Gift of the Phoenix

When the flame that had been burning for the last 1,074 years fell to a wisp and winked out of existence, the seven men and women ringing the altar knew they were about to witness something rare. They did not know they were about to witness something devastating. They stood in the center of an upper room, hewn out of rock in a time before time, circled by windows open in every direction to the sky beyond. A chill air crept in, past the circle of cloaked figures, and into the void left by the flame.

Nashua cradled the glass orb in her hands, longing to dry her palms. The Head of the Order gave Nashua a warning glance, as if she needed one. Not the slightest movement could deviate from the ceremony. She knew that. She took a breath and forced her hands to still. Just don’t drop it, she thought.