Chapter One: Phoenix Eyrie
Olivia Ollivander was a very strange girl. Many people said so, and often, they weren't polite enough to say it away from her ears. She never seemed to mind though. She never got upset or angry, though the insults and talk about her had grown more and more harsh over her seven years at Hogwarts.
The teasing never surprised her though, and she knew that she did many things that would seem odd to anyone but her, so she accepted the talk as a part of life that was inescapable and settled for just ignoring it. A lot of it died away when her classmates discovered that she would not react to it, and by the time she had completed her NEWT's, most people simply ignored her, which she was fine with.
She never really understood people very well, though she could tell a lot about them just by observing them for a short time.
It was almost second nature to her, to be able to know who was brash, who was kind, who was good at charms or potions, who preferred the indoors to the outdoors, who preferred books to people, and their names, she could always know their names. Those were things that she just knew subconsciously, a gift inherited from her grandfather.
Olivia preferred wild things to people though, and she had spent a lot of her school years in the forbidden forest.
While she didn't understand people, she felt at home with the plants and creatures of the forest.
The trees listened when she talked to them, the wind sang to her, and the creatures were her friends.
Hagrid had given up shooing her out of the woods after her first year, when he saw that she wouldn't harm the woods, and the creatures there wouldn't harm her.
This oddity had been noticed by her classmates as well though, and had led to much more teasing remarks, but those too had died away through the years.
At twenty years of age, her grandfather had sent her to South America as a part of her continual instructions in the art of wand making, which was a talent that ran in her family for generations.
She had spent years studying the effects of different materials, why the wand would choose a specific person, and even what kind of magic it was that allowed the wand to know its rightful owner.
The war had broken out only days after her departure from England, and she had nearly returned when her grandfather stopped replying to her letters, but the old witch she had been sent to study with was ill, and had very little time left to teach Olivia her secrets, so she had stayed.
She had spent almost a complete year there, with no word from her grandfather, and as he was her only remaining family, she was worried, but she knew somehow that he was still alive, and that thought kept her away from the war, which, she was sure, was what he had intended.
In the Peruvian Amazon Rainforest, deep in the center of the thickest area, there was rumored to be a Phoenix Eyrie, which was where Olivia ventured to after the old witch she had been studying with succumbed to her illness.
Olivia had long since learned the speech of beasts, it was something she had worked hard to master through her years at school, and with it, she did not fear any creature she would encounter in the thick forests, and that ability made sure she was never alone.
As she traveled the forest on foot, as she preferred to do as flying was just too rushed to really learn from the creatures and plants there, she was never alone.
The snakes and lizards in the forest slithered along with her, letting her collect the scales they shed, which she labeled neatly and stored in her pack, the only thing she carried with her.
The birds and monkeys brought her fruit to eat and plants useful in potion making, which she also kept.
The larger beasts, wild cats and bears, left her alone for the most part, though once in a while a wild alpaca or a deer would consent to carry her for a distance. She had always been slim and small, so her weight did not burden them much, as they told her.
The bugs left her alone too, though they would sometimes consent to bring her their dead brethren once she had explained to them that other wizards used the dead beetles and bugs in potion making.
Occasionally on her slow journey through the woods, Olivia would encounter a tree with magical properties, most commonly Mahogany, but others too.
She would sit with these trees for hours at a time, sometimes days, and talk to them, get to know them, and let them get to know her. Sometimes they consented to let her take wood from their branches to later fashion into wands, sometimes they would not, and she would thank them for their time and move on.
The Amazon was a wand makers dream. Besides the Phoenix Eyrie, which was mostly just rumor as very few had ever tried to find it, the forest also held the largest population of Unicorns, and Olivia collected every hair she found, some pulled out by plants, others brought to her by the curious and helpful tiny monkeys that always seemed to be about.
The unicorns were shy, but she gained their trust quickly when they saw that she never killed or took without permission, and within weeks of her travels beginning, the herd would bring her their shed horns to collect.
The forest also held dragons, though they were much more secretive and hidden than the unicorns were. A monkey would occasionally bring her scales shed by the dragons, and they would lead her to the molted remains of dragon skin, where she could collect the three heartstrings leftover with each shed. Most dragons lost their old skins once a year, just as most unicorns lost and regrew their horns once a year, but as it was much more difficult to find wild dragons, dragon heartstrings were by far the most rare wand core.
Captive dragons on reserves didn't shed, as they did not have the freedom to grow as large as they would like to, and Olivia had found she disliked the dragon reserves anyway, she did not like seeing any creatures caged, though many of the dragons kept in the reserves had been brought there because they were injured and needed care. She just wished they could be released back into the wild after they were healed.
Though her grandfather had been very adamant that only the three strongest cores be used in his wands, Olivia had ventured away from that thought at a young age. While it was true that dragon heartstring, phoenix tail-feathers, and unicorn hairs did make for the strongest wands for most witches and wizards, she had learned from books and other wand makers that some people were more fitted to other, rarer cores, such as Thestral or Veela hairs, or coral or dittany stalks, and sometimes even Kneazle whiskers or Kelpie manes, as her grandmother had used. These cores, Olivia had found, did not make for weaker wands, as her grandfather believed, but the wands using them were much harder to master and had much more specific qualifications for which witch or wizard they would choose.
