Phoenix Rising (the New Age Saga Book 3)

by Timothy A. Ray

  “You could say that,” he answered with a groan. “Doesn’t seem to matter that our wedding is in two days, and that we only put it off so that the two of you could be there.”

  John shook his head and laughed. “It’s his little girl, what did you expect him to do?”

  “Now you’re beginning to sound like her,” he answered, nodding in Willow’s direction. She hit him in the shoulder and he immediately said “sorry.”

  “You’d better be,” she sneered playfully, giving his shoulder a pinch.

  John took another sip of his wine. “Jenna’s going to be upset she’s going to miss it.”

  “I know,” Willow responded, then patted her belly. “Not like we have much choice. If we don’t do it soon, my father will likely skin your brother and make a new cloak out of his newly increased hide.”

  His brother leaned forward. “Speaking of which, you went through these trials and they changed you this drastically? Did you know that was going to happen?”

  He looked away for a moment, then frowned. “I knew something would happen, just not this. And it wasn’t just my body that got altered by those trials.”

  “Yeah, he finally grew some balls to tell that flirting whore no,” Willow sneered.

  “Okay,” he said with an opened mouth. “I think that’s enough wine for you.”

  She held the glass away from him as he tried to reach for it. “I don’t think so buddy. I know when I’ve had enough, and I’m not there yet. If that bitch had kept it up, I’d have ended up knocking her out.”

  John broke into fresh laughter. “Hey, you’re marrying her.”

  He smiled at his fiancé and took her hand. “You’re damn right I am.” Then he looked back to his grinning brother. “It’s odd, right? How much has changed yet still feels the same?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” John nodded.

  Trek stretched his claws and suddenly leapt from John’s lap. “That was quite comfortable, thanks,” the feline said, whipped his tail in the air, and disappeared into the room beyond to take his accustomed spot at the foot of their bed.

  John’s jaw dropped and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Willow joined in and the confused look on his brother’s face was just making it worse by the second. “He’s a fairy.”

  “Brag,” the sprite interjected, watching the three of them with delighted eyes. It was like she was drinking in every word, analyzing how they interacted with one another.

  “Apologies!” he hollered at the cat, but as usual, Trek simply ignored him.

  “A Knight of the Realm. I’ve got to tell you—the timid boy who wouldn’t shoot a bow a month ago is now a knighted warrior; it’s just not reconciling in my head.”

  He smirked. “Think of how I feel. I keep getting these wonderful gifts, these genuine gestures of friendship, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve somehow woken up in another realm and become someone entirely different. You know, I lost father’s sword.”

  “Yeah, I caught that part,” John replied mournfully. “But it’s what was needed to get Excalibur and I’m sure the old man would understand.”

  He nodded at Willow, who got to her feet and brought his swords to him, placing them standing up by the side of his chair. “Well, Erik had another blade forged for me and named it Justice to replace the sword we lost.” He brought out the sword and let John take it in hand.

  His brother rose to his feet and swung it about carefully, mindful of the three people sitting before him. “The weight feels good, and it’s terribly well-balanced. Even feels lighter than father’s sword, if I remember correctly.”

  He nodded; he had thought so himself. Handing it back, Tristan quickly sheathed it and placed Purity on the table. John whistled as he beheld the magical sword. “I know, right?”

  Shirl flew down to the table and bent over the magical blade. “Nimue made this for you?” she asked with awe. “I can sense it’s magic, it’s like a song that flows through me, filling me up with thoughts of peace and joy.”

  “Can you sense what it can do?” Willow suddenly broke in out of curiosity.

  The fairy hovered over the blade, then reached down and placed a tiny finger on the scabbard’s surface. She jerked it back suddenly, then with greater purpose, placed her palm upon the white dragonscales beneath her. After a few long moments and another glass of wine, Shirl looked back at him with a large smile upon her face.

