Adapted Ch. III: Rising Flame

Story by Nightshade776 on SoFurry

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#3 of Adapted

The third installment of my Adapted series. Kodiel searches for answers as to why Aelyn won't wake up and the relation of her condition to the Age of the Phoenix.

Well, we're nearing the end of my Adapted series. I'm predicting one, maybe two, more before the conclusion.


Part III of the Adapted Series

"I'm looking for a certain book," I told the angel dragon behind the desk. "What book?" it asked.

"Ash to Fire."

It typed something into the computer in front of it. "It looks like you're in luck! It was just checked in and hasn't even been put back yet. Oh, here it is!" It handed me an ash grey hardcover book with flame red text that read Ash to Fire.

I handed the angel dragon my library card. It scanned the card and handed it back to me. I took it and the book, nodded my thanks, and walked out. The red-gold text sparkled in the morning sunlight as I made my way back to the hospital. It had been almost two weeks since Aelyn had gone comatose. I had started doing research on everything that even sounded related to what was going on. What I understood was that Aelyn somehow traveled during a dream, but her mind didn't make it back and was trapped somewhere else. The marking on my shoulder had also been found on her back. It was a bird. Specifically a phoenix. But it had two tails. Every single book detailing the lore of the phoenix in this world said they had only one tail.

. . .

Through half-closed eyes I neared the end of the book. I reached for the absurdly large mug of coffee on the table beside me and went to drink it. The cold liquid hit my lips and I grimaced. "Ugh. I need to warm this up," I said, rising to my feet. "Hang on." I suddenly remembered something. The night after the fair, Aelyn's body became warmer the more passionate things had gotten. The marking had only appeared after her body heat flared to where it felt like fire. I couldn't risk the book being damaged, so I was gonna have to get creative. I paced the room, looking for a safe source of heat that didn't involve me damaging library property. An idea suddenly popped into my head and I made a call on the hospital's phone.

After a while, a golden-furred, chocolate-scaled eastern dragoness walked into the room. "Hey, Halo. Thanks for coming," I spoke while she pulled me into a hug. "No problem. You said you needed something?" she asked curiously.

"Can you uh...can you breathe fire?"

"Yeah, I can. Why?"

"Well, I have a theory. Since this marking appeared with heat," I uncovered the marking on my shoulder, "why wouldn't it work on a book about a phoenix?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out. What do I need to do?"

I pulled out a metal stew pot and a couple of heat-proof pads. I took off the lid of the pot and placed the book inside. Wrapping one of the pads around the handle, I held the pot out, away from anything flammable. Halo took a deep breath in. When she exhaled, a gentle but intensely hot jet of red-orange flame poured from her muzzle and curled around the pot. It seemed like nothing happened as Halo breathed the last bit of fire. I set the pot on a pile of pads and used a few to remove the book. "Well, thanks any- Woah. Can you grab me a pad and pen?" She grabbed both from a table in the room and handed them to me. I read aloud as I wrote:

"The bird of immortal flame, his name spoken in both legend and myth, revered in the eyes of mortals, looked down from the skies at the world of death below him. It was nothing he hadn't seen before in his many lifetimes. And yet the mortal woman in the streets, hand clutching her swollen belly as she stumbled through the streets, sparked something within him that he didn't know the name of. The woman stumbled and fell. Her gaze rose to the sky as she lay in the dirt. He had never concerned himself with learning the mortals' multitude of languages, but he had learned that where their words failed, their eyes said it all. And hers had no concern for her own fading life, but for the one growing within her. The absence of pride in her eyes drove him to act. As her blue eyes closed, he laid a single feather upon her chest before returning to his nest in the mountains. Time was another mortal invention that he cared not to meddle in. So when the phoenix returned to his nest later in the winter, he was confused to be greeted by an adolescent bearing the same features as the woman from some time ago. The female creature spoke to him in her strange language. He ignored her grunting, primitive speech and looked to her eyes. A ring of flame sparkled in the sea of blue, speaking volumes of her story. Within the flame-ringed orbs, he found gratitude. He found kindness. And he found great sadness. This creature, having defied her destiny, was punished with infertility. Her eyes spoke of knowledge, she knew the great things the firebird was capable of. And yet, they also contained that absence of selfish pride.

