Ice Phoenix

Dinner turned out to be a scrumptious affair of soup, salads, and warm dinner rolls followed by a delicious nut stew and a selection of sweet, fresh dumplings. After eating as much as they could, they retired to their pods by the window, curled up their feet and sat in comfortable silence with their favourite beverages. In Terrana’s case, it was hot chocolate.

Mikin had applied a gel pad to his eye, and the swelling had receded quickly. One of the attendants had treated his trunk, applying a green lotion to it, and Terrana had been astonished to see it healing right before her eyes. Her burns had taken weeks to heal and she still had a light scar on the side of her face, but, she determined, the extent of the injuries could not be compared. She had nearly died.

The atmosphere between the three students was polite; none of them wishing to be rude by attaching the sensory pads and disappearing into a virtual world of fun and games. Eventually, it fell upon Lorn to break the ice.

“So, Terrana, am I right to guess that one of your parents is an official?”

She looked up in surprise. Both he and Mikin were looking at her expectantly. “Huh? Why do you think that?”

Lorn gestured around the room. “Blue coin? First class travel? Only the very rich or important are allowed a blue coin. Didn’t you know that?”

No, she hadn’t known. Baneyon had only warned her not to lose the coin. Was he important then? She thought hard. He had a nice apartment, but he constantly moaned about his bills so no, he couldn’t be rich. She had never seen him leave for work, either, and if he did, it was to grab a drink from the nearby café and ogle at the pretty women walking by. She ruled out important.

“You’re not very familiar with how things work here, huh?” said Lorn. “Which sector are you from?”

Terrana hesitated. Should she tell them? Would they treat her any differently if they knew? Lorn’s eyes followed her like a hawk, as if he knew she was hiding something. Mikin, on the other hand, looked like ... an elephant.

“I’m from ... .” She hadn’t been able to say it, that she was from Sector Thirteen. She didn’t want to be treated as an outcast. Lorn whistled and leaned forwards, regarding her with curiosity.

“From Suva?”

Terrana sat back in surprise, her eyes widening. How could he possibly have known? It was a simple question. No disbelief. No accusation of lying. No ridicule. The little knot inside her came loose. He had known all along, and yet he had treated her like a normal person.

“I’m from an island in the Yasawas Group in .”

“I’m lost,” said Mikin. “Where’s ?”

Lorn sighed. “It’s in Sector Thirteen, dodo.”

“Sector Thirteen?” Mikin threw Terrana an incredulous look. “Really?”

Terrana nodded.

“Wow! That’s uber cool!” he cried, leaping from his pod. He sidled up to her and began rubbing her with his trunk. It was cool to touch and quite ticklish as he ran it up and down her arm, and she began to giggle.

“Wow! That is amazing! I have a friend from Sector Thirteen!”

“Okay, back off Nipponian before you smother her in trunk juice!”

“My trunk does not juice,” Mikin replied in a hurt voice as he found himself being deposited back into his pod by Lorn.

“That may be true, but you don’t just run your trunk along any girl that comes along. Where’re your manners?”

Mikin’s ears flapped and he hung his head. Terrana felt sorry for him. “It’s okay, Mikin. I didn’t mind.”

“So,” said Lorn, settling into his pod once more, “is your family here or do you have a guardian?”

“A guardian. His name’s Baneyon Ondur.”

At the mention of Baneyon, both Mikin and Lorn turned pale. Mikin looked as though he was about to cry actually.

“I’m really sorry, Terrana! I didn’t mean to be rude — I was just excited at meeting someone from Sector Thirteen. Please don’t tell your guardian! I’ll return to my cabin!”

Terrana was taken aback. Why were they suddenly so afraid? “I said I didn’t mind, Mikin. There’s no need to return to your cabin.”

“She doesn’t know,” said Lorn, glancing at Mikin. “She doesn’t know who he is.”

“What are you talking about? Of course I know Baneyon — he adopted me!” Terrana raised her voice. Their sudden deferent behaviour was beginning to annoy her.

“No, you don’t. If you had, you’d know he’s an Imeldor,” replied Lorn.

Imeldor. That was a new word. It sounded lame. “Is that a kind of weaver then?”

Both boys groaned. “I can’t believe I’m sitting with a girl from Sector Thirteen who’s on her way to Minda Yerra and she has no idea of who an Imeldor is,” said Lorn.

