Book 2: Chapter 78

Tafel hummed as she approached a deep pit in the ground. It was ringed by pointy red rocks, looking much like a gaping maw. As she got closer, wailing sounds crept into her mind, but she dismissed it as the sounds of the wind. The baby phoenix standing on her horns peered over her head, blinking at the abyss below. It opened its mouth and chirped. “Um. Scary.”

“Scary?” Tafel asked, rolling her eyes up to look at the phoenix. Its body was as round as a ball, engorged with as much lava as it wanted to drink. “I think it’s quite relaxing, no?” She crouched by the edge of the pit, and a glowing red eye stared back up at her. A deep growling sound sent chills down the baby phoenix’s spine. It shivered as Tafel extended her arm towards the bottom of the pit. “How was it, Spitty? Did the tears taste good?”

“Good!” a raspy voice replied.

Tafel flinched and nearly dropped the blade she had just picked up. “Did…, did you say something?” she asked the phoenix on her head. The phoenix rapidly shook its head back and forth before burying itself underneath strands of her hair. Tafel bit her lower lip as she drew the purple sword out of the pit. “Spitty?”

The eye on the sword blinked. “Yes?”

Tafel furrowed her brow. “The book said you’d see an improvement after consuming the tears of those in despair,” she said and tilted her head. “It never said anything about you learning to speak.”

The sword let out a strange grunting noise. “Improvement. I can chant your spells for you,” Spitty said. Tafel tried to find the source of the sound, but she couldn’t. Perhaps it was similar to Mr. Skelly’s ability to talk without his skull. “Can also chant the same spell as you to double cast.”

“Oh, that’s pretty neat,” Tafel said with a nod. “Did anything else change?”

“No,” Spitty said, its eye half-closing. “But, please, change my name.”

Tafel tilted her head. “You don’t like Spitty?” she asked. “Then how about Sharpy?”

“Dangerous copyrights,” Spitty said. “Something else.”

“Dangerous what?” Tafel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Then … Swordy?”

“Something that doesn’t start with S and end with Y,” Spitty said and sighed. “I am not a pet.”

“You’re awfully picky, aren’t you?” Tafel asked with a scowl. “Picky?”

“Ends with a Y.”

Tafel sighed, and she prodded the phoenix hiding in her hair with a finger. “What’s a good name for this sword?”

The phoenix popped its head out of her hair. “Is it male or female?”

Tafel’s expression darkened. “It’s a sword.”

“Then name it Chi’Rururp,” the phoenix said. “It means sword in phoenix.”

“Huh,” Tafel said and blinked. “I guess it makes sense for phoenixes to have their own language. So why do you know this one?”

The phoenix shuddered. “Percy taught it to me.”

“Percy? Who’s that?”

“A bad person! She tried to drown me, so I ran away!”

“Chi’Rururp sounds nice,” Spitty said. “Address me as such from now on.”

“Alright, Chi’Rururp,” Tafel said as she strapped the sword to her back. “The next step is to shave a red-headed elf. The longer the hair, the better the effects.”

“Percy has red hair!” the phoenix said. “Shave her. She’s always hanging around Mom like a sticky piece of poop.”

“You really don’t like this Percy fellow, huh?” Tafel asked, tickling the phoenix’s belly with her finger. “But if she’s always hanging around your mom, won’t your mom get angry at me?”

“No.” The phoenix wiggled its body and shook its head. “Percy annoys Mom too.”

Tafel hummed and nodded. “That’s good then. Now—”

“Tafel! There you are,” a skeleton said as it burst through a patch of shrubs. “Hurry back to the main camp; a phoenix is on its way. It might have already arrived. Normally, we wouldn’t be this concerned since we’re already dead, but Alice isn’t. Unless things have changed during the time it took me to get here. Ah, but if Alice died, then she and the leader could…, Tafel?” The skeleton looked around, but Tafel had already disappeared in a flash of silver light. It clacked its teeth together before running back in the direction it came from. “You could’ve teleported me as well, you know?”

