My Eldrin Forsythe [October Short Story]

Hey guys!

Here is October's short story! It's from the viewpoint of Zaxis Ren. I hope you all enjoy!

My Eldrin Forsythe

Zaxis Ren

On the Isle of Ruma, the Day of Phoenixes happened once every ten years. Young hopefuls on the island would gather near the foot of the Pillar in order to take the phoenix’s Trial of Worth. My island’s tradition stated that only the schoolmaster would choose who could take the trial, and that was for the best.

We didn’t want layabouts, criminals, or delinquents becoming arcanists.

That was why I had done everything Schoolmaster Tyms had told me. I studied into the night, I cleaned the schoolhouse hundreds of times, and even helped with the community whenever they needed someone.

Schoolmaster Tyms lectured me all the time.

Zaxis Ren, you need to conduct yourself with confidence at all times. You represent our island. You represent the future.

He would drone on and on and on.

And I did it. All of it. So why was Volke Savan allowed to enter the phoenix’s Trial of Worth? He just barged into the scene and ran up the steps. Didn’t he know how long I had studied for this day? This was my only future. Volke was technically an apprentice with the gravekeeper. If I didn’t bond, what would I have? I hadn’t learned any other skills other than to care for a phoenix and develop my magics!

Well, I had memorized that ridiculous Pillar and all its steps, but that wouldn’t help me become a silversmith or tailor if I failed to impress a phoenix. How could the island allow Volke to take this from me?

Every Day of Phoenixes had the same three trials. The charberry tree was the first. Although I tried to stop Volke from taking a berry, I wasn’t successful. No one helped me, either. Not even Atty. They all just watched—frowning—as I tried to subdue him atop the Pillar. Those charberries were sacred! A gravedigger shouldn’t touch them.

At the top of the Pillar, with the charberry tree, Volke and I grabbed our berries and rushed back down the steps. That thief took the steps three at a time. I chased after, but I was slower—I didn’t want to fall. I hated that Volke would first! Why was he determined to make me look like a fool?

The center market on the Isle of Ruma had been prepared for the Day of Phoenixes. A large wooden table sat in the middle of a hastily constructed stage. Schoolmaster Tyms and the two phoenixes—perched on ornate stands—were there waiting for us.

Well, they were waiting for me and Atty, but once Volke reached the bottom of the Pillar, he smoothed his coat and sauntered over the stage, his charberry in hand.

I raced as fast as I could to the wooden stage, desperate to get my berry on the table at the same time as Volke.

I jumped onto the stage, ignoring the stares of the crowd, and shot Volke a glower. He replied with a smirk—what a bucket. He thought he would beat me? I was ready for this!

I placed my charberry next to Volke’s, pleased that mine was larger. When I stepped back from the table, I met Volke’s hard gaze and whispered, “You won’t win. The phoenixes can probably smell the corpse dirt on you.”

Messing with someone’s mind always hindered their performance.

Confidence. Without it, we surrender too early.

If Volke lost his confidence, he’d leave early. I was certain of it.

Tyms stood at the opposite end of the stage, his face red and his lips pursed together, like always. The man was twig-thin and tall, and the wave of his long hair complimented the beach of his gigantic forehead. Tyms glowered at Volke the entire time, never saying a word.

The crowd cheered and pointed to the top of the Pillar.

I glanced up, curious about their reactions. Atty descended the Pillar with a charberry in hand. That didn’t surprise me. Atty had said she had a plan to impress the phoenixes with her demeanor.

Phoenixes had three steps to their Trial of Worth. First step, the charberry. Second step, the test of knowledge. Third step, display tranquility. I knew all the steps, and I knew what to do. I shook my arms out, hating Volke’s close proximity.

He was taller than I was! It irritated me. And he didn’t keep himself groomed. His black hair was wild all the time, caught by the winds and styled with the weather. Volke wasn’t really from the islands. He was born here, but not his parents. He looked like an outsider.

