Tag: volcano

A Gift for Life and Death (pt21)

The wizened tree stood on top of the volcano, a rather pathetic looking spindly piece of dried wood, that somehow was able to support the weight of the bird which slept on top of it.

Forgiveness rubbed at their arms, looking at the majestic beast. The feathers were of varied colour. The plumage of the body was golden where exposed with the occasional line of a deep red which showed between the line of each individual feather. The wings darkened, where those two different colours eventually blended together into a ruby tip for each primary feather. The scales of her feet were red as well, with white nails. The same colour as the beak, which stood in contrast to the carmine colouring of the head. No other winged creature would look like this, especially not at this size.

And at this stage of life, looking very healthy. Nowhere near the rebirth in her cycle.

Forgiveness sat down to take a moment – particularly to see what they could do about their own wings. Such a mess, after Pup had left them, and they hadn’t been fast enough to pass unscathed through the creatures of the world that tended to think an angel didn’t belong. Forgiveness was used to this behavior, though they usually did better at avoiding any marring caused by it. They didn’t want to return to Life like this, she would be saddened by their pain.

Then there was a sound. The angel looked up and saw what it was. Bright sapphire eyes glimmered with irritation. The phoenix had awakened. Apparently there was some sort of protocol that Forgiveness hadn’t observed by coming up here like this and the phoenix wasn’t happy.

A Gift for Life and Death (pt1)

When the angel forced their eyes open, it was because of the soil pressed up against their cheeks warming. They were alone, sitting up to look along up at the place where the mythic phoenix roosted. Their back was sore, though that was an improvement from before they had decided to take a nap. A distraction from the pain in their aileron, which had since sleep faded away.

Mayhaps not a good sign, but at least it wouldn’t hamper the last leg of their journey. One foot in front of the other, they began to climb the fresh soil on the sleeping volcano, home of the wizened tree.

Forgiveness knew fatigue, but it had never stopped them before.

It was time to consider what it was they would return with. When they had come up with this idea in the first place, they had thought about the phoenix alone, but now that they had come all this way, they knew it would be ridiculous to think about taking the phoenix back with them. Even if they had been capable of it, which they never had been, removing the phoenix from their home would have been a cruel thing to do. Which left them with the question: what might have been left for them that they could possibly take?

Forgiveness considered a feather, wondering if the phoenix who lived here would be willing to part with one. Well, no way of knowing the answer but to ask, so the angel continued their path up the mountain.

Death would laugh them right back into spring, the angel knew, when they showed up like this. This far for a representation of a concept they could have simply spoken to him about. Forgiveness knew better. They knew Death wouldn’t take them seriously. That was what this effort was for. For Death to actually listen to the point Forgiveness wanted to make.

The way was long and tiring, even for the most rested of traveller, but especially for one who had already made their way from afar and spent most of their energy doing that. The angel wished they had another options to ease their way. To fly, to ride. Those were options they had had available earlier on in their question. Now both had vanished, leaving them with their hands and feet, the same as any human mortal.

What the angel had once believed themselves to be.

Volcano

The volcano finally grew quiet. From above, the phoenix watched the cooling fields which had dripped down over the side, which had run all others out of the vicinity.

Now that the volcano had stopped speaking, the area was silent. No one else but the phoenix for miles. From the highest point, the phoenix glided down to the once lava, now obsidian, grounds. The bird raked talons across, creating marks within the forming stone. Flapping wings once more to gain height, the phoenix repeated the process.

For days, until anyone returned, all that was left to this place was the newly formed rock and the shapes which a playful avian decided to carve from it.