Firebird Alex (The Sedumen Chronicles Book 1)

by Orren Merton

  I nodded and kept holding his hands and looking into his eyes, concentrating on that warmth. I could feel my hair and eyes ignite, but I felt even more. As I kept focusing on the warmth inside me, I could feel my skin tightening and thickening. I had to open my mouth because my canines had grown longer, like fangs.

  I kept concentrating until it became too hard to focus my attention, and I removed my hands from my dad and looked away. The moment I stopped, all my Sedu traits began to slowly recede.

  “Sorry Dad, it was getting too…too much,” I said.

  “You did well, Alex, there is no need to apologize,” my dad reassured me. “As you can see, there is more to your Sedu self than has manifested before. With me, you will learn to access your Sedu self, to control it. It won’t be easy.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’m ready. I want to. I’ve been afraid of this part of me for too long.”

  20

  After a day of training with Garz and my dad, I was absolutely exhausted. When my dad said we were finished for the day, I went straight to my room, climbed into bed, and was out like a light. I was so exhausted, I didn’t even remember that Zaebos came into my room with me and curled up on the floor next to my bed until he woke me up the next morning. Like before, “the next morning” actually felt more like ten minutes later.

  Over time, I did get somewhat used to the crazy short days. After a while, I was able to tell myself that my sleep pattern in Sediin was like taking naps every few hours for a few hours, never really being up that long or sleeping that long. That made it easier to deal with and made me feel less like I had to catch up on sleep all the time.

  My body never adjusted to a “daily” eating schedule though, and my digestive system remained on Earth time. I did eat snacks after all my training sessions and whenever my body felt really run down, but I only felt like a real meal about twice per Sediin month. Which made sense—that would have been like snacking a lot and eating two meals a day on Earth.

  That also meant I hardly had to go to the bathroom—which was a good thing. Using that sad excuse for a toilet was only slightly better than just going behind bushes, so not having to use it much was nice. Who would have thought one of the things from Earth I’d miss most was a comfortable, flushing toilet?

  And on the topic of bathroom stuff, since I was staying in Sediin for months I was a little worried about what I’d do if I needed tampons. I didn’t bring any with me and I didn’t think to ask Vetis to pick any up when he bought food and brought clothes for me. But happily, my menstrual cycle also decided to stay on Earth time, so I didn’t have to worry about that.

  Getting back to the food, I have to say the food that they prepared for me was really good. Especially considering the cooks were Ruhin who didn’t eat and had no experience with preparing meals. Vetis had brought a few processed granola and energy bars for me, but he also brought in a lot of nuts and dried fruits and chocolate chips and the Ruhin mixed up some great trail mix and granola snacks that were a real treat. The only beverage was water, which was fine because I was always really dehydrated after training with Garz, and water is best.

  The proper meals were really good, too. Most of the vegetables Vetis brought were canned, with some exceptions that could be stored without refrigeration. But even with those limitations, they cooked up really nice stews with huge chunks of potatoes, canned veggies and beef jerky; spaghetti with great sauces; Chow Mein, and other dishes.

  When I did sit down to a meal, my family always sat with me, and always joined me in human form. I’d invite Vetis as well, who I thought of as family after I found out he’d been adopted. Just as Vetis looked weird to me as a Sedu, he was a sort of weird-looking human too: big eyes that seemed to bulge out of his head; a long neck; a short skinny, body; and sadly, a missing hand. But he was a real old-fashioned gentleman like out of a book or something, pulling out chairs and stuff, and he had a great sense of humor. I could see why a woman would fall for him—he might look a bit odd but he was fantastic company. Those meals were the closest I came to human company while in Sediin, and I appreciated it.

  During those meals, Zaebos would curl up by my chair. The first meal or two I used to drop my hand to my side with a bit of dinner in it to sneak him food like I used to do with my own dog, but he’d just look up at me like I was slightly crazy, and I’d remember that he didn’t eat.

