No more warmth comes from Nova’s nostrils. No breath of life. No fire heats her breast and no movement moves her chest.

“Not her. Please, don’t take her,” I whisper, worn, broken, and weary beyond words.

A shadow of warmth lifts my face from Nova's cold feather. For without a whisper of sound, I feel something beside me. A warmth which almost wiggles into my soul and seeps beneath the wariness to replace it with peace.

I blink in surprise. What I see makes no sense. It's a... bird? But it is not what one would call a bird in a typical sense. The creature comes to my nose where I crouch beside Nova's head. It fluffs golden feathers with hints of sky blue around its breast and fire red around the edges of its wings and tails. The tail almost seems to dissipate into ashes before my eyes but somehow never enough for it to lose feathers.

It turns its head, and its eye is milky and white with a scar from chin to forehead.

I trace a scar along my own eyebrow that just about took my sight. It bows its head to me, but I know deep in my chest that it is not the one who should be bowing.

It exudes a majesty that one would have to be blind to miss. No, even the blind could see this. Could feel the pressure of the majestic soul that would bring elves to their knees. This creature does not belong to this world.

And standing before it… I feel awe. I feel overwhelmed with my dirtiness before this clean and spotless being... both mental and physical. I am not who the Phoenix should come to. He should go to those in castles, those who have their lives together. Those who are worthy.

I’m already on my knees, so I put my face to the ground before him.

Something featherlight brushes against my hair, and when I look up, the bird flaps his wings and releases a cry I could not describe even should I wish to. And yet, I find I do not. It is a sacred sound that resonates with my soul… a sound with which I will hold close and would feel irreverent to speak of.

I do not call the clean and whole, my son. The broken and weary come to me, and I give them strength. The dirty come to me, and I wash them. The messes and the aching souls are who I want... for I will show them true joy and give them the desires of their hearts.

He turns his head, looking at me with the other eye that is whole.

And within those depths, I see something twinkling and merry, as if he is laughing about a joke only he knows.

And a warmth. A warmth of such depth that it would take all the words in all the worlds to describe the breadth of love in that eye. There is pain, yes, but the love outshines the pain and somehow I would say was because of the pain.

He leans his forehead to mine, breathing a sigh that I take through my lungs and return. In that moment, I feel not the pain of loss, the tides of sorrow, nor the pressures of this world’s problems. I feel loved. I feel seen. I feel known. Once again he came to help me heal from the sorrows and pain of life and death, brought me joy and peace and showed me the true meaning of living in the midst of the hardest trials.

How many more times will I need this? I ask, all at once beseeching and hopeful with joy threading throughout my soul. The joy of one who knows and has confidence in whose he is and where he is going.

As many times as it takes, my son.

I feel those words deep in my soul. He hasn’t promised that my life will be free of trouble. But he has promised to be with me and grant me the joy of the suffering… as many times as it takes to ease me through the pain of this life.

Thank you, I whisper through the soul-deep warmth soothing the jagged edges of my heart, soul, and mind.

The sorrow recedes, replaced with something tender and precious. The pain surging through my mind and body and the ache in my chest is replaced by his peace.

Can you grant this to Barry and Jed? I ask, thinking of how they are going through this same grief as I. The same anger and fear and hopelessness. The same as all who lose one they love. Can you grant this to all who grieve?

A pause. Not all Gifts can be accepted. But Gifts can be given to all. Their journey is their own, and so is their healing. One cannot bring peace until surrender, one cannot bring joy until forgiveness, and one cannot bring love until the heart is softened. But I will do for them what I have done for you.

And what is that?

A smile like the warmth of the sun casting her gentle light onto my face falls on me. I promise to be with them. Always. The last word fades into a gentle sigh on the wind.

I return the smile, but it drops from my face when I see the scar now spreads further up his head and over the soft golden plumage by a good inch, the last inch jagged and dripping with blood as if cut. The blood is the golden of his feathers and oozes between folds of skin until I can see his skull. Every time he heals me… he pays for it?

