Phoenix Feather

"Just remember," the wizard said, his fingers burning with a warm fire, "no matter how much the darkness may try, it cannot put out a light."

"But other things can," Teo said. His hands were smaller than his mentor's, and he cupped them together to receive the wizard's light.

His mentor smiled. The fire lit up his teeth and dark eyes. "But we can stop other things," he said. He lowered his hand, dropping the magical fire into his apprentice's palms. Teo gasped at the heat, then laughed.

"We cannot stop darkness," said his mentor, "but it cannot stop us."

Teo woke, a small flame before his eyes. He sat and reached for it, rubbing his eyelids as he did. Around him was darkness. It had been dark for three days now. Though how could you measure time by days when the sun had been blotted out?

Teo sighed. He picked up the flame, no candle attached to it, no wick or wax sustaining it. It stuck to his palm like a bur, flickering white. Teo sucked in his breath and grew still. The flame steadied. With a heavy sigh, the boy slowly stood, his eyes on the flame the whole time.

His toes curled. He had lost his shoes the day before, but didn't mind. Walking through the darkened world barefooted helped him know his surroundings. Now he stood on grass, tall but flattened by the dark.

Everything had been flattened by the dark. Trees had fallen, buildings collapsed, and even the stars seemed to have fallen from the sky. Nothing could be seen. Things could be heard and felt and smelled and tasted, but sight had vanished. Matches wouldn't light anymore. The new electric switches did nothing when flipped. The only light Teo had seen in the last three days was the flame he held close to himself now, which seemed so small in the blackness around him.

Teo swallowed. He looked up at the dark world. He was frightened by it. Terrified of it, even, but in his hands was a light.

He took a step.

Then another, and another after that.

To Teo's left, whispers broke through the darkness. The boy paused, his ears straining. He was so tempted to turn from his path and find whoever spoke. But he knew he couldn't. He had a task to complete, and he could not abandon it. Not even for a small, friendly conversation.

He turned his back on the voices, shielding his light from any eyes that might be open. Ever since the darkness, he couldn't rely on friendliness anyway. Stepping quietly, he continued, wiping at his eyes and trying hard to keep his tears silent.

The phoenix stared at Teo with deep eyes the color of coal. Her slender head tilted, and if it was possible for birds to smile, Teo felt sure she was smiling.

"Such a bright little wizard," she said, her voice like the crackle of a candle.

Standing beside the phoenix, the wizard grinned at his apprentice. "I brought him to you so he may learn," he said.

"Of course," said the phoenix. She raised her head and shuffled her wings. Flames leapt into the blue sky. "What lesson does he need instruction in?"

"He wishes to create his own flame," said the wizard.

The phoenix laughed, and if something can be dangerous and pleasant at the same time, this sound was. Teo's face heated, and not just because of the fiery bird before him.

"To create your own flame is the greatest magic in the world," said the phoenix, "and the most dangerous. Understand that, little one; a flame can change the world, and it is up to you whether that change is for good or evil. You must not create until you can control. Control this, and when you have kept it alive without letting it cause harm, come back to me. I will teach you what you need to know."

She reached behind her, grasping her tail feathers in her beak, and pulled one small feather free. It burned white in her back. Teo held out his hands for it, and saw as she lowered the feather into his palms that it was not a feather at all, but a small tongue of flame. It rested on his palm, upright and bright, and Teo smiled at its light.

"Keep it well," said the phoenix.

"Why are you crying?"

Teo sniffed. He froze. He didn't want to let anyone see his flame, frightened they might try to steal it from him, so he stayed silent and still, his hands a cage around it.

"Why are you crying?" the voice asked again. It was the voice of a girl, maybe Teo's own age, but sometimes it was hard to tell when all you know is a voice.

"I know you are, so don't try denying it," the voice said, sounding slightly annoyed. "It sounded rather pathetic, all choked up like you were trying not to let anyone know. Who would know? Why don't you let it out? You'll feel better if you do."

"I'm scared to," Teo said. His voice cracked. He hadn't used it in three days.

Whoever stood near him in the darkness giggled. "Why? What could happen that is worse than this darkness?"

Teo stayed silent. If he answered, he would let this girl know about his flame, and then what would she do?

The girl sighed, and grass and skirts rustled. "Alright, I can see you aren't the talkative type. That's fine. My name is Chrissa. Will you at least tell me yours?"

"I'm Teo," the boy said, eyes trained on the flame in his hands. It turned his fingers pink. "Are there others with you?"

