The Scarlet Phoenix

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Our great elders swear by the fable we teach our youth that recounts the tale of The Scarlet Phoenix who led our weyr to the valley after the crumble of Ziahrah. It may be difficult to envision now, but shortly before Kinsleigh and I found Archer we called the westernmost meadow on Ziahrah home.

Before the east star was forced to kilter from its rotation, Ziahrah was nothing less than serendipitous. Oftentimes when I close my eyes I can still hear the calm whistle of the wind ricocheting off the vine covered canyon wall, rustling the branches of the Joshua Trees.

It was a notably icy night. The billowy white fog that ordinarily suspends below the stars had dissipated. There was an eerie silence that ambled through the meadow which couldn’t help but spur uncertainty among us; though, I don’t believe any of the elders knew the extent of what would unravel just hours before sunrise.

Kinsleigh was tending to our first eggs nested in the hoard, while I was tending to the fire, perfecting the placement of the timber that would keep us warm through the night. To the east, a bright flash of light followed by a fierce amber glow lit up the sky catching the corner of my eye. Instinctively I looked towards Kinsleigh who was fixated on that same particular spot. She was frozen in awe, her lavender eyes displaying fear for the first time ever.

Kinsleigh had always been fearless. Since the moment I first laid my eyes on her, she had so elegantly maintained her brave and wise perspective of danger. I knew at that moment she knew something which I did not; I knew there was a valid reason I too should be afraid of what we had just seen.

The initial impact was felt after what seemed like only the blink of an eye, abruptly alerting the others, waking them from their dreams. With no time to compose an escape strategy, we secured our precious items and fled Ziahrah flying inland towards The Valleys of Alyndeen. The thick weight of the air kept us from the elevation we needed to see beyond Ziahrah, so we had to rely solely on our faith in the land to lead us in the proper direction. The towering alps that we for centuries called home, were now engulfed in flames. The meadows, smothered in a dense black smoke.

My heart was beating out of my scales, but I found what little comfort remained in Kinsleigh’s unwavering resilience.

We flew until our wings felt as heavy as our hearts did. Dorigan, Kinsleigh’s youngest brother, sought out a cave only a few miles ahead where we could rest safely for the night. There were only six of us, and no sign of any others at that point. The moon had replaced the sun, as it usually had in the proceeding days, but our world had significantly changed.

Our eggs did not survive the cold altitude of the journey. We were hungry, uncertain of our future, and freshly mourning the loss of our first whelplings. I knew I needed to remain strong, for Kinsleigh and for the rest of our weyr, though it felt nearly impossible.

After gathering enough timber for the night, I entered the cave to find by my surprise Kinsleigh was not there. I suddenly felt the scales on my back rise in yet another overwhelming rush of worry. I called out her name but heard no response in return. Every unfavorable scenario raced through my mind, until I caught the small glimpse of her emerald talons reflecting in the light of the moon. She was sitting on the ledge of the cliff, peering into the abyss. Instantly, the image of her stoic silhouette engraved a permanent mark on my cold beating heart.

I walked towards the ledge where she sat and dangled my hind legs beside hers. No words in that moment needed to be said, but only the comfort of one another’s presence. Kinsleigh laid her head against my shoulder as she whispered to the stars asking for guidance through this upcoming journey, that seemed only full of plights thus far. After a few moments of silence, I gently kissed the scales on her forehead, took her talon and lifted her from the ledge. As we walked back to our temporary home, we were startled by the sound of an unfamiliar whimper.

The noise was coming from nearby, but its proceeding echo perplexed us of its whereabouts. I'm not entirely sure why she thought of this, but then Kinsleigh began to hum the song her mother used to sing to her before sunset when she was just a young dragon.

After the first verse she paused to listen, but the only sound that filled the air was of the pine needles brushing against the bark on neighboring branches. Kinsleigh sang again, this time including the lyrics in her mother’s song. Then we heard it, trembling vocal chords emulating the same tune back to us; however, it continued on with the lyrics that Kinsleigh had not yet sung.

Kinsleigh’s eyes widened in astonishment as she courageously rushed towards the direction of the sound. I stayed close behind her, unsure of what we would find and reluctant to pursue it.

Crouched beneath a heavy branch of snow, we found it. I know we were both asking the same silent questions. How did it get there? What was it? It did not resemble anything we had ever seen before. Its delicate sun-kissed skin lacked scales, and its feather-like hair atop its head seemed bizarre. It had no wings on its back and eyes the same color of the leaves at the end of autumn, but a beak similar to ours.

Kinsleigh tucked in her talons, leaned down and extended her nose towards the small creature. Its small hands trembled as it pressed its back harder against the pine tree where it had found comfort. It was afraid of the unknown, us. The same intrusive feeling we had recently come to know as well. I folded in my wings, bowed my head, and then the small creature began to softly sing the song of Kinsleigh’s mother, and Kinsleigh sang along.

It then took a deep breath and muttered, “my name is Archer”.

The snow covered branches above us began to crack. Something large was overhead. Kinsleigh quickly wrapped Archer under her wing, as we both braced for what we would encounter next. We were face-to-face with The Scarlet Phoenix, and it was clear in that moment our three different worlds would soon intricately merge.