Phoenix Child

Prologue

All the events flooded her head like crashing waves drummed up in a freak storm. Images of her mother’s icy glare pierced her. The absence of her and her father from the home. The late hour they had returned. Their lateness allowing the intruder enough time to strike. Flashes of dirty grey and pink material and blood-soaked sheets. Her mother’s broken body and Rayner weeping. The destruction on the other side of her bedroom door. Destruction similar to the creatures she heard in the stories from the older people in town. Like a beast from the old legends told to frighten children into good behaviour had torn through the roost. Huge, horrendous monsters that indulged on theinnocent and weak, merciless and evil by reputation with good reason. They were the embodiment of all things awful in her land. The reminder of those creatures spread heat into her scalp. Feeling hot enough to melt, the flames moved her hair without her knowledge and pulled the energy out of her body. Cressida’s gaze had changed to a glare. “This is all on you. You are to blame.” A harsh whisper escaped her throat. Then with a grimace, she turned away from her daughter, effectively shutting Calida out. What would happen to her now? Would Momma live? All the blood… So much blood… Calida’s body filled with an emptiness that matched the look cursed upon her mother. The woman who sat in her parents’ bedroom right now was a stranger to her own daughter. Fear and torment swirled around in her mind. Dread ate at her stomach and became a beast crawling up her throat, threatening to spew out like vomit. Limbs as heavy as bricks, they lay useless at her sides. Her mind was consumed by a monster raging through the door to take her away. Likewhoever harmed her mother and left her to … die. Why did that intruder do that to her mother? “My mama is gone.” Her voice shook. A fire in her hair spread until it engulfed her head, replacing her flaming locks. But as quickly as it came upon her, it disappeared. Along with it, her memories of the traumatic events vanished. With a moment of peace, the darkness crept up on Calida’s vision and consumed her until there was nothing. The void filled with memories of earlier in the day, before any of it happened. Her foot edged the bush as she hid. The wild, unruly hair resembling flames fell into her eyes. With an absent blow to the stray strands, she focused her attention on the deer that plodded by her hiding spot. Her breath froze as she feared to make any movement. Clenching a fist, she sprang from the brush. With a spring to her step, she ran after her prey. Arms outstretched, she lunged forward and tussled to keep a grip on the startled deer’s neck. It bucked her to the ground and reared to take off when a whistle of wind darted past her.
Whipping her head around, she realized there was an arrow in its flank. Coming down the path was her father, a man of stocky build and tanned skin. Rayner’s dark eyes met her amber ones. As frustration bubbled up, her cheeks flushed. “I almost had it, Papa,” seven-year-old Calida pouted. He snickered as he stowed the bow he had used a moment earlier and then crouched to her level. “I’m sure you did. I just beat you to it.” Rayner offered a hand up and she went to straighten her shirt and find the bush where she had left her dagger. “Remember, darling, we must put the creature out of its suffering first,” he said. She gazed at her father over her shoulder “Yes, I didn’t forget, Papa. Like you always say.” Her father smiled at her and nodded before he went to the deer and pulled out the dagger he kept on hand for the finishing blow to their prey. It only took a moment to retrieve her blade before she was back at her father’s side, where he set out all the tools to peel the hide and carve out the inside parts. Much of the meat would fetch a pretty coin on the market. The nobles loved venison like it was living water. Father would hide some belly and leg meat for her mother to cook, but he sold most of it to the nobles. Rayner broke the silence. “May we be prosperous as you were, kind creature.” The air settled just before the dim light of the forest was broken by a ray of sun through the leaves above. “We give our thanks to the use for our health. May your body rest in this forest and provide further to all,” Rayner said. One swift slice ended the deer’s life, then it was up to her. “May you be p-propserous.” She cringed as her inexperienced lips fumbled the last word. It was always the last one in her greeting she messed up. Prosperous. Prosperous. Calida pulled her small skinning knife out of her pocket and unsheathed it. A mess of blood stained her hands as she worked at removing the flesh off the animal. The forest stood silent as father and daughter efficiently butchered the carcass. The wind brushed around in the leaves overhead, a subtle ambience to their routine actions. Suddenly, a gust smacked a handful of stray grass into her mouth. Calida stumbled over, spitting out her red hair and the taste of dirt. “Papa! Gross!” Calida wiped her face and scowled at her father. It was just like him to use the wind to play a prank on her. In the forest, he would carry her on his shoulders like she was light as a feather. When she turned seven, his ability to tower over her never changed. All she could imagine was her strong and constant papa who would stay by her side always. Rayner dug into the soil at the base of the tree next to them. It was only right to return the deer they had shot down back where it came from. Calida helped make the hole until it was large enough to fit the leftovers of the deer. The bones weren’t something her father could carry home alone, as she was still too small. He had promised when she grew tall enough Calida could help carry them back for bone soup. A smile quirked on her