Thestral hair could only be commanded by those who could face death with honor, Veela hair only chose those who had very influential personalities, Kneazle whiskers only picked people who were true and honest.
These were things she had discovered on her own since her grandfather did not study them.
By the time Olivia reached the deepest parts of the forest, her pack was nearly full of various lengths of wood, wand materials, potion ingredients, plants, flowers, and a bit of leftover fruit from her previous days meals. She had made good friends with a few creatures who had stayed with her through her four month long journey. One was a very light golden haired tamarin monkey who's fur made him look like a small white lion. He was only about ten inches in length, though his long tail added another eight inches. He had long slim fingers, which he used to grip onto Olivia's long white-blonde hair as she walked. He had come to her at first because her hair color was so similar to his own, and had stayed when she had been kind to him. A green iguana had also chosen to stay with her as she traveled. He was large for his kind, over a foot in length, with an extra ten inches of tail. He weighted nearly eight pounds, and had decided to stay on top of her pack while she walked, using his sharp toes to cling on.
Small frogs would occasionally hitch rides on her for a time as well, but they would leave whenever the large forest birds came to investigate the strange girl.
It was nearing the end of what she knew would be winter back home, but here was just a slightly less humid time of year, when she began to feel the residual heat that marked a phoenix habitat. It started with the flowers, as she had been told. They bloomed larger and more brightly colored around the edges of the eyrie, and the trees thinned, their branches growing high above her head with their large leaves blocking out the sky, but thin enough to let sunlight through.
The air was different here too. Instead of the slightly muggy, heavy air of most of the forest, here it was dry and she began to see more hot weather plants like cactus's and palm trees. There were very few wild animals in the area, the warmer it got, but the iguana traveling with her seemed to appreciate the heat, though the small monkey hid under her hair as she walked.
It was only about a mile from the beginning of the changes before Olivia saw the first flashes of bright colors in the trees. The birds were too fast for her to see clearly, but she knew they watched her, she could feel their intelligent eyes following her.
Finally, after nearly an entire day of walking, Olivia came to a wide valley full of blackened trees that were bare of leaves and small branches. The ground was littered with piles of those though, shaped into nests or dens.
The air was empty and eerily silent around her, and the bright light from the sun was directly above her as she began to walk along the edges of the valley in silence until she came to a tree that overlooked the valley. There she settled in to wait.
The old witch she had most recently studied with, the one who had told her about the eyrie, had said that the phoenix's would test her somehow, usually a test of patience. She would have to wait until they approached her.
Phoenixes, unlike dragons and unicorns, did not shed. Phoenix tail-feathers had to be given, or forcefully taken though Olivia didn't even consider that method of retrieval.
She sat unmoving for most of the afternoon, watching the sun crawl across the sky or the few birds that flew over the empty place. She knew the phoenixes were there, watching her from the trees or hiding spots in their nests and dens. She could see flashes of red and orange on the very far reaches of the valley, but she did not react to them.
The iguana had crawled into her lap and was asleep over her legs. The small Tamarin monkey had disappeared into the forest behind her to gather nuts and berries and bugs, which he sometimes shared with the iguana. She knew he would come back if he wanted to so she didn't look for him.
The sun set in the late afternoon, and Olivia dozed off, leaning against the trunk of the tree she sat under.
In the darkness that came with night, the valley seemed to glow. It wasn't quite fire, but the layers of leaves and branches underneath the burnt trees seemed alight with magic. It didn't engulf the dried twigs and plant life above it, but it warmed the area so much that Olivia eventually began to sweat through her jacket. She remained still though, noticing that, in the darkness, more and more of the large birds were coming out of the woods to go to their nests.
They didn't approach her the first night, and eventually she curled up under the tree, using her pack as a pillow, and went to sleep.
She woke in the morning as the first rays of sunlight hit her face, and sat up slowly, resuming her place by the tree. The Tamarin monkey had brought her three bananas, one of which she ate, one went into her pack, and the last she peeled and set aside for the small creature, who quickly devoured it.
With the rise of the sun came the rise of the phoenixes. Today they did not hide from her, but rather went along with their business as usual, perching on the burnt trees and ignoring her.
Again, she waited all day and night.
On the morning of the third day, they finally approached her, and she smiled softly at the first few birds to perch near her. They did not speak to her in the way that other creatures did, but she knew they were intelligent by human standards, so she spoke to them.
She explained why she had come and what she desired, ending with a request so they would know she was not demanding the feathers from them.
At the end of her speech, they left, flying over the valley as they began a soft song that made the hairs on the back of Olivia's arms rise.
She watched in awe as over a hundred of the fire colored birds rose from nests and surrounding trees to join in the song. They were beautiful, and she knew that even if she received nothing from them and never returned here, this would be something she never forgot.
