Page 4 of The Phoenix Inheritance

Isobel

Travelers who pass by the Solenz lake don’t stop. They think it’s a land fit for the dead. The soil is grey and chalky like ash, and the few trees that emerge through the cracks look more like fossils than live beings. Some even think the creek is cursed.

But that’s not true. The slippery and squirming creatures in my hands are proof that there is life on the Solenz. There are these fish, who dwell in parts of the waters that are less salty than others. There are some shrimp, whose phosphorescent and slightly translucent bodies belie an incredibly sturdy constitution. Sometimes there are birds, who sweep by to prey on the lake’s inhabitants.

And then, well, there’s me.

I dump today’s haul in a bucket and pick up my cast net. Years of living here taught me that the high concentration of salt in the Solenz makes fibers brittle, if the mesh isn’t immediately stretched and put to dry. So as I’ve done hundreds of times, I begin the task of hooking the many angles of my net to surrounding trees.

Some sound that I’m not used to hearing in this part of the world causes me to look up at the skies. My eyes widen. Is that a bird? It’s bigger than I’ve ever seen! Most creatures here are lean, brittle things, acclimated to an existence feeding only on the bare minimum. There isn’t much place in Solenz for the magnificent and colorful animals that prowl the rest of the Kingdom.

How many meals would a large fowl like that yield? It looks like it could fit at least ten of the chickens I used to eat in my youth.

Except as the figure grows clearer, I come to see that the being soaring through the blue won’t fill my dinner table. A set of arms and legs become more distinct, until I can make out an unmistakably human form.

For a fraction of a second, the wild thought courses through my mind that I’m watching an angel. Because in my nineteen years on Earth – granted, five of which were spent in near isolation in this deserted part of Sowilo – I’ve never seen a human so finely formed.

My gaze first settles on the glaringly obvious: he’s half-naked, and the half that isn’t covered is glorious in all its chiseled perfection. This angel has the kind of chest my friends Garrison or other guys from the Hunters would kill for.

A streak of radiant copper also catches my eye. His hair blazes in the sun like a flash of fire in the blue sky, and to put it short, he looks superb.

That is, until I catch the movements of his arms and legs. Frantic, and not graceful in the least.

My heart plunges. This isn’t an angel flitting ethereally through the heavens – this a man made of flesh and bone, and he’s about to crash to the ground!

Blind panic suddenly surges through me, yet it doesn’t take me long to run to the last tree and hook my fishing net so it’s stretched taut. Just in time for the redhead to dive into my makeshift safety net. Not without ricocheting back into the air a few times. I wince with each bounce, painfully aware of the agony he must be enduring.

Finally the net settles, and I can see this man who dropped from the sky once and for all. My breath catches. He truly does look like a fallen angel, I think to myself wistfully.

He’s at an age between man and boy, with the strength of a grown male but the loveliness of one much younger. His thick lashes rest limply on top of his high cheekbones. His lips, full with a hint of firmness, are parted lifelessly.

Inside my chest, something breaks. Is he dead? I want to cry. Cry from the horror of witnessing something so dreadful, but also cry for a soul that left much, much too early.

Yet I see something that infuses hope into me once more. The gap between his thick auburn brows creases. The corners of his mouth twitch until they form a feeble but distinctive grimace.

I rush to his side and drop to my feet. Gently I cup his shoulder, which amply fills my hand. I note that he carries a long, silver sword on one hip, and am grateful that at least he didn’t fall on that side.

“Can you hear me?” I pant as clearly as I can muster. “I’m Isobel. It’s going to be alright. I know it hurts, but you have to stay with me.”

His answer comes in the form of an annoyed grunt. I smile despite myself, especially since my fingers detect the sturdy pulse on his throat.

“You sure are a grumpy one,” I tease as intense relief washes through me. “I never thought I would be so happy to see someone scowl at me.”

He brusquely rolls away. Not exactly friendly, but the energy with which he flees soothes my frazzled nerves. I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding. He’s alive. He’s going to be fine.

And that makes me angry.

I rise to my full height – somewhere between the fourth and the fifth step of my ladder, the last time I measured. So not too impressive, but so be it.

“What in the world were you falling down the cliffs for?” I bark as my fury soars. “Do you realize you could’ve broken your neck, or even worse,” the words catch in my throat, but I force them out all the same, “died? What happened? Did you slip? You have to be careful where you put your feet! Yes, even a strapping, sturdy fellow like you! All that brawn won’t do a thing when you crash to the ground, your bones will shatter all the same, your skull will –”

As I list all the tragedies that the man narrowly escaped while he sneers in silent irritation, an awful doubt enters my thoughts.

What if he jumped on purpose?

I gasp and let my gaze wander once more over his robust, vigorous body. So full of energy, while mine is gaunt and feeble, slowly but surely withering away…

“No! You couldn’t have – right? You can’t! You’re so young and strong, there’s still so much you can do in the world! How dare you throw away the life you were given, how –”

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