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–

"The phoenix gem," Samari whispered. She had built up to this moment for a good long while, the reveal of the most important thing in a story. 

She had found it. Now, what to do with it. 

History books it was. Putting back all but that one book, she went to scavenge around old records for any mention of a terrible drought where the river dried up. 

The answers never came. Disappointed, she went back to the inn with only a short summary of the story and a rough drawing of the carvings found with it. The moon was high in the sky when she laid in her bed, the only noise in the whole town coming from beneath her. 

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Sleep did not agree with her. She dreamed of two images that sent chills down her bones: Shadow Knight and Viper. Chasing after Shadow Knight, Viper followed her close behind. Shadow Knight turned around to block her path, swallowing her with darkness as Viper showed his fangs and lunged–

Her eyes shot open in alarm. The tightness clenching her chest was relieved as she gasped down air. Her fingers scraped at her neck, and memory of the hand that had squeezed the life out of her made her breathing unsteady.

Calm down. Viper is not here. He can't get to you here, and you are not worth the effort. That's what every villain in every book says, so it must be true. Right?

She was still shaky when she changed into fresh clothes. Looking into the mirror, for the first time, she saw the mark that Viper had left on her flesh. The red of her palms that had been burned by the ice dust, and her blistered arms from the fire. Proof that she was still alive. 

Moving on with her routine, she checked her purse to count how much money she had left. As she poured the coins into her hand, the key from the shop clunked onto the pile. Now she was glad she kept it, for looking at it helped her calm down. Her breathing steadied as she watched it disappear in the light. With a smile, she slipped it back in the purse and finished counting.

Wrapping her scarf around her neck to hide her throat, she headed down to the tavern for breakfast. It was quiet in the morning, only the bartender and a few people there to enjoy their morning meal before heading off for the day. She sat at the bar as she did last night, smiling at the wiry man. 

"Wha'll i' be 'his morning, missy?" He asked, brightening a bit when he saw her. 

"That depends on what...you recommend," Samari replied.

"Hm, for you, 'he eggs over hashed po'a'oes with beef sausages and 'oas'. We have fresh cow milk as well, jus' came in a few minu'ues ago." 

Her taste buds tingled at the sound of it. "I'll take th—that, please," she requested. 

As she waited, she went over the myth in her head again. The night had not cleared her mind to new possibilities, so she was still stuck. Laying her head on the counter, she banged it repeatedly against the wood, but was silent to not disturb the other people present. 

There was the hurrying of feet coming down the stairs, but she paid no mind. From the sound of it, it was two men who came and joined the man at the bar sitting a bit of the way down from her. 

"I got no sleep last night. They didn't close up the tavern until an hour before dawn!" one said. 

"Lance over here had no problem at all. He is like an old man, needing to go to bed so early," the second teased. 

They continued laughing and mocking each other as a plate was placed before her. Samari paid the man and started chowing down, drinking the sweet taste of fresh milk. 

"I'll have what she's having," a third voice from the group said. 

A bit curious, she glanced over at the three young men. They couldn't be much older than she was, yet hardened from hard work. The one who had spoken, Lance, made her heart thump. He was a stunning man with a soft face to adorn his sharp ruby eyes. His black hair fell gently over his features, silky and shiny in the morning light. He was the kind of man that girls would pay to just stare at for hours. 

Why is he so attractive? I didn't know men could look this good!

He did not seem to notice her staring at him, for he was mindlessly sketching on rough paper. Her eye caught a glimpse the drawing and she bounced back from her daze.

It was a king and a queen standing together, drawn in beautiful detail that must have taken hours. It was the crown on the king's head that had caught her eye. 

The gem was sleek and thin, pointed like a dagger, but the way it was drawn made it look like it was on fire. After staring at it, she realized that it was the exact same design as the carving of the phoenix gem in the book. It could very well be a coincidence, but it was still a good idea to try.

"Um, excuse me, sir," she asked gently. He looked from his art to her. "Might I ask...who that is...that you're dr–drawing?" 

He smiled at her, sending her heart pounding again. "This is King Daniel Locktess and Queen Misa Locktess," he answered her.

Oh, how had she not recognized them before? Everyone knew the story of Daniel and Misa, the tragedy that was known only as the Plague. It was actually just a bit before she was brought to her village that the entire Locktess family had been murdered, and the culprits were never found. 

"His crown is...different from the one o–of previous kings," she noted.

"I'm impressed you noticed. This wasn't his actual crown. He had it specially made in the second year of his reign. You see this gem right in the center? It's from a legend of a phoenix who died to save a village, but he turned his body into a gem of fire so he could always be with his friend who raised him."

Yes, victory is mine! It doesn't narrow it down by much, but this info is still progress.

"That's...so cool! Daniel must've really...loved that story to have a–a crown specially made just...for it," she said, sounding surprised.

"It is said that he loved phoenixes because they would always protect the ones near them. It reminded him of the Chalde temples that would give refuge to all who came to it during the final war," he explained further. 

Of course! The Chalde temples; once strongholds of warlords that had been captured by Thoran and turned into safe houses. She could easily find out which ones still stood. They would make a great hideout for a secret organization. 

"Thank you s–so much, sir!" She cried, her excitement sending her flying out the door. 

She rushed back to the archive as fast as her legs would take her. As she searched again for answers, she knew that her journey had only just begun.