The Chronicles of Phoenix Bloodheart I: Turning Red

Chapter XVII: Control

Phoenix is looking over at Seven as the elves dressed in black spring out. The orc is just returning eye contact with her as this happens; Phoenix watches his eyes gaze wide in shock, shifting her attention towards the people around her.

She freezes. Before she realises what is happening, the elf in front of her speaks. In the darkness it is hard to make out his face, but as he talks she realises she doesn't recognise him.

"You are property of the Steelfeathers," he says, calmly, in a hard voice as blunt as a club. "You either come with us quietly, or pay with your blood."

Phoenix is tempted to drop her weapon and go with the elves, for the chance to rescue her mother. But she knows she would be heavily outnumbered and dismisses the thought as quickly as it first appeared. Her face is a ball of shock and uncertainty. Someone behind her chortles with glee.

Phoenix's heart thuds and she glances over at Seven. 'Now would be a great time for your assistance, beauty,' she thinks, wanting to scream aloud but finding she cannot do anything but stay frozen. For she sees that Seven, now standing, is surrounded by three other lackeys himself.

Phoenix's heart-rate thunders suddenly in speed and volume, its pounding filling her ears. She moves her right foot back slightly to keep her balance.

The world is still for a moment as the person in front of her steps forward, casting his face in the moonlight. He is an ugly, black-haired ponytail-sporting elf, staring Phoenix down, awaiting her move. He is not holding a weapon, though it's possible it could be concealed.

'No,' Phoenix thinks to herself, blocking out the noise of her pounding heart. Like Trixie taught her, what good will the rage bring? She stands up tall, tilts her head a centimetre and just breathes. Deeply.

A long breath escapes her lips, warming the mask in front of her mouth. She swiftly darts her eyes left and right, without moving her head an inch so as not to make the gang attack first. Phoenix's heart slows as she forces herself to think and quickly analyse the situation. To not only look, but to see. To find clarity, to understand.

She spots one bandit to her left, along with the flash of a blade, but cannot see for certain if another is on her far right or not. The laugh revealed there's at least one person behind her, while her instincts tell her there's probably one or two beside them.

So there are possibly at least seven of them altogether - three around the orc and four circling her. She thinks about using the dagger concealed within her tunic but opts for the sword, given the need for greater reach, plus the thought of wielding it gives her some comfort. The knowledge of the situation relaxes her somehow and she suddenly feels the light weight of Heart on her left hip, begging Phoenix to draw it and thrust towards the thug standing before her. 'No,' she decides, 'That's what angry Phoenix would do. We split these idiots into separate groups, breaking them up and dampening their numbers advantage.'

While it feels like a minute, this all happens in the space of a few seconds, and the tension rises in the silence.

"Oh," the elf in front adds, breaking it. "And we'll be taking that sceptre you have there, whatever option you choose."

Phoenix ignores him. She quickly glances at Seven one last time before she makes her first move. They establish eye contact for a split-second and, like a pair of ticking clocks almost perfectly in time with one another, move together in relative unison. Seven roars, grabbing the nearest bandit to him and throwing him with devastating force towards the other two surrounding him.

As this is happening, Phoenix suddenly charges to her left, while keeping her head looking forward to beguile the enemy. She makes no such battle cry, instead remaining silent and swift. She twists her centre of gravity to fire all of her weight from her light frame into her left shoulder, which is targeted towards the figure to her left. As she tilts her eyes to see him as she charges, she notices he's caught off guard and not reacting quickly enough to avoid or divert her blow. Feeling confident with the advantage, at the last moment she viciously juts her elbow upwards, aiming for his face. Her bony elbow connects with his teeth and upper gum, making a nasty thwacking sound as he sprawls backwards to the wall.