The King's Remorse

Chapter 5

Pastiest Shade of White

I inhale sharply as I feel the dove beneath my skin spread its wings and raise its feathers, ready to burst from my flesh and take over. The malachite medallion pulses with magic and energy that surges through me.

“Don’t do it-,” I try to say, but it’s too late.

Flames billow across Phoenix’s pelt as he lunges toward Freedom with a snarl.

Freedom trumpets and lifts a foreleg. When she sets it down, yellow tendrils burst upwards like water splattering as a droplet hits a puddle. They fall back toward the ground, and begin to twirl as her black eyes flash with stars. Her feathers rustle and the shafts glow the same color as the feather; red closest to the dark blue skin making up her elbow, arm, and wrist, then yellow in the middle, and a light turquoise for the furthest feathers.

I push Myles and Wyatt behind me, shivering with anxiety as Phoenix spits at Freedom.

“Stop!” Ky shouts, slapping out a paw in an attempt to snap his brother out of his rage, but it doesn’t work.

“Why did Lucius do it?” Phoenix snarls. “Why?”

“Stop it, Phoenix,” Ky tries again, stepping between the black cat and Freedom, whose tendrils wriggle across the ground, emanating from within her. Ky’s tail swishes across the ground as he struggles to stay between Phoenix and Freedom, and it draws very close to one of the tendrils. I hold my breath and watch as the tendril pauses and pulsates, as if thinking about acting upon Ky with whatever Freedom’s magic does, but it turns away.

Freedom curls her trunk up on her forehead. “This will not end well, Phoenix.”

“We haven’t even touched each other.”

“We don’t have to do this,” I plead. “We can talk this out. We can all share our sides, find common ground, and find a good solution. We’re all mature beings. We all want what’s best. We do not need to fight.”

“But how do we know that Freedom is telling the truth?” Phoenix counters. “How do we know she isn’t with the cream puff? How do we know Lucius didn’t bring her back for some ulterior motive? How do we know she isn’t up to some plot that only benefits the cream puff and royally fucks the rest of us. How do we know the second we leave here she isn’t gonna pull some dick move and have the cream puff sending the entirety of his army our way? Remember what I told you, Grey? Death is the only guarantee Lucius offers in this fucked up world. But now it seems they can’t even guarantee that.” Phoenix sneers. “Maybe if I send Freedom back to them they’ll come talk to me and we can have a little chat about their newfound hobby.”

I hesitate, looking between Freedom and Phoenix. Closing my eyes, I sigh.

“Freedom lost Astra to the King, Phoenix. Did you forget that?” I ask. “I do not believe that someone who fought so hard to keep her daughter safe would work with the very person responsible for the loss of her daughter in the first place.”

Freedom never would’ve hurt her daughter like that, right? Freedom was dead when I was born, but I learned she stood against the King growing up and Brook said she cared about Astra so much. She wouldn’t side with the King.

I can’t quite shake the seed of doubt Phoenix placed in my head, though.

“Phoenix,” Ky says, “take a breath. Breathe. It’s ok. We will figure this out. We’re still here. Together forever, remember?”

Phoenix wrinkles his muzzle and scowls.

“I can’t,” he says, baring his teeth and pinning his ears. “He can’t keep winning. He can’t.”

“The King?” Myles asks.

“Who the fuck else?” Phoenix whirls on Myles, eyes flashing as a low growl rumbles somewhere deep in his chest.

Wyatt steps in front of Myles, and Phoenix tilts his head to the side.

“I ain’t gonna go after your buddy. I might’ve become a monster, but I’m not the cream puff. I ain’t him.” Phoenix draws in a ragged breath as something wild flares in his gaze.

“We know,” Ky says quickly, scrambling to get his brother’s attention back on him.

“Then why the hell is everyone trying to keep everyone else away from me? Why is Freedom using whatever the fuck type of magic she’s got? Why are you doing that thing where you’re talking so nicely and I know you’re just trying to talk me down?”

“Because we don’t need a fight right now.” Ky’s expression saddens. “We just had the fight in the Sea. I don’t want to know how many died. The number is far too many. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. I know you can handle yourself, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Ky’s voice drops off into a whisper I can barely hear. “I don’t want to watch you disappear in flames again, Phoenix.”

