Page 47 of Red Queen

With a final cry that shakes leaves from the trees, the beast collapses.

“Thank you, Ivan,” I say, my voice laced with gratitude.

He sheathes his blade and bends at the waist. “Yes, my Queen. In your honor.”

“Thank you, Alexandru.” I look at him. “Your bravery will not be forgotten.”

Alexandru merely nods, his chest heaving with exertion. Blood splatters tarnish his once-pristine armor. A good state for an armor of a general, I suppose. Ivan stands beside him, equally marred by the confrontation. Their weariness is evident in the slump of their shoulders and the slow rise and fall of their chests.

They mount their horses and I look away, hiding the flicker of concern that threatens to crack my facade. Our alliance is born of necessity, not of choice, and yet I respect these warriors who fight alongside me. My heart beats with a savage pride, for we are kindred spirits carved from the same stone of honor and power.

The tension recedes, leaving only the cold sting of the night air. We press on through the dense fog of the forest. The moon carves a path for us, its silvery light guiding us until we reach an ethereal clearing where magic hangs heavy like a tangible veil.

From my vantage point, nestled within the embrace of the forest’s shadow, I find the phoenix perched on its ancient throne of gnarled wood. It’s as if the very essence of the sunset has been captured, its fleeting beauty made eternal in the bird’s breathtaking plumage. The riot of colors—reds bleedinginto oranges, both lit with the last whispers of gold—cast an otherworldly glow.

“Stay back,” I whisper to Nadia and Ivan.

The chalice in my pack is small, but I fetch it, holding it tight.

Alexandru and I dismount. Our approach is cautious, reverent, as if the very earth beneath our feet demands our humility.

“Great Phoenix. We come seeking your tears of renewal, a gift only you can bestow,” I say, my hands trembling as I hold out the silver chalice with a reverence.

The creature’s gaze meets mine, a fathomless well of ancient wisdom that seems to see into the marrow of my soul. I stand unwavering under its scrutiny, the cruel queen of the Sagori, unyielding and fierce even in supplication.

“Will you grant us this honor? One teardrop, please,” I ask. Despite the rapid drumming of my heart, I manage to keep my voice steady.

The phoenix regards me intensely, its eyes a kaleidoscope of fiery hues. Then, with a benevolence that silences the world, it dips its head, and from the corner of its eye, a single tear—a droplet of liquid flame—falls into the chalice I hold.

“Thank you,” I breathe out.

Without anything more, not even a shift of a feather it tells us to leave, and I nod, glance at Alexandru and we cross the clearing.

Something compels me to stop and look back at the ancient phoenix. It stares at us and beyond to where the other two are. And my breath strangles in my throat.

I glance at Alexandru. Our eyes catch and hold, thrilling but electric. “Our first quest has come to a close.” I hold the chalice with reverence.

There’s a glint in his gaze that mirrors the triumph and wild exhilaration surging through my veins. The shared victorytightens something between us, a bond forged in this crucible, stronger than before.

“Let’s not dawdle,” Alexandru murmurs as we turn to where Nadia and Ivan wait with our horses.

I mount my horse with the chalice secure in my pack and sit tall in the saddle.

“Did anyone else feel like the phoenix was judging their life choices, or was that just me?” Ivan jokes dryly as he swings onto his steed.

“Surely it found you wanting, Ivan.” Nadia grins, guiding her horse alongside his.

“Ah, but I’m still here, so perhaps not as wanting as you would think,” Ivan counters, a rare glint of humor in his tone.

“Or perhaps it pities you,” I say, spurring my horse forward.

Alexandru laughs. “Eleanna, pity is not in Ivan’s vocabulary.”

“Neither is surrender,” Ivan adds.

“Nor in ours.” I look over at Alexandru.

His silver eyes meet mine, and I see the arrogance, the defiance, the same fire that burns in my veins. “Never.”

---