Alia didn’t know quite what to say, which was unusual for her. Descending twenty five stories underground on a platform right out of some fanciful work of fiction was incredible enough but, what Sharan had revealed went way beyond incredible.

The small antechamber they had first entered through opened up quite suddenly into an enormous cavern. The end of which stretched beyond the considerable light of the glowing illumination rods. It was at least a hundred meters wide and, staring into the darkness beyond, Jim could only guess at how long. What rendered him (and Alia) speechless was the contents of the chamber, however.

Lined in dozens of rows, fighters, stretching deep into the darkness of the chambers sat, waiting for pilots. In the areas of the cavern that were lit, Federation military personnel moved about their appointed tasks. Their normally blue Kepis were magenta in the deep red light. Many were loading ammunition while others performed various preflight tests on the craft.

It was an enormous underground air force and it was preparing for an air battle as Ruin had never seen before.

Nearest to them, a single, fighter stood out against the others. It floated, much like a landship, suspended a meter above the ground. Jim walked up to it. A light humming announced, the fighter had a power source. Yet, he didn’t see any yellow light. Its shape was vastly different than any fighter he’d seen before, resembling a giant raven.

This fighter in particular was larger than the others. Upon its wings, thousands of feathers rested, shimmering with the same unusual sheen as the fuselage. He ran his hands across the surface. The feathers felt organic, alive. Alia quickly joined him in studying the unusual craft. Where a cockpit window should have been, two semi spherical tinted glasses met in the middle, giving the bird like nose oversized but intimidating looking eyes.

“We call her ‘The Phoenix,’” Sharan noted, proudly. She’s the only one of her kind. Built by my great great great...well, many greats ago grandfather.” He smiled at Alia and added, “She was built for you, actually.”

Alia turned from her examination and asked, “For me? What are you talking about?”

Sharan walked over and patted the large craft. It bobbed slightly and responded with a low level hum as it quickly compensated. “Hundreds of years ago, during the last crusade, the Federation and Alliance had awakened warriors of their own. This was before the Prophetess was as powerful as she is now. When she began her invasion of our lands, we threw everything we had against her.”

He motioned to the enormous cavern, “It was in those early days that this place was discovered. It exits over twenty kilometers northeast of the city, out of what was once a black crystal mine. The mine was long since stripped of course but, some of those within the government saw this place’s usefulness as a storage facility for certain assets we would rather the Prophetess didn’t know about.”

He sighed and continued, “Concerning the Prophetess, as you know, her army of awakened warriors devastated the Alliance and within a year, pushed the Federation back to the gates of Hurria. It was in the last days of the war that my great great g..you know what, let’s just call him my really really great grandfather. It was in the final days that he completed his invention.”

Sharan took a step away from the craft and frowned, adding, “It was too late by the time she was ready. So few awakened warriors remained among us and the last of our defenses had fallen. He was forced to move the craft into this underground cavern in the hopes awakened would one day walk our streets and fight for the Federation. We’ve kept it here since.”

Alia asked, confused, “But, what does being awakened have to do with any of this?”

Sharan chuckled and replied, “This isn’t an ordinary fighter. Notice if you will, it has no weapons. Now, draw your attention to the design. No insectoid wings. These are modelled from the raven. An ugly bird really but, a survivor. It’s a slow, ugly, and unwieldy compared to these other craft you see here.”

Jim commented, “Has anyone ever told you, you aren’t a very good salesman.”

“Ahh but, you haven’t asked me about the color,” Sharan replied. “Look closely at it. Look how it seems to absorb light around it. Notice the unique shine. Have you seen such a thing anywhere else?”

Jim stared at the fighter. He’d hardly seen any fighter in his lifetime and wasn’t exactly qualified to answer. But, something looked oddly familiar in the coloring. Then, it clicked. “Black crystal!” he exclaimed. Sharan smiled and nodded. “But,” Jim Continued, “How? This much black would cost -”

“A fortune,” Sharan interrupted. “Yes. In my case, a family fortune and centuries of secret work continued from generation to generation. The Federation was more than happy to funnel small amounts of money to fund this secret airforce but, this beauty? This is all self funded.”

He rapped on the fuselage with one hand. Instead of the usual metallic clang, virtually no sound reverberated out. He explained, “The outer shell is a composite of steel and black crystal. That’s why it floats above the ground as you can see. It’s like one giant pushstone. The feathers were hand crafted, one at a time, from the fibers of cave mushrooms, grown deep in the very crystal mines that are now barren and form the exit of this cavern. The mushrooms take decades to fully grow but their fibers are saturated with black crystal during the lengthy process. The last of them died a generation ago but, by then, we’d farmed enough for one aircraft.”

He sighed and added, “I and many before me devoted our lives and fortunes to build this thing. Since the conclusion of the last crusade, a few trusted individuals built this air force in complete secrecy, for five generations. We hoped to one day use it in a final crushing offensive against the Prophetess. It seems, we weren’t the only ones constructing a secret air force though. The Prophetess brings into this war, hundreds of airships, thousands of fighters, and millions of soldiers. I’d say we are doomed but, The Phoenix...she could change all that.”

Alia shook her head and asked, “What’s so special about this fighter? Aside from being an oversized, unarmed, flying fortune, what use is it to us?”

Sharan stepped up to the cockpit and pulled the release lever. The tinted glass lifted slowly, revealing a single seat inside and a black crystal joystick. Sharan coughed. A layer of dust fell on his face as he replied, “No, my dear captain. She is quite well armed. If you would step inside, I can demonstrate.”