He wore hand-me-down clothing that didn’t fit right, though they were clean. I clearly had more muscle. No contest. And he wasn’t handsome or anything—he looked like something I drew with my left hand. Well, maybe not that bad, but still. He was some ratty teen, barely a man, up on this stage like he belonged.

Still irked me.

When Atty approached the stage, I realized her charberry was larger than mine. I exhaled, but I kept my frustrations to myself. I couldn’t let the phoenixes know I was struggling.

Atty placed her berry on the table and then took her place next to me and Volke.

“Now we shall see who brought back the most appealing fruit,” Tyms said with a sweeping motion of his arm. He pointed to Atty’s. “Will it be the succulent berry, picked with care?” He pointed to mine. “Will it be this juicy berry, perfectly ripe in all regards?” Then he gestured to Volke’s with a flick of his wrist. “Or will it be the merely adequate offering?”

I almost laughed, but I kept it to myself.

Both phoenixes stretched their wings and took flight, a burst of fire whooshing with each flap as they sailed overhead. The festival goers clapped and pointed, some even dancing together as the birds circled around. Soot rained onto the streets, but no one who lived in Ruma minded. They all knew phoenix soot wouldn’t harm them.

Whichever berry the phoenixes chose would determine which participant of the trials had gained their favor.

The girl phoenix swooped down and snatched up Atty’s fruit in one beautiful streak of flame. The city burst into instant celebration, the cheers so loud they shook the cobblestone under the stage. Atty smiled and waved, never breaking her calm exterior.

Her plan was going perfectly.

The second phoenix circled around, and I watched him intently. The charberry portion of the trial was the least important, but I still wanted to make a great impression. Would the phoenix pick mine? My parents—and my little brother—were in the crowd. I didn’t want to disappoint them by being the only one who didn’t get the attention of a phoenix.

Then the phoenix descended. It grabbed Volke’s charberry with its talons and flew back into the air on a breeze of heat and flame. I gritted my teeth, my anger so intense I almost pushed Volke off the stage.

I swallowed my rage, trying to remain calm.

Tranquility. Tranquility. Tranquility.

Phoenixes liked tranquility, apparently.

The citizens of Ruma didn’t cheer for Volke, and that pleased me a bit.

A wave of murmuring spread through the crowd like a ripple on the water. Words of discontent floated up one at a time, the onlookers growing bolder with each statement.

“Is it even fair that he’s here?” a woman asked.

A man replied, “I can’t believe the phoenixes were impressed by someone like him.”

“Isn’t he the son of that murderer?”

“Oh, you’re right. Dreadful. Someone like him should never become an arcanist.”

Right? I agreed with them. Volke hadn’t demonstrated his worthiness yet. There was no need to cheer for him. Atty and I had studied for years! We read every book, and every note that Schoolmaster Tyms had written. We had paid our dues.

Tyms marched across the wooden stage, his face so tomato red it shifted into a shade of eggplant purple. The man was a walking farmer’s market.

The phoenixes landed back on their perches and slurped down their charberries.

“The second trial is of knowledge,” Tyms said, spittle sprinkling out with each forced word. “The first question will go to Volke.”

Him? Again? Why was Tyms favoring Volke by even acknowledging his presence?

The crowd was silent, even the children. I bit back my anger and waited along with them.

Volke stepped forward. In the past, the schoolmaster would ask questions about the history of Ruma, the history of arcanists, or the meaning of the steps leading up to the charberry tree. Tyms had told me that he would ask simple questions for Atty and I. But what would happen with Volke?

That brazen gravedigger lifted his head. “I’m ready.”

“Who was our island’s sixth keeper of the coin, and how many years did he serve us?” Tyms demanded.

The crowd was silent.

The question surprised me. I snapped my attention to Tyms and frowned. Was he planning on surprising all of us with difficult questions?

Volke muttered things under his breath, like he was reciting some sort of poem. Did he know the answer? Or was he finally losing his composure? Everyone waited with bated breath.

