Chapter 7

The Phoenix Dream

The world Corrin found herself in was as white as beach shells, endless as far as the eye could see. The sky was white and void of detail. The ground, the dirt and grass was absent, only white, erased from the world, with no sand to walk upon. The entirety of the world she knew appeared to be erased from existence.

"The ritual of passing is complete," announced one of the four Speakers of the Fire.

Corrin turned to look at the women.

"Where am I?" She questioned.

The Speakers began to hum together, a sonorous hymn to keep the Phoenix at bay perhaps.

"Why is this world so empty? So void of detail?"

Corrin continued to ask questions curiously.

"For your benefit. The beauty of this world is blinding in power," announced a loud voice, coming from off in the distance.

Corrin took in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the presence of what she hoped was air.

"Is that why the Speakers are blind? Did you blind them?" Corrin questioned.

The young girl stepped forward, following the voice. Each step felt weightless, as if no pressure was against her feet. The humming of the Speakers was melodic, calming the nervous girl.

The voice in the distance began to quietly sing along to the hymn, allowing Corrin to follow the sound. His tone was eery and unsettling.

"The song is beautiful," Corrin announced, "It reminds me of a song that was sung to me when I was very little."

"Does it? That is peculiar," spoke the voice.

The singing ceased. "Why are you here?" questioned the voice.

"I was sent here," she replied, "Our people have asked me to request-"

"Do not speak of any of your petty demands," interrupted the voice from afar, "I grow tired of hearing it."

"I was only told to seek our returns," Corrin finished.

A man appeared, sitting alone on a bed in front of the young girl. His feet hung over the far side of the bed, with his head hanging low, sullen. The bed was posh, and constructed of nothing Corrin had seen before with pillars and thin curtains surrounding the bed, finely crafted pillows and silk sheets of spider webs and cotton. Her bed at home was simply stuffed hide and soft furs.

Corrin approached the man with caution, stepping towards the bed. Her feet pressed against the white floor, feeling like solid ground, no wind or distant sounds present. The place felt eerie to Corrin.

"I was told to seek our returns," spoke the girl softly as she approached the man.

"If I hear of your neverending demands again I will burn down your kingdom, I will burn it to ash and soot," he yelled abruptly in a fit of rage, "I will not endure it. Not ever. Have your people not learned? Do they not fear my power?"

Corrin carely approached the man at the far side of his bed. She wasn't certain if this man was the Red Bird, or just a strange man within the dream.

The man had hair of dark shades of red, and wore an outfit of what looked like fine black silk with embroidered stitchings of ancient Asla’ati symbols. A slender Aurana hung on his side sheathed in a black scabbard, which stretched across the bed. The sword itself was impractical and unwieldable. The blade of the sword alone was nearly double Corrin's height in length.

‘What purpose did a blade that long serve him,’ she wondered.

The Speakers of Fire began to hum again, continuing to lull the Phoenix asleep, allowing Corrin more time in the dream realm.

"Why do you sit here all alone?" she questioned, curious and naive, ignoring that the man was quick to anger.

The man looked up for the first time since Corrin had met him, and stared into her bright blue eyes. His face lightened up from an irritated frown to a curious smile.

"Ama had eyes like yours," he said. "Have you heard of her?"

"Excuse me?" replied Corrin.

"Have you heard of the tale of Ama the Spirit Tamer?" he questioned, patting the bed with his hand for Corrin to take a seat.

The young girl hesitated to sit. The man patted the plush woven fabric of the bed once more.

Corrin sat down on the bed beside the man, "Yes, I have heard the stories of my people."

"Can you imagine her for me? Imagine her from the legend you've heard. Can you picture her here with us?" He asked.

"I’ve never met her," she replied.

"But, what would you imagine her to look like?"

"Well, she was the most beautiful woman in the many realms," she replied, "a beauty that caused realms to war over her, it’s told."

A gorgeous woman appeared from Corrin's imagination. She stood in front of the two, gracefully moving to the sounds of the humming of the Speakers of the Fire. She dressed in majestic clothes of fine silk.

"She's beautiful," he replied, "You have a beautiful imagination, very strong, very pure."

"This is how I imagined her to look in the legends I've been told."

"Do you believe these legends are true?" he replied, "That the stories happened as they were told?"

"I believe in some form they are, but they change over time. I think each storyteller adds their own story to what was once fact," she answered honestly, "this changes the story, and over time true legends are very different from what they once were."

"Do you recall what happened to her?" replied the man as he stared intently, examining Corrin's body language.

Corrin swallowed nervously and brushed her ashen hair, combing it with her fingers.

"Well, in the legend that I was told," she paused.

The man’s stare made her uncomfortable. She glanced over at his weapon belted to his waist.

"In the legend I was told... the Phoenix engulfed her in flames," she gulped.

"The Phoenix engulfed her in flames. So, in that legend the monster killed her. But, why?" he questioned, intrigued.

"Well, you see. It was her husband Mahrot, the Exiled King, who caused it to happen. In a story of love and tragedy, Mahrot sought to cure his wife Ama of a rare plague. Ama was a known traveller of Vasylvia, the realm of Spirits. There, she caught a disease and her skin became that of ash. Ama’s beauty was no more, and in the legend that I was told a feather was her only cure."

"Did the Exiled King manage to get this feather from the monster?"

"He did, and with it he cured Ama of her plague."

"The Exiled King was a hero."

"Yes, he did it for love," replied Corrin.

"But, what happened next?"