Alia didn’t have to be told twice. Despite being weaponless, the ship was beautiful. She was eager to see how it handled. Jim made his best attempt at gentlemanliness and offered her his hand but, she had already levered herself against the craft’s wing, quickly hoisting herself into the cockpit. The inside smelled of dust and stale air.

Sharan pointed to the joystick and instructed her, “Place your hands on the flight stick.” She did so and he nodded, “Good. You see, captain, during the war, my really really great grandfather discovered, when mixed properly and shaped into a perfect sphere, black crystal has awakened properties. In fact, it can work as an attunement chamber. You may notice, the cockpit glass forms two perfect half spheres.”

Alia and Jim both stared at Sharan. Jim asked first, “An attunement chamber?”

Sharan nodded, “Indeed. Of course, I’ve never actually seen it work. What with all awakened under Prophetess control but, Alia here is free of her grasp. And a prime no less. I’m eager to see The Phoenix rise. Now, I would like for you to close your eyes and focus you awakened powers into the craft.”

“Wait wait wait,” Jim interrupted. “You don’t even know if it works? What’s to say, if she tries to focus her power or whatever, this thing won’t explode?”

Sharan shook his head, “No no no. It wouldn’t. My great great...whatever grandfather, he knew what he was doing is what I’m trying to say. If you will just trust me, I -”

“I hardly know you. Of course I don’t -”

Alia rolled her eyes as the men continued to argue. She’d told Jim before but, it seemed, he needed to be reminded. “I’m no damsel,” she whispered as she shut the cockpit, closed her eyes, and focused her awakened fire.

Suddenly, the chamber was filled with blinding light. Jim and Sharan were knocked backwards as the fighter came to life. Jim shielded his eyes to see what was happening but, the light...the fire, was too bright. The Phonenix had arisen.

***

Jim strolled along the shore of Green Lake. It was more inland sea than actual lake. The broken moon illuminated the surface with endless points of sparkling light. Small sail craft floated upon its life giving waters, their ivory sails, reflecting brightly, distorted on the water’s surface. Having lived on a landship much of his adult life, seeing sailing ships in their natural element still seemed so...strange.

He wandered over to one of the benches that dotted the small path, not far from the inn. In a nearby room, Alia lay, sleeping off her earlier awakened experience in the Phoenix. Jim couldn’t rest though. In the morning, he would leave to the northern front. Alia had decided to stay behind and assist the Federation military in preparing their secret air force for operation.

It set Jim on edge knowing he wouldn’t be nearby to help her if something went wrong. “I’m not helpless, Jim,” she’d insisted. A heated argument quickly became a bitter one. Words were said and both were hurt. Eventually, she gave up and stormed out of the room. He’d be sleeping alone this night.

Tiny waves broke against the muddy shore. Waterborne creatures chirped and croaked as the moon continued upwards, illuminating the gentle lake. Jim closed his eyes.

“Enjoy this, Jim. Life has so few beautiful moments for those such as ourselves.”

Jim jumped up, startled. He recognized the voice! Turning, he saw him. The same old man that had invaded his dreams weeks before in the deep desert. The man sat next to where Jim had just been, watching the same shoreline. He could have sworn the man appeared older than the last time they’d met. His eyes though… His eyes were as young and vibrant as before.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Jim asked.

The man smiled. Yellow crooked teeth shone in the light of the moon. “Perhaps, you’re just jumpy. You should really calm down, take in the beauty of this wonderful moment. You’re safe here, for now.”

Jim returned to the bench and sat beside the old man. As he watched the ships crawl slowly across the horizon, he replied, “You know. I can think of a hundred better things to dream about than some strange old man giving me life advice.”

The man shrugged, “I only come when you need me. It seems, you need me now.”

Jim chortled, “What I need is a miracle if I’m going to survive what’s coming. Got any miracles on you?”

“Sorry. Fresh out,” the old man replied. They both laughed. The man continued, “But, I do have a warning.”

Jim crossed his arms and replied, “Well, I can’t seem to will you away so, go for it.”

“She is coming for you, Jim. She is coming and, there’s very little you or anyone can do to stop her. The world stands at a great crossroads. One day soon, you alone will be forced to make a decision. That decision will send mankind down one of two paths. Redemption or destruction.”

“And what decision is that?" Jim asked. What a strange dream.

The man shook his head and replied, “To answer that could result in disaster. I can only say, look to the woman. The one called Alia. Within her is a power you and she do not yet know. This power is the key to the Prophetess’ downfall. Nurture it.”

Jim sighed and replied, “And what power is that? She’s a prime of fire. What else could she be?”

The man groaned as he stood from the bench. Shrugging, he replied, “I wouldn’t be a very good mysterious old man if I gave you all the answers, now would I?” At that, he removed his cloak and tossed it on the bench behind him. “You know,” he added as he stretched, “I haven’t gone swimming since I was a young man. I can’t pass an opportunity like this up.” Before Jim could stop him, the old man hobbled into the cool water and began to swim away from the shore.

Jim called after him, “A man of your age really shouldn’t -”

Suddenly, he was awake. He could hear the sounds of birds and the gentle lapping of water on the shore. He tried to open his eyes but was rewarded with blinding sunlight that had found a break in the curtains of his empty room. Stumbling to the window, he pulled them open. It was morning.

What a waste of a good dream, he mused. Yawning, he watched the scene from his Inn room window. Boats continued their journeys across Green Lake. They were as beautiful in the daytime as they were at night. Next to the lakes edge, birds picked at the grass, occasionally withdrawing a worm and flying off in triumph.

What caught his eye though was not the pleasant morning view. It was the park bench. The same he’d sat on in his dream. The same bench the old man had shared with him. Upon the bench lay a cloak...a very real, very familiar cloak.