Winged: A Novella (Of Two Girls) (14 page)

As her training continued, she grew
accustomed to the bland food served in the main dining hall and
even grew fond of the sweetness of the bean curds. Her water was
the cool fresh water from the Crystal Pool. Her irritation
disappeared and was replaced with calm. She soon slept well enough
on the rough hard bed. She could balance herself with the numerous
meditative poses.

Her dreams were of gentle repose, of a
phoenix perched and gazing contemplatively at the moons.

By the fourth month, the young woman walked
as quietly and as steadily as the rest of the acolytes, heads bowed
in silent contemplation. Her movements were gentle, unhurried. Her
phoenix flame was a soft candle fire inside, present yet not wild
and destructive.

By the fifth month, the abbess decided to
put the princess of the Phoenix Court to the test.

***

It was the Month of Dry Heat and the nunnery
was unbearably warm. Somewhere below the mountains, farmers were
preparing rice dumplings, steaming them in huge pots. As an gesture
of goodwill, the farmers would send up a basketful of dumplings to
the nunnery so that they too could partake of the summer
richness.

The young princess of the Phoenix Court ate
with the rest of the acolytes, a part of them now. They had the
dumplings as a special meal and she savored the delicious glutinous
rice, reminded somewhat of extravagant and even fanciful rice
dumplings at the Court.

It was after the rare treat when the abbess
summoned her to her inner sanctum. She padded softly into the room,
noticing that the abbess was standing beside the window, looking
concerned.

“I have a task for you,” the abbess’s voice
was deep now, with worry. “The spring waters seem to have run dry
and the Crystal Pool has not been fresh for a while now.” Indeed,
when the princess looked out of the window, the waterfall seemed to
have dwindled to a trickle and the Pool was still.

“I want you to go up to the mountains and
check if the springs are blocked.”

The young woman bowed respectfully and
accepted the imperative.

***

By the Heavens, it is hot!

The princess wiped perspiration off her face
as she attempted to climb the increasingly steep slope. She had
been harassed by a living mist of biting flies, her sleeves torn by
brambles and her footing confounded by treacherous rocks. For a
while, she had admired the breathtaking views, taking in the sights
and sounds of the mountain. There were trees, pine trees,
transplanted so long ago by her ancestors; they were heavy with
ripe cones. Birdsong filtered through the canopy and occasionally,
she heard the hunting cough of some mountain neo-lynx, no doubt
pursuing prey in the shadows. The flies beset her the moment she
began her ascent up the mountain slope. Her hands ended up grazing
the thorns of trailing brambles and red cuts criss-crossed her
skin. As she neared the springs or so she thought, she tripped
easily. Rocks came out from nowhere, blocking her feet. They were
already smarting with prolonged and unfamiliar use.

She grit her teeth and drew on her reserves.
She avoided her phoenix flame. It remained a steady and silent glow
inside her. Rocks scattered around her and she pulled herself,
using her upper body strength. She strained to hear the tell tale
sound of a spring. The sound of bubbling or gurgling, perhaps.
None. It was silent.

With some effort, she finally reached the
top. Wearily, she took some time to catch her breath and to take in
her surroundings. This was where the springs were supposed to be,
flowing forth and down the mountain to splash into the
crystal-clear pool below. What she saw was hard earth, parched
beyond measure.

She searched the area for possible spring
sources, following her instincts. She came across a pile of huge
rocks. There was a hint of water seeping forth from the earth near
the rocks. She touched it to confirm it. It was soft with mud and
as she pressed into it, water quickly filled the indentation. Cool,
clear water. She pawed at the mud and more water flowed out; she
dipped her hand in and quenched her thirst.

The young woman, the princess of the Phoenix
Court, drew up her sleeves then and lifted a rock with her bare
hands. It was infernally heavy. She carried it to one side and
moved onto the next. Her hands grew blistered, bruised. Her calves
hurt, unused to the strain. As she worked hard under the hot sun,
her frustrations, long thought banished, crept back. She tried to
push them away and erected more filters, mentals shields just as
the abbess had taught her.

Another rock. Her back grew sore and she was
in dire need of more refreshing water. The fire inside her grew
brighter. Shocked, she tried to calm herself down. She recalled the
fateful incident a few months when she damaged the nunnery. Her
frustration was fueling the phoenix fire.

Yet it was so tempting, like a beautiful
fire ready to be used, at her command. It was part of her and right
now, as she sloughed through the rocks, it demanded to be let free
again.
No more fetters
, it seemed to whisper.
No more
boundaries. Free me. I can blast the rocks away and unblock the
spring.

Images of her mother, flame-bright and
majestic, came into her mind. She was the scion of a long line of
phoenix-blooded folk. It was her birthright to be phoenix, to claim
that energy, that power.

Her fingers began to glow, giving forth tiny
balls of golden light at the tips. Dessicated earth turned liquid.
She could feel her hair crackle.

Free me/you. I can remove the rocks. I can
unblock the spring.

“You are part of me, phoenix flame,” she
argued fiercely. “I am not going to let you control me.”

The golden light flowed up her arms, humming
down her body in an intensely pleasurable flood of sensations.
Oh heavens, she wanted it so much!

With cold determination, the princess
circled the phoenix flame with barriers of ice. She welcomed the
cool gentle touch of the meditation, firmly pushing the flame away.
The phoenix flame flashed once, twice – and then it was hushed, its
ferocious light dimmed. For a moment.

She trembled, from the adrenaline rush. Her
head bent in humility, she continued removing the rocks. She had to
help her abbess and the nunnery. They needed the fresh running
water more than her.

***

From the bottom of the cliff, the abbess
kept watch, her cotton hood covering her head, looking as if she
was deep in a meditative trance. She tried to feel a sense of
optimism. As the afternoon grew into evening, she saw that the
water was still not flowing. The cliff was dry. The Crystal Pool
was smooth as a mirror.

