The Rokkoh Adventures

Rokkoh and the Old Woman, Chapter 11

The sun lowers and eventually hides beneath the horizon. The picturesque eponymous surroundings come to life as we draw near the end of our journey. With every mile, Nana's body becomes that much warmer. It does not become uncomfortable, but I do wonder why. I think to ask, but with how limited her speech has been thus far I do not expect a coherent answer.

We slow our horses to a stop. Max and I look on in puzzled wonder. Though the trees are not dense on either side of the road, their illumination grows dim as the dirt in the road fades to grass. We halt where the road ends; the trees close off the path.

"This is east, right?" Max asks to break the silence.

"Pretty damn sure directions didn't change in the last few hours," I joke with him. "Sun was behind us the whole time. That makes this east."

"Huh," he sounds.

Nana wriggles behind me and slips off of the horse. She lands on her feet and goes to Max's saddle bags. After digging through them, she pulls out the last folded pile of clothes from Aloysius's Posts. With a brimming look of victory in her eyes, she sets off ahead. Both Max and I call out to her, but she does not stop. She does not even falter in her steps, nor slow down. The two of us exchange a look of worry and dismount. We tie our horses' leads to tree trunks quickly and venture into the woods after Nana. Though she is tenacious, she is not a fast woman. We catch up in a few seconds.

"Nana, where are you going?" I ask.

"Home," she answers with a big smile.

"We must have taken a wrong turn," Max reasons. "We need to get back to the road. Come on, Nana."

"Home," she repeats, pointing a bony finger ahead.

The three of us walk through the waning light of the Everglow Wood for a long time. Soon, the leaves give off only a little bit of their magic, just enough to see in the encroaching blackness. Yet as we press on, Nana's gait quickens. It takes little effort on our part to keep up, but we remain a step behind so she can lead the way.

The trees thin out once more and reveal a new clearing. The moon shines brightest here, beating out what I can only assume is the edge of the Everglow Wood. Nana stops, and so do we. A figure stands in the center, its back turned to us. Its dirty white shirt is riddled with tears, but its trousers seem more whole. No hair remains on its head; the moonlight shines off the dome. It stands straight, but not tall. Closer to Nana's height. It holds its arms behind us, human hands clasped in each other. Unless some monster hides on its face, it appears to be a man.

"Elbert," Nana whispers. The man's head turns slightly. She repeats the word, or perhaps it truly is a name, this time louder and jubilant. The man turns around in full, revealing teary eyes and a large hooked nose.

"Stasia!" he cries.

The two break into a run, arms outstretched. They move fast despite their age, but my guess is that love strengthens their bodies for the extra effort. The lovebirds come together in a tight embrace, sobbing in pure elation over each other. A sweet reunion, without a doubt. It makes me think of Kym and how we too will soon be together again. The thought brings a wonderful, burning hope to my heart.

The two of them speak in the language of Nana's song, likely talking of their longing and undying love. The old man accepts Nana's gift of the suit. She blocks him from view as best as she can as she swiftly changes into it. Like with Nana's dress, it is superb. He flashes Max and me a huge smile, turning around in a circle to show off his new digs. We offer our approval, though he certainly does not need it.

"Should we duck out now?" Max asks in a hushed whisper as the couple continues to celebrate. "Are they even going to be okay out here?"

"No clue," I whisper back. "Let's get our money first, then we'll see if they need to be escorted anywhere. He might have horses waiting on the other side of the clearing."

As if on cue, their gaiety comes to an end. Though they smile as they caress each other's faces, there is a brimming sense of sadness, of solemnity. The culmination of Nana's homecoming ends with a sweet meeting at the lips. In the dim light, a new brightness sparks. The grass at their feet becomes orange. It traces a circle around the couple, and then moves inward. Flames catch on the ends of their clothes and trickle up until they are engulfed. They wrap their arms around each other, refusing to break the kiss. They look unbothered, unaffected, unaware.

Her nose. Her talon-like fingers. Her squawking outbursts. Her warmth. Her command of birds. Huh. And here I thought her kind had died out ages ago.

Max steps to rush forward, to douse the flames somehow. I take hold of his shoulder and pull him back. His eyebrows high and scrunched, fear and care bright in his eyes, he begs to be let go to help them.

"It's okay," I tell him. "Just watch."

Max eases back and stands at my side. The fire burns so bright that we have to shield our eyes from intensity. The cleansing sounds fill the air, along with the powerful heat. Both ebb with the passing time, and soon specks of ash float all about. The temperature cools, and the night goes quiet. The pyre dims. Standing atop a mound of ash, they peer down their great beaks upon us. Elbert's orange suit shines, fitting perfectly on his frame. Feathers of the same hue as his jacket and pants line the edges of his face and cover his whole head. Nana's dress is as bright as the moon and the same shade of white. Alabaster and blue feathers crown her in the same fashion as Elbert's. Rings of flame hover over their heads, little licks forming pointed ends all around the circumferences.

"Good boys," she smiles in a smooth and humble yet mighty voice.

The majestic avian lord and lady stretch out their arms to either side. From behind them, beautiful expanses of plumage spread. With a great gust from each, they lift off the earth. Their wings flap hard and fast and carry them upward into the night. They call out in their natural voices, announcing their return to all who can hear. A lone drop of wetness travels from my eye to my chin and departs for the dirt.

Slow, wondrous steps take Max and I to the burning spot. We both look heavenward for a long moment, postulating whether or not they will touch back down. The trees around us fade back to their normal luminescence, bright and beautiful.

"Is that it?" Max asks, eyes still on the sky.

"What do you mean?" I ask in return, also watching the stars.

"Was that the reward? Watching two old people catch on fire and turn into birds?"

"You sound almost offended," I chuckle, lowering my chin and looking at him with a small grin. "We just witnessed phoenixes regenerating. No one has seen that in forever."

"I was under the impression we were to receive monetary compensation, that's all," he argues, breaking away from the sky.

"Good thing we sold those swords, huh?" I nudge him.

"Yeah, I guess," he sighs.

Something below us glints in the light. Both sets of eyes cast down to the ash pile. Max crouches, his hand stretching out and brushing away some of the soot. Gold sparkles in the treelight, and from the warmth he uncovers large coins. On both sides, a large bird shows off its wings. With a lungful of air, a pile of coins reveal themselves. Max gathers them all in a handful.

"We'll have Kym get these appraised," he says in delight. "If phoenixes haven't been around for a while, I'm sure these will fetch a nice price."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," I clap him on the shoulder. "But first let's stop back at that tavern. I think we've earned a drink."

"Or ten," Max laughs.