Little Phoenix
XII

I laid down on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, the memory of what happened after Vesper was killed flashed in my head.

- Flashback -

My vision was tinted red with anger. I was unhinged as my strength seemed to increase tenfold. I escaped the two arms that were restraining me, slapping the Banshee with my wings. I heard a snap as I lifted my heel off the ground, launching myself forward towards the Banshee that had killed Vesper. I unsheathed my katana and sliced it through the air.

Blood splattered onto my face, causing my grin to widen. My grip on my katana tightened as I spun around on my heel. My wings slammed into the body of the Banshee I would have had to face had they not. The Banshee went flying back into the tree, killed on impact as the tree snapped and fell to the ground.

The next one I faced was a Prosopoeia. She had control over the weather. Lightning shot from the sky and I dodged it quite easily as I flew towards her. As soon as she was within arms length, I tore off her head. Blood splattered onto me and I spun around, dropping her head. I flew across the field to Alizar, tearing off the head of the human she was fighting.

Alizar gasps in shock as blood sprays upwards, soaking my clothes and her face. I flew away from her, flying over to my military group general, who was fighting two Banshees and a Prosopoeia with control over the earth. I reached him, tearing off the two Banshee heads as he killed the Prosopoeia.

Blood soaked both of us and when he turned to tell me thank you, he stiffened. I gave him a curt nod which he returned before I flew away. A Prosopoeia charges at me, her skin glowing. Her right eye is glowing bright orange-red while her left eye is glowing bright blue. Electricity is running up and down her left arm as her right hand sets itself on fire.

I flew at her, spinning around in the air. My wings came into contact with her skin, my wings being shocked. Her head went flying off, blood splattering on me. I flew around the battlefield, killing each and every Banshee and Prosopoeia I came across. I landed on the ground, passing out once all the enemies were killed.

- Flashback Ends -

I gasped, my hand flying to cover my mouth at the gory memory. That’s what happened? No wonder I was soaked in blood and nearly everybody was lookin’ at me in fear. I forced myself to stand up from my bed, walking to my bathroom. I stood in front of my mirror, hands clutching the counter as I stared at myself.

Compared to the last time I had looked at myself before the war, I had changed a lot. I was a mess. I looked tired, and worn down. My face looked weirdly dull and the bags under my eyes were easy to see. The paleness of my skin has increased—due to the lacking amount of time I’ve been spending in the sun lately.

My ash blonde hair meticulously cascaded down my shoulders and back, past its original butt-length. No blemishes dotted my pale cheeks but freckles did. My freckles were barely visible as they scarcely dotted my cheeks. My eyeliner was barely smudged outwards at the corners of my eyes, and my mascara had tinted the underside of my eyes black.

The bags underneath my eyes were easy to see. With the mix of the black tint from my blood and my mascara, I looked dead. I could easily see the scars that cover my revealed torso. Around my right rib cage, I have a scar from a knife that horizontally curves around my rib cage. My wings stuck up and I’m no longer proud of them.

They looked like they had shrunk from their original size from before the war, but they hadn’t—I was just slouching. I no longer dyed my feathers red, the colour reminding me too much of the blood that had been spilt during the war. For the first time in many years, every single one of my feathers were their natural colour.

On the right side of my collarbone and my right shoulder, I still have those small dot scars from Maewyn’s claws digging into my skin. I felt like I needed to scream, needed to just let out my emotions, but I was unable too. I have changed so much and it’s scary how much I have changed. I sighed and I looked up, looking at my eyes.

But the thing that has changed the most were my eyes. Instead of my fire-like eyes, my eyes looked like a dull orange. They weren’t lifeless, devouring any and all life that tried to enter them. They were numb.

It was scary.

The differences between my eyes when I’m full of life, when I’m dull, and when I’m numb. When I’m happy, my eyes look like honey. When I’m angry, my eyes look like a wildfire. When I’m sad, my eyes look like crunched up leaves. When I’m dull, my eyes look dead. But when I’m numb…when I’m dull, my eyes look like they’re just orange.

I was born with cognac eyes, eyes that act like amber armour. They shield anyone’s views that try to peek through my mask. I have fire in my stomach, lightning in my veins and thunder in my heart. I have a gun for a mouth—always shooting retorts to protect myself. I hold my rage like a sword, willing to hurt anyone who provokes me.

But right now…my eyes aren’t a shield nor are they that wildfire colour. They were just…orange. My eyes were a mirror, mirroring what I felt on the inside through a cognac stained mirror.

I let out a quiet sigh, dropping my head and staring at the pristine white sink. I barely lifted my head and I quietly exited the bathroom. I walked over to my balcony, opening the balcony doors. I walked through the doors, closing them behind me. The sun is setting in the distance and I just watch, everything silent.

Blue fades into purple and purple fades into dark pink. Dark pink fades into orange and the colour of the sky reflects over the land. Stars in the sky and the moon is looking over the house from its spot in the sky. I whisper one sentence before closing my eyes.

“I would do anything to forget everything.”

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