneasy, it was different now; he was; she was.
“Do you mind if we take a break? There’s a lot to sink in,” she asked.
He nodded in agreement; he too found the conversation hard, digging around in his memories and discussing the past was not something he enjoyed.
An hour soon passed, and the pair had not ventured once to re-enter the minefield that was the Phoenix conversation. Kristian spent the time sitting in the front room staring into nothing; he only moved to make a cup of tea, and he was on his sixth brew. Jess was now laid in lukewarm bath water, she tried hard to think of anything else, but her mind was racing, her imagination was working overtime. As the bubbles around her flickered out of existence so did her belief that everything would remain the same. She didn’t know what emotion to focus on first, the confusion, the fear, the hurt. There were so many questions she wanted answers to and with every answer a new emotion would enter her heart, a new thought would cross her mind.
She was surprised at how she felt, the worry for her friend, the confusion in her mind was obvious, but the niggling feeling of betrayal that had started off seeping into her thoughts was now flowing like a river through her head. Mixed in with the feeling of betrayal was a feeling of stupidity. How could she have been so naïve as to not realise the hidden depths that Kristian had guarded so closely; not seen the signs that hid the dark world she was now so very aware of? As she reflected on her feelings, she soon began to feel guilty at seeing her friend in such a light. He is still Kristian, isn’t he?
She wasn’t entirely sure anymore, and that hurt.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Are you okay in there Jess?” Kristian said, barely audible through the door.
She sat up abruptly, splashing water onto the floor around the bathtub. “Um, yes, I’m fine, just give me a minute, okay?”
“Sure, okay, I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been in there forever.”
As she heard his footsteps walk away from the bathroom, a sadness crept over her. She immersed her whole body and head under the water and let the ripples wash over her, attempting to let them take her away to a place of safety and calm. That momentary tranquillity did not last long, as she knew that the conversation was not finished.
It wasn’t long before she was back in the lounge, perched once again on the sofa in her cosy dressing gown and slippers, with a cup of tea in her hands, freshly made by Kristian.
“I guess the main question I have to ask you is why did you leave?” she asked tentatively.
“You have to understand how the Order works, Jess, it’s not just about the Phoenix. I left about two years ago, just after completing my training, after my first mission. From the months I spent there I knew it wasn’t for me. You’re constantly reminded of the worst aspects of this world. I wanted my own life and I wanted to choose my own destiny,” he paused for a second. “So I made a deal. They let me leave and go to university and I said that I would get my degree, get a real career but would return to help if they ever needed me. It may sound selfish, but they have eleven other Phoenixes out there to take my place. They have witches and wizards and other people with extraordinary powers. They can easily get by without me,” he looked at Jess hoping for her acceptance, her understanding.
“I get it,” she put her arm on his. “So what’s happened and what does Kieran have to do with it?”
Kristian took a few seconds before starting; he took in a deep breath and began, “There was a guy called Oliver. We became Phoenix hosts at the same time, we trained together, took our first mission together,” he paused again; he couldn’t bear to say it aloud. “He was killed. They want me to find out what happened, find whoever did it.”
Jess hugged him tightly. “What are you going to do?” she asked
“I don’t know. I really don’t want to go back. But I feel like I owe it to him, he was my friend. He was older than me and looked out for me, like a brother. He was brave and I feel like I disappointed him so much when I left. I want to make it up to him, but I don’t think I can.”
“Well, you don’t have to go back for good do you?” Jess wasn’t sure she wanted her best friend to be out there fighting monsters, but she could tell that Oliver had meant a lot to him.
“I know Jess, but I’m scared. I’m not brave or courageous like the others. I don’t want to die,” his voice trembled.
“Now you listen to me,” said Jess firmly. “You are brave. You may not think so, but you’re very courageous and a lot stronger than most people. Let me tell you what my crazy Sergeant Major father used to say: courage isn’t about being fearless. It’s about being filled with fear, knowing that fear, embracing it and doing the right thing in the face of that fear.”
He studied her. She was strong; she had a remarkable ability to make everything make sense to him. He knew it would take more than a quick chat with her before he entered the belly of the beast again, but she was helping him more than he had thought she could. She was making his decision easier, giving his decision-making clarity.
