Alexander like any boy in a story was not in fact an ordinary boy. He looked like any other Virginian foster child, skinny in untidy clothes. Hair that was in need of a visit to a barber and a mischief but brilliant smile.

Appearances do deceive and never tell the entire truth. As ordinary as he looked, he had extraordinary and terrible secrets. But with every secret came lies to hide them. At times, people who cannot understand something hid the secrets for him, by lying to themselves. If anything, that made his situation easier. You see, things that are unexplained become fragments of "mistakes" or "imagination". Excuses that your mind and eyes were playing tricks on you.

Yet, whether you believe in such things you must at least hear this boy's story. After all, Alexander will always be the reason behind these strange things, logically or… magically.


Consequences after hard work were always Alexander's greatest disappointments. To put in so much time, energy and sweat into perfecting something so amazing, but still getting punishments. Okay, maybe changing the color of the Charles Fountain on Sir Charles's birthday using components of dog food did end up attracting a lot of dogs. The Sir Charles statue and the water were a muddy brown with chunks of the dog food still visible and frankly edible. In which it lead to angry pet owners and park recreation staff cleaning up the aftermath of digestion. But Sir Charles's favorite color was oddly and truly brown.

Or the time when the fireworks were cancelled at the Fourth of July celebration at the seaside, so Alex somehow was able to cause a chemical reaction using some nearby materials and setting them on fire. They exploded pretty high up in the air and were spectacular. Until the remains of the spectacle crashed down and set a whole row of boats on fire. And the main dock did fall apart.

And there was the time when it was really hot that day in August, so Alex was able to defuse the water sprinklers without the school fire alarm going off. Well without going off for 10 minutes. By then everybody and everything was already soaked plus the addition of the firefighters arriving. Yeah those months of detention were not as fun.

Still, there were incidents in which not even Alexander could explain. Once he had made the power go out in not just his house, but the entire town. A three days long blackout. Several occasions, he'd been able to squeeze his way out of punishments with unusual last second disruptions like exploding glass and things catching on fire. Yes, starting fires seemed to be his thing, even though he didn't have matches or any chemicals that could on him. These abrupt things that were known to happen because of him were the reasons behind his frequent home movements.

Alexander understood that nobody wanted him already, but add him being a "troubled child" to the endless list of flaws- living arrangements were the worst. Sometimes worse than the "discipline" he got from his "foster parents" for "misbehaving". Long-sleeved shirts, baggy pants and unruly hair were all lousy attempts at hiding the scars and bruises which covered him. A kid of 11 years, the foster system was hell.

Some of his secrets were terrible, but there were some that were just so unbelievable yet amazing. They were extraordinary things that were only his, his secrets. One of them was of course Fawkes.

Like it was only yesterday, Alexander could still remember the beautiful and calming songs which lead him to the flaming bird deep in the woods. It was dusk and Alexander was only 7 years old, trying to escape from the abuse of his foster parent. Bruised and with a terrible gash on his shoulder, the poor boy was running blindly in to the woods. Trying hard not to cry, he only wanted to be as far as possible from his foster home. And farther away from any other foster care people in the world.

Stumbling through the underbrush, it was dark and quiet. At every crack of a branch or rustle, Alex jumped. He froze whenever an animal scurried under his feet or flew above him in the tall tree branches. The cold seemed to bite that early autumn night, but Alex had no other choice but to keep moving. And the entire time, he couldn't stop himself from imagining the monsters in the dark just waiting to eat him for supper. Then he heard something soft and low.

A sound that was so pure and… calming. Warmth spread through him and as he tried to locate it, the sound became a song. It was so nice, a beautiful serenade of hope and warmth. And safety. Following it, Alex then came to a clearing. And high on a branch sat a magnificent beast.

A flaming bird of gold was singing itself in the lonely woods. Frozen to his spot, Alex looked at peculiarly, astonished by such a being. Noticing him there, the bird stopped and cocked its lovely head. Alex only stared back in admiration and dared not to move in case the bird flew away.

Moments passed before the bird again began its song, but black eyes still trained on Alex. He slowly sat down in the fallen dried leaves, still in awe. As if enjoying the audience, the bird's song became louder and fuller. Alex had never felt so safe and warm in his life; happiness seemed to pour into him. That night, Fawkes accepted Alex's company and as a token for listening let his tears heal Alex's injuries.

From then on, no matter how far Alex moved around, he always visited Fawkes. Their friendship and loyalty for each other was really something. Alex understood the beautiful intelligence of the mythical bird, but never truly knew why it came to these woods in a suburb Virginia.

In the passing years, the two enjoyed each other's company and helped Alex think that were really things out there that were… magical. And that he might just be as special.


It was summer, a hot day this year. But still Alex wore a thin long-sleeved shirt and jeans. He was sweating and very annoyed. These days his moods have been really swinging. Yesterday, he was really considering the fire alarm again during summer school. And he was very likely to punch the next person to ask why he was dressed the way he was.

