Rise of Phoenix Read online

  The circus looked as though it had only just arrived, perhaps the night before. The caravans were neatly assembled and the horses were loose in the pasture, while she could just about make out all the show people rallying around to put up the huge colorful tent.

  She wondered if it would be all the same people, how would they have changed in the past decade? Had anyone new taken their places?

  She reached out and took Ash’s hand, suddenly feeling nervous about meeting them all again, about how they were going to react to seeing her. She wished she could have sent a letter, or a message, warning them of her arrival.

  She had missed them.

  The first year away, she remembered being filled with joy at her freedom and her new purpose in life, but she had still carried the stigma of being one of ‘them’ with her. She had been able to shrug it off at first, thinking that she would soon be accepted amongst the other novice healers at the Abbey, but it became clear that they would always consider her an outcast. She would never really belong anywhere. It had been a lonely time and she had craved the company and community of the travelling circus. Only her friend Gaia, and then Ash, had seen her for who she was and not what she had been.

  “I haven’t been to a circus in years!” said Ash, sounding like an excited child.

  “Neither have I,” admitted Serafin.

  He turned to look at her.

  “You mean you haven’t been back?”

  “No,” she said shaking her head slowly.

  “In ten years you never once went home?”

  She shrugged.

  Ash was surprised. He turned back to look at the people running around the circus field, rushing about their business and preparing for their first show of the season. Serafin wondered how they would react to seeing them turn up out of the blue, after she had been away for so long.

  Gradually, the mountain path evened out and they followed the trail as it ran alongside a dry stone wall and came to the entrance of the meadow.

  No one had taken the slightest notice of them; people from the town would often rush out excitedly and watch the circus people preparing for their show. It was odd for Serafin to be on the other side for once.

  She suddenly had a desire to run, to run back up the mountain path, find Phoenix and ride away as fast and as far as she could. She gripped Ash’s hand tighter, and he smiled at her reassuringly.

  She couldn’t go back, she couldn’t face them.

  Perhaps they could find somewhere else to hide, some other way to slip out of sight of the authorities. Perhaps they could take Phoenix across the ocean. She’d heard of people that had made the journey on the back of a dactyl. It was rare, but possible. Although she had to admit that no dactyl had made it with two people on its back.

  “We don’t have to go in,” said Ash.

  She ran through the other possibilities but she knew that this was the best option, the only option. She and Ash had to hide and to be safe, hidden away from the Guilds with the other outcasts; outcasts who may be able to help her in her quest.

  “Yes, we do,” she said.

  She let go of his hand and took a deep breath, stepping over the threshold and into the meadow. Ash followed, a pace behind, allowing her to take the lead.

  She stopped dead when she saw her old caravan. It was parked in the same position it always was, always the same place, between the ringmaster’s caravan and the acrobat’s. The same old caravan, repainted and repaired, but nevertheless it was the same old green, with the same old red roof, she could even pick out the little painted flowers around the door and along the side of the little stepladder leading up to it.

  “I’ll wait here,” said Ash, gently prompting her to keep moving.

  She wanted him to come with her, she wasn’t sure she could do it alone, she wasn’t sure she could do it at all.

  “Go on,” he encouraged.

  She felt sick.

  She rested her hand against the steps and closed her eyes, breathing deeply, then walked up to the little door and stepped through.

  “Sorry, this is a private—” it took her father a moment to recognize her. He stood staring at her open-mouthed.

  He had changed very little over the years. He still wore his long red hair in a ponytail and didn’t allow his beard to grow beyond a week. He was a tall man with piercing green eyes. She had forgotten those eyes.

  Her mother turned to see what had stopped her husband in his tracks. Her headscarf was down, and Serafin could see that her dark, black hair was starting to grey. She stood when she saw Serafin, her bright colored robes swept around her dramatically.

  “Serafin?” she said slowly.

  The memory of her mother’s voice affected her more than she had thought. It would. She couldn’t speak. She simply nodded and her mother rushed forward and took her into an embrace, clinging to her and kissing her forehead.

  “You came back! Oh my darling sweet Serafin! You came back!”

  Her father didn’t move, so her mother turned to him and pulled him forward.

  “Look, Titus, it’s your daughter! She’s come home.”

  He nodded but he didn’t smile. Serafin waited, as if for hours, for him to speak, to say something, to recognize her.

  “Why have you come?” he asked finally.

  Serafin tried to answer, but her body prevented her from doing so.

  “Does it matter, Titus? She’s come home. She’s come home.” Her mother hugged her again. “Come with me,” she said pulling her from the caravan.

  Serafin caught a glimpse of her father as they left. She couldn’t read his reaction, and couldn’t tell if he was angry or just surprised.

  Suddenly, she was being pulled across the meadow as her mother called out manically to everyone, and people looked around, curious as to what had excited their fortune teller.