"The power of the Phoenix cured Ama, but awoke the Bird. The moment that the feather came of use- it shook the realm, the Phoenix who woke, saw that a feather had been stolen and emerged from an inferno of fire and flames, hot enough to melt the world. It seared everything that we had built. The enraged Phoenix destroyed everything that the Asla’ati held dear until only sand remained, and that sand became glass."

"And what of Ama?"

"She was lost in the inferno."

"And what of the Exiled King?"

"He was lost in the inferno as well," answered Corrin confidently.

The man looked away in thought, and then returned to making eye contact with the girl.

"What if I told you that Mahrot was the true villain."

"He was, sort of, but it’s a tragedy. He is the reason that our nation fell, but he did it for the love of his wife."

"Yes, sure. In that legend he did and his actions caused the realm to be met with flames. But, what I mean is what if Mahrot killed Ama, not the monster. In the story I know, Mahrot killed Ama, but she was not his wife. She was mine."

"You... married Ama?" questioned the girl, "Ama was your wife? So the legend is fake."

"It is, but it has truth as you said. Mahrot had my wife killed in the Ivory Mountains, her death is what woke me, and her death is what caused the realm and nation to burn."

Corrin sat up from the bed in shock, which made the man smile.

"So, you really are the Phoenix?!" she replied, "I knew it had to be, but why the human form?"

"It is my dream, afterall. I chose to be myself, the person I truly am- or used to be..."

"No other person has seen this form, have they? My people have no tales of the Phoenix being a man."

"The dreams of a God are blinding in power. You are the first to see me as anything other than the Winged God."

"Why didn't the dream realm blind me as well?

"A favour for a deed done long ago. I repaid my debt to your family."

"You really knew my family?" asked Corrin.

"Indeed, ask me something else."

Corrin rested her finger on her chin, thinking.

"But, I want to know about my family!"

"--something else," he interrupted.

Vanon-Atem smiled, looking away.

"Why do you feast on our people? Why do you wither our resources and burden us?"

"I have no control over myself. I do not act for the Winged God- the Phoenix. I'm simply the conscious in the back of the mind of a beast with needs."

"Who are you then?" asked the girl, "How does a man become such a beast?"

"My name is Vanon-Atem. A name you will not hear beside the bonfires or during your festivals and dances. I am a man from an unsung story. As an Aslatin man I was undefeated. My Aurana, the Red Feather, lost no fight. It was until the day I met the demon, Mahrot, that I faced my first loss. He took my human tongue and replaced my mouth with a beak and a hunger for flesh. It was soon after that I sprouted wings and feathers and flames. He had me silenced, capable of only squawks and caws," he laughed, shaking his head. "If only I knew the penalty for slaying a God was to replace it, I would of done so differently."

"Now I endure the demands of your people in my bloody dreams, as if there was no end to my suffering," he continued.

"What is your name?" added Vanon-Atem, curious.

"Corrin," replied the girl, with a nervous smile.

"It is, isn't it," he smiled. "Well, I like that name, Corrin. It is a name of great people before you. What else can you tell me about yourself?"

"I am of the Nagalia clan, a dying clan with only two branches left on its home-tree."

"Ah, yes. I remember the name of the clan now. What of your mother? Your father?"

"I never knew them. I was raised by my grandfather."

"A shame that is."

"Can you tell me who my parents are? Do you know where they are?" pleaded the girl.

Vanon-Atem let out a slight chuckle, remembering past times.

"I could, but you will find out soon enough," he chuckled.

Corrin rubbed her arm nervously, unsure of the meaning behind his words.

"What if I said I had a task for you, would you take it?" he added, as he stroked his clean shaven chin.

"I would."

"Without knowing of the task, you would?"

"I would," she insisted.

"It is not easy nor safe."

"I said I would," she replied with an irritated look, "What is it?"

Vanon-Atem let out a big smile, which quickly shifted to a serious expression.

"I need you to find Ama, to bring me my wife."

"But, she is dead, isn't she? How would I go about finding her?"

"You know of a way."

"I do?" questioned the girl with a puzzled expression.

"You were given a stone from your mother, yes?"

Corrin nodded, narrowing her eyes. ‘How did he know,’ she wondered.

"It’s in a box in my room, but I wasn't certain if my mother left it for me."

"It has been trying to show you the way for some time now."

"But, even if I do find the place, how do I bring you someone who has passed away?"

"She has passed on- gone from us, but not entirely. She lives on in Vasylvia; Realm of the Spirits. Find her there, among the Spirits, and bring her back to me. In return, I will grant you one of any wish- any wish of your choosing."

"Wish? Are you saying you can grant wishes?" questioned Corrin, who rose up, astonished.

"A Red Bird can, and does occasionally for the exchange of a particular rare stone. A stone of black oily gloss and silk to the touch, but for you I will do without."

"What sort of wishes can you grant?"

"For you, I will exchange a wish for a wish. Once you’ve brought me home my wife I will grant you the wish of your choosing."

"But, can you not wish for her to return yourself?" questioned the girl.

The man shook his head, "My wishes have no effect, not anymore."

"So, Ama will restore your ability to grant wishes? Well then, how do I find her? How would I figure out where to go?"

The man reached behind Corrin and pulled a necklace out from under a fluffed pillow on his bed. The necklace was a simple black rope with a shining blue bead. Holding it in his hand, he reached over the girl and tied it around her neck.

"The Bluestone Pendant. A gift from the Phoenix."

"This will help me find her?"

"It will."