Terrana glared at him. The urge to kick him was quite strong.

“An Imeldor is someone who has achieved the highest stage of weaving,” explained Lorn. “There’re only a few people in the entire universe who have achieved this level, and your guardian, Baneyon Ondur, is one of them.”

That still didn’t explain much. “How high is high?” she asked.

“He can flatten skyscrapers with a flick of his fingers,” said Lorn.

“Create whirlwinds and slice you up into little pieces,” added Mikin.

“Pluck this ship from the In-Between and send it crashing into an asteroid if he wanted to,” continued Lorn.

If they expected her to react in astonishment, they were sadly disappointed. She looked more sceptical than ever. “I think you have the wrong Baneyon. The Baneyon I know spills coffee on the carpet and makes me clean it. And he even forgets to tell me which junk I’m supposed to board.”

The boys gave her strange looks. Lorn changed the subject. “How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“That’s the same as me!” blurted Mikin.

“And you?” asked Terrana, looking at Lorn.

“Sixteen. I’m from Daiphus, by the way.”

It was the beginning of a conversation that kept them up long after dinner. Time passed quickly as they learned about one another and, more importantly, Terrana got to see the world through their eyes. She was intrigued by the watery underworld that Mikin came from and how his parents had raised him to be a bookworm. Lorn’s childhood was pretty much defined by his zest for life, and it came as no surprise that his parents had found him to be a handful.

It was only when the discussion swung around to Terrana, and Mikin asked about her family that things went wrong. The boys sensed instantly that Mikin had asked a taboo question. Her cup dropped to the floor, clinking as it charted a trail of muddy chocolate. A deep red burned beneath her cheeks, and for an instant the boys could have sworn her eyes had blackened.

“Terrana?” Lorn said hesitantly. He and Mikin looked at each other with worried expressions. She was shaking.

“Terrana!” Lorn leapt to her side, placing a hand on her back and starting to rub it in an effort to calm her down.

“I’m okay,” she finally said in a small voice. But clearly she was not. She had believed she could speak of her family’s death without becoming emotional, but she had been wrong.

“They ... died in a fire.” Emotion spilled into her throat and she choked, collapsing into a coughing fit.

“It’s okay,” said Lorn gently. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

They spoke about other things, of life in other worlds and what to expect when they arrived at Minda Yerra. Because Lorn was a third-year student, he gave them the heads-up on the rules, classes, and teachers to avoid.

“Master Drummik is strict. Never ever not do your homework in his class! The headmistress — it doesn’t matter what you do, she’ll kill you either way.”

Both boys carefully avoided bringing up Terrana’s family in their conversation. In fact, they steered clear of the thirteenth sector completely. For that, Terrana was grateful, even though she knew they must have been burning with curiosity.

Eventually, they retired for the night. Instead of heading to the individual sleeping rooms, they remained in their pods, which converted into beds complete with pillows and covers, and gradually fell asleep.

For the next few hours, the dome was silent. Nothing but the occasional light from the stars touched the cabin as the ship flew through the In-Between, passing by planets and the occasional asteroid field.

The first sign there was something wrong was when the entire ship began to shudder. Had Terrana not been cocooned safely in her pod, she would have fallen to the floor. There was more grinding and screeching, and Terrana panicked. It sounded as though the ship was trying to squeeze through a very small space and not doing a good job of it.

“Kazu! What’s happening?” she called out anxiously. The ship’s computer did not answer.

“Terrana!” The voice was hushed and belonged to Lorn.

“Lorn, what’s happening? Why won’t Kazu respond?”

“Shh. Keep your voice down. You too, Mikin.”

“The lights won’t work, Lorn,” said Mikin. He sounded scared.

“They’re out for a reason. The captain’s disabled the entire ship. Look outside, and whatever you do, do not make any loud noises.”

The three of them peered past the edge of their pods and out the window. Great big chunks of blue ice drifted by. They were icebergs, some larger than the ship.

“Ve, ve-velassium!” stuttered Mikin. “Th-then that means ...” he trailed off, suddenly terrified.

“The ice-phoenixes are here,” said Lorn, grimly. “We are in so much trouble!”

The icebergs drifted out of sight and the whole cabin was bathed in complete darkness. Terrana’s heart pounded like a galloping stallion in her chest and she desperately tried to recall what she had learned about the ice-phoenix. Her conversation with Baneyon and Eliksha returned to her.

