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Sephira smiled as she watched Elliot and Rose leave. She was happy to see the two, but sad to know that it meant the Gerudo was dead. She turned and moved through the city, leaving it behind as she headed to the forest.
Because of her gift as a phoenix, Sephira wasn’t truly dead. While her body awaited its restoration through fire, her spirit wandered the world of the dead. She had met many other spirits here, most of whom she didn’t know. She only ran into them because their heavenly dreams were similar to her friends’. Elliot and Rose had wanted a happy home together; so had many others.
Sephira, however, coveted the peace of the forest. She yearned to run among the thick trunks with Midnight and FallenStar. Lately, though, she had been wondering if James belonged in her dream, in her heaven. Was she worthy of having such a good man in her life? Was he faitherful enough?
She pondered these as she returned to the clearing that was her path home. Flowers ringed it, but only one grew in it. Sephira knew that as long as the petals were closed, her body wasn’t ready. Once it bloomed fully, she would be free to return. She had been here for a while, and honestly, she hoped the flower didn’t bloom. While she missed her friends, she enjoyed the peace found in death. Because she wasn’t fully dead, she still felt the pain and sadness of living, but returning to her body would restore her to her endless wandering. For nearly two years, she had suffered under the weight of her title.
Sephira, last of the Stari.
When she died her true death, she would take her tribe’s heritage with her. Their traditions, their gifts, all gone. She was tired of the burden and desired above all to be free of it. “If only there were more,” she murmured.
She looked down to see the flower had bloomed. She sighed and knelt before it. “Home again, then.” As her spirit left for her body, she thought she heard a whisper on the wind: “You aren’t the last.”
A pillar of flame erupted from the prone form of the phoenix, burning it away as quickly as a dried twig. Every feather, even the ones Sephira had used for her arrows, ignited and burned away until all the remained was ash. These no sooner cooled than started moving, as if stirred by wind. They reassembled in their previous form, leaving a pile of feathers in Sephira’s quiver, and restoring her body to its former pristine condition. She lifted her beak to the sun and screeched her joy to be reborn. Rebirth always filled her with the happiness of life, if only for a little while.
Sephira spread her wings and flew out across the desert. Since she hadn’t seen anyone near her when she woke, she had initiated the burning herself. That meant that the others were out of the desert by now. It would take her quite a while to catch up to them. She wasn’t even sure if she would be able to figure out where they went after leaving the desert. She knew they had been heading to the cliffs behind Gerudo Desert, but beyond that? She’d have to guess, or hope that someone had left something for her to follow them by.
A large shadow drew her attention from her thoughts. Looking up, she saw a large bird, holding an unconscious man in its talons. She had never seen a bird like this before, but if it ate humans, she was glad of it. Flapping her wings, she gained altitude until she was above the bird, then swooped down on it. Her talons tore at feathers and her beak plunged into its neck. The bird screeched, more from surprise than pain, she was sure, and dropped its cargo. Before it could turn its attention to her, she set its tail feathers on fire with a quick thought and flew off. The bird screeched again, and flew up, desperate to escape the heated talons tearing into its feathers.
Sephira landed next to the man it had been caring and studied him curiously. He was a little older than her, yet he seemed more innocent. “Not that that’s very hard,” she grumbled, her phoenix voice trilling. She extended her swan-like neck to check where the bird had been gripping, and saw its talons had cut into him. Not deeply, but it wouldn’t be a good idea for them to remain untreated, especially in the desert. The desert was a dangerous place to live in, and Sephira had a lot of respect for those who could.
Sighing, she realized that there was no way she could bandage the wounds while in her phoenix form. She’d have to shift. Grimacing, she allowed her human form to take over, shivering slightly as she lost the protection of her feathers. The sun beat down mercilessly, but her fire-hot phoenix form was protected from it. Her human form, on the other hand, would be livid red if she spent too long in it.
Quickly, she checked the man’s pack and pulled out what she needed, then treated his wounds. “Dear goddesses, if he wakes up and sees me like this,” she muttered. “Thank Nayrue James won’t know about this.”