  They gathered eagerly as they realized who Serafin was. She began getting hugs from all quarters. She didn’t recognize many faces, and she had never known there to be so many children as part of the troop. She tried to remain polite, but couldn’t help looking back to her father, still standing at the door of their caravan.

  “And who is this?” her mother asked suddenly.

  Serafin turned to see Ash standing awkwardly just at the edge of the crowd.

  “Oh this is Ash!” she said, “Ash Pallamore, a Knight of the Guardian Guild.”

  The crowd all turned as one to see him and he shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, nodding politely as they greeted him and some began to shake his hand

  “He helped me escape,” continued Serafin, without thinking.

  “Escape!?” said her mother, worry in her voice.

  Serafin looked at her. She didn’t think it would be a good idea to get in to the details of what had happened just yet.

  “It’s a long story,” she said, “I’ll tell you later.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Serafin didn’t recognize the voice, and turned to see who had spoken.

  It was a young, dark haired man, whose chest was bare. He wore the tight fitting trousers of a trapeze artist, but as Serafin looked at his scowling face, she recognized the boy she had once known and her stomach tightened.

  “Cassius,” she whispered.

  “You had no right to come back here,” he growled.

  Her mother stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm.

  “It’s all in the past. Let it be.”

  “Your daughter brought shame on us, Pythia.” he said, throwing her arm off “She denied us and became one of them. She should never be accepted back here.” As he stepped towards Serafin, she was frightened, but held her ground.

  “Leave her!” demanded Ash, wading through the crowd, his voice suddenly hard with authority. He held his hand on the hilt of his sword, and stepped in front of Serafin. “I have sworn an oath to protect all Healers. If you have any quarrel with this woman, then you must come through me.”

  “Your oaths are worth not
hing here Guardian.” Cassius said, walking forward and standing a clear half foot over Ash’s slighter frame. “I have authority over this woman.”

  Ash looked from Serafin to Cassius, clearly confused.

  “By what right do you have authority over Serafin?”

  “By right of matrimony,” he said, “Serafin is my betrothed.”

  Chapter Four

  Bonfires and Fairytales

  She found Ash by the river.

  He sat with his sword by his side watching the water flow past. He was lost in thought and, carefully, she sat beside him on the grassy bank.

  “I made a fool of myself,” he said, after a while.

  “No.” She reached out and touched the back of his hand. “No, you didn’t.”

  “I should go,” he said. “I don’t belong here and we would be harder to find if we separated.”

  “You’re not getting out of it that easily,” she said, forcing a smile. “I need you to help me. We have to expose the guild for what they really are. I have sworn to avenge Gaia’s death and that is what I intend to do...”

  “I’m sure Cassius can help you.”

  “Cassius?” she said, “Cassius hates me! He wants me gone.”

  Ash looked up. “He seemed to think you were betrothed to him.”

  Serafin sighed. “That was a long time ago,” she said, “We were children, and it was just an agreement between our parents.”

  “You never mentioned it,” he said. “In all the years I have known you, you never even mentioned that you were betrothed to be married.”

  “It never came up.”

  He looked at her. “Never came up!?” he said angrily.

  “No! It never did and even if it had done I wouldn’t have mentioned it, it’s not important—”

  “Not important? Did you never stop to think that maybe I would think it was important?”

  “Why would it matter to you?” she said, angry that he should want to interfere with her life.

  He looked away, staring determinedly at the river.

  “I never intended to go through with it,” she said eventually. “That’s why I never considered it to be important. I never wanted it and I don’t think Cassius wanted it either… it was one of the reasons I wanted to get away from here.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said slowly “I just… I’m just upset that I didn’t know, that’s all. I thought we were good friends.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she said. “I think I just pretended it had never really happened, that nothing had ever happened before I entered that Abbey.”

  “I guess I can understand that,” he conceded.

  “We should get back,” Serafin said. “We have to get ready for the party tonight.”

  “Party?”

  “My mother is throwing a part in honor of my return.”

  “Have you told them why you’ve returned?”

  She scrambled up from the bank and stared back at the Circus camp.

  “Not yet,” she whispered.

  ***

  There was a great bonfire in the middle of the meadow. They would often have a bonfire on their last night in a town, never on the first, but her mother had explained this was an exceptional case.

  Serafin had been welcomed home by nearly every member of the troop, some of whom seemed just the same as the day she left, especially the white-faced-clown, Claude, who even appeared to be wearing the same clothes. She didn’t initially recognize the other two clowns; it was only when her mother introduced them that she realized they were his children, the youngest of which had barely been out of his mother’s arms when Serafin had left.

  “It’s good to have you home.” Claude had said, enthusiastically shaking her hand. “So good to see you my dear, you look so, so well. Will we be seeing you take to the air again?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, forcing a smile.

  “Shame, shame.” he said shaking his head, but still smiling. He gave Ash’s hand a brief shake before moving off to get some of the food.

