Little Phoenix

It was finally Solis-day, the day I was supposed to meet Vesper at the Liberum Cafe at Octingenti in the morning. I sat at a table, waiting for Vesper to get here. Maewyn sat on my shoulder, watching everyone in the cafe. The waitress walked over to me, looking at Maewyn with caution. She must be a human, I noted. Only humans are cautious of dragons.

She asked, “Is there anything I can get you, ma’am?” I told her, “No.” Maewyn let out a quiet roar and I rolled my eyes at Maewyn’s antics, looking at her, “Sorry, sorry. Aye, I know.” I looked back at the waitress and asked, “Can I have a drake crate for my dragon?” The waitress nodded, writing in her notebook. She told me, “Of course, that’ll be just a few minutes.”

I nodded in acknowledgement, looking at the front window. I see Vesper watch into the cafe and look around, his eyes landing on me within a few seconds. Vesper walks over to me, sitting in the chair in front of me. Maewyn hisses at him as she wraps her tail around my neck and raises her wings in the air.

Vesper looks taken aback by this, his smile falling from his face. Nonchalantly, I bop Maewyn on the head as I tell her, “Suma laietus.” Maewyn’s tail lets go of my neck, falling back to wrap itself around my arm as her wings fall. Maewyn’s small wings fall to hide the right side of my back and the right side of my torso.

I told Vesper, “I’m sorry about her.” Vesper shook his head, crossing his hands back and forth to make an X, “No, it’s fine. I know dragons can be very protective.” I shook my head, “Aye, but she knows better than to hiss at anyone that nears me.” Unless she knows they’re my target. Vesper nodded in acknowledgement as the waitress set down Maewyn’s drake crate on the table.

Maewyn trilled as she hopped off my shoulder, beginning to devour her drake crate. The waitress turned to Vesper and asked, “Would you like anything?” Vesper told her, “A black coffee, please.” The waitress nodded, “I’ll have that right out,” before turning to walk away. I slouched, my right hand lifting up to my necklace to twist it back and forth.

I asked, “What’s your species?” despite already knowing it. I added, “I mean, I’m obviously an Alis, but yours isn’t as obvious. Yeh could be a human, a Veneficis, a Banshee, or a Prosopoeia.” Vesper grinned, “And how do yeh know I’m not a Daiemonium?” I answered, “Your eyes,” pointing at his eyes.

“Yeh don’t have the black sclera that the Daiemonium has.”

Vesper nodded before he told me, “I’m a Veneficis.” I nodded my head in acknowledgement and Vesper asked, “What’s your dragon’s name?” I answered, “Maewyn,” looking at her. Maewyn looked at me, her face covered in the frosting from her drake crate. I asked, “What do yeh do for a livin’?” Vesper answered, “Oh! I work as an architect.” So Royce lied, I thought. The two of us continued talking for a while, allowing me to get to know my target a bit better.

I entered the house with Maewyn, being greeted by Devika.

“You had a nightmare last night,” Devika remarked. Maybe greeted is the wrong word to use in this case. I rolled my eyes. “‘Hey, Eli. How are yeh doin’?’ Oh, I’m doin’ great, thanks for askin’ Devi.” Devika rolled her eyes and I snarked, “That’s how yeh’re supposed to greet someone, Devi.” Devika rolled her eyes once again and I sighed.

“Aye, I did have a nightmare last night,” I admit after a second. “Zephyrine?” Devika assumes. I barely nod as Maewyn jumps off my shoulder, flying over to Devika. She nudges Devika in the cheek and Devika returns the affection by patting Maewyn’s head. I asked, “Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“How’s your target going then?”

I glare at my best friend. She knows the right buttons to push right now. I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation, “Fine! It’s goin’ fine! I’m goin’ have to kill my employer instead probably.” Devika guessed, “You got an innocent target?” I nodded, “Believe so.” I looked at Devika and I asked, “How’s the adoption goin’?”