Tyms grew impatient, his jaw clenched tight.

“Have you suffered a stroke, boy?” he yelled.

“Brisby Hovel,” Volke said, finally answering the question. “That was the sixth keeper of coin and he served for six years.”

Tyms sneered. The crowd remained quiet, but the few who knew the answer nodded and pointed. Since Volke had gotten that question correct, Tyms would now ask something of me or Atty. I straightened my posture, determined to impress the crowd.

“Hmph.” Tyms paced the stage. “Next will be Atty.”

My heart fell, but I remained determined. Saving the best for last, I see.

“I’m ready,” Atty said.

Cheers. Applause. Would they do the same for me?

Tyms asked, “Who was our island’s founder?”

What?

Easy. Effortless. Our island was named after Gregory Ruma. What kind of jest was this? Or was Tyms mocking Volke by giving him questions that were absurd?

“Our island’s founder was none other than Master Arcanist Gregory Ruma,” Atty responded.

“Very good.” Tyms smiled and then turned to me. “Are you prepared for your question?”

“I’ve been ready my whole life,” I said, my pulse running faster now that I had a chance to prove myself.

More cheering, but less than with Atty. I tried to ignore that fact. At least they cheered.

“Which mystical creature did Gregory Ruma bond to?” Tyms asked.

“A leviathan,” I said without hesitation. What a simple question. I almost felt bad for Volke.

Almost.

“That’s correct,” Tyms said. Then he turned his glower back to Volke. “Young arcanists must know our island’s oath. It is a requirement for bonding.”

“I’m aware,” Volke said, his own frustrations seeping into his speech. He always got stiff when he was angry, like he was cold with rage. It amused me.

“Can you recite every step up the Pillar? Without paper or prompt?”

“I can.”

Volke’s declaration got everyone excited.

Who cared if he knew all the steps of the Pillar? I knew all the steps. It wasn’t that impressive.

“Then recite the thirty-seventh step,” Tyms said.

Volke half-smiled. “Compassion. Without it, we make the world a crueler place.”

The crowd seemed to have mixed feelings on this one. Volke had answered correctly, but no one wanted that, myself included. But when had Volke memorized all the steps? There were one hundred and twelve! It had taken me months to memorize all of them, and that was with careful training. Volke had been learning how to become a gravedigger. When had he studied the Pillar?

I never saw him studying. Maybe Volke was cheating.

“And the eightieth step?” Tyms demanded.

Why wasn’t Tyms asking me or Atty another question? It broke tradition to focus on one person. The questions were supposed to be spread evenly.

While I wanted Volke to leave, this didn’t seem like the right way to do it. This seemed… thuggish, for lack of a better word. I didn’t say anything, though. This wasn’t my fight. Volke was an adult now. He could take care of himself.

“Bravery,” Volke eventually replied. “Without it, we cannot act in the face of fear.”

“What about the one hundred and twelfth step?” Tyms asked, practically yelling.

Volke hesitated. Then he replied, “It’s been destroyed. It’s been gone for over a decade.”

“That’s no excuse,” Tyms snapped. “You said you could recite every step, so let’s hear it.”

Silence stretched between them. I waited, wondering what Volke was thinking. He didn’t know the last step? I understood why. The words on the step had faded. No one could read them. If it weren’t for Tyms, not even I would know what they said.

“There is no answer,” Volke said, anger laced in his words. “The step doesn’t exist.”

Tyms’s wrinkled face finally twisted from a frown into a genuine smile. The red drained from his cheeks as he lifted his bushy white eyebrows straight toward his receding hairline. “Zaxis, can you recite the one hundred and twelfth step?”

Finally. My chance.

“Justice,” I said, standing even straighter. “Without it, we cannot differentiate from revenge.”

Tyms returned his attention to Volke. “Do you know the hundred and eleventh step?”

That step was also smashed. It was disgusting that Tyms would use them as a tool against Volke. Again, I said nothing, but I saw Atty’s calm demeanor crack. She clenched her fists, and I thought she might say something.