"There used to be," Chrissa said, sorrow creeping into her voice. "We were walking - though who knows where, honestly - but I tripped and hit my head and I think I went to sleep for a minute or two. Sometimes its hard to know whether your eyes are open or shut." She fell silent. Teo stood thinking. Presently, she said gently, "Do you cry because you're alone, too?"

Teo shifted. The flame was burning a white hole through his eyes. He shut them, and the image of the fire still danced behind his eyelids.

"You can cry, I won't judge you," said Chrissa. "I had a good little cry when I woke up and realized I was alone, but when I stopped crying I heard you and realized I wasn't, which is a great comfort. So you may cry, if you like, even if you aren't alone anymore."

"Will you please leave me alone?" Teo said. "I want to be alone."

"I can't," said Chrissa, very matter-of-factly. "If I leave you alone, then I'll be alone. And I can't be alone. I think I would go insane."

"I'm going insane with you here," muttered Teo, but Chrissa did not hear him, which, Teo thought on further examination, was probably lucky.

He sighed. This girl didn't seem to be leaving any time soon, and he wasn't sure how long he could keep his flame a secret from her if she stayed.

"Can I trust you with something?" he said.

"With anything," said Chrissa.

Teo had no way of knowing if this was true or not without testing it, so he decided to test it. "I have a light," he whispered.

"What?" Chrissa breathed.

Sighing, mustering all his courage, Teo lowered his hand, exposing the white flame.

Chrissa gasped. She stood right in front of him, Teo could tell, because the toes of her boots were visible in the small circle of light his flame cast. The rest of her, however, was shrouded in the darkness. She did not go into the circle of light, and one foot retreated, as if she was afraid of it.

"How?" she whispered.

Teo shrugged. "My mentor said it is the last light in the world."

Chrissa's toes reentered the circle of dim light, along with her hand, outstretched and fingers splayed. Teo drew his flame away from them. The fingers curled into the palm.

"I don't wish to take it from you," she breathed. "That would be the cruelest deed of all. But... I haven't seen any light in... I don't know how long. May I see it? Just see it?"

Teo stared dubiously into the darkness where he knew Chrissa stood. He thought he could see the light reflected in her eyes, and maybe the tip of her nose, as well. "If this light goes out," he said, "the darkness wins."

"The darkness will never win," Chrissa said, steel creeping into her voice, "no more than night can keep the sun down. I will not put your flame in harm's way."

Taking a deep breath, Teo extended his hands. The flame flicked on his palm. As he moved it away from himself, its light seemed to grow, illuminating more of the world than he had seen in three days. Including Chrissa.

Her eyes were large, and Teo thought they were blue. Her hair was uncombed and gray in the dim light, and her lips were parched and smiling. She raised a finger to the flame, but did not try to touch it. Her eyes lifted from its whiteness and into Teo's face. Teo's cheeks burned.

Suddenly Chrissa's eyes were filmed with tears. "You are the first person I have seen since the darkness," she whispered, and her voice wavered.

Teo paused. "You're the first person I've seen, too," he said.

Chrissa laughed, and Teo chuckled, and suddenly they had their arms around each other, with the flame safely between them.

The darkness descended swiftly. Apprentice and mentor stared into the sky as blackness swallowed the earth and horror settled in their stomachs.

"What is it?" Teo said. He clung to the wizard's arm, the flame from the phoenix tickling the fingers of his other hand.

The wizard didn't answer, but knelt and grasped Teo's shoulders, his dark eyes round and darting as they fixed on Teo's face. "It will be upon us soon," he said, voice hushed and hoarse. "Teo, remember everything I have taught you. Do not let it frighten you. It cannot harm you, but if you let yourself despair, you will lose against it. It will try to put out your flame. Do not let it. Do you understand?"

Teo nodded, but he didn't. His eyes stung. "Master, I'm afraid," he said. Behind the wizard, the sky was black. A tree fell onto a building, but the only evidence that remained of it was the cracking and the cries.

"Do not be afraid," said his mentor, smiling. He stood, turning Teo around so the boy could not see the darkness approaching. "If you have that light, you have everything you need. Bring it to the dragon at the top of the tallest mountain. He will know what to do with it."

"What about you?" Teo said.

The wizard's eyes flicked behind Teo, becoming for one moment terrified. But then he smiled and laid his hand on his apprentice's shoulders. "I am not the one with the light. While you restore light to us, I will fight whatever causes this darkness. Do not let the darkness worry you; it is only temporary. Remember that, Teo. Remember that."

