The Chronicles of Phoenix Bloodheart I: Turning Red

Chapter XIV: Heart

Trixie rises from her hammock, taking a big stretch and rubbing her eyes. She looks over at Phoenix's bed, then at Thirteen's, and feels relief with a smidgen of apprehension.

She tip-toes towards Phoenix's bed, leaning in towards her. Phoenix is sleeping soundly, her breathing rhythmically moving the bed covers; her face stained with blood.

Trixie climbs the bunk and sees Thirteen sleeping. He looks up at Trixie instinctively, half-dozing, sighs and collapses back into bed.

"Well?" Trixie asks.

"Two elves are dead," a muffled reply emerges from underneath the covers. "I had to fucking kill one to protect her, the other she finished off herself."

"Who were they?"

"Drunks. They tried to rape her. She did a half-assed job of trying to bury them in the sand. We'll need to get rid of them..."

Trixie responds angrily, whispering loudly with a snap: "Oh great. That's just great."

As she steps down the ladder, she notices a bare foot protruding from underneath Phoenix's bed.

Trixie places her head in her hands and moves across the other side of the room to Henry, who is laying in his bed and starting to wake.

"I need you to get rid of two bodies with Falkor" she says. "And get the blood out of her clothes."

"More bodies and blood?! You know he doesn't like doing this, Trixie," he protests.

"Just get it done," she snaps.

Over the next hour, the rest of the crew rise, except Phoenix, who remains exhausted from the night before. She sleeps through conversation, through laughter, through breakfast, even through a little ditty played on a lute by Harris.

Falkor has the unenviable task of removing the bodies - quite literally. Henry accompanies him to the beach and finds the bodies, as per Thirteen's instructions. Falkor uses light magic to disintegrate the bodies into thin air. It takes a good half an hour and a lot of strain from the talented little elf, but the bodies and their bloodied clothes eventually disappear. The child doesn't look happy to be using magic in this way, but he does it for the good of the group, for Seven, even for Phoenix, hoping at the same time her own luck will improve.

.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-.

At around midday, Phoenix wakes. The taste of old wine and bread lingers at the back of her throat from the night before. She remains in bed, staring out at the cavern around her. Seven looks back from the table, where Falkor is teaching him how to play chess, and flickers an unsure smile her way. She returns it and, bringing a finger to her hair to brush it aside, feels the hard crack of dried blood that has stuck parts of her ginger hair together. She feels awkward in this state and rises a bit too quickly, her own blood rushing to her head.

"You okay, Phoenix?" Seven asks bluntly, masking his concern for her.

She turns around towards him and nods, her face flushing with mild embarrassment at the thought of having to tell him what she did to those elves. The flush is pointless as it is impossible to notice beneath all the dried blood flecking across her face, like she's been in a warzone - and emerged victorious. Seven secretly admires this young woman, her bravery, her raw fighting style and bloodlust. Perhaps they are not too different, he thinks to himself.

"Talk in a bit," she croaks, having not yet fully woken up.

She heads to the washroom for a soak and to remove the last of the blood from her skin. Once inside, Phoenix notices her bloodied blue clothes from the night before are gone. She takes her time to soak, get her head straight and scrub as much of the blood as she possibly can from the night before. By the end of her bath, the water is like a deep crimson. Phoenix feels a little sick thinking back to the mauled elf and what they tried to do to her, and all the warm blood on her face and clothes after her blackout. While she feels a little sick, she also feels a little proud at passing Trixie's test.