Sighing and staying to the shade, he trudged down the street from his summer classes. It wasn't a matter of him being unintelligent that he was attending summer school but more of a matter of discipline. There were just not enough detentions, community work and serving days to pay for his troublemaking. In fact, he was one of the brightest students in the county with the highest grades and test scores. He had skipped several grades and will be attending his last year at middle school as an 8th grader. It was just that getting bored and not being challenged enough mostly caused his impulse for antics. And some of it was the uncontrollable and unexplained incidents that happen.

The bright side was that he could go visit Fawkes and spend the rest of his day in the tree house at the woods. And his current foster parents won't care as long as they think he has long hours to spend in summer school.

His living quarters this time around weren't so bad. He at least got a room and not a closet or attic. Daily meals and not food rations or leftovers. His clothes were still hand-me downs and old. And besides the smack on the back of the head and a few name callings, no abuse was inflicted. And the best thing was that this foster home was in good old Little Charleston. Most of his foster homes have been here and near the woods. Visiting Fawkes was now a daily routine and only a 10 minute walk.

Alex's rucksack bounced against his back as he went off the path in the park and he cut into the woods. Most people get lost here and there were some accidents of people falling straight off the cliff and into the sea. But Alex and Fawkes's treehouse was a good way off from the cliff though it did face the sea. They even found an old pathway that led to a hidden cove along the cliff wall.

Humming to himself, his mood gradually improved. And he then stepped into the clearing where he first met Fawkes, and just like that night, the phoenix sat high above on a tree branch. In greeting, Fawkes whistled a note in which Alex returned.

"Hey ol' boy! Come on I got ya some treats," grinning he walked under Fawkes's branch and headed to a large thick oak that held the treehouse. Home sweet home, Alex couldn't help but think as he climbed up the rough branches to the rope ladder that was hidden in the thick leaves of the tree.

Hoisting himself up, he unslung his rucksack before taking his seat among the piles of books and stuff and onto his worn out bean bag. Sighing with content, his eyes swept the treehouse.

Books of all sorts from comics, textbooks and novels were stacked about. He had fairy lights hanging from the ceiling along with all kinds of dream catchers and his own wind chimes made of all kinds of objects. On the walls hung pictures of art, notes and papers of information that he liked. In the corner, jars and cans held an assortment of items. Screws, nuts, coins, writing utensils, feathers, wires and just about anything he finds. There was also a box of clothes and extra cloths just in case. He even managed to have a small cooler which he filled with ice weekly to keep snacks and drinks. These days he had to refill the ice every day since the weather has been rather warm.

Fawkes swooped in and landed on his perch before flapping his wings and doing a circle around the room. Lightly landing on Alex's shoulder, he then nibbled on his ear.

"Oh yeah! Your treats," Alex laughed as he opened the rucksack and pulled out a plastic bag. Untying it, he opened the bag to a variety of candy.

"I distracted old Mister Tuck with a crash of his table which had all his knick knacks on it. He rushed to it and everybody was so engrossed with all the glass and papers that I was able to snatch this bag of treasures from behind his desk," he grinned reimagining the whole scene. He then slipped his hand and grabbed a few candy bars. Pulling off their wrappers and tossing them into one of the nearby cans, he held them up for Fawkes.

The phoenix let out a sweet tune, took the chocolates in his beak and flapped to his perch to enjoy his favorite treats. Alex laughed as he grabbed a comic book and ice cold water, then settling back on the bean bag. For the rest of the lazy and hot afternoon, the two enjoyed themselves to sweets and a few merry summer tunes.

His good days all consisted of candy, reading and Fawkes's company. He knew he'd never endure life if it weren't for Fawkes. All the beatings, insults and loneliness from people were a great burden. Being an unwanted orphan and never fitting in wasn't such a great life. His occupations of figuring things out and using them were in some way a purpose for him. If he wasn't going to fit in, then he would stand out in the most brilliant and clever way. Stand out and stand above, his own sort of mantra.

He was different in a way that was unexplainable. Fawkes has told him stories, but he wasn't sure if magic really did exist. A small part of him did believe, for there was Fawkes singing to him, a flaming phoenix for God's sake. Yet, Alex was too scared to actually get his hopes up. Things never tend to happen the way he wanted or happen in a good way. And he never thought that he'd get his proof, much more soon this very summer.


"If it isn't the little mudbrain. He thinks he sooo clever and older! Ha he's a fail just like everything he does," Aspen Gory sneered. His group of friends snorted and laughed as Alexander walked by. Breathing through his nose, he told himself to ignore.

"Hey! Set anything on fire today? Or are you saving your grand explosives for summer school?" Aspen pushed himself off the parking lot wall and stepped after Alex. "Hey! I was talking to you!" and he then threw an empty soda can. It bounced off Alex's shoulder, and he couldn't make himself not stop.

"No, it's not even half past 12 yet. Too early. And I'm actually planning on setting your damn house on fire, by the way," Alex smirked at Aspen.

"You little mudborn!" Aspen then charged at him, his fist aiming for Alex's face. But in quick speed, Alex sidestepped the larger boy and managed to trip him. The burly boy smacked face flat on the concrete. And for a 13 year old, he can sure cry out louder than a hungry shrieking baby.