But no.

She remained as quiet as I did.

“Atty.” Tyms snapped his fingers.

“Mercy,” Atty replied. “Without it, we cannot help others find redemption.”

Tyms held his arms up. “Well, there you have it. Volke, you misspoke about your talents, you’re clearly not as educated as your peers, and you attempted to hide your shortcomings through arrogance. For shame.”

“Wait a minute,” Volke said as he stepped forward.  “How do Atty and Zaxis know about the last two steps? How would anyone know that? I asked around town—no one knew what those steps said!”

“Atty and Zaxis attended my lectures,” Tyms said.

“So, you’re the only one who knows of those missing steps? Then of course I couldn’t—”

“If you were serious about proving yourself worthy, you would’ve found the time, and coin, to attend, wouldn’t you? Excuses are not becoming of an arcanist, young man. Clearly you have a long way to go.”

Tyms tossed the edge of his robes to the side in a dramatic swirl as he turned on his heel and walked back across the stage.

“Don’t get dramatic,” I growled under my breath to Volke. I probably shouldn’t have offered him any advice, but I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes I just… acted on whatever thought came into my head.

Volke obviously didn’t hear me. He was too lost to his anger—that wouldn’t impress a phoenix.

“It’s not fair,” Volke said. “I did everything I could on my own. Ask me any other question—about the island, about magic, about mystical creatures—I can still prove myself!”

Tyms glared. “If you’re this upset, perhaps you aren’t mature enough to participate in the competition. Go home, boy.”

“What about the lesson on the sixth step? Tenacity. Without it, we fail at life’s most important tasks. I refuse to quit.”

He refused to quit?

A part of me admired that about Volke. Here he was, even though everyone didn’t want him here. It seemed odd—it pained me, really—that Tyms would chase him away with dirty tactics. Couldn’t we just beat him the old-fashioned way? I was better than Volke. I could do this. All I needed was a few more taunts, and Volke would crumple.

What was I saying? I shook my head. Just a few minutes ago I wanted him gone from the competition.

“Fine,” Tyms spat. “I didn’t want to embarrass you, but you’ve left me no choice.”

I held my breath, curious.

“You will never become an arcanist,” Tyms said. “It doesn’t matter how many stairs you stare at, or how fast you can pluck a fruit from a tree branch, or how much of Ruma’s history you know. You’re the son of two criminals. Both your mother and your father were blackhearts. Fiends!”

Silence.

Dead, awkward, silence.

It was the type of quiet that infected everyone with nervous and uncomfortable jitters.

“I’m not a criminal,” Volke said in a small voice.

“Everyone knows it runs in the blood,” Tyms said matter-of-factly. “Do you want proof? Look at how you conducted yourself today. No respect for the traditions of the island. No respect for your schoolmaster or your peers. All of your actions are evidence of your true nature. Do we want your flippant attitudes infesting our phoenixes and giving all of Ruma a bad name?”

The citizens of Ruma voiced loud opinions. Boos added to the mix, becoming a cacophony of disgust all aimed in Volke’s direction. Even the phoenixes huffed and held a quiet conversation between themselves, no longer giving Volke any of their attention.

Atty glanced over at me, and I frowned. What did she want me to do? Wasn’t this for the better? But maybe this had gone too far…

“Your worthless mother was a thief who abandoned her family,” Tyms continued. “And your heinous father a murderer.” He threw a hand up into the air. “After they were sentenced, no one would take you but the gravekeeper, and even now you run wild through the streets, doing whatever you please!”

Volke scooted to the edge of the stage. His expression… I couldn’t look at it too long. I turned away and glared at the wood planks under my feet.

“I…” Volke’s voice shook. “But I want to be a noble arcanist. Someone righteous and—”

“If that’s what you wanted, you should have done the right thing,” Tyms interjected. “You should have done your duty to the island and stayed with the gravekeeper. Actions speak louder than words, boy! And your words about being noble are a terrible lie, trying to conceal who you really are.”