  “She told you the truth. This magic is only as strong as its user and is forever bound to you and your kin. It will never break as long as you stay true to your heart. I can sense four elements woven into the blade, almost like blood flow, slowly pulsing with the beat of your heart. It will pierce the toughest of surfaces as if a blade through butter. You can plunge it into the earth and make the ground shake. With it in hand you can manipulate objects to become light as air, or as hard as stone. You could even walk on water. You can use it to summon those you love, or to help guide you to where they might be. There’s a few strands I can’t quite make out, but the intricacy of how they are woven together is so amazing. It’s truly an honor to behold such fine work. I’ve never seen or heard of finer, with the exception of Excalibur,” the fairy finished, taking her hand off the white surface and beaming up at him.

  “And this one?” he patted Justice lying beside him.

  “Druid magic is different from that of Fey. I can’t help you there. For that you’ll have to ask a druid,” she answered quickly, then took flight and took her former seat on Willow’s shoulder.

  He sighed but understood. He had been told to ask Revan about it, and it seemed like he wasn’t going to get off that easily after all.

  John took Purity in hand and it felt like the sword was actually singing at his touch. “It’s amazing. I saw Excalibur at dinner, and it was a fine blade, but I think you ended up with the better of the two.”

  He shook his head in disagreement. “It is a wonderful gift, but it won’t destroy the Book of the Dead; only Excalibur will. And I don’t envy the man that wields it, because sooner or later he’s going to come face to face with the Phoenix. I’m not sure I’d want to be in his place when that happens.”

  John eyed him for a moment, then nodded his head in agreement. “Nor I. That witch is owed a reckoning, but she’s not at the top of my list.”

  “Clint,” Tristan muttered with disgust.

  “Exactly,” his brother sneered back. “When I find that son of—”

  He leaned forward. “You mean when I find him.”

  Willow chuckled. “Are you two back on this again? I think both of you need to stop drinking and give me those glasses. You two are so wrapped up in battling each other over him—you both won’t mind if my sister finds him first and rips his heart out of his chest, now would you?”

  Both brothers turned to her and she burst into laughter.

  “He’d better not be stupid enough to show his face when the Phoenix’s army arrives, for I swear on our father’s soul, I will destroy the entire army single-handed to get to him and make him pay for what he has done,” John swore loudly.

  “Against the two of us, how could it be any other way?” he countered and the two brothers slapped their hands together in a display of brotherhood.

  Willow suddenly rolled her eyes. “Oh boy, the testosterone is just about killing me out here. I’m going to be marrying your brother day after tomorrow and this is our last night together before the wedding. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get some before going to bed.”

  He had never known his brother to flush, but he did so now. He snickered. “See you tomorrow?”

  “You’ll have too. If you are going to get married then you need to have a bachelor party, I’ve got some planning to do,” John rose to his feet. “That is, unless you have another best man in mind?”

  “Do elven weddings have best men?” he asked Willow, who was already starting to unlace her blouse, causing John to shift his weight in embarrassment as he looked away from the preg
nant woman across from him.

  Willow laughed. “Of course they do. Someone has to stand there with you, otherwise you’d be the only naked guy in the room.”

  “Wait, what?” both men stuttered at the same time and his fiancé laughed even louder as she disappeared back into the room.

  “She’s kidding, right?” John asked him with concern.

  He shrugged, eyes wide. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter 11

  Binding

  I

  To say that he was nervous was an understatement.

  There were naked elves walking past his chair, hands sliding over his shoulders, fingers teasing his ears, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was sitting at a table in a small dining hall while women danced to loud music on the table in the center of the room. Smaller tables had been set up around it and he made sure that he was in the corner, and not the center of attention like his brother had wanted.

  Even though he hadn’t lifted a finger in response to the elven women’s attentive caresses, he still felt like he was cheating on his betrothed, and nothing anyone said made him feel any different. John sat next to him with a long brown-haired beauty on his knee. She was leaning against him, her breasts pushing into John’s chest, a huge smile on his brother’s face. Was he even thinking about Jenna while he was doing that?