Devika shrugged, “Still goin’. I’ll have an update tomorrow.” I nodded and I turned around on my heel, walking to my room. I entered my room and grabbed my notebook and a pen, sitting down on my bed. I read through my notebook, reading one of my newly finished poems.

““You have blood on your hands,”

they say.

As if it ends there,

at your wrist like a glove.

As though you could do this

and there could be a be a part of you

that wasn’t stained or

dripping with blood.”

I smile at the poem once I finish reading it. I love and hate that poem; it always calls me out when I read it. I close my notebook and set it down on my nightstand, setting my pen down on top of it. I lay down, playing with my necklace as I stare at the window ceiling.

After a while of silence, I began quietly singing a lullaby my mom taught me long ago. She never told me its name, but it was a Latin lullaby about the sun and stars.

“Sol lucet per serenas dies,

aureis radiis bonam cutem.

Stellae lucent nocte,

numquam visa alio tempore.

Stellae luceant,

luceant~

luceant me~

Ego sum stella,

ego sum sol.”

I closed my eyes, letting myself drift off to sleep as childhood memories began playing in my head from that one nostalgic song.

I stood in my art studio, trying to finish a painting I started years ago. The walls were covered with paintings and some dots of splattered paint while the floors were covered with splattered paint. The song “Jungle” by Emma Louise came on as I painted. I sang along, this song being one of my favourite songs to sing.

“In a dark room, we fight, make up for our love

I’ve been thinking, thinking ’bout you, ’bout us

And we’re moving slow, our hearts beat so fast

I’ve been dreaming, dreaming ’bout you, ’bout us

Hey, hey

Hey, hey”

I swiped my paintbrush across my pale legs, wiping off some of the paint. I dipped my paintbrush in the green paint and I took a breath before I continued singing.

“My head is a jungle, jungle

My head is a jungle, jungle

My head is a jungle, jungle

My head, oh

I’m speaking soft, see the pain in your eyes

I’ve been feeling, feeling for you, my love

And our bodies are tired, our shadows will dance

I’ve been aching, aching for you, my love

My head is a jungle, jungle

My head is a jungle, jungle

My head is a jungle, jungle

My head

My love is wasted, sorry for this

I never meant to be hurting ourselves, hurting ourselves

And I’m complicated, you won’t get me

I have trouble understanding myself, understanding myself

And my love is wasted, sorry for this

I never meant to be hurting ourselves, hurting ourselves

And I’m complicated, you won’t get me

I have trouble understanding myself, understanding myself”

I felt the paint on my wrist begin to dry as I wiped my paint-cover fingers against my shirt. I took a breath before continuing to sing.

“My head is a jungle, jungle

My head is a jungle, jungle

My head is a jungle, jungle

My head

Oh-oh-oh-oh

Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh-oh (oh-oh, oh-oh)

oh-oh-oh-oh

(My head is a jungle, jungle) oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh

(My head is a jungle) oh-oh-oh-oh

Oh-oh”

As the song ended, I finally finished the painting I had been working on for years. It was a simplistic painting of a beautiful woman to most, but not to me. It was of Zephyrine. She wasn’t looking at me, looking in front of her, with a stained glass window behind her.

The window framed her almost perfectly, and it held its own form of beauty, the glory of the glass only served to reiterate the exquisiteness of Zephyrine’s natural self. Her features were defined by her high cheekbones, barely decorated with a youthful amount of baby fat. It further projected that youthful innocence that accompanies that of a young woman.

Full lips barely parted with light pink lipstick coating her lips. Her eyes were full of amazement and her skin was tinted pink from the flow of red blood through her veins. Her half elf-like ears were revealed, her hair being pushed behind her left ear.

Her brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, nearly covering her magik tattoo. The magik tattoo on the left side of her neck was easy to see. The magik tattoo was of an hourglass with sand running through it continuously until it had to flip itself and restart the process. Her green eyes mirrored the sight in front of her, a sunset.