face as the brush rustled around her, reminding her of all the times she had come to the woods with her father. Never was a single time a dull moment. He packed the meat in the deer’s hide and slung it over his shoulder. Calida flashed him a brilliant smile. With a large hand grasping her small one, the two made their way back to town. The breeze tickled her cheek, and Calida giggled. “Papa, don’t tickle…” “I don’t know what you mean, darling.” He chuckled. With a scrunched-up face, she tried to glare at her father, but her attempts were met by strands of red poking her eyes and mouth. As she spat out the wily mane, she laughed. “Papa!” If only she had gotten her magic already, she could get him back for all his pranks and maybe finally have an upper hand. Most days she tried to hold out her hands like Papa did in hopes of summoning her powers, but it was useless. Not even a single tingle. There was at least one child in the next town over that had gotten their magic at her age. Papa had told Calida it would come when it was supposed to, but she wished it would come now. Mama and Papa had theirs to use, but she wanted to show off. Maybe even prank the local boys who liked to pull on the pigtails of girls in town. According to her father, it first presented itself in the hands. They were commonly used and too close to our heart. But Calida could strain and stress for days and not encounter anything. The seven-year-old could still remember the last time she complained about having no magic. They had been in their special field of flowers when he lectured her again that there was no need to worry. How could she not get her magic with two parents attuned? It did nothing to convince her. Calida had always been a stubborn child and this case was no different. For all she knew, her parent’s powers canceled each other because of their differing types. While Papa could control the wind, Mama could manipulate metal. Maybe there was no way to give her either of them. What if by some accident she was switched at birth, and she didn’t even have powers? She didn’t know what to do. The desperate need to get the ability to use wind or metal made her want to stomp on the ground until she was in a full childish tantrum. As the trees thinned and Rayner and Calida broke through the edge of the forest, they found their special meadow. The wildflowers were at the mercy of the wind around them. A large grin spread as she jumped in excitement at seeing her meadow. She ran into the field and spun endlessly, giggling at the warm light and chirping birds. She stopped and crouched beside the brush of prickly flowers. She held a hand to her mouth as she schemed. Jumping into action, Calida darted into the brush around the clearing. Every now and then, she peeked out from her hidden spot to watch her father stroll into the flower field. She giggled as Rayner bent over to sniff one. “Oh, I wonder where could my daughter have gone?” He continued to stroll at a lazy pace, like he hadn’t a care in the world. Calida faded into the flowers like a cat hunting her prey. When she was close enough and his back turned to her, the girl pounced, knocking them over. Sweet smells and buzzing bees exploded around them. Their laughter joined the joyful birdsong overhead. The swish of Rayner’s outstretched hand stirred the pollen around her, and she screeched with happiness. Cuddled up, she rested her head on her father’s chest. Nothing could disturb her now. “If you feel unhappy, remember… My silly face!” Calida looked over and laughed at Rayner’s tongue sticking out and skewed eyes. “Whatever you say, Papa!” She rolled her eyes. A long sigh left Rayner’s chest, and she glanced up. “My dear Eesa, what has you so exhausted?” Damn it all, she did it again. Exhausted. Exhausted. “That’s a big word for such a little lady. Exhausted. Hopefully, you’ll remember that word later on.” “I mean, I remember the flowers and the nice smell around me. I did like the look of the leaves I saw. Maybe when I’m older, I’ll be a flower.” Calida shared more and more about people turning into flowers and their feet becoming squirrels. If she could be a flower, then she would be fun. With the bees and beetles as friends, what could go wrong? A soft chuckle left his mouth. “How are words and flowers related?” Calida tilted her head to the side and scrunched her eyebrows. Flowers were pretty and had lots of friends. They made her think of her favorite fruit soup. Sweet, colorful, and perfect on her cloth doll. “Flowers taste like wordy fruit!” An innocent smile spread across her face. Her father stared at her in bewilderment. They lounged outside, enjoying the sunlight as they recounted the events of the last few weeks. Things they learned or shared. Calida told her father about the girl she had met in the market one day. In a moment, Calida had snuck away to give her a piece of cheap fruit, but Calida wished she had a pretty dress for the girl. It wasn’t fair she could have a doll and a dress without a stain, but someone else went without. Her father talked about his brothers in his faction and the friendliness he had when play fighting. He told her about the daughter of his friend, Sir Vaughan, who was her age. She sat in his lap and stared up at him. “You would like her, darling. Her father spoke fondly of her lively nature.” Before long, the sun started to set, and they were forced to return home. Rayner pulled his daughter to her feet. Hand in hand, they strode home. Calida decided to skip halfway through until she grew tired of it. Her father whistled a tune that Calida bobbed her head to. Soon, they were entering town and walking down the path to their home. The wind messed up Calida’s hair while she skipped, tickling another giggle out of her. “Papa!” That was the last good day of her childhood she could remember.