Over the course of the day, phoenixes approached the tree she had taken refuge under. They perched on the branches over her head and sometimes on the ground around her, and one by one they came into her circle of shade cast by the leaves above her head.
They would stare into her eyes with their own black ones, sometimes for only a few moments, other times for long minutes, searching for something in them though she wasn't sure what. Many of them would then turn, using their sharp beaks to pluck out a single feather from their beautiful tails, then they would drop it in front of her and she would thank them. Then they would leave and the next would approach her.
Sometimes they didn't leave anything, turning to leave after staring into her eyes. She would thank those creatures as she did the ones who left her feathers, knowing that they had their reasons for not giving her anything. Some of the majestic birds gave her more than one feather, and a few even approached her after leaving feathers, their large eyes watering, and allowed her to collect a few of their tears. They knew that humans valued the healing properties in their tears, and though she hadn't asked them for such a gift, they must have known she would value the tears as well.
By nightfall she had almost two full vials of tears, and dozens of feathers. She tucked the items into her pack carefully, and decided to stay for another night in the warm valley before starting her return trip home.
She could have traveled the distance in less than a second if she used magic, but she had found over her years of studying wandlore, that the unfinished cores and woods were most easily shaped and fashioned when they were exposed to less magic. She wasn't sure why that was true, but it was, and traveling without magic in the rain forest was an adventure in its own, as though she was earning the right to use the materials she collected.
Now that they had deemed her acceptable for the most part, many of the phoenixes stayed near her after sunset. They seemed to glow with magic as much as the ground beneath them did. The youngest ones were the most curious about her, coming close enough to pull on her hair and clothes with their beaks at times, though they were careful not to scratch her as they did so.
The birds, when they became old, burst into flame and were reborn from the ashes until such a time that they decided to move on from this life and then their ashes were blown into the wind. They could, if they wanted to, find a mate and lay eggs though, and the young phoenixes had much lighter feathers, almost yellow in color. With each rebirth the feathers would darken until they were deep red, nearly black, though many of the creatures moved on to the next life before they reached that color as it took centuries to accomplish. She saw two of the dark birds among the flock, one of which had given her a feather.
The morning of her fourth day in the eyrie, Olivia finally left her place under the tree and began her trek along the edge of the valley, the iguana on top of her pack, the small Tamarin monkey curled around her neck underneath her hair, his tail wrapped around the collar of her shirt and his long fingered paws gripping the strap of her pack that wrapped over her chest to make the weight easier to carry.
She walked the full day's journey back to the very edges of the area affected by the phoenixes, where the flowers bloomed bigger than average, and the air began to grow humid, and though the sun had long since set, she continued her journey, hoping to reach a copse of willow trees she knew to be only half a mile ahead where she had spent the night on her trip in.
When she finally reached the trees, she found that a phoenix was there as well, waiting for her. It was one of the two largest birds, its feathers a deep red, near black, though she could tell, somehow, that it was the one who had not given her a feather.
She bowed to the bird, in slight awe of its age and beauty, then knelt in front of him. He regarded her for a moment with his piercing black eyes, then he spoke to her, not in the way other creatures did, through chirps or body movements, but directly into her mind.
Very few humans travel to our lands, little witch, the voice said in her mind, the words ringing with a deep, musical tone. And many of those who do, come only to steal. You, however, come to learn and to create. We reward those we venture this far and come with a pure heart.
"I require no further reward than the feathers you have already given," Olivia said in a soft voice. "As I said yesterday, I only wish to create wands."
Which is why my clan has decided to give you another gift, the great bird said, dipping his head slightly. We are the Flamewing clan, the largest clan of our kind, and the most sought by your kind, though few of you are permitted to find us. We give you this gift knowing that in the future you will require more of our feathers to create your magic wands, and we wish to help you again.
He moved aside, his long tail feathers shifting to reveal a single, pure black shape about the size of both of Olivia's fists held together. He nodded to it with his large head, and she very gingerly picked it up, not sure exactly what it was. It pulsed with a strong heat, filling her whole body with warmth as she looked at the smooth surface.
This egg holds the youngest of my clan, the bird said, and Olivia looked up at him with awe, the egg held carefully in her palms. We gift her to you knowing that you will care for her. When she hatches she will know how to return here, and we will give her our feathers to bring to you.
"I don't know how I can thank you enough," Olivia said, her voice full of awe and gratitude.
She will hatch when she is ready, there is not a designated length of time for the hatching to occur. It may be days or years, the bird explained, his feathers ruffling in the slight wind. Until then, keep the egg near you and she will draw strength from your spirit.
Olivia nodded in understanding.
Farewell then, young witch, he said, and spread his wings gracefully, disappearing into the night sky.
Olivia set the egg carefully onto the ground, shrugging off her pack and unrolling the sleeping bag tied to the bottom of it as she prepared to sleep. The egg glowed just slightly in the darkness, the same way the phoenixes and their nesting ground glowed, and Olivia made sure it was wrapped carefully into a spare hat she had in her pack before she fell asleep.