Phoenix sighs. “I’m not gonna do that, Ky. You know I can’t burn. Flames can’t do anything to me.”

“It’s not about the flames. We’ve been over this before.” Ky drives his forehead into Phoenix’s shoulder, nuzzling in close, and his brother lowers his eyebrows and looks off to the side.

Freedom ticks her head to the side. Her wings unfold and rise as she falls backward, hind legs buckling beneath her. Myles and I scramble out of the way as she tumbles to the side. Freedom slams into the tree we’d been standing beneath, and the trunk shakes, loose leaves swaying to the ground as birds scatter and call. When Freedom’s ribcage drags against the bark, a layer of skin sloughs off and remains on the tree. No blood bubbles up from her flesh, and she doesn’t grimace or cry out in pain.

I look away and try to keep a neutral expression as my stomach twists. Wyatt hurries over.

“What can I do?” they ask.

“So you’re asking her what you can do?” Phoenix jeers.

“Please don’t,” Ky says.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m asking,” Ky replies, “and I know that your anger is not directed at Freedom.”

“How do you know? I’m angry at everyone.”

“Not really, you aren’t.” Ky’s voice is soft, even.

I watch the interaction between the two brothers, and I shift on my feet, unsure of what to do. As a teacher, I had stepped in between many arguments and fights and gently assisted my students in figuring out differences and helping them get along. But here, I can tell there’s more to what Ky and Phoenix are talking about. I’m curious, but I’m not going to ask. Phoenix is already so on edge and Ky isn’t in a sharing mood.

Phoenix exhales through gritted teeth, eyebrows furrowed until all I can see of his eyes are two thin slits, blazing and glaring. He lashes his tail, pulling his ears further against his skull.

“If Freedom would just talk this would all be easier.”

“You’re not really one for talking, either,” Ky replies. “You have never shared all that much with anyone.”

“I talk to you, thank you very much.” Phoenix sneers at his brother.

“What would you like to know?” Freedom asks.

“Tell me about Lucius.”

“I do not know that much more than you do, I’m afraid.”

“Bullshit. You met them when they brought you back.”

“Our interaction when Lucius did so was very brief, and they said very little.”

Phoenix looks unconvinced, and the look in his eyes is wild, inching closer to snapping. “So how the fuck did you get the manifestation of death to bring you back to life?”

Freedom hesitates. “I did not convince Lucius to bring me back to life. I did not ask or beg them to do so at any point in time. Arcane was the one who made the deal with Lucius. I had no part in that discussion and subsequent deal.”

Phoenix snarls, sides heaving, and the yellow tendrils around Freedom’s legs brighten and quicken from a dull, sluggish color to tendrils mimicking the color and pace of a canary bird flitting through the trees on rapid, fluttering wingbeats. They coil and twist around her limbs in wisps. A few begin to reach out toward Phoenix, but they return to their host just as quick.

“Take a breath, Phoenix,” Ky suggests in a soft voice. “We do not need to burn the forest down.”

“I will not!” Phoenix snaps with a sharp growl.

“I will not,” he repeats, and it sounds like he’s trying to convince someone. But who, I don’t know. “I will not burn the forest down.”

“I won’t,” Phoenix says again, looking his brother in the eye before he breaks away with another snarl that rumbles and echoes in his chest. He paces, and his flames crackle and sputter in response to his shaking emotional state.

Myles and Wyatt share a concerned look with each other, and when they catch my eye, I echo it. I want to step in, but I don’t know that I can do anything.

“Phoenix,” Ky says, moving to stand a step or two away from his brother. He looks Phoenix right in the eyes. “I know how upset you are. I am, too. But I am worried right now, and—.”

Something snaps in Phoenix’s expression, and the atmosphere changes. I can feel the shift in the air. With the malachite medallion warming fast on my chest, I step in front of Myles and Wyatt, readying myself to shift into my dove form if needed. I do not want to hurt Phoenix and I do not know how much I can do against him, but I must try.

“You’re worried?” Phoenix asks with a humorless laugh. “Of what I’m gonna do?”

“I know you’re angry—,” Ky starts.