"ROSEWELL I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Aspen stumbled up and his group of croons circled Alex. But being clever and always prepared he smacked a stink bomb at their feet. But this was a stink bomb with real skunk spray which splattered all over the bullies. And in quick timing, Alex bounded down the street and headed toward summer school. And for once, he was glad to be on time.


Alex should've known those boys wouldn't leave him alone. Aspen's hulking gang wouldn't let him go this time. They had grouped up in front of the school, waiting for him to appear. Peering out the window, he saw the other summer school students walk out and leave.

3:00 P.M.

He was supposed to be on his way now to Fawkes. He walked to the other end of the school to escape from the other doors, but his plan was cut off. For once in their life, they actually thought things out. They had made sure that he couldn't get away without a good beating. 4 more brown stained boys stood cross-armed and waiting for him at these doors.

Damn. I'm stuck this time.

As he returned to his last class, he formatted different ideas and plans. Distractions, different escape routes and just plain waiting them out. These boys are lazy and have the attention span of a fly, surely they'll eventually leave. They will just think he didn't come to his classes or he already left another way. They aren't that bright anyway.

Mr. Tuck had already left, his things were gone and the classroom lights off. Alex chose the room to be his bunker. Returning to the classroom, he made sure one window was open and barricaded the door. He then sat near the window and got his extra assignments out. While keeping watch, he completed the work. Weighing his time, he kept double-checking if they left.

The gang was obviously getting restless; they even circled around the school looking in through windows. Yet, they were confident in their positions. Getting annoyed, Alex was starting to think he should just face them off.

Putting his papers away, he took inventory of his supply. 5 stink bombs, two slingshots, 3 packs of poppers, several paperclips and rubber bands. A coil of wires, some batteries and of course matches. He grinned, for him this was all he needed. If they want to wage war, then war is what they will get.


"AHHHHH!"

The stink bomb slingshots and rubber bands found their targets. Jumping out of the window, Alex ran with a broad grin. Dusk was just falling, but his escape was great! He was able to lure the gang of bullies into the classroom and had them attacked. The overpowering smell of skunk spray and the stink stench lingered on him.

Science, you never go wrong with the basics! Alex skidded around the school corner, and collided into a something solid. Aspen Gory.

"Oof!" Alex fell back but was grabbed from the collar, hard.

How? My calculations can't be wrong- there were exactly… Oh I didn't check how many I actually lured into the room. Crud.

Aspen lifted Alex off his feet from the collar and then swung his fist. Blood gushed down Alex's face, his nose throbbing badly. Aspen wasn't alone, his friends all joined in the hitting.

Alex couldn't defend himself or reach for anything, only keeping his arms over his head. The punches and slaps just kept coming as the gang laughed mockingly. Enjoying their punching bag, they slammed Alex hard onto the grass and began kicking.

Pain blossomed all over his body, but he gritted his teeth and didn't dare make a sound. He's received just as worse as these beatings; so he silently accepted the sharp jabs.

Then finally, Aspen called them off. But something told Alex that it wasn't over just yet. Crouching down, the burly boy jerked something from around Alex's neck. His only true treasure: Fawkes's feather.

Aspen's eyes widened at the red gold feather at the end of the twine. He tried to pull the necklace off, but the twine held fast. One of his friends placed his foot against Alex's chest as to keep him down.

"Stop!" Alex groaned, trying to push Aspen's hands. But the beefy boy only sneered and pulled harder. Alex struggled to fight off; he will not let this go.

"Pretty boy, quit it! What ya' tie it up with?" Aspen grunted has the twine cut into Alex's neck. Protesting, Alex's panic increased at the fear of losing the feather.

"STOP!" Alex's anger lashed out of him and everything seemed to slow down. The feather burst into flames and the fire leaped up at Aspen. It was as if they had swallowed him up, his screams tearing through the evening air. And chaos truly broke out.

The other boys began to scream and scattered. Alex was breathing hard, he tried to pull himself up but he could only crawl backwards on his elbows. He scrambled back, his eyes on Aspen's flailing body.

The fire enveloped boy was throwing himself on the ground and rolling, trying to extinguish the flames. But they seemed to glow brighter and grow bigger. Alex whimpered, his mind reeling. Then in the darkness, a hand grasped his shoulder.

Looking up, a man kneeled down beside him. His face was in shadows, but his grin was visible. With some kind of stick, he tapped Alex's chest. Then the man stood up and gently pulled Alex with him.

"Run," the man's deep voice spoke before pushing Alex toward the street. Somehow, Alex's body was still able to respond before his brain. His legs pounded on the concrete as he ran. His rucksack was somehow on his back again, bouncing between his shoulder blades. As he left the light of the fire behind, he could still hear the echo of screams.

When he made it to the woods, Fawkes was waiting for him. He emitted some high-pitched notes, telling Alex danger was still close. With his brain buzzing with the aftershock of the events, Alex followed Fawkes's light in silence. But when he made it to the treehouse, Alex realized the most peculiar thing.

Of all the crazy and unusual things that have occurred today, the most was the blood red rose tucked in his shirt pocket. Right where the man tapped his chest and the twine of the charred feather still hung.