Revival: Of Cethore ✔

Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Unforeseen Help

One thing that Samari was good at was research, as she had skills in piecing things together. To start off, she would figure out where the legend of phoenixes comes from and cross-reference it with places rich in gems.

Her fingers gently brushed the spines of the books, both new and old. It was both a new and familiar feeling, exploring something she knew as home. The sheer amount of books overwhelmed her, many times more than what came through the schoolhouse at her small home village.

Memories of that place were still fresh in her mind. Once her chores at the orphanage were finished, she would stay up late reading every book again and again until her candle burned out. She would ask the merchants who travel through if they had any books she could borrow. It was the only way she learned anything more than how to read and write.

Being in their presence, she could only imagine what stories they held! Things of the past, things that were learned, things that never happened; it captured her mind without a sound. 

Someone sitting at a table reading glared at her. The books gave no sound, but she surely had. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and stared at the titles, pretending she did nothing strange despite the red on her ears.

It was rather difficult to find books on phoenixes that were not children's books. There was but one: Firebirds: Myth or History. She grabbed that one and all the children's books as well. 

Time flew by as she read story after story on the birds. It was quite interesting. There was much variety in the myths, but they all had the same basis. Some showed them as cruel creatures, some as curious, others as loyal. In every story, it came back to the phoenix being selfless. 

One of the myths in particular sparked her interest even more. It was about a young boy who had found a phoenix egg and took it home. He cared for it and raised it, but the firebird never liked him. The bird would cause him trouble by setting his hair or clothes on fire, making him very hot during a hard day working, or crying out in a shrill voice for hours. Despite those actions, the boy still loved the bird.

One summer was especially bad. The river had dried up before the second moon-cycle, so the land was smitten with a terrible drought. The boy--who was almost a man--worked hard with his family to keep food on the tables, but the crops had all died. He set out on a journey upstream to find why the river had dried up, or to at least bring back food from hunting. Surprisingly, the bird followed him on his journey from afar, but he knew the creature was there, for he would talk to him from time to time. 

When they finally made it to fertile land, they saw that the river had been diverted. Large black rock completely blocked off the path for miles around. No matter how they tried, they could not get it to flow back down the first path. The boy refused to rest or eat until he found a way to bring back the water. The phoenix tried to get him to stop, but he would not. Seeing that it was useless, the phoenix began to pound at the black rock wall with him. 

After many days, the boy could go no more. He sat down and cried, defeated, but his faithful companion did not stop. The bird kept going again and again until his body was frail. He had lost all his feathers and his fire had gone out. Still, he kept on. In one last attempt, he used all of his energy to burst into flames, the first step of a phoenix's rejuvenation. The heat of his fire cracked the rock, causing water to seep out of the cracks. One more hit, and the wall was down. 

The boy smiled happily at the bird, holding him close, but it was a short-lived joy. The rushing wave swept them both away, yet they somehow held together. However, the water had put out the phoenix's flames, killing him. As the boy cried over his body, it dissolved to ash, yet, within the ashes in his hand, the boy found a shining gem the color of phoenix flames. He called it–