Phoenix laughs again. “Oh. Oh, I’m angry? I’m angry. Of course I’m fucking angry. Why the fuck do you think I want to kill the cream puff and destroy his fucking life?”

“Why?” Freedom asks. “I know some of what the King has done, but not all. I can understand wanting to end the King’s reign—.”

Phoenix roars, the sound pitches up loud enough that it echoes in my head, and fire explodes from his body before I can understand what’s going on.

Flames lick at my skin, wrapping around my arm, my wrist, my neck. I feel them carve into my flesh in sharp, searing cuts. I scream as my legs give out, body taken over by the pain that shatters through me until it’s the only thought in my head and everything else is forgotten. I don’t breathe as I grit my teeth and curl up, body tensed as the heat burns deeper, throbbing. The malachite medallion is a brand on my chest, another heat so hot it’s overwhelming, two temperatures beyond anything I’ve ever experienced and I don’t know how to cope. My skin swells where it’s been burned and it feels like it’s crawling. The pain stops within parts of my arms, but not everywhere and not before I feel the full force of it. When I inhale, fire scorches my throat, bringing tears to my eyes as I instinctively cough. Smoke fills my lungs and I feel like I’m choking.

I can feel the malachite medallion seeking out the dead nerves within my skin to knit back together and the raw skin in my throat, but the damage is extensive enough that it cannot work quickly. The gash on my forearm I got when I tripped on my bed after first finding my necklace was minor and simple in comparison to the burns.

“You don’t get to tell me that the cream puff doesn’t deserve to die. He deserves to feel every single thing he’s done dealt back to him a hundredfold.”

I hear Phoenix panting, and each exhale is a low rumble against his vocal cords.

"You don't get to tell me that."

As soon as Phoenix’s flames are gone, Wyatt is by my side. They usher me off my knees and onto my back as Myles gently holds me still. I shrug out of his grip and move up into a sitting position. The sensation of his touch combines with the feeling of the burns and turns into something unbearable. Lying on my back feels far too exposed. Myles lets me go without complaint and Wyatt doesn’t question me.

Wyatt tugs at the malachite medallion and tries to pull it off over my head, but they can’t. It won’t come off, and I exhale through my teeth when the cord of the necklace digs into the skin below my jaw.

“Can’t,” I say, voice raspy and hoarse.

“It cannot come off?” Wyatt asks as they lift my left arm.

“It can’t.”

“What the fuck was that?” Ky shrieks.

“Freedom was gonna tell me that we should just let the cream puff fuckin’ live. Ain’t no way I’m gonna hear that.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Ask her.”

“Were you going to?” Ky asks.

“I was going to say that things are more complicated than simply black and white,” Freedom replies. “There are many shades of grey to almost everything.”

Phoenix scoffs. “The cream puff is the pastiest shade of white there is. He doesn’t have a hint of grey in him at all. What question is there with him? The cream puff’s gotta go. He’s gotta die.”

Wyatt makes quick work of looking over my arms and the burns across each one. They then examine my neck, gently touching the skin around the injury as they get a closer look. The heat from the malachite medallion warms my chest through my shirt, and I wish I could rip it off but I know I can’t and I also know it’s helping to heal me. I need it, no matter how much I wish I wasn’t the Dove and that things could go back to how they were before the night Alex and I sought out the Erebus Tree.

I keep my eyes closed, but I hear Freedom take a breath that rattles and wheezes in her lungs.

“I will not and cannot argue with you. I despise the King with every fiber of my being for what he has done to me and my family,” she says quietly.

“Phoenix, you have to apologize,” Ky says.

“The fire wasn’t as hot as it could’ve been. It wasn’t even as hot as I make it for Guard and Soldiers. I doubt it went that far into his skin, Ky. It didn’t even go past his arms!” I hear Phoenix talking, but I can’t pay that close of attention. My skin tingles as the malachite medallion begins to heal me. “Tell Wyatt that yeah, my fire exploded and I didn’t exactly have full control, but I didn’t have the fire all that hot. Even without control, I had enough control that the fire didn’t do too much damage.”

