The Chronicles of Phoenix Bloodheart I: Turning Red

Chapter XIII: The sinking night

One afternoon, after sparring with the crew, Trixie says to Phoenix: "Enough! Well done."

Phoenix, out of breath and flushed, paces around the room for a while, before grabbing a flask of water and sitting down on her bed. With heavy breaths and the occasional swig of her drink, she leans back to recover, sweat dripping from her brow.

"Good," Trixie proclaims, moving towards her. "We are making progress, you are learning, but there is still much to do."

Phoenix, in between breaths, retorts: "Just please, no more today."

Trixie pouts and stifles a wide smile. She jumps onto Phoenix's bunk and leans back against the wall.

"There is one more fight you must have, I'm afraid," Trixie trails off.

hoenix tilts her head up from her pillow and raises her hands, grimacing at Trixie with mock rage, before crashing back down again.

"Probably the toughest of all," Trixie says, tapping the side of her head. "The one up here. A battle with yourself."

"What do you want me to do, kick myself in the face?" Phoenix says.

Trixie titters. "No," she says, nodding her head upwards. "I want you to spend the whole night up there. Alone."

"And do what exactly?" Phoenix stammers, catching her breath now.

Trixie shrugs. "Get comfortable in your own skin. Embrace the shadows. Survive."

Phoenix would sigh if she wasn't slightly out of breath. Instead, she looks down at the floor and rises from the bed, before walking towards the table.

"I'm not done yet, redhead," Trixie speaks with a raised voice. Phoenix had earned that nickname not only for the colour of her hair, but the rage that resides within.

Phoenix mopes and stumbles backwards onto the bed.

"There is an alley in the village here, near the tavern. It winds behind some homes and spills out onto the edge of the village, further down the beach," Trixie explains.

"What of it?" Phoenix asks.

"You are to stay within it from dusk until sunrise," Trixie instructs.

"What, why?" Phoenix asks stubbornly. "What's the point of that?"

Trixie repeats herself: "Like I said, I want you to get comfortable with the night. You will only be going above ground at night for the foreseeable future - until we hear back from our captain, at least. You have the potential to make a good scout, like Seven. But you need to be completely confident at moving alone, in shadow, without fear. There may be occasions in the future that will demand it."

Phoenix groans.

"No food, no drink, no weapons, no sleep up there. So I suggest you eat now and move out in a few hours," Trixie says, leaping off of the bed and into the back room where some of the stores are located, not giving Phoenix the chance to reply.

Phoenix turns over and slumps her head onto her pillow again, facing the wall and thinking about overcoming her fears of being attacked, of the Steelfeathers, of being caught by the guards or being turned in by someone else.

Later, after eating supper with the rest of the group - some stew and sweet potatoes - Phoenix takes a long drink of water, gasping with refreshment from the day's hard work.

She cracks her knuckles, and, feeling a wave of nervousness in the pit of her stomach, bids farewell to the group.

"You got dis mon!" Django bellows, smiling. "Fate got your back!"