The Phoenix at the Funeral
Max had grown. Another five inches. He was 5’10’’ now. Lennon was nearing six feet. They walked the dark cavern together. Hoods pulled up tight over their heads. They slept in the caverns, their walls dripping with the moon crystals in their liquid state.
The dank wet smell was everywhere and nowhere, filling their noses and eyes so that they never quite felt free of it. As if the reality that they themselves were everywhere, yet nowhere, seemed to manifest in new forms. They had been in the caverns, hiding so long, it felt as if that was all there was in the world. The twists and turns of broken cracks of rock. The empty corridors that seemed to stretch for miles on end, littered with the cots, and coves of those who claimed a miniscule section of stone for themselves.
All those who wandered the caves had given up the gift of seeing clearly completely. The dim light of windable flashlights, and the glow of the liquid crystal itself, was all that was offered to the inhabitants. Night gave what little time she could to the students of Luna Cruin’s School for the Average Changeling. They were after all, children of the moon.
A changeling is a human being, a mortal if you will, that shares its body with another soul, an animal. They are chosen at birth by beings referred to as Moon Spirits. Changelings are chosen for their potential bravery, their strength, their passion, their courage, and honor. They, however, are children who would have died at birth, and need the second soul to survive. However, that soul must exist alongside the human, and an unguided moon changeling has no control over when the transition between human and animal occurs. As soon as the moonlight hits them, they are rendered to their animals state. Be it a wolf, a tiger, a lion. Perhaps a bear. Changelings are sought out by trackers from Luna Cruin’s School for the Average Changeling, and given a bit of mooncrystal liquid to hold in their hands. The liquid reads the souls of changelings, and forms a charm with significant meaning to its wearer. This charm allows the changeling to control not only when they change, but also, the communication with their second soul.
Lennon pulled the thick brass handle of the oak door, and let the soft blue moonlight fill the passage behind him. Max moved swiftly, filling the tunnel a moment with his broad shoulders, then, silently, he drew a smooth gleaming sword from his belt. He lead the way from the caves to the outside world.
They could move only at night. Day was too risky. Filled with spies and hunters, pillagers coming to pick the meat off their bones. Night offered cover.
The mountain had changed. Grown over with vegetation and animals that didn’t belong, and the night sprawled over it. A cloak of inky, greasy black, with fingers like velvet, that formed a tight fist away from the world.
The Black was broken only by the moon, and a single star. Artificial night created by moon spirits to keep safe those who were most valuable to them. This was the truth they had come to know. A truth they must accept as warriors for the Realm.
And so they walked. Brother beside brother. They stepped over the ruin of what used to be Mr. Cruin’s office. Max took a long look back at the piles of ash that were once books who guarded the caves on their mighty shelves. Now, they were dust that was carried with the wind.
Lennon took a step through the charred door frame, and into the broken remnants of the entrance hall. The tall stained glass windows lay in shards at his feet. The long spiral staircases that lead to the steeple, now were skeletons that stretched their bones to the sky. Long, black, charred fingers that shook and clattered if the wind blew harshly.
Max put his hand on Lennon’s shoulder.
“We’ll get it back. We’re gonna get it all back.” Lennon nodded.