“You tell them that yourself if you’re so concerned. I’m more focussed on the fact that you burned Grey. And it burned Grey’s neck.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“I’m aware of that. Intention counts for something, but you still fucking burned him. You’ve got every right to be angry and I am, too, but you hurt Grey. I’m sure he’s hurt emotionally, not just physically.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“No, Phoenix,” Ky snaps. “You don’t get to brush this one off and pretend like you don’t care. You might disagree with Grey on a lot, but I know you are not a monster. You are not the cream puff. You still have your heart.”

“It’s been ten fucking years. We’re so fucking close, but we’re still so fucking far.”

Even with my eyes closed as I sit hunched over as Wyatt examines my arms and neck while the malachite medallion slowly sets about healing the burn wounds, I can sense how tense Phoenix is, and I can hear how he paces, every step stiff and bitter.

Ky sighs. His breath shudders. “I know, Phoenix. It’s been ten years. It’s been so long. Too long. Far too long.”

“We’re never gonna destroy the cream puff at this pace.”

“We’re closer than we’ve ever been.”

“Are we, Ky?” Phoenix asks, disbelief in every syllable. “Are we really?”

Wyatt tilts my head to the side, their fingers gentle but firm as they examine my neck. There isn’t much they can do out here, not without all the supplies they have in their tent in the Sea. And with the malachite medallion healing me, they don’t need to do as much as they would on someone else; they just need to keep an eye on how my wounds are healing.

Ky sighs. “Yes, Phoenix. We are. We have never had friends. We have never met others and stayed with them for any actual length of time. This is the longest we’ve ever been around others.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“We’ve made it into the King’s castle. We’ve seen him face-to-face. We’ve taken on Generals. You’ve gone after who knows how many Guard and Soldiers. You just helped kill the King’s Dragon. How long do you think this would’ve taken us on our own?”

Phoenix growls. I hear him begin to pace again. Behind me, I hear Freedom shift on her feet. I open my eyes, looking over Wyatt’s shoulder. They offer a tense but genuine smile, glancing up at me before returning to the burns that I can feel are beginning to repair themselves with the magic of the malachite medallion.

“Calm down,” she says.

“Don’t,” Ky says softly. “Please.”

Phoenix growls, bottom jaw chattering as he wrinkles his muzzle and hisses, eyes flashing and flames leaping and crackling unpredictably. The purple shock of hair blows with the current of the fire blazing across his body as he bares his teeth, snarling at Freedom’s request.

Myles and Wyatt and I stay quiet, remaining by the tree Freedom had bashed with her tusks. I want to say something, try to figure out what has Phoenix so wound up, so angry, so furious, but I can tell that saying anything will not help and will only make things worse. My throat is still raw from the heat and smoke I had inhaled.

“Calm down?” Phoenix scoffs. “Fuck off. Don’t tell me to calm down.”

“Phoenix,” Ky tries, fluffy tail swishing against his hind legs.

“You know what?” Phoenix ignores his brother, stalking around Ky to face Freedom, whose neck spasms. The muscles on her side contract as she shudders. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I do not want to fight,” Freedom says, voice warning and wary. She takes a step backward as Phoenix takes another two forward, tail high and head low.

“I don’t remember ever asking.” Phoenix rakes his claws through the ground as fire blazes on his pelt. “I certainly didn’t ask you to do something as stupid as telling me to calm down. When has that ever worked?”

“I do not want to fight,” Freedom repeats.

Her yellow tendrils curl around her legs and body, reflecting in her black eyes. Phoenix snarls, and Freedom’s tendrils respond.

When a few of them shoot forward, rushing for Phoenix, he dodges the first ones by leaping over them with a roar, but as strong as he is, he’s not agile and the next ones hit him on his paw and hindquarter. The yellow spreads out like a spider’s web in thin fingers, and Phoenix seizes up, limbs going stiff as he chokes on his next breath. A spark of fear flares in his eyes.

“Easy,” Freedom says, voice low and oddly soft.

Phoenix snarls, but his body relaxes with pulses from the wisps of Freedom’s magic dancing across his body.

I narrow my eyes. I don’t understand what Freedom is doing, but I don’t like it. I thought she had been going against the King and keeping him at bay, but with what she is doing to Phoenix, I don’t know. Confusion twists within me.

“Please help me understand,” I say. “What are you doing right now?”