  Every day, I would wake up, get ready, and usually go outside for a run around the House. Zaebos would accompany me, and if ever any Ruhin thought about talking about me behind my back Zaebos changed their minds fast. I never liked it when he ripped them apart though. It always left me feeling responsible, even if I wasn’t—and even if I knew that they’d be coming back anyway. Thankfully, after my first couple of runs the Ruhin acted very respectful, even if the sight of a Seduman running in circles around the House was pretty odd.

  After running I’d stretch out a bit and then head to the workout space. Usually Zogo would meet me at the door with a pitcher of water, a glass, and a morning snack on a platter. We’d arrive in the workout space before Garz, and start practicing my punches and kicks and lunges. Zaebos was a great practice partner, which I wouldn’t have thought of a being that looked like a huge dog. But he could stand on his hind legs and hold the punching bag for me with his large bear paws. And I know that Zaebos loved it; he even told me that as much as he enjoyed the scratches he liked feeling useful even more.

  Those trainings with Garz were…intense. He was careful not to frighten me again, but he never let up. When he said he was a hard taskmaster, he meant it. He’d make me practice lunging and kicking and punching and ducking until I couldn’t move…then we’d just wait until I’d recovered a bit, and I’d push myself until I couldn’t move again.

  But I did understand his point. He wanted me to know every maneuver—every change up, every feint and block—so well that I could do them all without thinking; “muscle memory,” he called it. So he drilled me until I got each new move down pat, and then kept drilling me until I could do it automatically, no matter how exhausted I felt.

  And boy did it hurt. Garz explained that he was designing a custom fighting style just for me. He said it was his version of a “Seduman Krav Maga,” and it involved a lot of getting up close and fighting dirty, then darting out of the way as fast as I could, sometimes utilizing flips and springbacks. It was harder than hell, but I learned so much about how to size up my opponent, use my peripheral vision, dart around quickly, do as much damage as I could, and then slide out of the way.

  This became especially important when Garz started training me to use—and defend against—Sedu fire. He spent time teaching me how to use my breath, how to make the most of it and direct it so I could get more than two feet worth of flames. He explained that a blast of a Sedu or Seduman’s fire wouldn’t burn my skin, but it could burn my clothes off and distract me, which could be fatal. And just when I thought I knew how to breathe…Garz drilled me on techniques to breathe fire and inhale while moving. I got lightheaded and even fainted now and then while learning that technique. Fun times.

  Whenever I’d reach a particular milestone that Garz set, he’d have me spar with one of the more human-sized Mazzikim. (I had thought all Mazzikim were shaped like huge dogs, after the ones who attacked Rachel and I on Earth and Zaebos, but I was obviously wrong.) Those Mazzikim scared the hell out of me. Even if their bodies were about human-sized with two arms and two legs, their heads could be ape- or monkey-like, or sometimes really out there, like lizard heads or rat heads or spider heads with multiple eyes all around their heads. Sometimes I was at a disadvantage simply because I was kinda freaked out by what I was looking at. Then again, I think that was part of Garz’s plan, to get me used to fighting creatures that terrified me.

  Not to mention, these Mazzikim were trained warriors, and even though they were “about human-sized” nearly all of them were bigger than me. Garz set these up specifically so I was always up against a superior fi
ghter. And in every case, when he’d set up a match after teaching me a technique, I’d lose. Badly. And it would hurt. Really, really hurt. But even when I lost, I took the time to thank my opponent graciously. Partly because I didn’t want them to feel bad for beating up Lady Firebird, but also because I knew that I was learning from them, that they were part of my education. Garz and I would always analyze what I did wrong, why I got my ass handed to me on a platter, what I need to practice in order to not make that mistake next time. And then I would keep drilling, keep training, until I could defeat them. Only after I won would Garz move on to the next skill—and the next Mazzik warrior.

  It wasn’t all hand-to-hand combat either. We also trained with my Sedu blade, which I found out could also turn into full-length sword if I willed it. The lessons on dagger- and sword-fighting were just like the martial arts lessons—exhausting and brutal. Garz again stressed the practical. I wasn’t learning movie sword-fighting to look great with a blade, I was learning down and dirty ways to block an attack and disarm or neutralize an opponent as fast as possible.