People in the crowd threw stones. Stones!

I backed away, almost hit by a few that were tossed haphazardly. Again, even though I didn’t want Volke here, this seemed extreme. Atty held her hands together, her brow furrowed. She was too afraid of disappointing her mother to do anything. She wouldn’t act out. I already knew.

Volke jumped down from the stage, and the citizens of Ruma parted, creating a path, their boos filling the town square. With his head down, Volke ran from the stage.

My chest hurt for some reason. Despite that, I stayed my ground. Now only Atty and I remained. As long as we didn’t offend the phoenixes, we would likely bond.

That was good news, right?

Schoolmaster Tyms waited a long moment, until Volke was out of sight. Then he glanced over at me and Atty. With a smile, he said, “Now we can continue with the ceremony, just as intended.”

The ocean winds washed over us, disturbing my white robes. For some reason, I wanted this over with right now. No more messing around. No more interruptions.

“A few final questions,” Tyms said. He returned his attention to Atty. “Can you recite the twenty-second step of the Pillar?”

She nodded, her own white robes swirling with the breeze. “Fortitude. Without it, we allow pain to dictate our lives.”

“Correct.”

The crowds tepidly clapped. The excitement had been drained by Volke’s departure, that much I knew for sure.

I readied myself for my question. When Tyms faced me, I smiled, determined to lift the spirits of the island folks.

“What is the twenty-third step, Zaxis Ren?” he asked.

“Humor,” I replied, loud and clear. “Without it, we live in a darker world.”

That got more cheers and smiles. The people of Ruma seemed to like the happier statements of the Pillar. I knew I did. This was supposed to be a time of celebration, not doom and gloom. We had to enjoy ourselves.

Tyms turned around and faced the phoenixes with open arms. “And there you have it! I told you my students were the best. They answered every question without hesitation.”

The boy and girl phoenix whispered things between each other. I waited, smiling and confident, just like Tyms had said. When the phoenixes returned their attention to the stage, I smoothed my red hair. A stray strand poked me in the eye when the wind returned, but I tried not to dwell on that.

“I’ll test Atty Trixibelle,” the girl phoenix said.

The boy phoenix nodded once, his heron-like head rather beautiful. “I’ll test Zaxis Ren.”

I smiled as I stepped forward and held up my arm. The phoenixes flew from their perches and glided over to me and Atty. The girl phoenix landed on Atty’s forearm, and the boy phoenix landed on mine. He wasn’t that heavy, but his talons stung a bit, even through the thick sleeves of my robes.

Young phoenixes were only the size of a small cat, and their inner body was mostly flame, which meant they were lightweight. I wanted to pet the phoenix, but I kept my other arm to my side.

“Next is the test of tranquility,” Tyms announced to the crowd. “Atty and Zaxis will take their phoenixes to the meditation caves, and when they return, they will either be arcanists, or they will have failed the final test.” He offered Atty and I one more reassuring smile.

I nodded and headed for the edge of the stage. The people of Ruma cheered. Some threw colorful petals that wafted on the breeze. My younger brother, Lyell, was closest to the stage. He didn’t cheer, really. He had a half-hearted clap as I walked by.

Jealous.

Of course he was. I’d be jealous of me, too.

I stepped off the stage and headed for the Ruma “caves.” They weren’t really anything special. They were tiny holes in a couple large rocks. People called them caves because it was more dramatic than calling them sideways divots.

Normally, this part of the phoenix’s Trial of Worth was supposed to be a surprise, but Tyms had already told Atty and I all about what would happen. We would take our phoenixes into the cave, and then—to prove our tranquility—the phoenixes would evoke fire all around us, pretending they might attack. The “test” was to remain calm, even among all the heat.

That was why this part of the test was meant to remain hidden. The phoenixes never really hurt the participants. Staying calm wouldn’t mean much if everyone knew it was all a show.