Phoenix glares at me, rage in his eyes that’s telling me to attack and ask questions later.

I cannot do that, I silently reply. I cannot just jump straight to violence. We can solve problems peacefully. We don’t have to sort things out with our fists. Words work, too, if we give room for listening and understanding.

“I don’t want to fight,” Freedom explains. “I spent so long fighting. I kept the King at bay, but it was every day. Every single day, and it was never enough. He was always stronger, and he kept getting stronger. I knew what he had done to Jabez, and I tried to make things right for him. I tried to make it so the King could never hurt anyone else, but he did. He hurt so many, and he kept hurting so many. I can manipulate emotions. I suppose my name doesn’t quite fit. Freedom being the same thing determining something as personal as what you feel. But I can manipulate emotions, and that’s what I did to Phoenix. I don’t want to fight, and I panicked.”

“You changed Phoenix’s emotions?” Ky asks.

Freedom nods. She studies Phoenix, who’s glaring at her as yellow tendrils wisp across his body and snake around him to keep ahold of him through Freedom’s magic. He’s still relaxed in a false sort of way. The edges of his body are soft, and his ears fall low while his tail brushes the ground. His limbs sit in a heavy set. Yet, underneath it all, there’s the usual tension riddling Phoenix’s being, the thrum of rage. His eyes tell everything Freedom’s magic won’t let the rest of him say: Phoenix is furious, and if Freedom’s magic wasn’t holding him in place, he would be attacking.

“I did change Phoenix’s emotions. That’s what my magic allows me to do.”

“Don’t do that to him!” Ky snaps, baring his teeth. His fur fluffs up.

“Freedom, can you please let Phoenix go? We don’t need another fight,” Myles says, stepping away from where Wyatt and I are. He walks over to stand near Ky and Freedom. “Grey is already injured. We don’t need anyone else getting hurt.”

“I can let him go, but I don’t want a fight.”

“Don’t manipulate my brother’s emotions,” Ky growls, stalking forward a few steps.

I watch over Wyatt’s shoulder as Freedom looks between Ky and Phoenix. Myles moves to sit up straighter, gripping his staff tighter.

Before Freedom can respond, Myles stands up, bracing himself on his staff and supporting his right knee.

“We need to continue,” Myles says.

Wyatt kneels in front of me, continuing to look over my injuries as the malachite medallion glows on my chest and silver light dances atop the burns, but they watch Myles and their fingers pause in rotating my arm to check on the entirety of the wound on my left arm.

“We need to continue,” Myles repeats. “We will do so when Grey feels ready. Astra, Brook, and Jabez are in the Sea. You can see them there. Please, remove your magic from Phoenix, and we will continue and you can see your family and Brook in the Sea.”

I can hear the underlying message.

We should part ways here, before things get worse.

The interaction hadn’t started off too badly, but it had so quickly taken a turn.

Freedom is quiet for a moment, but then she nods. “Yes, I understand. I will go seek them out now.”

One by one, she calls back the tendrils from Phoenix, keeping a careful eye on him as he scowls at her and growls. When the last tendril is gone, he lunges for her with a roar, rushing her, but he sprints right by her, just barely missing her. Freedom stumbles to the side in an effort to avoid Phoenix, and her side slams into a tree, one near the tree she had torn with her tusks. She grunts and watches where Phoenix had dashed off into the forest, seething with rage.

Ky doesn’t seem surprised at Phoenix’s actions and makes no move to follow him.

Freedom takes a breath, inclines her head at us, then starts off in the way we came. Her steps are uneven and her gait is unsteady. She slowly makes her way toward the Sea.

When she’s out of sight, I look at the tree beside me, at the gouges made by her tusks and the bark bearing the sloughed-off pieces of her skin.

What happened to you, Freedom? What happened when you died, when you came back? Why did Lucius bring you back?

I look at Wyatt and nod, and they stand and offer me a hand that I take. They help me up, holding on until they’re sure I’m stable.

When I let go, they run a hand through their hair and push it all back over their shoulders. They twist the ring on their finger.

“Let’s go,” I say. “We need to find Alex. The malachite medallion will heal the burns as we move, but we need to find Alex.”