The girl returned every time the moon rose, usually with a new gift for him. He watched as the girl aged. There was so much that she could have been doing with her life, but she had elected to return to him daily. The girl--no, the woman showed none of the physical signs of aging, but he could sense her fading life. As she curled against him for warmth, he made his choice. He would finally return the favor with a gift of his own. The flame within him began to dim as he piled the collection of gifts he had amassed over the many years. The last of the eternal flame within him traveled from his chest to his wings, which were wrapped around the pile.

When the morning sun rose, it illuminated the last thing remaining in the nest: a single, red-and-black egg that dissolved into a single ember under the beam of the golden sun and blew away in the wind. The ember of life would travel for centuries until it found potential to bring about hope in the form of a child."

An image burned itself into the final page of the book. It was an egg with a phoenix soaring above it, twin tails circling the egg. And the phoenix had jade green eyes circled by a ring of flame. I put the paper over it and traced the image. The text and image faded from the book as it cooled. "I can't believe that actually worked," I exclaimed. "What now?" Halo questioned.

"If all this has something to do with a phoenix, then maybe the phoenix can help us figure out how to get to her. Do you know how to, or know anybody who knows how to travel into a dream world?"

"Umm...no. I know that it's a pretty complicated process, and that traveling usually involves special mirrors, but that's about it."

"Hmm...I guess I'll have to make another trip to the library."

. . .

Two days, five books, and three trips to the market later, I was ready.

I set the small-table-sized circular mirror on the floor of Aelyn's room in the center of a six-point chalk-drawn star that had a tall violet candle at each point. I pulled four perfectly smooth red stones out of a drawstring pouch and set them on the edge of the mirror at four equidistant points. I checked over one of the leather-bound books once more. Confident in my memory, I set the book on the bed, which I had pushed to the side to make room. "Dae'ahm vit riyall," I chanted. As the ancient words echoed through the room, the lights flickered. "Keda mien xahl etra." The lights flickered again but much more violently before the fluorescent bulb shattered within its casing. "Deim praz lethnaer maen." The door to the bedroom slammed shut. "Sepra de'ahm ne." The candles ignited at each point of the star, blue flames glinting in the polished surface of the mirror. The surface of the mirror rippled like water and glowed red. I walked up to it, carefully stepping over the chalk lines of the star. I looked down into the mirror, which had lost all reflectiveness and instead peered into a grey void. I took a deep breath and stepped onto the mirror. It pulled me in like quicksand, but felt like liquid metal as it passed over my body.

. . .

I came to in a familiar room filled with smoke. Only, it didn't burn my lungs in the slightest. Without the concern of suffocating, I looked around. The bedroom was just as bare as before, not even containing so much as a bed. The walls were still a gentle green, the wallpaper faded and peeling in the same spots. I walked to the blood-red door and turned the silver handle and went out into the grey-carpeted hallway. The smoke still made it hard to see, but it was more like standing in the middle of really dark fog.

This time, I paid attention to the details such as the painting on the wall opposite the door I just left out of. It was an egg--red and black and flickering with flames. But the flames were actually moving. A strange word glittered at the bottom in red-gold text that looped and curled elegantly. "Amathieah," I read, my practice of the ancient language already helping. The word meant 'to cleanse with fire'. My thoughts were interrupted by a loud bird caw that echoed from the living room.

My ears twitched at the sound and I walked down the hall, trying not to stumble on the uneven floor. I looked around once I stepped out of the hall. I looked first to the mantle above the empty fireplace, where I remembered noticing something from when I was here in my dream. It was a miniature statue of a bird in mid-takeoff, clearly lovingly hand-carved from rich mahogany. I tilted my head while inspecting it. It was the phoenix from Ash to Fire. It wasn't just majestic because of the subject, the carving itself was beautiful. Every feather was detailed and sculpted elegantly. I thought back to the glittering word on the painting in the hall. If it had caused the painting to animate, maybe I could do the same with the statuette. I searched my brain for the proper phrase. "Am'de idnatus coahm. (be named)"

"As you wish, traveler." A voice spoke inside my head in the ancient tongue of Co'ahn. "I am the one from ashes. I am the everlasting flame. I am Riyalyn, the phoenix."

