From the Ashes

23

Soft, deep humming fills the bedroom. A short, thin Chinese man with hair as white as snow places a damp, white cloth on the forehead of a young man. He brushes the younger man's chocolate curls from his face and turns back around. The man continues to hum as he prepares a paste with herbs on the table next to the bed.

The young man lays on the bed, completely still. He is still breathing, but his mind is not awake. He is not dreaming nor is he asleep, he is in complete stillness and nothingness.

The comatose man's tan skin still holds it's youthful glow. His soft features appear as though he is in complete and utter relaxation. The corners of his lips are curved up in the tiniest bit.

"Majestic is the Phoenix, awesome is his might," the old man mutters to himself. "Turn away and you will lose his sight. Once gone will appear afar, when he is needed you will know. Never will he appear as foe." He places down his pestle and raises the mortar towards the sky. He wills his eyes to change from black to completely white.

His eyelids close and he continues his chant, "The many faces of the bird, will not deter his nobleness. Leading with his heart and head, out of the darkness our souls can rest. The many faces of the bird, will not deter his nobleness."

The man rises from his chair. "Leading with his heart and head, out of the darkness our souls can rest." He begins to walk over to the young man laying on his bed, his eyes still closed, "If you choose to follow through, the Greatness will be as promised."

When he opens his eyes, they are back to their true color. The old man dips his fingertips into the paste. "Out of the dirt, we will shine." He slips his fingers under the washcloth and rubs the paste into his forehead.

"And from the ashes, our King will rise," he says a little louder.

As soon as the last syllable leaves his lips the young man shoots up in the bed. His eyes glow the brightest, almost blinding color of orange.

The old man immediately falls to his knees before him. "My king." But the young man does not respond.

After seconds of silence, the old man looks up from the ground to see the man whom he called his king, with eyes the color of a night sky without any stars. He quickly stands from the ground, whispering to himself, "Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Not now. This isn't supposed to happen yet. Not yet."

His hands shake as he slowly backs away from the bed, reaching for a cellphone that sits on the desk behind him, his eye still trained on the statute king.

The second half of the divine prophecy enters his head, consuming the entirety of his thoughts. Amazing is the Phoenix

its power is unmeasured

be careful and keep it treasured

a sack of pearls

a single stained in ink

never will it appear as they think

While the power for good

certainly resides in true

the power for evil

is easily brewed

one in a millennia

is all it takes

for the fate of mortal and mystical

to become completely erased

He hastily dials a number into the cellphone. For a few seconds, all that can be heard is the soft hum coming from the device, but then, a voice finally comes through.