Ashes to Ashes

Reborn

From ashes to ashes the phoenix is born,

after his wings have been broken and torn.

When it's life has finally ended,

and the knees of the people are no longer bended,

it will be no more.

For that is what allows it's heart to burn,

deep inside his flame covered core.

                                                                      -Book of the Blaze

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Slowly, the man walked through the tall pine trees staring at the thick, green grass as he placed one foot in front of the other keeping a constant pace. The summer's sun beat down onto him through the trees but he did not bare a sweat. He carried nothing but a walking stick and a canteen of water at his side. His hair was tied back neatly by a red ribbon however his hair was just barely long enough for it to be so. He had few grey strands of hair from his soft brown hair showing of his older age. His grey eyes looked up from the lush grass, to in front of him to see that his destination was just ahead.

He had traveled a great distance, which people now would never think to do because they have forgotten the very idea of this place of once great importance. He could never dismiss from mind what importance it holds to this land and to himself.

Just beyond the line of trees which he stood at was a large open clearing where the sun cascaded down from the tips of the trees meeting the stone shrine that stood in the center of it all. The birds chirped in the surrounding trees, creating a serene scene and at the sight of the old shrine the man's breath froze, but only for a second.

The once well taken care of shrine was now covered in moss and dirt. He begun to walk from the trees into the clearing to the life size statue of the one who allowed the land to become what it is now—living.

He reached the foot of the statue and looked up to the statue's face as it slightly stood above him. It was a statue of a young boy leaping forward with a phoenix rising from behind him with it's wings stretched out above. The stone used to make it was one that showed no value at the time or even now but how the rock was made was the reason why they chose to use it. The black stone that seemed to have a greenish tent to it now was molten rock from the volcano that was just beyond the forest if he were to continue walking. The detail was incredible and it must have taken years to create. Everything feature on the boys face made it look as if he was made of stone himself and every feather on the wings of the phoenix was shown, although not every feather was still attached at this point. 

The statue was beginning to break away from the years of neglect. Bits of the stone from the outstretched hand had crumbled away as well as part of the beautiful face. The man knelt down to the foot of the statue with a grunt, brushing off the dirt and pine needles from below and pushed the thick grass away from the front of it to see the writing that he knew would be there:

ԲՐԾʍ ԹՏɧȝՏ ԵԾ ԹՏɧȝՏ ɧȝ ՏɧԹʅʅ Յȝ ՅԾՐՌ ԹԳԹɿՌ, ԹʅաԹՎՏ ՐȝʍȝʍՅȝՐȝԺ ԲԾՐ Եɧȝ ՏԹՇՐɿԲɿՇȝ ɧȝ ʍԹԺȝ ԵԾ ρՐԾԵȝՇԵ Եɧȝ ʅԹՌԺ ԵɧԹԵ ԾՌՇȝ ՏɧՄՌՌȝԺ ɧɿʍ