Atty and her phoenix said nothing as we walked out of the town square. We strode through the shadow of the tall Pillar, and then around to the backside. My phoenix stared at me with golden eyes, his head tilting back and forth.

“What’s your name?” I asked, trying to remain confident and self-assured.

“Forsythe,” the phoenix replied. “That was the name my mother gave me when I hatched.”

“It’s a good name,” I said. “Forsythe.” It rolled off the tongue well.

The phoenix blinked. “You think so? I didn’t have much to compare to.” When he chuckled, it was cute and regal. “Zaxis is a good name, too.”

I didn’t know why, but that pumped me up.

My name was amazing.

We arrived at the caves after a few more minutes of walking. The caves were right outside of town, on the northern edge of the island. There were five in total, but they shallow—only ten feet inside, and narrow, like a zigzag hallway.

Atty and her phoenix went into the first one. The flame of her phoenix kept the inside alight. I walked to the next and slipped inside. Five feet in, and the narrow walkway opened up a bit to allow for some breathing room. If I raised both my arms, I could probably touch both sides of the cave, but I didn’t bother trying.

Forsythe leapt off my arm and landed on the stone. Then he stared up at me, his golden eyes still amazing to stare at.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

I replied with a nod.

Then he spread his wings. “You must show me your tranquility.” He puffed up his little bird chest. “I will attempt to burn you. Like a mighty phoenix, you must suffer the damage of fire and then rise from the ashes.”

“All right,” I said.

Forsythe, slightly deflated, asked, “You’re not scared? Of the burning, I mean.”

“I’m tranquil,” I quipped. “I can handle it. Let’s just get this over with.”

Tyms had said I wouldn’t get burned, and I figured he was right.

The moment seemed awkward, but eventually Forsythe puffed himself up again and then flapped his scarlet wings. He was small, so it took him a little while to get his flames going. “This might hurt,” he said. “You better not run out of the cave!”

“I won’t,” I said.

“O-Okay! No more warnings.”

“I’m fine.”

Forsythe created a wave of flames that washed through the tiny cave. The fire ran up the walls and swirled around me, some of the heat licking at my boots and burning the tips of my hair, but nothing bad. Sure, it was hot, but the majesty of the embers kept me entertained. The sides of the cave were black and smooth, and I suspected this had been down dozens of times.

The air became thin, and I held my breath.

Forsythe continued flapping, creating more and more fire that never really touched me. My white robes became grayish with soot and smoke—and also stained with my sweat—but otherwise, nothing else happened.

Finally, Forsythe stopped. He took in deep breaths, panting as he tucked his wings close to his sides. “Oh, my,” he said between breaths. “You never even moved… You really must be calm at heart.”

“I thought you were going to burn me like a phoenix so I could rise from the ashes?” I sarcastically asked.

Forsythe shook his head. “No. I’m sorry I lied to you.” He sat on the ground and drooped his head. “I just wanted to see if you’d panic.”

“I’m the determined type,” I said, patting my chest. “I wouldn’t run out of here if a volcano was erupting.”

“Well, then, you’ve passed my Trial of Worth.” Forsythe glanced up at me, hopeful and excited. “I guess that means you’ll become my arcanist.” I walked over to him, and he stood back on his peacock-like legs. “I never expected you to handle this last test so… Well, not like you.”

“What does that mean?” I said as I knelt next to him.

“You were so angry when that other boy entered the Trial of Wroth. You lost yourself to rage.” Forsythe flapped his wings once. “Why do you hate him so much?”

The cave smelled of burnt hair and charcoal. I rested on one knee, my leg hurting from my weight, but I didn’t get up.

“I don’t hate Volke,” I finally said. “I just didn’t want to lose.” After a short moment mulling over the statement, I added, “My father always said, you’re only as good as the thing that stops you. I’m way better than Volke. I can’t let him stop me here, ya know?”

Forsythe nodded. “I see.” Then he hopped forward so that there were only a few inches between us. “Well, then, for being so calm in the face of overwhelming fire, we shall bond!”