  “It’s all in good fun,” John had told him the first time a naked woman had walked past, but all it was doing was tying him into knots. Where was the fun in this? He’d rather be in Willow’s arms right now than watching a parade of exotic elves gliding by.

  Erik sat on his left, eyes passively taking in the scenery, he didn’t look the least bit interested either. At least he wasn’t alone! Derek had wanted to come, but the King had ordered him out; much to Tristan’s relief. He didn’t want to be responsible for corrupting the youth before he had a chance to learn what he really wanted or liked. Then again, how old was he? This was something he shouldn’t be witnessing either, but his brother had insisted, and would not listen to any of his protestations.

  The Lancaster generals had mixed with the Forlorn commanders, and together they ringed the table in the center of the room, drinking wine and cheering for the dancers gyrating above them. Noelani had a higher chair on the end and was reaching out with gigantic palms to try and touch one of the women’s bare legs.

  Bordin was absent, but that was all right with Tristan. The two hadn’t said much since the argument the night before and he wasn’t sure how long it would take to mend the rift that had sprung up between them. He wasn’t sure how to go about doing that, and knew that the only thing he could do was wait and hope that it worked out on its own. It wasn’t like they weren’t getting married the next day.

  He should’ve felt nervous about that, but he didn’t. The women sliding by made him more uneasy than the thought of standing by Willow’s side and taking her hand in marriage. It was a necessary step to the start of their lives together, and he was more than ready for that.

  Looking over at Erik, he watched as the King nodded his head towards a balcony across the way. The elf got up promptly and made for the door. Erik politely declined one of the girl’s reaching arms as he opened the doors and stepped outside. Tristan immediately got to his feet and followed after, ignoring the questioning look from his brother.

  As he stepped out into the night air, he saw a smirk on Erik’s face greeting him, and he couldn’t help but shake his head and shrug his shoulders. “That’s my brother’s idea of a good time.”

  “I could’ve come up with a few more entertaining ideas myself,” the King told him with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, well you’re marrying us. You couldn’t very well stand by my side at the same time,” he answered back with a grim smile. Erik had indeed been his first choice, despite the bond of brotherhood he had with John. It was a feeling of friendship that could only have been described by their past lives pulling them together.

  Erik smirked, then turned to look at the city beyond. “That doesn’t mean I couldn’t have handled throwing you a bachelor party. A large feast, knights jousting, quiet atmosphere, tell me that wouldn’t have been more to your liking?”

  He had to laugh. “You really do know me well, don’t you?”

  “In more ways than even the two of you realize,” a voice spoke up from behind them, startling Tristan from his thoughts.

  They both turned around and saw that they had a visitor, one that neither had known nor expected to be there that night. “Merlin?” he asked with disbelief. A large orc moved past the doorway and his eyes recognized Kore’s massive frame immediately. “When did you get here?”

  “Just now, actually,” the mage answered with a grin as he came forward to stand by the two men. “Not the kind of scene I was expecting to find you involved in.”

  “Yeah, well, my brother’s idea of a party,” he sneered, nodding towards the Lancaster King who now had two women sitting next to him. “Not my idea of a good time.”

  “I know you,” Erik suddenly blurted, taking a really good look at the man standing before them. “I’ve seen you in my dreams.”

  Merlin bowed deeply before the Elven King. “I swore an oath and I live by it to this day, as always. I am at your service, my King.”

  The elf was at a loss of words as he studied the mage before him. “Is it really you? How can that be? What happened to you? You were an old man even when I was a boy.”

  He shared a look with the mage and shook his head in wonder. It was still something he hadn’t gotten used to himself; the idea of the mage actually growing younger every day, rather than older like the rest of them. Not to mention; these two had known each other how many thousands of years ago? And Merlin was not a reincarnated soul reborn. Speaking of which, why hadn’t his ancient self-recognized the mage when he first appeared? Why did he not seem familiar to him even now?