  When we trained with blades, I never sparred with anyone but Garz. He never said anything, but I think he was secretly worried that a Mazzik might do some serious damage to me. And I could see why Zaebos said Garz was an amazing trainer. Those matches with Garz were intense, and I never felt he was holding back—but no matter how badly I screwed up, he never gave me more than a superficial scratch that healed quickly. Not that I sucked or anything; I think I took to my Sedu blade pretty readily. Like a boss.

  It took forever, but as the weeks went on and I saw myself getting noticeably better, it was pretty exciting. That’s not to say that it got any easier, or that it was fun. There were no days off. I was training seven days a week. There were times that I’d break down and cry. There were those times when it just seemed like too much, and I sort of lost it. Garz had learned to show some compassion, to pick me up and give me a moment when I needed one. And Zogo was always there with a towel and some water. But when I did win a fight or do a perfect drill change up with punches and ducks and springs and kicks, or executed a flawless parry and thrust and disarmed Garz, it was an amazing feeling. I felt not just powerful and trained, but like the girl I was meant to be. I felt proud. And I could tell in those moments when I felt proud of myself, Garz felt proud of me too.

  And so did Zaebos, who never left my side. k12

  21

  Thankfully, I did more than just physical training in Sediin. Every day after my workout with Garz, I’d have a session with my dad. Other than that first time, we didn’t meet on the roof. Sessions with Dad were in a very ornate private room off from the main hall. He called it the spirit chamber. It was off limits to everyone but Keroz, Garz, and me—Dad said Vetis was welcome inside but that it wouldn’t have the same meaning or effect on him, because he was adopted and not originally of the spirit of the House.

  This room was covered in plush carpets and tapestries with really cool woven patterns. Some of those hangings had writing on them—the first writing I’d seen anywhere in Sediin. Of course I couldn’t read it. Dad explained the language was ancient script from before time and held deep power; in fact, the words held the key to the Sedu power to create Sediin. The room had a very comforting red glow, but there were no torches; Dad said that the script also created the room’s glow.

  On the floor were these really big, round embroidered large ball-like things. Dad told me to sit down on one. I sat down and I sank right into it like a beanbag, which really helped me get comfortable. The lighting and the silence created a meditative, introspective mood…it’s hard to explain, but I felt very in touch with everything when I was in there, like I could feel everyone around me in the House of Keroz, even the Mazzikim and Ruhin that I had never met.

  I really loved these sessions. Sometimes, when I’d had a particularly rough training session with Garz, all we would do is breathe and relax. My dad wouldn’t say a thing; he just let me take the moment to meditate and center myself—and a couple times, fall asleep. But when he decided it was time to start, he’d start talking softly or rouse me gently. The image would have been hilarious, I’m sure. This red, eight-foot-tall, super muscular, horned beast gently rousing a sleeping girl. But I really respected that about my dad—his roar was powerful enough to blow eardrums out, but he could be incredibly tender, too. And considering how showing compassion was dangerous, he saved all of that for in here, our little private sanctuary.

  Dad usually took my hands, and we’d try to bring out my Sedu self like he did that first lesson. Once out, he would then guide me through how to control it. First I learned to look into myself, to feel the fire in my hair, my eyes, and my breath, and to call it forth at will. From there we concentrated on digging deeper, to where my skin was tougher—tough enough to stop a small blade or bullet, Dad said—and my teeth grew fangs, and bringing them out whenever I wanted to. Finally, my father removed one hand, then the other, in order to teach me to find that place, that warmth—my Sedu self—without his spirit to guide me.

  It wasn’t easy to find it all the time, depending on how I was feeling. Sometimes I would be too distracted. Or so exhausted from my training with Garz that I couldn’t muster the required energy. But as the months progressed, I got to the point that I could consistently call on my Sedu self, all of it, which I called “going full Sedu.”