  “Take to the air?” asked Ash, as soon as Claude was out of earshot.

  “Oh,” he said, “with Cassius?”

  “Actually,” she turned to look at him with unabashed pride “instead of Cassius; I was far better than him.”

  Ash laughed. “Speaking of which,” he said, looking around, “Where is Cassius?”

  Serafin scanned the gathering. There were so many faces, so many she didn’t recognize and only a few that she did, but she couldn’t see Cassius amongst them.

  “Probably sulking in his caravan,” she said.

  Just then a hush came over everyone.

  “What’s happening?” whispered Ash.

  “It’s my mother,” said Serafin, watching as Pythia took her place in front of the fire and everyone found a place to sit. “She’s going to tell a story.”

  Serafin sat down on the grass and indicated to Ash to take the place beside her.

  She smiled as the memoires came flooding back of the last time she had been by a campfire listening to stories. It made her feel safe, protected, at home.

  “In the deep past…” started her Mother, her voice the deep, resonant voice she used for her performances, “lived a young boy, the son of a fisherman. His name was Fabian.”

  Serafin allowed the familiar words to wash over her like a warm blanket. She closed her eyes and listened to her mother’s story.

  “Every morning he would go out with his father to fish the oceans, and every night he would come back, once again, to the land. Until one day, a great storm caused their fishing boat to capsize. A great wave came and swept young Fabian out to sea’

  ‘His father searched for him, and prayed for him to come home, but days turned to weeks, weeks to months and eventually his father lost all hope. He cursed the ocean, vowing never to go out to sea again. That night there was another great storm. The sky filled with lightning and the rain tore down on the fisherman’s hut. All night the storm thrashed against the fisherman’s home, and then, at the darkest point before the dawn, there came a knock at the door—”

  Serafin turned to Ash. He was captivated by the story. The fire shone on his face and in the soft light he seemed so young and actually quite handsome. She felt a pang of guilt about having brought him with her on this journey, about forcing him out of the guild and away from his home and friends. She tried to ignore how she felt and went back to listening to the story.

  “and Fabian said to his father ‘and so I must, for as long as the all elements obey me I am the most powerful in all the five kingdoms’ and so he slept in the branches of an apple tree to restore his strength, but, come the light of dawn, the Emperor’s army had amassed and were marching on the great city—”

  Serafin noticed her father standing at the edge of the group. He was distant from the others and looking directly at her. She hadn’t had a chance to speak to him and she felt that she needed to. She needed to know how he felt, and whether her return was as welcome to him as it was to her mother.

  “I’ll be right back,” she whispered to Ash. He nodded but barely glanced at her; he was absorbed in the fairytale.

  Serafin picked her way through the crowd and over to her father, who saw her coming and turned to walk away. She ran to catch up and walked by his side in silence.

  “I am happy to see you,” he said eventually, although he didn’t look to her.

  “I’m sorry I left the way I did.”

  “Your mother took it very hard.”

  It hurt to hear him say that, but she had known how upset her mother had been, for the first few years away the only letters she had received from her mother had been begging her to come home. It hadn’t always been easy, but she had been determined to finish her training and become a healer.

  “And you glad to see me?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  He stopped walking and stared up at the sky. It was a clear night and out in this part of the countr
y the sky was brimming with stars. It was so different from the sky back at the Abbey, above the plains of Talabrigga. Out in the mountains she really felt as though she was closer to the stars, as if it she could just leap up and grab them out of the sky.

  “I understood why you had to go.” He breathed out slowly and looked at her. “I knew exactly why you wanted to be a healer.”

  She looked away. She knew that coming back here she would have to face the memory at some point, would have to drag those emotions up from deep within her and confront the demons that had plagued her.

  “It was my fault,” he said reaching out a hand to her, “I should never have taught you fire-taming, I should never have expected so much from you, so young: I showed you how to use the power but not how to control it.”

  Suddenly she remembered the screams. She hadn’t allowed herself to go back to that memory but now it washed over her like a black wave. She could hear the screams and feel the heat of the flames. She had been so frightened; she had stood frozen to the spot while they had fought to control it. By the time her father had arrived and rushed in to pull out her brother, it had been too late.

  Max had died in his father’s arms.

  Chapter Five

  You Can’t Escape the Past

  “No one ever blamed you for what happened. It was an accident, and you were never expected to have been able to control a fire of that size. It was almost impossible even for me.” He reached out and took her in his arms.

  “I just couldn’t control it.” She sobbed, “It just ... it grew so quickly… I didn’t have the power to stop it.”

  “I know.” He held her tightly. “I know.”

  She let herself cry, as she let all the pent up emotion pour out of her and allowed herself to accept her father’s forgiveness. She had always judged herself so harshly for what had happened, but as she had grown and learned to control her talent she had slowly begun to realize just how difficult it was to tame fire and how much she had expected of herself that day. But she would never shake the memory of it and she would never be able to forgive herself.