His hands fell from Teo's shoulders, and gently he turned the boy's chin downward, so that Teo stared at the little white flame in his hands. For a moment, all the boy saw was his flame. And then he blinked, and looked up, and the world was black and his master was gone. His flame flickered, but Teo breathed deeply. The light steadied, and Teo took a step forward.

"You can help me find my family with that flame," Chrissa said, stepping away from their hug.

Teo shook his head. "I can't. I'm on a quest, and I can't deviate from it."

Chrissa paused. "After your quest is completed, could you help me find my family?"

"I don't see why not," said Teo.

"Then I will come with you," she said. She grasped his elbow.

Teo did not argue.

They rested as little as possible, not wanting to delay themselves any longer. Sometimes they stood still, and Teo would hold his flame between them, and they would look at each other. Sometimes it made them cry. Other times it made them laugh. Once as they sat on a rock, Chrissa put her hand out, palm up, toward the flame. Gently, Teo tipped the light into Chrissa's hand.

It wavered, once, then straightened and continued burning. Chrissa sighed and grinned, and Teo could see her grin. It was warm and sincere and gentle, and Teo thought it more beautiful than the stars, when they had brightly shone.

Chrissa returned the flame to him, her smile vanishing into darkness again, and Teo accepted his light back. It seemed heavy in his palm. It was easier to share it than hoard it.

Standing, they continued, the ground beneath them steadily harder to climb.

At length, Chrissa said, "Do you think we're close?"

Teo paused, listening. The wind was louder up here, and there was a grumble close at hand, like a constant earthquake or thunder. "Yes," he said, "I think we are."

Chrissa took a large breath. "Dragon!" she yelled. "Are you near?"

To their right and from above, pebbles shifted. Dirt fell onto Teo's head, and he covered his flame.

"I am near," said a voice, deep and threatening, but not without a touch of gentleness. "I see your light. How do you keep it burning? I cannot breath fire through this darkness."

Teo swallowed and stared upward, though he had no hope of finding the dragon through the blackness. "It is a phoenix feather," he said. "I was given it before the darkness."

"Ah," the dragon grumbled. "Yes, a phoenix feather does not extinguish easily."

"I was told to bring it to you," Teo said, stepping forward. "My master said you would know what to do with it, to save us from the darkness."

"I do know what to do with it," said the dragon. "Any dragon would know what to do with it. But if I do what I must, it will not be your flame anymore. Do you trust me enough to give up your only light?"

Teo paused. He stared at the little light, white against his pale fingers. He remembered the lightness he felt at sharing it with Chrissa. He remembered his mentor's strong hands on his shoulders, reassuring and kind. He remembered the words of the phoenix, and the gentle way she had laughed at him.

He looked up. He thought now he could see his light glinting off the dragon's distant scales. He held up his hand, the flame standing on the tips of his fingers.

"It is not my only light," he whispered. "I trust you."

From the darkness, a great hand emerged, scaly and muscular and clawed with bronze. The scales shone gold, and as they caught the light of the fire, they seemed to amplify it, so that Teo could see the brown-red dirt around him and the large eyes of Chrissa beside him. And beyond the flame, beyond the large talons, the dragon's face, old and wise and sorrowful, the light reflected in both of his large eyes as slowly, he reached for the fire.

Teo did not flinch. Neither did his flame. The dragon touched a talon to the bottom of the light, and instead of dancing on Teo's fingertip, it danced on the dragon's claw. The dragon drew it toward himself, slowly and with great care. He held it close to his bronze chest, each scale a mirror of the flame, and suddenly he was bright and giant and terrible, and Chrissa whimpered and clutched Teo's arm. Teo only stared at his flame and the noble face of the dragon who held it.

"Keep it safe," the boy whispered.

The dragon dipped his head. "I will keep it shared."

Wings rustled, like wind in dead leaves, and the outline of them appeared beside the dragon, lines of fire shimmering in and out of the light. "I go to relight the sun," the dragon said. "Remember me, if I do not return."

Teo nodded. "I will."

The dragon's wings flapped. The children stepped back, grasping each other's hands, as the dragon flew into the black sky. He turned his back on them, and the flame was hidden from them, and so was the dragon and everything else. Their grip on each other tightened.

"How does he know which way to go?" Chrissa whispered. Her voice through the darkness sounded lonely.

"He has a light now," Teo said. "That will guide him."

Chrissa paused. She sighed. "And I suppose it's no use for us trying to get down this mountain without a light."

"But we have each other. But I'm tired. Let's sit for a moment."

And feeling behind them for a rock, they sat, and held onto each other, and smiled through the dark, waiting for the sunrise.