Page 1 of Bound By Destiny

Prologue

One hundred years ago

“Dane? I haven’t seen you in what… Three centuries?”

“Pity we didn’t make it to four,” I mutter to the vaguely familiar man as I plop myself down on a chair.

My brother Warwick nudges me in the ribs. “Try to be civilized,” he admonishes under his breath. “We’re surrounded by the only creatures that can actually kill us.”

Phoenixes. We’re the one species on Earth that’s closest to immortality – our fatal flaw is the poison from our own talons. Personally, I think that’s good enough a reason to stay the hell away from our kind.

But Warwick insisted we join today’s gathering. Something about not being able to stand me as sole company for another quarter of a millennium. Don’t ask me why.

The clatter of chairs resounds as a dozen people take their seats. Most faces I recognize, though some are more distant than others. Even back when supernatural beings roamed, I already kept to myself. Not Warwick. There wasn’t a mythical Kingdom where my brother didn’t have a friend, and judging by the warmth with which members greet him, he made a lasting impression.

“It’s an honor to finally have you all around one table,” a voice announces, deep yet laced with emotion. “I thought I’d never locate these two recluses.”

Attention shifts to my brother and me. I growl at Aleixo Pyrrhos, the mastermind behind this whole damned event, but Warwick lifts an apologetic hand.

“It was bloody out there for a couple hundred of years,” he explains. “We figured we were safer laying low.”

True, that was a reason. Last time I saw Sowilo, the Kingdom where we were born so long ago, it was swallowed by flames.

But there’s more to our centuries of isolation. Something that still twists my guts at the mere thought. One decade to step out of my own house. Twenty, maybe thirty years to so much as smile again…

Aleixo nods somberly. “You were right. The Hunters were barbarous in their attacks. There used to be so many of us.”

There’s a grim murmur of agreement. I stay quiet. I can’t share their grief – I’m too busy mourning one person for eternity.

And yet I know better than anyone how the extermination of phoenixes, merpeople, gorgons and so many other preternatural species started. It wasmyuncle who first delivered the sword sheathed in poison to the Hunters, a group of rebellious mortals who killed my father, the King. My mother too.

“Sowilo was only the first of many to fall,” Aleixo remarks, “Little by little the Hunters infiltrated all the surrounding Kingdoms, and fueled rivalries in courts before sweeping in and wiping away both parties.”

“I guess the only ones of us left are the outcasts,” a woman I think is named Yelena says ruefully. “The unmated ones, the ones who left their Kingdoms in the first place.”

“But that doesn’t mean we need to stay alone forever,” Aleixo points out vehemently. “Not anymore. Hunters eradicated us to such a point that humans of today believe we’re little more than myths. The time for us has come to stand together again. And that, my friends, is the purpose of the Phoenix Guild of Reinsertion and Resurrection!”

Some punch their fists in their air, others clap. A deep sense of unease runs through me, because I feel none of their enthusiasm. Though in theory I can always re-emerge from my cinders, it’s like something within me was perpetually burned to ashes. The part of me that could connect with others, that could feel excitement or irritation or curiosity – anything but this numb indifference to all but my own pain.

I clear my throat and begin to rise. A sharp sting in my foot prevents me from escaping altogether. Unsavory words escape my lips as I swivel towards my brother in indignation.

“We’re already outcasts among humans,” Warwick murmurs for my ears only, undaunted. “Don’t make us outcasts among our own kind as well.”

My legs yield of their own accord and I let myself fall back to my seat. Just because I share an evolutionary quirk with these dozen people doesn’t mean I want anything to do with them. Power hungry, cruel, proud to the point of insanity… That’s how I knew phoenixes when they were in their prime. I fled before I became that way too.

But I owe Warwick. I’ll owe Warwick for a lifetime, or whatever that represents for immortal creatures like us. When I was just nineteen, I chose to leave my world behind – all for a few short years with a woman who could give me everything but eternity.

Nothing obligated my brother to come with us. And yet he did. Forsaking friends, the crowds that adored him, epic battles.

So yes, I suppose that the least I can do is stay at this ridiculous meetup, if that’s what he wants. Not that I have to put up with this ordeal gracefully. I let out an audible groan and scoot my chair until I’m hidden behind an imposing globe propped on the table.

“...though highly unlikely, nothing rules out the possibility of another phoenix emerging,” Aleixo is droning on. “And that’s where thereinsertionpart of our mission comes in. I want to make sure that in the case of such a lucky event, a proper structure exists to accompany the new phoenix, both in the acclimation of supernatural powers but also in terms of adaptation to human society.”

I tune out the rest of his speech and let my gaze wander – which can’t go much further than the map at the very tip of my nose.I travelled to so many of these countries, I think to myself as I make out the tiny portion of land that was once Sowilo. I trail south, towards the Dead Sea region where I spent the three happiest decades of my existence.

Then Isobel died.

My heart never really mended, yet each time I so much as think of her name, it tears open again. Not over the injustice of it all which I raged over for so long, nor out of bitterness for the woman who dared leave me behind forever. There isn’t one angle of my resentment I haven’t mulled over, not one person I haven’t blamed. Yet one thing always remains the same: I miss Isobel. Terribly.

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