She feared that the test had come to
naught.

She remembered another young woman, in
another lifetime. Edgy and flushed with her newfound abilities,
standing before her, the abbess of Ermei. Same slender figure, high
cheekbones, aristocratic and haughty, made more so by the arrogance
of youth and the privilege of imperial royalty and bloodlines. Like
mother, like daughter? Had the training not worked? How was she
going to explain to her former pupil that
her
daughter had
failed?
“Please help me to curb or reduce her nei huo, Reverend
Mother. Your faithful student in gratitude.”
The words in the
letter held so much hope.

The sound of water dripping broke the
silence. The abbess frowned to herself and stared hard. A thin but
constant stream of water was making a series of concentric circles
on the otherwise even surface of the Crystal Pool. As she watched,
her heart gradually beating faster, the stream grew strong, more
vigorous.

With a rumbling roar, torrential water
poured down, foaming into the pool. The abbess lifted her face up
to feel the cool mist. In the light of the setting sun, tiny
rainbow arcs formed in the spray.

She smiled. Somewhere, somehow, a young
woman had curbed the flame.

When the Empress of the Phoenix Court,
matriarchal ruler of the Alliance Planets, gave birth to her first
daughter, the royal midwives took blood samples from the
blood-covered newborn and ran routine tests. The princess was
healthy, immensely so – and she carried the gene that would turn
human to phoenix. The midwives brought the good news to the resting
Empress who, tired after an exhausting labor, simply nodded and
drowsed, the little princess in the crook of her right arm.

The gene carried the phoenix flame, the
vital spark triggering the fantastic transformation from human to a
mythological bird created from fire. No one knew how the gene came
about, only that it was passed down from mother to daughter, from a
matrilineal bloodline stretching way back to Old Terra. What people
knew was that certain women could shape-shift into glorious birds
of light and energy, and the gene could jump generations.

Stories and myths grew around this genetic
gift, an almost magical aura surrounding the Phoenix Court which,
in itself, was purely Imperial and political in nature, run by
women and female relatives. These lordly women sent their starships
across the galaxies, founding and strengthening the Alliance
Planets, a conglomeration of planets and colonies formed after the
Dispersal from Old Terra, with inter-marriages and pacts. As they
spread their influence like large cosmic wings, so did the myths
and legends of phoenixes.

The newborn princess, scion of an ancient
bloodline, did not know all of these yet. Her life was filled with
sweet milk from her mother’s breasts and warm comfortable blankets,
with caring and vigilant nannies who kept an eye on her all the
time. Yet, subtle hints of her phoenix flame were there: tiny
dancing flames, like those of lit candles, floated above her tiny
slumbering form. The nannies marveled at this. Perhaps, one day,
she would grow into a woman like her mother, the Empress.

***

“For the Heavens’ sake, could you please
wait
for me?”

The pony-tailed girl, wearing a thick beige
vest and trousers for it was Autumn, urged her mount forward. Her
attention was focused on the rider in front of her, cantering away
as if there was nary a care in the world. All she could hear was
teasing laughter and she bit her lip, frustrated. She kicked her
bay neo-equus lightly and it picked up speed, its ears back with
its own irritation.

Finally, she did manage to catch up with the
other rider who rode a chestnut neo-equus with clear Arabian
features and caffeine-dark mane. It snorted and pawed the earth,
eager to be off again, so much like its rider that the girl forgot
about her own annoyance and started laughing. It was so hard to get
angry with her cousin.

“You love to race, don’t you?” She raised
her voice so that the other rider could hear her. Where they were,
sound traveled, because it was a beautiful tract of Imperial land,
created specifically for neo-equus sports. Tall trees bordered the
tract, the green-yellow leaves rustling and some already cascading
down like golden rain. The sky was pale blue, the air crisp. It was
a lovely day, perfect for riding. Pretty soon, it would be cold and
life would be cloistered within Courtly walls.

Her cousin removed her helmet and shook her
hair. It was glossy and black, streaked with gold; it framed a face
with refined cheekbones and oblique brown eyes. Beneath the heavy
riding gear was a slender figure, hardened by constant
activity.

“So do you, Bei.” The girl answered lazily
and grinned, patting her chestnut neo-equus affectionately.

“You are impossible,” Bei said shaking her
head and removing her ponytail, letting her own hair fall about her
shoulders. They were away from any Courtly environment and were
pleased to take advantage of the freedom. The breeze stirred Bei’s
reddish-brown hair – she was a cousin from the maternal side of the
family, her father being a duke. Her mother was the Empress’s
younger sister. The red came from her father’s side which was more
Caucasoid in features and temperament. She herself had arrived from
her own home-planet of Solaris to visit her favorite cousin and
best friend, the princess Min Feng. They were about the same age
and shared most of their childhood together, while their mothers
were off either acting as magistrates or rulers of planets.

They allowed their steeds to munch the sweet
grass at leisure while they took in the sights and sounds. It was
wonderfully quiet here, filled only with birdsong and the
occasional sounds of smaller hunting predators like minx-cats or
aim-hawks. A small stream gurgled nearby, a soft susurrus of
water.

Min Feng adored this piece of land. It was
her only place of true solitude, without any interruption from her
Courtly life. She smiled to herself, raking her hair casually.
Perhaps, she had a bit of the Ermei mountains in her still, a faint
echo of training under the watchful eye of a strict abbess. She
envied Bei somewhat. Bei had the recessive gene – she would not
turn into a phoenix. Unlike her with the phoenix flame crackling
within her like live fire, now currently well disciplined with icy
control. Of course, none could compare to the pure joy of being a
phoenix and she knew that.