Page 3 of The Phoenix Inheritance

Dane

In all of Sowilo, there isn’t a place more desolate than the Solenz lake.

And no-one is better placed to observe this strange land in all its bleakness right now than me.

From the edge of the jagged cliffs that tower above the grey waters, I can see everything. The pale, flaky earth that’s inhospitable to most living things because of its high levels of iodine. Leafless trees the color of light charcoal. Even a whitewashed cottage on the lake’s shores. Who could possibly be so out of their mind to dwell in such a place?

Not that I care. My gaze lifts from the ground some two hundred feet below me to the skies. The endless azure is all that should matter to me, as a phoenix.

IfI’m a phoenix.

Because at a whopping nineteen years old, I still haven’t displayed a single sign since that odd incident ten years ago.

And that’s not normal.

My father is a phoenix. My mother is a phoenix. My brother became a phoenix a full five years ago, and he doesn’t hesitate to parade around our home, the fort of Østrom, like the fiery-tailed peacock that he is. Genetically speaking, I have about ninety-nine percent chances to become a phoenix myself. Uncle Thornsten keeps repeating that to me. As the Kingdom’s most valued healer, he should know.

Still. I can’t help but fret over that one percent chance that I’m not what everything in my life pushes me to be. Because if I’m not a phoenix, what in the world is the point of me, Dane, second Prince of Sowilo?

In our country, land doesn’t descend to the oldest son, but to the strongest one. For the entirety of my existence, I’ve been honed to one day fight my brother in an arena for the throne.

Vivid shame twists my guts at the mere idea that I may never challenge Warwick. Not that I want to cause him any harm, or be on the receiving end of one of those lethal claws. Rather, my entire sense of pride feels like it rests upon the notion that if the need arises, I can be my brother’s equal on the battlefield.

But if I’m just a regular mortal… Bile surges in my throat. Pathetic and weak, whose time on Earth lasts only the blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. Limited to a world where everything dies.

Nothing great can ever be achieved if you’re fated to such a pointless existence. Life can only ever be about survival, about escaping superior creatures, diseases and squabbling for food, instead of living in the fullest sense.

Living, as in sensing the energy in your veins, having the power you need to make your wishes come true, finding respect in the eyes of others who are strong like you.

I take a deep breath, strip off my shirt and spread my arms, letting the chilly breeze hit my bare skin. I’m tempted to take a small peek at the ground again, so instead I screw my eyes shut.

No, worrying about things like ‘how much will I hurt myself if I fall?’ is the kind of thoughts a weakling human would entertain. And I’m not a human. Or at least, I don’t want to be. A phoenix won’t fall. A phoenix soars.

The wait has lasted long enough. The boy will never be a phoenix. We might as well accept it and crown Warwick once and for all.

I wince as I replay my father’s harsh words at the breakfast table this morning. Uncle Thorsten – thank the heavens for Uncle Thorsten – managed to subdue his brother yet again, citing all sorts of cases where mythical offspring took longer than expected to manifest their natures.

But I know my time is counted. Father is growing impatient, and if my phoenix doesn’t make its much awaited appearance soon, then it will be too late. I’ll be condemned to be a... nothing.

I take a step forward until my toes graze the edge of the rocky precipice. Anxiety naturally rises within me as my mortal instincts are overcome with vertigo. I push that aside. Uncle Thorsten told me that if ever I find myself in a life-or-death situation, my supernatural nature will be forced out to save me.

I’ve decided to prompt that life-or-death situation myself. I bend my knees so they’re ready for the jump, and cross my fingers. Here’s to hoping my phoenix will rise to the occasion, I tell myself nervously.

If it doesn’t, I die. Flat to the ground from a leap I failed to take.

All the better. There’s no point in living if I’m not the mighty being I was meant to be.

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