Part Seven: Age of Solstice


    <h2>CHAPTER 91 – FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX</h2>


    Mitakahn opened his eyes. He could feel his hand. It was still connected to his body. He pulled in his arm. And his gauntleted hand came back with a gift of miracles.


    A huge sword made of dark charcoal steel still smoldered after its renaissance. Mitakahn was awestruck. Euphrati could not believe it. Anilithion gasped and Humbler smiled. Tron praised the gods and Excelsior looked like he knew the whole time while Orion had only the slightest idea of what was happening. Bridger wanted a look for himself and Kunezar simply could not believe it.


    The handle was strapped in brown leather and embroidered with an emerald clasp in the center, dividing the two-hand grip. The long blunt blade looked like it was carved out of crystal. The hot metal simmered. Smooth ruby red crystal panels lined the subtle edges on the blade.


    The cave walls around the altar reflected the reddish glow. The sword had a slight curve going down the side. This discreet feature gave it a distinguished look. Resembling a flame-like curve down the center of the blade. There was an inscription. Translated into common tongue, it read, “Burn High, the Hearts of Heroes”.


    It tingled in Mitakahn’s hand as he read it. He could feel the heat from it through his silver gauntlet, but it did not hurt. The prince finally held the sword and yet no fire emitted from it.


    “I don’t understand.”


    Was he not the hero?


    Mitakahn was putting the puzzle together in his head. Maybe he was never meant to wield it. Maybe the reason he needed the glass jar of his father''s dying breath was for this very moment. This was supposed to be how Mitakahn brought his father back, the true hero of their story. Theomitus was always more of a champion of the people than any of them. If there was anyone who could save the day it was the one true king. This whole time he was keeping hope alive in the back of his mind, hope in the idea that this sword was for his father.


    “The Sword of Heroes, the Crucifire Sword you’ve done it! You have found the ancient blade of the Gods!” Nikoli praised. He seemed to be the only one excited, clearly missing whatever the others knew. If it was not clear for Nikoli it became so once he saw the look on Mitakahn''s face. "It does not light for you. Which means…it is not meant for you."


    "Who then?" Anilithion asked.


    "A king who is worthy." Answered Excelsior.


    Tron walked up to Mitakahn. He had a knack for insinuating Mitakahn''s thoughts, as if present in his mind. "It was never going to be what you needed it to be." Tron said.


    "I don''t understand," Anilithion spoke for the group.


    “This whole time I knew there was something missing. I kept it secret from most of you, right next to the guilt I feel for my father''s death. The two are connected in that sense. Above everything else, I was quietly convinced this would restore the King in the Pride, but I never understood how…” He told the group, but looked at Euphrati, “Until this very moment, with it staring right back at me.”


    “So, what are you proposing Mitakahn?” Bridger asked him.


    “Eberlyn?” Nikoli interrupted, finally getting a good look at Euphrati’s face, “Baby Eberlyn…can it be?”


    Euphrati looked over at him, “Did you know me?”


    “Know you! I was your father’s best friend. It is because of him that I sit here before you today. He was the Gatekeeper long ago, and I was the one who took his place so he might go after your mother, my…sister. I’m your Uncle, Eberlyn. I’m sorry I never looked for you. Even if there was a rumor of your survival from the…But that was a long time ago….” He gave her a grim look of failure. “I’m sorry.”


    Euphrati needed no more proof than the look in Nikoli’s eyes. All her doubts were finally put to rest, all questions solved. Now it was time to do the same for him…This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    “My father carried me away to a small town in the mountains and they raised me to be decent and true,” she explained, “I return to you now to tell you there is nothing to fear. I am happy. I am fulfilled. I thank you for your sacrifice to the holy flame.


    The fire behind him began to grow larger as if dialed up too high. The infernal door was growing wide for an entrance. Nikoli took notice of the shift, something he had been trained to anticipate.


    “I cannot take you back to your palace myself, blessed prince…” as Nikoli spoke, the mountain shook, and the air became thin, as though it was being sucked out of the room by the portal, “but fear not, for hope can take form in the most uncanny of vessels.”


    And with that, out from the Flame Eterna opened a gateway of fire and the Mighty Phoenix, Lorde Alphatross, God of the Mountains and Skies, returned back into MagnaThora, the realm of man, for another flight.