Because of her gift as a phoenix, Sephira wasn’t truly dead. While her body awaited its restoration through fire, her spirit wandered the world of the dead. She had met many other spirits here, most of whom she didn’t know. She only ran into them because their heavenly dreams were similar to her friends’. Elliot and Rose had wanted a happy home together; so had many others.
Sephira, however, coveted the peace of the forest. She yearned to run among the thick trunks with Midnight and FallenStar. Lately, though, she had been wondering if James belonged in her dream, in her heaven. Was she worthy of having such a good man in her life? Was he faitherful enough?
She pondered these as she returned to the clearing that was her path home. Flowers ringed it, but only one grew in it. Sephira knew that as long as the petals were closed, her body wasn’t ready. Once it bloomed fully, she would be free to return. She had been here for a while, and honestly, she hoped the flower didn’t bloom. While she missed her friends, she enjoyed the peace found in death. Because she wasn’t fully dead, she still felt the pain and sadness of living, but returning to her body would restore her to her endless wandering. For nearly two years, she had suffered under the weight of her title.
Sephira, last of the Stari.
When she died her true death, she would take her tribe’s heritage with her. Their traditions, their gifts, all gone. She was tired of the burden and desired above all to be free of it. “If only there were more,” she murmured.
She looked down to see the flower had bloomed. She sighed and knelt before it. “Home again, then.” As her spirit left for her body, she thought she heard a whisper on the wind: “You aren’t the last.”
A pillar of flame erupted from the prone form of the phoenix, burning it away as quickly as a dried twig. Every feather, even the ones Sephira had used for her arrows, ignited and burned away until all the remained was ash. These no sooner cooled than started moving, as if stirred by wind. They reassembled in their previous form, leaving a pile of feathers in Sephira’s quiver, and restoring her body to its former pristine condition. She lifted her beak to the sun and screeched her joy to be reborn. Rebirth always filled her with the happiness of life, if only for a little while.
Sephira spread her wings and flew out across the desert. Since she hadn’t seen anyone near her when she woke, she had initiated the burning herself. That meant that the others were out of the desert by now. It would take her quite a while to catch up to them. She wasn’t even sure if she would be able to figure out where they went after leaving the desert. She knew they had been heading to the cliffs behind Gerudo Desert, but beyond that? She’d have to guess, or hope that someone had left something for her to follow them by.
A large shadow drew her attention from her thoughts. Looking up, she saw a large bird, holding an unconscious man in its talons. She had never seen a bird like this before, but if it ate humans, she was glad of it. Flapping her wings, she gained altitude until she was above the bird, then swooped down on it. Her talons tore at feathers and her beak plunged into its neck. The bird screeched, more from surprise than pain, she was sure, and dropped its cargo. Before it could turn its attention to her, she set its tail feathers on fire with a quick thought and flew off. The bird screeched again, and flew up, desperate to escape the heated talons tearing into its feathers.
Sephira landed next to the man it had been caring and studied him curiously. He was a little older than her, yet he seemed more innocent. “Not that that’s very hard,” she grumbled, her phoenix voice trilling. She extended her swan-like neck to check where the bird had been gripping, and saw its talons had cut into him. Not deeply, but it wouldn’t be a good idea for them to remain untreated, especially in the desert. The desert was a dangerous place to live in, and Sephira had a lot of respect for those who could.
Sighing, she realized that there was no way she could bandage the wounds while in her phoenix form. She’d have to shift. Grimacing, she allowed her human form to take over, shivering slightly as she lost the protection of her feathers. The sun beat down mercilessly, but her fire-hot phoenix form was protected from it. Her human form, on the other hand, would be livid red if she spent too long in it.
Quickly, she checked the man’s pack and pulled out what she needed, then treated his wounds. “Dear goddesses, if he wakes up and sees me like this,” she muttered. “Thank Nayrue James won’t know about this.”
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