“If you ever come across one, run!” Baneyon had said. Fat chance of her doing that now. She couldn’t exactly run out into the In-Between could she? She made a mental note to tell Baneyon to improve upon his survival tips, or else young, impressionable girls like her could end up in very bad situations following his advice. She wracked her brain, trying to recall what the ice-phoenix could do, when she realised she had seen it. The icebergs. The breath of the ice-phoenix could turn anything into ice. Even vacuum. That was why it was called velassium. Dartkala’s breath.

“Lorn? What about the others?” asked Mikin. “If they start screaming, they’ll attract attention.”

“The captain’s already thought of it.”

Lorn was right. The inner-side of their pods began to glow faintly, and Terrana realised that a message was being written out.

Do NOT move, do NOT make a sound. And then it vanished. From the corner of her eye, she spotted something, and the back of her neck prickled.

“Lorn, what does an ice-phoenix look like?” she asked in a very loud whisper.

“I don’t know — I’ve never seen one!”

“It’s not a cross between a chicken and a pineapple, is it?”

“Sssh! Your voice is gonna attract attention!”

“Is it sort of white and wispy, with an icy feathery mane, greenish eyes, shoots like a rocket instead of flying like a bird?”

“Will you please, just be quiet?”

“Last question, can its eye alone be larger than our window?”

When Lorn didn’t answer her, she sat up straighter in the pod, looking around for him. A hand covered her mouth, pushing her face back against the pillow, and the next thing she knew Lorn was climbing into her pod. The weight of his body pressed on hers, and she felt his breath on her neck.

“If you don’t shut up, we’re all going to die!” he whispered fiercely.

“Umph, umph,” she grunted, pointing at the window. Lorn turned his head slowly, following the direction of her finger. It took him a few seconds to spot it, but when he did the breath went out of him, and his hand fell away from her face.

He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed it earlier. Had it been there the entire time? A cold, green fire writhed outside the window, harbouring a dark centre, which remained steady and watchful. It covered the entire window and he suddenly realised why he hadn’t seen it earlier. All this time when he thought he had been staring out, he had actually been looking into the centre of the fire.

“You could have said the ice-phoenix was outside the window,” he said reproachfully.

“I was trying to be sure that it was the ice-phoenix before I told you.”

“Well congratulations, now you know!”

“Well, I didn’t want to sound dumb and just say, hey look, the ice-phoenix is staring at us!”

“Guys, what’s happening?” called out Mikin nervously.

“Sssh! Don’t move!” hissed Lorn.

“Is it true? Is the ice-phoenix staring at us?”

“Yes, Mikin. That view outside the window, it’s not the In-Between. You’re looking into its eye.”

“Ai, ai, eye? The entire window?”

“They have no size,” said Lorn. “They are pure energy, born from Dartkala. They are the only known entity to exist solely in the In-Between with both form and intelligence.”

“B-but they’ve never been in this part of Dartkala before,” said Mikin fretfully.

“All the more reason to keep quiet and not move,” muttered Lorn. “Something must have brought them here. They haven’t been sighted in over two hundred years.”

The cabin suddenly flooded with green light, casting eerie shadows that rippled like waves on the sea. With the light came a bone-shattering cold and the cabin turned frosty, with ice forming on the walls, floor, and window. Had it not been for the pods’ automatic heat sensor and adjuster controls, the three of them would have suffered freeze burns.

The gentle sound of flapping filled the room. Terrana leaned forwards, pushing past Lorn to peer around the edge of the pod.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. “Now would be a good time to hide!” But Terrana ignored him, her eyes drawn instead to the white bird flying around inside the room, leaving a ribbon of light behind it.

“Lorn, you’ve got to see this! It’s beautiful,” she whispered, shaking his arm. “It’s in the cabin!” Lorn groaned and sat up reluctantly.

It was twice the size of a dove, with delicate frosted feathers and a long, wispy tail. It circled the cabin once more and as the three of them held their breaths, it flew into the pod, perching on one of Terrana’s outstretched legs.

The sheet that covered them hardened instantly. She dug her fingers into Lorn’s arm, wincing from the sudden cold that shot up both her legs.

The ice-phoenix was neither solid nor insubstantial. They could see tiny ribbons of energy undulating throughout its entire body, and they felt they were looking at the flow of life itself. It hopped farther up along her thigh and Terrana found herself staring into burning, green eyes.