    With this magnificent sight, Euphrati’s eyes burst out of belief in bright red flames. She was overcome by blissfulness and gave utter praise to her tangible god. The fire in her eyes spread throughout her body. Once covered entirely, the flames grew thick and Incapsulated her, burning her clothes off. The fire was confined around her like a cocoon. It refined and out from the back of her shoulder-blades were glorious wings. Made of long dark flaming feathers, they covered her rebirthing body. The flames were pressed and dressed her in a tightly woven auburn gown. The Phoenix baptized her with its inner flame. Her wings caught the flame and set on fire, giving them a more robust red coloring compared to the rest of the tribe. This was a flame straight from the holy source. Euphrati was once again Eberlyn…and home at last.


    In her revelations, she discovered Mitakahn’s breakthrough for herself. Eberlyn turned towards him. With her newfound sense of purpose, her voice flowed out in melodic waves of cathartic heraldry as she gathered the attention of the room, gracefully lifting into the air for the first time.


    “I will take the sword to Axion.”


    Mitakahn bowed his head to her. He held up the sword with both his hands. The sword that he had fought so hard to find, he gave away with no more than a thought. It was in this humility that Mitakahn could finally comprehend the final truth: Yes, he was meant to find the sword, but destiny would never allow him use of its powers for himself, or to bring King Theomitus back from the dead.


    Deep down, in the pit of his stomach, he knew there was no bringing Theomitus back. This was what the gods had always intended. Perhaps they were not yet done with him.


    Mountain guards ran into the altar room, “My lord! Word from our scouts… Zepathorum is under relentless siege!”


    Chronis cawed out on Mitakahn’s shoulder. The silver bird waved his wings and pulled them together to chime a signal of tones. The Phoenix cried out and burned a hole in the top of the mountain. Upon the disappearance of the mountaintop and the appearance of the sky, the company saw six humongous chrome-faced condors soaring above.


    Soldiers of the Phoenix, these ancestral titan birds ruled over the skies of all MagnaThora. Up above the clouds was Legacy City, the only stop between MagnaThora and the Afterlight. There are only two ways to get to Legacy City if you are not a bird, and one of them is the Observatories in Mount Fire.


    They were pure white and brown birds with a dark gray line going down both sides of their bodies, and over-wide wingspans. Their shining metallic faces moved and breathed, and their hearts beat, but they were so full of magic that they coexisted in harmony and dealt only in eternity. If their bodies were destroyed they did not die, for they were timeless beings, and, like the Phoenix Kingdom, blessed offspring of the ancient Sunbird God. The essence of their being would ascend into their chrome masks, returning to Legacy City to attach itself to a new condor.


    They landed, one by one, before the Altar and picked up the company. Anilithion went on one, Tron mounted the next, Excelsior on another, Bridger got onto the fourth one, and Kunezar and Humbler the fifth and sixth. Chronis cawed out once again and used the gathering of such fury to morph into a version of himself as big as a condor. The giant silver-tailed hawk landed next to his friend the canine and picked Orion up by the extra fur on the back of his neck and shoulders, to fly beside the condors and their human counterparts.


    Mitakahn watched Eberlyn spread her elegant wings and rise high into the air for the first time, while the rest of the company took off behind her. The Phoenix launched into the air behind him, growing larger by the second, swooping under Mitakahn’s legs, and flew out of the mountain high up into the sky.


    Nikoli stood from his seat and ordained with his quickly fleeting words, “Go Now! Son of the great King Theomitus with the Centennial Flight of Alphatross, Lorde Phoenix and God of MagnaThora! May you be blessed, he who walks amongst the Gods!”


    They traveled at unbelievable speeds, blurring the passing scenery of the ground to gray. Without a moment to be spared, they journeyed across the countryside and got to the dark cloud that was eclipsing the Pride. Mitakahn rode atop the Phoenix, not sure if he was really sitting on anything at all. He felt no seat or saddle. And he could only see ramped flames burning all around him. Mitakahn thought of himself as floating on the sun.


    He let himself go and took it all in. He might not be intended for the crucifire sword but look where he sat: conquering leagues of distance in a short moment, flying effortlessly through the sky, and of course, the raw divinity carrying him, bleeding essence together with him. Mitakahn felt a new kind of energy. He looked down past the blurred brown and gray at the world with renewed eyes. What he saw was beautiful and worth preserving.


    Then an imperfection came into view. It was bizarre seeing the dark storm clouds from above. What a majestic comfort did it behold; being above the darkness. The Phoenix moved to the head of the convoy and shot a funnel of fire out from its mouth, burning a tunnel into the clouds, creating a passageway to the other side. The light poured into the hole in the cloud and shined through to the Zepathorum Citadel courtyard battle raging on the other side. Eberlyn carried the sword into the clouded tunnel with everyone else following behind her.