Phoenix walks alongside the little green goblin, back through the village she came across an hour earlier.
Trixie turns to Phoenix and flashes a grin up at her. She says: "Okay, my end of the deal. I suppose I'm an adventurer first, an opportunist second, and an activist in-between. I live life on the seas."
Phoenix's curiosity is instantly piqued as she gazes at the goblin's eye-patch.
"You're a pirate!" she beams.
Trixie chuckles. "I suppose you could say we are like pirates. But smarter. Nothing like the Bloodsail Buccaneers. We're traders and tacticians, not mindless thieves or murderers. I also head up a reputable ship repair business.
"I know what you're thinking," Trixie glances at Phoenix, after noticing her stare. "A smart person doesn't lose an eye. Lost it in a swordfight - but from what I gained, it was worth it. Lucky ya don't need both eyes to see, eh?
"My eyes were opened after my time on the ship, the crew became family," she says proudly. "For now, I lead a small scouting party here. Hopefully we will be reunited with our captain soon.'
Phoenix replies eagerly: "Are you setting sail again soon? Do you need a deckhand?"
Trixie stops walking to turn and face Phoenix. She shakes her head.
"My ship is out of action for a while," Trixie says. "And anyway, do not be so hasty to leave your life behind here. There's a lot worse than Silvermoon out there.
"Besides," she says, starting to walk again, her voice taking a sadder tone. "I've been tasked with other important work here for now, while the main brunt of the crew are out adventuring somewhere far from these shores."
She frowns mildly. Phoenix simply nods in response and looks down at the ground.
Despite her situation, her aching muscles and painful jaw, Phoenix feels a little better. There's something about Trixie she feels she can trust, even though she barely knows her. All of Phoenix's doubts are superseded by curiosity and excitement.
"Where are we going?" Phoenix asks naively, as they reach the Tranquil Shore beyond the western edge of the village. The grass and gravel give way to a short stretch of beach. It's not long or large enough to attract sunseekers, but is still relatively beautiful nonetheless.
Between the forest and the water's edge lie a few inconspicuous shacks on the white sandy beach. As they enter the second from left, the old dirty floorboards creak beneath their feet. Inside the small space there is a homeless elf asleep in the corner, inside a sleeping bag. The shack is almost empty, bar a couple of shelves littered with junk and a few empty bottles in the corner. Dust lingers in the air; it smells musty.
Phoenix turns to Trixie and blinks, as if to ask: 'Why are we here?'
Trixie leans over the snoring elf and reaches out to one of the lower shelves. It seems as if she pulls on some sort of lever out of Phoenix's line of sight, before turning to her again.
"You're doing it again," Trixie sighs. "Ya look but ya do not see."
Before Phoenix can answer, a scraping noise emanates from the left.
"Let me open your eyes," Trixie says, as a grate in the floor slowly moves aside, revealing an opening wide enough for a person to comfortably fit.
Phoenix blinks again and raises one eyebrow. Trixie moves past as if this is nothing out of the ordinary, and dips one foot into the opening, then the other. There's a ladder leading down.
YOU ARE READING
The Chronicles of Phoenix Bloodheart I: Turning Red
FantasíaRise of the Phoenix: Born in the enchanted elven kingdom of Quel'Thalas, Phoenix is unlike other high elves: she has never had an affinity for magic. Raised by a prostitute, she quickly grows disillusioned by her mother's profession and drug use, m...
