The New Chronicles
Phoenix Chronicles Remastered
"Little birdie crying again? Those tears are powerful, why waste them?" each droplet that hit the ground sizzled and a small flower grew where it landed.
"Daddy's little treasure, no one will love you now. Lost, so tired; give in. You have nothing left. You're only trouble." A voice beckoned him back to where he had apparently came, calling to him so quietly. He swore he was insane. Each sound made him jump slightly and every jump made a new part of him hurt as though it had just gotten there. He was surrounded by ash. The ash was wet and clumped.
"Go home little Phoenix, no one needs you anymore"
The boy curled tighter in his ball. Everything hurt so much. The change. He was told it would only hurt to reject it, but he accepted it, he was ready to be what he was meant to be. He had no idea how he knew any of this; It came to him out of the blue like an idea for a new story.
"Come home Phoenix it is time."
The voice was different he opened his eyes to see an old man lifting him to his feet and hoisting him to his shoulder to help him stand.
"Why help me. You must know I'm not meant for good. You know who I am don't you? Am I 'Phoenix'?" The boy asked shakily. his ivory skin wriggling tight and wet against his bones. The boy was clearly malnourished and had no idea who he was.
"No boy. That is your title your brand, you have been blessed; adopted by a god who granted you a new life." The old man seemed even more fragile than the boy, with a long beard and bones he also was nothing, but skin and bones. Dripping wet, a rod in one hand that held him standing while he held up the boy with the other. The boy was slightly shorter than him now, but soon the old man knew he would be larger than life. The boys redhair hung over his eyes he held a dark expression and the feeling that he wasn't supposed to be here. Not here as in this place, but here alive. What happened? The rain beat harder as the boys tears dried up.
"I'll make you a hero. I'll teach you what you need to know and when the times comes, destiny will find you." The old man began to mumble as the boy faded out, finally feeling secure as the pain subsided. "One at a time the rain drops fall, so may the skies come when he calls, one day the earth will fall, opposing love whispers hope on wings of final breath, with the red skies day a heart doesn't forget, once again the light returns to a world of demise, on earth's last day the Phoenix cry again will fall." and the boy, Phoenix, his head slumped toward the man's shoulder as his eyelids finally fell closed.
The boy awoke by a fire in a small hut, he was laying on a small pile of blankets on the floor a few feet away. Examining his body it appeared to him that his skin and bones form had faded away there was some muscle there, not much, but about the amount you'd expect on a seven year old. He sat up straight to the smell of stew.
"Ah look who awakes, I didn't think you'd die again so soon." The old man stood by the fire stirring the stew slowly. The boy cocked his head and his hair blocked his vision suddenly.
"I need to do something about this." He said in regards to the red mess dangling from his forehead. Suddenly a more pressing matter hit him. 'Who am I?' He didn't remember anything before those voices who called him back beyond the dark nothingness which was the last thing he remembered.
"Elwyn Peirce" The man said without hesitation. "You're the adopted son of the fallen god Grethyl, god over light or rather lord of light since he is no longer a god. His other children tend not to like you and are most likely the cause of your current state. In short you're a hero, a demon slayer." The old man paused to see the boys reaction and the boy acted as though he already knew that, somewhere deep down, his age is what really got him. He couldn't be older than seven. "You were seven the last time you died." The old man said loosely. "The first time you were three. In a couple of days you'll look sixteen again and be back to your old self." He understood now, he was sixteen. He must be regenerating. He still didn't know how he knew that and what's worse how the old man knew that. A sharp pain shot through his arm. Then his leg and eventually all of his limbs felt like they were on fire and they grew very slowly, however fast considering the normal rate of an inch over a year. His were growing about an inch a minute. The pain was intense and only got worse when the growing subsided and he looked like a scarecrow again and he again couldn't move. He fall back on his pallet of blankets, gritting his teeth from the pain that the stretching of his muscles caused him. A girl roughly his age rushed to his side carrying some clothing folded loosely and squeaked.
"You can finally fit in these again." The girl was tiny though she seemed about his age. She had dark brown that fell below her shoulders, and a skin tone pale enough to almost eclipse his own. She pulled up a cloak first and held it over him showing him joyously the white fabric as though it meant something more than he realized. She saw the thought in his eyes through the pain in his face. "It's ok you don't remember yet, it normally takes a few days." She grinned magnificently at him and tossed the clothes aside. As the cloak fell away from her hand he noticed a small Phoenix tattoo on the back of it. He mustered his strength through the pain to lifted his heavy head to look at his chest. There on the right side he saw the same tattoo. "Hey Jumpy stop glaring at me it's like you have never seen me before." She chuckled and he jumped as she spit the words out. As far as he knew he never had seen her before, and yet something blurry ached in the back of his head a small bronze dagger that had some meaning to him that he had yet to understand. She stood and turned away from him her brown tinged, braided red hair swung over her shoulder as she spun to her feet on her toe so expertly as if she were a ballerina. She turned back toward him again whipping her hair around to the other shoulder. "Stand up pansy I know just what will jog your memory." She tossed him his clothes. "Get dressed. We have places to go." The clothing pile landed in his lap A heavy thud sound was made when they hit his leg. He crumpled slightly, sitting up straight. He looked to see what had jarred him.
"Children if you're going demon hunting again be careful it's the twenty-second hour, and Elwyn isn't back to one-hundred percent yet." The old man yelled to them from what seemed like it should be the kitchen. Elwyn ruffled though the clothing and what appeared to be armor to find what sort of metal object had caused the pending bruise to his thighs. After he finished wrinkling the clothes the girl folded for him and tossed the armor aside he found it, a long sword sheathed in ivory, capped in brass decorated exquisitely. A katana of a make fit to be wielded by a god, inscribed on the end of the handle were two names; Elwyn Peirce, obviously his own, and Humanae Vitae. As he read the words memories of the sword flooded into his mind, a whirlwind of thoughts and memories of the sword. He immediately jumped to his feet with excitement remembering the reason for which he carried it.
Spinning his finger in a tight circle next to his ear and jumping to his feet, blankets fell from his body and with not enough time to reveal any of his skin the armor and the clothes and the sword all at once equipped themselves to his body. As each piece touched his skin they reminded him more and more of who he was and where and what each piece's purpose was. "Let's go kill some demons." He said, his face dawning a smirk that screamed come and get me. Upon seeing the expression Celia leapt for joy, knowing that she would soon have her brother back.