"So you do have a name. I am Kodiel, the gentle flame. I come seeking passage."

"I know all, child. It is strange to see a mortal visit in a physical body. However, the person you seek is in a dangerous land. Is she truly worth it?"

"Indeed she is. You once gave a woman something most precious. Well this woman holds something precious of mine--my heart."

"Very well. Hold tight to that passion, it holds more power than you would believe. Arm yourself with the sword there and ready yourself."

I looked to the wall opposite the hall. Sure enough, a steel broadsword hung on the wall in its faded sheath. I pulled it down and braced myself.

The fireplace ignited with blue flame and widened until it was about the size of a door. I steeled my nerves. "Thank you, Riyalyn," I expressed before charging into the flames.

I can't say it didn't hurt. It hurt like Hell. But the pain would be worth it to find her.

. . .

I was propelled into a strange grey fog. There was no ground beneath my paws, nor no air in my lungs. A sickening dizziness washed over me before the void filled with blue flames. I opened my maw to scream from the roaring pain, but no sound came out. I watched as the black fur covering my hands flickered like fire and left the flame pattern on my wrists. The sword in my hand gleamed wickedly in the light as the flames started fading.

I collapsed on the hard surface suddenly beneath me, my body screaming in intense pain. I lay there for a minute, the pain slowly fading. I rolled over onto my back and laboriously sat up. I shielded my sensitive eyes from the bright sun and looked around. "Oh...shit..." I muttered. The leftover drowsiness and nausea evaporated in an instant as I looked into the crazed eyes of an actual four-legged feral wolf. My hand shot to the sword. I backed up from the growling grey wolf and struggled to pull my sword from its sheath. I immediately rose to my feet and finally pulled out the broadsword. Inexperienced in swordplay, I shakily held the tip towards the wolf. The initial shock gave way to pure adrenaline as it leaped at me.

. . .

I limped along the dirt trail, barely conscious and bleeding from several wounds. The trail eventually led me to a small town that looked like it was stuck in the medieval era. However, the tall lamp posts scattered about had strange glowing orbs that cast light on the town. Like...magic. Ignoring the strange glances from the anthros I passed, I made my way to a large canvas tent that had a red cross painted on the side and hoped that the symbol meant the same thing in this strange world. I managed to reach the entrance before collapsing from a combination of blood loss from the wounds and exhaustion from the long journey.

. . .

"Ugh..." I grunted. My entire body was screaming in pain and I couldn't move. "He's awake, can you fetch some water?" a soft and feminine voice called from beside me. I felt something cold and wet press against my forehead as the voice said "welcome back, mister!" I grunted again and opened my eyes. A black cat looked down at me with kind amber eyes. I looked around and took in my surroundings. I saw soft white canvas all around me. I must've been in the tent. I reached up to rub my aching head and slowly tried to sit up. The cat got behind me and helped me sit up on the bare mattress. "Thank you," I voiced. She smiled kindly and nodded. A yellow-scaled winged dragon brought over a waterskin and handed it to the cat. She lifted it to my maw. I greedily gulped down the fresh water. I tilted my muzzle down when I'd had enough. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to you?" she asked me.

"Wolf attack. I'm not great with a sword."

"Never been trained?"

I shook my head.

"Well, I'd recommend getting some. It's dangerous out there, people gotta know how to defend themselves. But, luckily for you, this town is one of the few that offers basic weapon training to anyone who can pick up a sword."

A conflict rose within me. If this world was as dangerous as Riyalyn had claimed, I wouldn't get anywhere without knowing how to use a blade. I knew that Aelyn needed me, but it wouldn't do any good to get myself killed along the way. "Yeah, that would help. I'll check it out later," I conceded, "how long have I been out?"

"Long enough for your wounds to seal up. Well, that was helped with a little healing magic."

The pain did feel remarkably better. I gestured that I was ready to stand. She helped me up with her gentle paws. I took a few wobbly steps and found that I was okay walking on my own. "So, where do I train?" I asked her.

. . .