I held out my hand, but when Forsythe tried to touch it, I jerked away.

Was I better than Volke? The thought haunted me. I had only beaten this Trial of Worth because Tyms had given me the solution ahead of time. What if… What if I hadn’t known how it would end? What if… What if I had failed on my own?

I’d never know now.

Forsythe stared at me. “Is something wrong, Zaxis?”

Honesty. Without it, we cannot learn the truth about ourselves.

I’d never know if I was truly worthy of a phoenix.

After a long sigh, I forced myself to stand. My knee hurt so bad.

“There’s something I have to say.” Although it pained me to admit this, I didn’t want to doubt myself in the future. “I knew what this test was going to be ahead of time. That’s why I didn’t flinch when you threw the flames around.”

That must’ve surprised Forsythe because his feathers puffed, revealing slivers of fire from his inner body. “Truly?”

“Yeah. The schoolmaster told me everything.”

Forsythe shook himself. Soot piled up around his talons. “I see.”

“You can test me some other way,” I said. “I’m ready for whatever you have to offer, I just… I couldn’t go through with it this way.”

Perhaps I had messed up my one and only chance. If I had, what would I do with myself? I didn’t know. I’d have to… rethink my whole life.

That was fine. This wouldn’t stop me either. I was better than this. I could do it.

Forsythe never stopped watching me. When I lifted an eyebrow, he responded with yet another tilt of his head. Did he want me to say something? I wasn’t certain.

“I still want to bond with you,” Forsythe said.

All my dread and anxiety left me all out once. “You do?” I asked, hopeful.

“Mm-hm. I thought you might be too angry, when I first saw you. But I see now that’s mostly just passion. It’s uh, hard to describe, but… Passion is the fuel of tranquility.” He lifted his scarlet wings, like he was trying to show me a picture—a picture in his mind’s eye. “People mistakenly think that tranquility is the same as apathy, but that’s not right! Passion is what drives someone to master themselves! It’s… It’s beautiful, if you can control it.”

“Passion?” I asked, a little confused.

“Yes!” Forsythe squeaked like only a baby bird could. “You just have to work on controlling it, and you’ll become an excellent phoenix arcanist.”

I knelt again, more excited than I had been my entire life. “Fine. Let’s do it. We’re going to go places, Forsythe.”

He held out his wing, and I grazed the heated tips with my fingers…

***

That had been so long ago…

Well, not really. Just a few years. Most master arcanists take at least seven years of training before they learn everything there is to know about their eldrin, and that’s only if they’re focusing. It could take someone much longer to learn all their magics if they weren’t applying themselves.

Still…

The memories of Forsythe…

Now we stood at the edge of a ruined Thronehold, away from everyone else because we were both infected with the arcane plague. This wasn’t my first time, but that didn’t reassure me. Forsythe had never been infected before.

Technically, King Odion and his twilight dragon, Hasdrubal, were also infected, but I didn’t care for that guy.

Forsythe stood by my legs, embers and soot fluttering off him when the wind rushed by. The clouds were black—like they were dressing up for our funeral—and I couldn’t shake the dread that lingered on my thoughts.

Forsythe was too big to perch on my forearm. I missed those days. He was practically the size of a turkey now, his scarlet feathers as brilliant as the day we met.

“Don’t worry,” Forsythe said to me, his voice quiet, but distinct enough that the wind couldn’t carry it away.

“I’m worried,” I said, almost sarcastically. “We don’t have much time to fix this.”

“You’re only as good as the thing that stops you, right? Well, I’m better than the arcane plague.”

I glanced over and met the gaze of his golden eyes.

“You mean that?” I asked with a half-smile.

My phoenix nodded. “Real phoenixes rise from the ashes of adversity. You’ll see. As long as we’re together, we’ll be fine.”

I really appreciated that from Forsythe.

He was… a better companion than I think I deserved.

I knelt down and patted his head, the heat of his body a reminder that we had gone through so much together. No matter what happened, that fact would never change.