Letters Between People I Just Made Up (Phoenix)

Short Fiction

Mar 12

To my dearest Phoenix,

I know that you are well. But I hope it all the same. For the greatest comfort one can give is to raise you up upon my shoulders, when you have already climbed a mountain. I expect that you long to hear of how your dreams have come to pass. I was there when you burned with pride. I am there now as you set alight your passions.

I wish I could recount that we blazed across the sky; that we left a beautiful destruction behind us, all the witnesses laid ashen and teary. I wish the glory was as you so abruptly declared it. But it has been shaky to say the least.

The parade never went as planned. In fact, we’ve yet to set out. The elephants are wary of any who go near, though they still eat as well as they always have. Morale can never be guaranteed these days.

I have sent for the masters, but they have yet to respond. I even quoted you by name. I fear we are losing the formation. ‘Flickering’, one of the tanglers called it. She was chewing on an unlit cigar, as I recall. I offered her a matchbook and she just nodded with her eyes. ‘Yes’, she muttered. ‘Definitely flickering.’

I’m sure you won’t believe me. But I will repeat it for as long as necessary. Dusk has pitched their tent. Pitched it well. No matter how soft a soil we lay, they will remain Dusk. I think they’ve caught a chill and they’re raising it as their own. I saw a perch set outside their canopy. But Dusk was deaf to my questions. They tell me I dreamt it. That I should lay off the vitamins.

I might offer you happiness in our undimmed colour. Still much like a tiger flapping its wings. Still requiring milk for the common man. It’s just that we’re… less tall.

Some of the witches at the corner camp speak of songs bouncing off the northern peaks. They say the snow holds us accountable and we’ll not escape its charge. Naturally, I am sceptical. But I’ve heard similar tales from the cooks, coming back from their forage. They whisper to themselves that the fish will not cease their dancing. And then there’s Clementine, captain of the guard. She promises me, every day, that we’ll have victory during peacetime. She’s a squirrely old thing, that Clem.

I will not lie to you, Phoenix. If you were here with us, you would not know what to do. But you also wouldn’t care. You would just burn. That’s what you are for, isn’t it? That’s why you came bursting from that rotten chest. You just couldn’t help yourself. But your time has happened. And we will remember it fondly during the coming storms. We’re done being born. Now is a time for building.