Victory's Price

Phoenix - Wolf (Part Seventy - Three)

 Chapter 73

The man at her side was a different creature entirely from the one she had met just a few weeks ago. Wolf crossed his arms, Lord of Nine. She had saved him countless times over the past week, forced almost the full extent of his success. And still, to look at him, he had become fearsome.

Perhaps he would hold strong beneath the pressure of her betrayal.

Phoenix blinked, no longer surprised at the pain it gave her to think of it.

No, he would not.

No one could.

"Are you coming?" Wolf growled, hesitant before the tenth Star.

She nodded.

"I would not miss the finals."

And she could not risk his death.

Though, as her gaze settled contentedly on the steady rise and fall of his chest, she knew that sentimentality encroached on the decision. Oh gods, he actually meant something to her.

"The finals?" He asked, releasing his arms so that he might play with the hilt of his blade.

Phoenix sighed.

"The last three are…" She paused, for once unable to quite pick the words. "Consider them a test of all you have learnt as opposed to new lessons. Anyone can make nine, with wit and a bit of luck. The final three make legends."

Wolf smirked, unable to comprehend the true depth of her meaning.

"Well." He said. "I guess that was the original intention."

And he stepped through the light, making the first movement in the dance that would lead to the first of his stories, his first true legend.

Phoenix glanced reluctantly around at the cold morning and followed him in.

The tenth level looked as it always looked; a comforting enemy, welcoming and familiar. It was not more than a simple forest clearing and, though the shadows between the trunks leaked into the open space, she continued to find it oddly soothing.

Phoenix took a step toward Wolf, feet sinking into the soft grass, and only then did it hit her. Something wasn't right.

The Stars' will oozed smugly through her mind, hanging hazily before her eyes and, for the first time since she had passed through here on her own assent, Phoenix felt the heavy threat of danger.

This eternal twilight offered comfort no more; she felt the full effects of dark intention. Broken tendrils of magic whisked around the outskirts of the battleground, humming ominously with pent up power and visible only to her. The trees rustled in a breeze that simply did not exist, pressing  hungrily in on the open space.

"Tell me my task." Wolf whispered from before her, consenting to the threat in the air.

"Fight those that fell at this hurdle, destroy another as great as yourself."

"A Lord or Lady of Nine?"

"Yes." Phoenix nodded. "Nine or more; a dead one, a champion for the Stars."

Wolf rubbed his arms. Phoenix could see the raised Goosebumps on his skin. If he was wise, they would not be due to the cold.

The tension spread out, pulled so taught Phoenix feared it would bind her to one spot. The Stars, ever cruel, slipped into further darkness, bathing the light in deepest blue.

She was not happy, not happy at all.

And then a familiar cackle split the still air.

Dragon.