The Phoenix pulls back and hops to Nova, who is still and has grown cold. Sorrow invades the peace and I bow my head as I accept that once more I have failed a beloved friend.

She is dead, Sir. No longer do I feel her flame and her beautiful kindness within her harried soul. She is gone, and our Bond with it.

The Phoenix turns his head, a grin in his good eye even as it glistens as if with unseen tears. No. She is merely sleeping. Do you believe?

I have never heard of something coming back from the dead except this otherworldly Phoenix before me… and yet, sitting here in this presence… I believe. Help my unbelief.

I have, child. Live in peace.

The Phoenix turns to Nova and lays his head on her nostril, breathing a sigh into the stillness. Much as he did me.

And something shivers in the air, something mighty and brilliant, soft and gentle, and beautiful and terrifying all at once.

I shiver to my very core, shaken by the aura of what is taking place beyond what my eyes can perceive. But I know souls of this world are not meant to feel nor witness such a thing. This is beyond me. This is beyond my world. This is beyond any world and instead borders the realm of the Unknown.

As the Phoenix breathes, his tail feathers turn brittle, then grey, after which they flutter into the wind. The blackness spreads, reaching first his wings and then continuing to his feet and breast.

With one final breath, his head dissolves into ash as his bad eye meets mine... and somehow I sense more than see his wink.

Something deep within me gives way, as if I’d lost something precious.

But I know he hasn’t and won’t leave me.

Not now. Not ever.

Minutes or hours later, Nova remains still. No breath comes from her nostrils and no movement comes from her still and cold body. I know I need to go. Those above me have hailed me as their king. They need a guide, someone to stand with in the aftermath of the battle and the beginning of the war.

But I cannot bring myself to leave her. Not yet.

Child of Fire.

Nova sinks into herself as the voice seeps into every inch of her soul.

Child, you’ve nothing to fear of me, it says, sending peace and images of flying on high and taming winds. Purpose and freedom. Two of the dragon’s most sought wants. You have a choice, Daughter of Flame. You can ride the skies of Sixth in peace and wonder, experiencing adventures and acceptance beyond your wildest dreams.

Nova felt her heart buoy with the need to experience such wonders and unknown joy. Oh, to be part of a clan again! But… she wondered what would become of her world. Her clan. And her two-legs who was sometimes a human and sometimes a wolf.

Sadness came from the Voice. He would continue on, Daughter. I have him. There is no need for you to fight any longer. You may rest.

But sadness welled in her soul. He had been alone. He had been betrayed and just lost a person who was dear to him. The wolf threw himself into tasks that went beyond what he could handle so others may not feel the pain he had. But… who would look out for him?

Do you want this? Do you wish to be his companion? You will lose parts of yourself, Daughter. You will no longer be of the flame clan. They will never accept you should you return. No flame-bearer will accept you again.

Something inside her quaked in both horror and excitement. Her flame burst into a frenzy.

She felt sorrow that no dragon would ever see her the same again. She knew what the Great Father meant. No longer would she fit into the dragon’s world. She would be... other. An abomination in the eye of sky-tamers.

But... she wanted this deep in her soul, but not only because of him. She had just found her strength. She had just realized her clan was not among sky-tamers. Not any longer. Her clan was with two-legged people and creatures who she longed to protect and uphold for as long as she was able. Her clan was her children who had just become freed from the fear of their childhood. They deserved to have one parent who loved them relentlessly and the support of those who wished to see them fly, unchained and in utter freedom.

She would come back, not only for her wolf, but for the worlds. For dreams she had once thought dead. But it seemed she had only looked for those dreams in the wrong places.

Her place was with her clan. And she would not abandon them now.

And for the first time in her existence, she took what she had seen and heard from the many two legs and sculpted two words in her mind.

Yes, Father.