A strange but familiar feeling flooded her. A connection that she had thought lost forever returned, beginning as a little spark in her head that spread throughout her entire body. It was a connection that had been severed when Puddy had abandoned her, leaving her to a complete stranger. The ice-phoenix’s presence appeared to have repaired that broken wire. It did not occur to her that perhaps the wire had been repaired a little too well. Her head was filled with the humming of a thousand bees.

You are one of us. Terrana flinched. This was beyond the level of communication between her and Puddy. This creature was sentient, powerful, and ancient. The humming had been a thousand thoughts, millions even, contained by an invisible net. Through it, the ice-phoenix had touched her mind with a single thought. Without the net, Terrana knew she would have died.

Do you return to the void?

Terrana blinked; the question made no sense. The ice-phoenix seemed to realise her confusion.

No, you are not ready. You do not know. Perhaps, this is best for you.

In what could be considered a display of affection, the ice-phoenix nuzzled its head against her chin, like a mother hen fussing over its chick.

Two young ones in the void. We will meet again. It stretched it wings, a sight of magnificence, as it rose into the air. Light gathered around it, becoming a whirlpool of brightness.

Shut your eyes.

Terrana shouted, “Shut your eyes!” She and Lorn buried their faces into the pod, squeezing their eyes shut. There was a blinding light and then the ice-phoenix was gone.

They remained like that for about a full minute, their heads buried under their pillows before daring to get up again. Mikin was the first to cry out, falling out of his pod and scrambling to the window.

“Look!” he shouted, pointing outside. Terrana and Lorn rushed to join him, and together they stared into the In-Between, their faces lit up with wonder.

Terrana watched in awe as ten ice-phoenixes flew side by side, white ribbons of light trailing behind them as they sped through the In-Between. They looked like brilliant rockets in the night. Terrana had never seen anything like it before. Instead of becoming smaller the farther out they flew, the opposite happened. The ice-phoenixes grew larger until the ship was nothing more than an insignificant speck against their feathers. Then in one final, magnificent display, they turned onto their backs, becoming one giant phoenix. Like fireworks in the night, they burst into a myriad of brilliant energy pulses and gradually faded from sight.

The ship rocked violently from the sudden release of energy in the In-Between, causing Terrana and the boys to fall over. It swayed back and forth like a lost ship on a violent sea until the raging waters finally subsided. After it had steadied itself, the ship was cloaked in absolute silence and darkness for a whole minute. And then the lights came on.

Screams. Jubilant shouts. The ship was flooded with the sound of being alive. Students and crew members fell to the floor crying. Some were jumping in excitement, while others were motionless, unable to say a word. Chanting filled the ship.

“Ice-phoenix! Ice-phoenix!”

It was an historic moment. Never before had the elusive ice-phoenix made an appearance to anyone travelling in the In-Between. It was the reason why no one knew what it looked like until now and it certainly did not resemble a chicken-pineapple hybrid. And this wasn’t just one ice-phoenix, but ten of them! Everyone felt blessed to have survived their encounter, and honoured to have seen the ice-phoenixes. The captain’s voice rang out.

"And that boys, girls, haemophrodites — is how we roll! Not a single person injured!”

The chanting got louder.

The captain continued in a quieter voice, “And we survived it! We are the first ones the ice-phoenixes have ever approached! We will go down in history as the ones to have seen Dartkala’s most elusive and powerful creation! With our incredible footage of the greatest event in history we will — ” Someone interrupted him. Everyone in the ship heard the mumblings of several other people in the background.

“What do you mean none of the ship’s monitors were working? What do you mean we don’t have any evidence? Not even motion captures?” The captain sounded close to crying. “But, but it was an historic moment! Bring me every single recording device on this ship right now! Confiscate them if you have to!"

Terrana fell back on the floor, and Mikin and Lorn joined her. Their hearts were still beating hard from the close encounter with the ice-phoenix. Laugh or cry, they could not decide which emotion to display.

“It came only to us,” said Mikin softly. “No one else knows.”

“No,” said Lorn, gazing at the ceiling. “It came only to Terrana.” He turned over, raising himself on his elbows so he could look at her. He said the words softly. “Just who are you, girl from Sector Thirteen?”

Terrana could not answer that.