  Merlin suddenly laughed. “He’s just realized he should have known me when we first met. Care to explain to him why he didn’t?” the mage directed at the Elven King.

  Erik shook his head with a small, playful grin. “Merlin wasn’t as eager to be directly involved back then, more prone to reading books and napping by a fire rather than get his hands dirty himself. If he did come to court, I never called him by name, even in front of those closest to me. He liked his anonymity. I can see that much has changed at least. Well, Out with it! Are you reborn as well? You can’t be anything else. I was told you were dead!”

  “It’s a long story, and not one easily told in one night. If you want, we can spend some time together later and discuss it, but this night is about this young man right here,” the mage told the stunned King, taking a step forward and placing a hand on Tristan’s shoulders. “I am grateful for everything you have done. You beat the odds, got Excalibur, and got it to the King where it belongs. You don’t know how thin the chance of success was, and you did it with surprising ease and courage. I am forever in your debt.”

  He bowed his head at the compliment and smiled in gratitude. “I couldn’t have done it alone.”

  “And that humility is what makes you an even better man. Now, I have a gift that I want to give you on the eve of your wedding,” Merlin stated and Tristan immediately shook his head.

  “I’ve been given enough already,” he blurted, looking to the grinning King by his side, who chuckled at some inside joke.

  Erik clapped him on the shoulder. “You should learn to just say thank you. You’ve earned it.”

  “I don’t think I have,” he commented dryly. “Not yet.”

  Merlin stepped to the rail, then turned to look at him. “What I’m offering is not a sword, shield, or other tangible object, but peace of mind concerning something that’s been bothering you for quite some time.”

  Now he was interested, what could the mage be talking about? He ransacked his brain for some unspoken question, some answer he’d been seeking, but came up empty.

  Erik was starting to move off to g
ive them space but Merlin motioned for him to stay. “You might as well hear this too, you do share some responsibility in what I’m about to tell him.”

  The King paused and slowly turned his eyes on the mage. “What are you talking about?”

  Merlin turned to look at him once more. “There was a question on your mind some time back after you met Melissa, concerning whether or not Willow had cast a spell on you in order to make you love her.”

  His mind reeled. Had he actually wondered about that? If so, why did the mage pick up on it and choose to talk about it now? “It was just a passing fancy, one that I didn’t really believe in.”

  “Yet part of you has still wondered, even if you haven’t been consciously thinking about it. Well, I have the answer if you want it, and it’s got nothing to do with magical spells or glamour,” Merlin offered softly, drawing both men closer. “There’s a reason the two of you felt pulled to one another from the moment you met, and that’s because you both recognize the soul residing in the other.”

  “Willow is Guinevere reborn, only she doesn’t know it,” the mage told them both firmly and he heard a sharp intake of breath from the King by his side.

  He felt the pull of the name from the echoes of his heart and multiple blocks of questions clicked into place and understanding dawned on him.

  “The two of you only loved briefly in your past lives, both unable to experience what that meant due to prior obligations, like marriage and loyalty to your friend and King,” Merlin explained, nodding towards Erik.

  The King shook his head in disbelief. “How couldn’t I see it?”

  “Well, it’s subtler than it is with the both of you; it’s mostly around the eyes. But I felt it the moment I laid eyes on her and knew instantly what had happened. Your souls pulled each other from the netherworld. The longing of your love was strong enough to have you reborn in vessels that would eventually meet and offer you the chance to explore that which the both of you craved the most. That’s why your love is so strong, why even a witch employing her seductive magic on you couldn’t pull you away. She is truly your soul mate,” Merlin said with a smile. “There are no spells here. What you have is true, unbreakable, and has withstood the test of time. It will not wither, it will not fade, even in death the two of you will not be apart.”