Into the Flames

Chapter 3

“A lot of the rooms are empty; we don’t have many visitors these days,” said Dylan, taking Jenna’s old varsity jacket – she found it at a donation center – and backpack from her and setting it on the coat rack.  “So just take your pick when we go upstairs.”

            “I’m not going to stay in a house with a bunch of strangers overnight,” said Jenna. She glanced at her coat, hanging limply on the rack, next to Gianna, Adam, and Dylan’s. She saw dirty boots scattered around the ground, and weapons lying on the ground like discarded toys. These people tossed around daggers and arrows so casually, it made Jenna uneasy.

            “You have some explaining to do,” Jenna said, carefully following Dylan.

            “You’re taking this awfully well, you know,” he said, not looking back at her.

            “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be taking. Do you honestly expect me to believe that you guys fight monsters and Timors?”

            “I honestly expected you to believe us one hundred percent.” By this time, Dylan and Jenna reached a foyer. He pointed at an empty seat, next to the brown leather couch occupied by Adam and Gianna. The German Shepherd was laying comfortably next to Adam’s feet. “Sit.”

            Jenna obeyed, sitting at the edge of the chair if anything happens and she has to escape. Her eyes scanned the room to develop a plan to escape safely; she saw a window, and actions slowly began to develop in the back of her head.

            “You’re rather persistent, aren’t you? You can’t escape from here. First off, I don’t know why you would want to,” Dylan said, now sitting in a huge armchair, legs dangling off the side. His sudden voice caused Jenna’s plan to evaporate to dust.

            He swung his legs around so his feet were on the ground. Dylan’s chin rested on his hand as he stared intently at Jenna. Jenna glanced at Gianna and Adam, who were both comfortably sitting on the couch. She swallowed and took a deep breath before meeting Dylan’s eyes. “What’s a Guardian and what’s a Timor?” asked Jenna.

            “That’s easy. We’re Guardians. Guardians are people who have the blood of the phoenix.”

            “Excuse me?” Jenna interjected.

            “The blood of the phoenix. A phoenix is a supposed mythical creature that is born from flames. They die when they’re old by bursting into flames and then being reborn from the ashes. There came a time when the phoenix came extinct, and the last one gave its blood to the first Guardian before departing from the Earth.”

            “So you’re telling me that I have chicken blood infused with my own?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

            Dylan frowned. “I wouldn’t say chicken. If anything, I think a phoenix would have more resemblance with a peacock. Just not as lazy and big.”

            “I hate peacocks,” Adam said. “Vain, cheeky things.”

            “If the last phoenix gave its blood to the first Guardian, and this is, like, seventy generations later, wouldn’t the phoenix’s blood be nonexistent within us? Since it got diffused through generations.”

            Dylan shook his head. “No. Phoenix blood, or basilisk blood, always stays dominant.

            “Phoenixes and basilisks have been in an eternal battle now; when the Phoenix left the Earth and left its legacy with us, the basilisk did the same, except with Timors. The phoenix’s blood within us enables us to manipulate the dimensions, which is why I was so surprised you could see me earlier today. I was in a different dimension, hiding me from the dimension that mortals, or Gens, as we call them, live in.”