Her eyes were mainly pink, and orange, looking like they were on fire, but Zephyrine’s limbal rings stayed green, framing the rest of her irises. I smiled to myself as the memory of the one time I allowed Zephyrine in here came into my mind, playing through my head.

- Flashback -

I stood in my art studio, painting as Zephyrine stood still, watching me paint. The walls and floor were covered with splattered paint and the walls also had some painted canvases hung up on them. I had put on some music that was just playing in the background as I painted my feelings onto the previously white canvas.

The current song that was playing was, “Brother” by Madds Buckley. I was humming along as I painted, the song being one of my favourite songs.

“Oh, brother of mine

It’s been a long, long time

Since I’ve seen my face in your eyes

Oh brother, I’ve returned

To my burn scars of birth

Charcoal and iron brought me back

And I left you alone in a house, not a home

And I watched the burning grow as my hair filled with grey

From the ashes that fell

The mountains I knew so well

Burned with hellfire in the blue light of midnight

Brother, I watched the sky burn

And all I learned was smoke fills the lungs like a disease

Oh brother, I see

You burn like me

The singes on our skin like a brand

Oh brother, I confess

There is little of me left that could care about dousing the wildfire

And I left you alone in a house, not a home

And I watched the burning grow as my hair filled with grey

From the ashes that fell

The mountains I knew so well

Burned with hellfire in the blue light of midnight

Brother, I watched the sky burn

And all I learned was smoke fills the lungs like a disease

Oh brother, did you know

You could just strike a match?

Hear him scream my name one last time

Oh brother, I am home in the fires of our youth

I could care less if it hurts you anymore

And I left you alone in a house, not a home

And I watched the burning grow as my hair filled with grey

From the ashes that fell

The mountains I knew so well

Burned with hellfire in the blue light of midnight

Brother, I watched the sky burn

And all I learned was smoke fills the lungs like a disease”

As the song finished, I also finished the painting I had started just a few minutes ago. Zephyrine remarked, “That’s beautiful.” I replied nostalgically, “Everythin’ can be.” An idea flitted across my mind and I looked at my paint palette covered in wet paint. I dipped my paintbrush in red paint and turned to face her.

Zephyrine looked at me in confusion as a grin spread across my lips, my lip curling under my teeth. I flicked paint at her, getting red paint splattered over her left cheek and the left side of her neck. Zephyrine’s jaw dropped and I let out a laugh. I watched as Zephyrine grabbed some blue paint and threw it at me.

I gasped, my eyes going wide as I accidentally dropped my paintbrush onto the floor. I joked, “Yeh bloody twat!” Zephyrine laughed as she closed her eyes with a wide smile on her face. I grabbed a handful of paint and slapped it onto her shirt, splattering on it. More paint got thrown at me by Zephyrine.

The paint splattered all over my black tank top, my black sliding shorts, and my pale legs. I cursed, “Yeh asshat!” as I got some more paint. I threw the paint at Zephyrine, getting paint splattered in her hair. I watched as Zephyrine’s eyes widened in shock then a mischievous grin covered his lips. Oh no.

Zephyrine grabbed two handfuls of paint and threw it at me. The paint splattered in my hair, my arms, and my neck. I began laughing and Zephyrine began laughing as well as I stumbled into her. The two of us continued laughing. I managed to stop laughing after a few minutes and I let go of Zephyrine.

I apologised with a cheeky smile, “Sorry about your clothes,” looking at her nice clothes that were now covered in paint. Zephyrine shrugged, “No worries. Clothes can be replaced.” I nodded and the two of us walked upstairs, Zephyrine being careful not to get paint on the floor.

- Flashback Ends -

I quietly sighed, “I miss those days.” I miss them, but I wouldn’t give up what I have right now. nodded to myself, setting down my paints and paintbrush. I took off my paint shirt and used it to wipe my paint-covered fingertips. I dropped my paint shirt on the paint-splattered ground before making my way up to my room.