Chapter 4: Astrid's POV
1521 Words
"You ready, birdie?" Lars smirked, or at least that was what he was trying to do.
He had this look on his face, like a maniac. His eyes were too wide and his lips too quirked. He didn't look pleasant at all. Lars was a handsome man, that much I could say, but right not he looked terrifying.
Or he would, if I gave a crap about him.
Of course, just like always, I didn't reply to him.
The cage door screeched open, and Lars loomed over me, his golden hair catching the torchlight like a halo around his cruel face.
"Ready for your big night, birdie?" he sneered, reaching in to grab my chains.
I let him.
I let his fingers brush my wrist, let him yank me forward like a dog on a leash. I even let myself stumble—just enough to make him laugh.
You see, the best thing you can do is play the weak damsel. People always underestimate your abilities, especially if you are a woman.
I am turning eighteen today, now that I think about it. Is that why they took so long? They were waiting for me to be of age so they could snatch the phoenix out?
The cellar stairs groaned under our weight as he dragged me up into the main house. The air smelled of herbs and blood; the ritual was already prepared.
My stomach turned, but I kept my face blank.
"You're being awfully quiet," Lars mused, tightening his grip. "No fire? No fight?" He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "Maybe you finally broke."
I said nothing.
The hallway opened into a grand chamber. This should be the main office, but right now, it looked like a ritual room. Candles flickered in a perfect circle around a stone altar. Symbols I didn't recognize had been carved into the floor, pulsing with dark energy.
And standing at the center?
The person who killed my parents.
They always cover their face with a hood, so I haven't been able to tell who exactly is under it.
The hooded figure turned slowly, its presence making the very air tremble.
I would never forget their power; they had killed my family, and I could recognize their runes from a mile away.
My fingers twitched, and I could feel the phoenix stirring up inside me.
"I brought you the phoenix," Lars said to everyone in the room.
Just at that moment, I realized there were more people around.
In addition to Elias and the hooded person, Adrineh's dad was here, too, along with the principal and two more men. I had no idea who they were.
There were six people in total, fewer than I had anticipated.
Five faces stared back at me in the flickering candlelight. Six betrayers. Six dead men stood before me.
Lars's grip on my chains tightened as he dragged me inside the room. As soon as my feet touched the runes, I felt the magic crackling.
Elias stepped forward, holding a dagger that glinted with the same cursed runes as my shackles. "Tonight, we correct the mistakes of the past," he declared, his voice too loud in the silent room. "The phoenix was never meant to belong to your bloodline."
The hooded figure remained still, but I felt their gaze.
Adrineh's father—Councilman Veyra—cleared his throat. "Let's not waste time. The alignment won't last forever."
Alignment?
Of course. The stars. My eighteenth birthday. They'd waited for this specific night to perform their ritual.
Lars leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. "Any last words, firebird?"
I tilted my head, meeting his manic gaze. "Just one."
A beat of silence.
Then—
"Oops."
The shackles on my wrists melted.
Lars barely had time to blink before I moved—one hand snapping to his throat, the other slamming into his chest. Fire erupted from my palm, searing through his shirt, his skin, his ribs—
He screamed, but it was too late.
The fire of the phoenix is enough to destroy metal; a mere human being was nothing for me.
Lars's body dissolved, like I had poured lava all over him. It didn't take long before the room erupted into chaos. Elias lunged with the dagger, but I was already spinning, flames whipping around me like a cyclone. The blade shattered midair, the runes dissolving into smoke.
Councilman Veyra stumbled back, his face ashen. "She was never bound! The runes—"
"Were never strong enough," I finished, advancing on him. The phoenix screamed through my veins, wild and furious. "You took my parents. You tortured me for three years." Fire licked up my arms, my hair lifting in the scorching wind. "Now it's your turn."
The hooded figure moved faster than should have been possible.
Their hand closed around my wrist.
And for the first time—
The fire stuttered.
I gasped, pain lancing up my arm as their grip burned cold, like ice and death and nothingness.
The hood tilted.
And then—
They laughed.
I was frozen in my spot, he... he was my father.
"F-father?!" I asked in disbelief.
The hood fell back, revealing a face I knew better than my own.
My father's eyes—but not his eyes—stared back at me. The same strong jaw, the same dark hair... but the smile was all wrong. Twisted. Hungry.
"Hello, little phoenix," the thing wearing my father's face crooned. His voice was my father's too, but layered with something else—something ancient and cruel.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
The room spun around me.
No.
No, no, no—
This wasn't possible.
I'd seen the blood. The destruction. My parents were dead.
A cold finger traced my cheek. "You look just like your mother when you're frightened," the thing murmured. "She screamed so prettily at the end."
W-w-what?
This can't be true, no. It can't be true. My father loved my mother; he always dotted her, made sure we had everything. He was a good man, one who helped others.
The phoenix inside me shrieked.
I couldn't hold it anymore. It hurt too much.
The deception, the pain.
I had all these memories. I remembered when my father held me close and took me to watch the butterflies with my mother, or how he would help me bake my birthday cake.
How was that a lie?
How long had it been a lie?
I... I...
For years, I managed to keep my emotions at bay. Sometimes it was hard because of the bullying, but still, I was always able to keep the spirit in check.
My mother made sure I understood its destructive power, meaning I could never—and I mean never—lose control.
But now... now that I found out my whole life was a lie... I couldn't hold it any longer.
My control shattered like glass, the phoenix bursting free in a cataclysmic wave of heat and light. The last thing I saw was my father's smirk twisting into shock as the flames consumed everything—the altar, the runes, him.
I let out everything I had bottled up inside me, and in exchange, the flames grew bigger.
I was like a volcano, ready to destroy everything surrounding me.
I let out a cry of pain and felt how the flames spread everywhere. Nobody in this village would survive, not even if I wanted to.
Once I was done, once I felt the fire had finally gotten what it wanted, I fell to my knees.
Then the pain hit.
No, the flames couldn't hurt me, I couldn't get burned. I was the fire; it was something else, something my mother warned me about.
My soul was fracturing.
No.
Not like this.
I reached for the phoenix, but it was too late. The flames turned against me, eating through my essence like acid.
I'm dying.
The realization should have terrified me. But as the darkness crept in, all I felt was... relief.
At least I'd taken them with me.
I'll make sure they are dragged to hell with me, and at least... it was finally over.
My vision blurred. The fire dimmed.
The phoenix had finally eaten me alive. That was the problem with such an immense power; if you didn't control it, it would consume you.
Either way, I got what I wanted.
I got my revenge.
Everything was peaceful; I couldn't hear anything, meaning everyone was dead.
I closed my eyes, ready to let darkness consume me.
And then—
Voices.
Three of them, whispering just beyond the edge of hearing.
I couldn't recognize who they were.
"...too soon..."
"...she's not ready..."
"...we have no choice..."
I tried to open my eyes to see who they were. I wasn't sure if I was surrounded by friends or foes, but I didn't have the strength anymore. I was on the brink of death, my body couldn't do what I wanted anymore.
Hmm, they couldn't let me die in peace.
The last spark of the phoenix flickered.
And then—
Nothing.
- Writer