Back at the camp, a silver ring appeared on the ground by Alice’s tent. Seconds later, Tafel appeared along with the phoenix, who was trying to maintain its balance. Flames engulfed the surroundings, but surprisingly, the trees and grass weren’t on fire. The flames seemed to have a mind of their own, leaving the forest untouched but burning the air inside of it. Above her, a massive red bird glided around in circles, occasionally letting out clear cries.

“It’s Mom,” the phoenix chirped. It flapped its wings, but it was too fat to get off of Tafel’s head. “Water weight! Too heavy.”

“Emile! Is that you?” an ancient yet young voice said. The phoenix in the sky swooped down, landing in front of Tafel.

“Mom!” the baby phoenix said and hopped up and down. “This is Tafel. She’s really nice. Can you make her my sister?”

The phoenix matriarch blinked and stared at Tafel. “What did you do to my baby!? He’s so round!”

Tafel coughed and adverted her gaze. “That wasn’t me.” She lowered her head. “It’s nice to meet you, matriarch. Emile’s told me a lot about you.”

The phoenix matriarch tilted her head and leaned closer to Tafel. “What are you? A mix between elves and a fairy?”

“Mom!” Emile said, flapping his wings while puffing his chest out. “Stop ignoring me!”

“I’m a demon,” Tafel said. “There’s none on this continent, so it’s not a surprise you’ve never seen someone like me before.”

The phoenix matriarch nodded. “A different continent,” she said. “I’m also not from around here.” She sighed and shook her head. The air continued to burn while the tents housing the captive elves were set ablaze. The elves screamed, but they stopped when they realized the flames weren’t going to hurt them.

“Mom!” Emile said, flapping his wings.

“Anyways,” Tafel said, clearing her throat. “May I ask why you’re burning everything? Are you here for your child? He decided to follow me one day; I swear I didn’t kidnap him.”

The phoenix matriarch tilted her head the other way. “Other than my son, do you know any other phoenixes?”

“Mom…”

“Yes, my stepdaughter-in-law,” Tafel said and scratched her head. “And her daughter. Kind of.”

“Hmm, I see,” the phoenix matriarch said with a nod. “I actually came here to purge the undead. I think I got most of them.”

Tafel looked around. A dozen charred skeletons littered the ground. Most of them? she thought. You barely burnt any and they’re not even really dead. She bit her lower lip. “Yup, looks like you got most of them,” she said with a nod. “I don’t see any around. Did you see a human by any chance? She wore glasses, brown hair, a little on the short side.”

“I didn’t,” the matriarch said, shaking her head. She glanced around, and the elves prostrated themselves before her. “Well, it looks like my work here is done.”

“Mom!” Emile shouted. “Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!”

The phoenix matriarch heaved a sigh. “What is it, Emile?”

“Can you make Tafel my sister?” Emile asked as he sat on Tafel’s head, his little talons sticking out over her forehead. “She’s a good person. I like her. Take her home, please.”

“We’ll see,” the phoenix matriarch said and furrowed her brow. She glanced at Tafel. “I’m going back to my nest. Would you like to come along?”

“Of course!” Tafel said with a smile. The time she spent manipulating the baby phoenix wasn’t wasted. “I’d be happy to.”

Moments after Tafel was whisked away by the phoenix matriarch, a skull and a head full of brown hair popped out of the ground. Alice turned towards Mr. Skelly. “You’re going to let her leave just like that?” she asked after spitting out a clump of dirt.

“It’s her choice; she’ll be fine,” Mr. Skelly said. “Besides, if she dies, she can join us in being fleshless.” Hundreds of skeletons climbed out of the ground and seized the elves that had been freed mere moments ago. “But it looks like we’ve overstayed our welcome in the forest. There wasn’t even a chance to talk to that bird before she tried to kill me, how unreasonable. I guess we’ll have to breach the dwarves’ defense with a different method now that the south has been closed off to us.”