  Holding it back, however, was more difficult. Dad was impressed with how much I’d been able to do by myself, just by breathing techniques and yoga and stuff. But once I was in full Sedu, I felt different—more powerful, but also less like myself. My dad explained that the problem was that I was fighting against myself, that I still saw myself as Alex the human girl and the Sedu self as the “other,” and I was trying to control it as I would an outside force. He told me that the more comfortable I became with my Sedu self, the more withdrawing my fire would become simply another natural part of myself.

  And while I never mastered withdrawing my fire as quickly as I could go full Sedu, I definitely became a lot more comfortable with who I was. I wasn’t a cursed girl. I wasn’t a monster. I was never going to snap and turn into a demon and start eating people. I was the daughter of a beautiful and compassionate human poet and a Sedu lord, which gave me both humanity and Sedu powers. And I didn’t have to be ashamed. While I might not want to broadcast that I’m a Seduman, I didn’t have to hide myself away, either.

  These sessions definitely brought me closer to my dad. I was still shocked by the brutality of Sedu life, and my father was part of that, there was no hiding from it. But I could see that he tried to be a decent and honest being in a place in which it was very difficult to be decent and honest. I thought about what he did for Vetis, saving him and adopting him. What he did for the souls of my mother and Rabbi Norm. Besides, Zedek befriended my dad, and he only helped the just, right? I knew there was good in him, that there was love in him, even if he couldn’t admit it.

  With the days as short as they were, there wasn’t much time for anything other than my trainings and occasionally meals. But every now and again I’d get a little stir crazy and want to do something other than work, eat, and sleep. Since they had nothing mechanical, video games, music, and movies were definitely out. And to my surprise, there weren’t any books around, either.

  One thing I learned to enjoy was long baths. You’d think I could have bathed all the time, but since water had to be carried in by hand from Earth, it wasn’t easy to come by. Vetis had brought gallons and gallons back when he was getting food for me, but I was drinking a lot of it. So I had to be careful. And Vetis, bless his Sedu heart, had brought a special treat for me that he remembered his girlfriend in Chicago used to love: bubble bath!

  So once every week, I poured in just enough water for a good soak. I’d add the bubble bath and then reach my hands in, using my Sedu powers to heat the water while stirring the tub to get a nice bubble bath going. For a moment, all my exhaustion would fade, and I’d feel
like I was floating. When I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine I was in Heaven.

  Baths weren’t my only escape from routine, either. Every two weeks in the main hall there would be a Happening. This was kind of like a cross between an open stage and a talent show, when individuals or groups of Ruhin or Mazzikim would do anything from comedy skits, to telling stories, to reciting spoken-word poetry, to performing music on some really bizarre looking Sediin musical instruments resembling steel drums with strings on the sides which sounded…well, really odd, something between an out of tune guitar and banging on pots and pans.

  Garz would never have skipped a training session to attend a Happening, but Dad considered it part of “Sedu awareness” and would make it count as one of our sessions. I was extremely grateful for the change. And truthfully, I think my dad was right. It gave me a different view of Sedu life. While the House translated Seduin to English and back again for me, most of the Ruhin would perform in languages that I couldn’t understand, but I could still appreciate the rhythm of their speech and the melodies of their voices. And slapstick comedy skits could still be funny even without any clue as to the dialog.

  I have to admit, while I enjoyed the change of pace, it wasn’t great. There were no Shakespeares among the Ruhin or Mazzikim. My dad admitted as much, telling me that one of humanity’s great gifts was its art. He would ask me what I loved and tell me what moved him the most when he would come to my world. And of course, he told me how much he enjoyed my mother’s poetry, her words, and her mind. And when he told me how much of her he felt was in me…well…I lost it. But in a good way—I was glad to hear I was like my mom, but I could also tell that was my dad’s way of telling me how much he cared about her. Those were happy tears.

  And speaking of caring—as busy as I was, as much as I was learning, I missed my human friends all the time. I kept thinking about Rachel’s short, tragic experiences: her father left when she was so young, her mother died six years ago, and now her adoptive-father was gone. Like me, she had no family left on Earth. I couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for her. And I so wanted to be with her.