“Look,” she said “I know, as you do, that you will go back Kris, and here’s why: you’re a good person and good people don’t run away. They stand and fight for what they believe in and you’ve always done that in the past. I didn’t know Oliver and I won’t pretend to, but I think you would honour me and fight for my justice, just as much as you are going to fight for Oliver’s,” she kissed him on the head and stood up.
As he listened to her words, he knew that she was right; he knew that he was going to go back, even though the thought scared him shitless! He knew that it was the right thing to do. He stood up and embraced her tightly.
“Thank you, Jess, you’re right. I am going to go back, that’s exactly what I have to do.”
She smiled at him and sighed heavily.
“So, am I going to wake up now?” she chuckled.
He laughed. “If only,” he replied. “Now, are you hungry? It’s late and we haven’t eaten. I will cook if you like.”
“Are you putting off the phone call?” Jess asked.
“What phone call?” he answered.
“I think you know what I mean.”
“Give me a chance. I’ve only just made the decision myself!” he replied, smiling for the first time in the conversation.
“Well, I don’t want you to ponder on it for too long, you might change both our minds.”
“I don’t think I’ll change my mind. There’s not really any going back now is there? It’s time for me to be your hero.”
She gazed up into his deep blue eyes and smiled affectionately at him. She placed a hand on his arm softly, and uttered the words he needed to hear.
“You’ve always been my hero, Kris.”
…
Jonathon stood in his office contemplating his next move. Kristian was a no-show. ‘If he were going to come back to the fold, he would have done it days ago,’ he thought.
Six days had passed since his meeting with him in the café and not a word. Moving people around to fill the tasks he needed them to do now plagued his mind. It was now going to have to be Zhing. The investigation needed to be carried out with or without Kristian and Zhing was the only one he could spare. Maybe he could get Adriana to come back from Spain, but she was already on another mission and she had not even been told about Oliver’s death yet. Perhaps Kara could take up the mission, but she had just taken command of the New York office. His head was throbbing; the stress was getting to him. He knew that neither Adriana nor Kara would be able to lead the investigation; he just did not want to have to tell Zhing that she was being reassigned away from the Dark Phoenix mission. She was likely to go berserk: it was her most important mission yet and she was determined to complete it.
The Order had always taken a half-cocked approach towards the Dark Phoenix problem and for the last ten years practically i
gnored it, but the time for action was now and it needed to be resolved quickly. Frustration completely overwhelmed him; he placed his whole arm on his desk and with one long swipe, he tossed all of his paperwork on to the floor. Pens, pencils and paper went everywhere, the phone too, and the lamp smashed hard against the stone floor. Placing his head on the desk, the old man began to sing quietly to himself. His song and thoughts were cut short by a hard rapping on his door. “Go away,” Jonathon shouted.
Entering the office, Andrew Gilmore walked in; dressed in his usual worn overall, he spoke softly and gently. “Well, old friend,” he smiled “I sensed you didn’t really mean it!”
“Oh, I’m sorry Andrew, do sit down.” Jonathon raised his head and smiled back at him. Closing the door behind him, Andrew slowly walked towards the chair opposite Jonathon and then realised the chair and every other chair in the room was covered in paperwork. “It’s as bad as Peter’s office,” Andrew spoke his thought aloud.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry, let me move some of this,” said Jonathon rising and pointing toward the chair.
“Not to worry,” Andrew had already stretched out his hand and the cluttered chair was suddenly clear again.
“Nice trick,” Jonathon never failed to be impressed by magic, even though he had seen it used many times.
“Well, you now know why we members of the Trinity have such tidy offices, Jon. And some people are just easily pleased,” he smiled widely at his friend.
“Oh, I wish I was still easily pleased,” sighed Jonathon as he lowered himself back into his chair. “I really do, it would be nice if things went the way I planned them.”
“Still troubled by how to investigate young Oliver’s death? Expecting old friends to be more receptive, are you?” Andrew said, appreciating Jonathon’s situation. The entire Order knew how overstretched the resources were at the moment and Oliver’s sad and strange death, along with Kristian’s resistance to return, were additional strains.
“He died on my watch, Andrew. I sent him on that mission; I got him killed. We have no leads except you-know-what and we cannot even bring that person in for questioning. The last two years have been so difficult and for the first time since I got this chair, I really don’t know what to do,” Andrew had never heard Jonathon sound so disheartened.
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