I raised my sword and lunged at my sparring partner, knocking the sword out of the lizard's hands and sent it clanging to the floor. I swung the tip of my blade to where it lightly pressed against his throat. "Well done, Kodiel!" my instructor, a grizzled wolf with a scar over his eye, praised. I smiled and panted, sheathing my broadsword and offering my hand to help my opponent rise to his feet. The lizard grinned with respect and took my hand. "You've learned quickly," my instructor began, "but there is something holding you back." I frowned.

"That sword does not match your style. It's made for a more...forceful and direct approach. Its weight's slowing you down. I think you could excel with the right weapon."

I broke eye contact and frowned some more.

"Which is why, to commemorate your mastery of my teachings, I'd like to present you with...this."

He reached behind him and produced a sheathed sword. Even in its simple steel scabbard, it was longer and thinner than my broadsword. The hilt was elegant, the grip wrapped in treated black hide. The pommel was a simple silver ring that held a blood-red jewel that glistened in the afternoon sunlight. The cross-guard featured two flat spikes that looked like the flatted blades of two kunai daggers. He held the hilt out towards me. I took it from his hands and drew the blade. The sheer beauty of the blade took my breath away. It had a slight cutaway that curved into the forte of the blade. The fuller was as black as night and was carved to look like black flames trailed the length of the blade until it faded into the central ridge of the foible. The intensely sharp edge gleamed wickedly. The edge caught my attention. There was no way that it could be so sharp and yet so perfect. Unless magic was involved. "A blade made just for you, my star student. The enchanted edge will never dull nor chip, and the blade will never waver. How does it feel?"

I grinned, feeling confident and dangerous. "Perfect. It balances like a dream. It feels as if I'm holding nothing at all almost."

"Good. Take care of your weapon and it shall take care of you." He held out his hand.

I sheathed the beautiful longsword and gripped his wrist. He looked to me with respect in his eyes and bid me a wordless farewell. I released his wrist and walked off, purposefully leaving my broadsword behind so that it could see good use by another of his students.

I said farewell to the people I had gotten to know well and headed off. The town of Yunkai had been my home for the past month as I trained. The townsfolk had even been kind enough as to pay me well in gold in exchange for small favors. Dressed in slightly used half-plate armor over a tan tunic and oak-brown trousers, with a shining new sword in its scabbard on my back, a pouch heavy with coins at my side, and a determined look in my eyes, I put the town to my back and headed off. "I'm coming, Aelyn," I swore.

Following the townspeople's advice, I headed east to the heart of the kingdom of Athalei.

. . .

Instead of a prosperous castle city, the end of my week-long journey was rewarded with a desolate wasteland. My trained senses could detect the dark magic still lingering in the atmosphere. Even the bright, early morning sun could not disperse the gathering shadows. I growled as a chill raced down my spine and my fur stood on end. But I could feel it--Aelyn was here.

Letting go of rational thought, I bolted through the city to the entrance to the castle. I should have known better. Blinding pain shot through my side as an arrow planted itself between the plates of my armor. But I kept running. Another hit true, inches above the first. Tears in my eyes, I pushed forward, even as two more found their mark in my opposite side. A fifth grazed my cheek. A sixth planted itself in my left shoulder, followed by a seventh. Pretty soon, I looked like a fucking pincuishon. I collapsed to my knees and screamed from the pain.

"Tsk tsk tsk," a voice chided. "My my, such persistence. All for a woman." The venomous voice held no deepness of masculinity, nor sweetness of femininity. The distant sound of wings met my sensitive ears. "Did you really think that it would be that easy? You mortals never learn. The flame is mine. I didn't go through all this trouble just to have some toy knight rush straight to my door and ruin it all."

"I don't care about this fucking flame! I want Aelyn!"

"Oh, dear. I guess you don't know anything, do you? The thing you want, and the thing I have, they are one and the same. Now, do me a favor and die."

The wingbeats got louder and louder until they sounded as if they were right behind me. But I couldn't look. And I didn't need to. I felt arms wrap around under mine as I was lifted into the air. Too hurt and not conscious enough to struggle, I tried to shift my weight to make it easier for the creature to lift me in the air. "You are one lucky ass fox, you know that?" a masculine voice grunted from behind me. The adrenaline faded and I blacked out in his arms.

Nightshade