On a distant sandy horizon a flash from the sun illuminated the distant marble city of Metros.

Namsket rode his white Arabian stallion through the heat, intently focused on his chosen destination.

The loose clothes on his back fluttered in the breeze like rivers in the desert haze. In the city a

large monolithic tower rose almost above the clouds and put the smaller residential buildings to

shame. All the roof tops of the buildings were made of beautiful red clay brick mined from the residue

of an ancient dried up lake. It cast an eerie effect over the city. This aura both nurtured and

protected the city and the people that lived within her. Namsket smiled, for he was getting closer.

   Despite what you might think, Namsket wasn’t a resident of this city. He was part of a seafaring

city by the coast and didn’t usually venture this way for purposes outside the trading. His kingdom

was a lot more humid than its dry sister, but the fishing business was in ruins for they were always

losing fishermen to sirens. These sirens were mermaid hybrids that seduce men with song and pull them

back into their underwater lair. What happened to the men then, the rumors ranged from the sirens

eating them to anything you might imagine. However you tossed the dice, men went into the sirens’ lair

and never came out. But besides them, his city was in good condition. So why, might you ask, was this

fisher prince doing here. This was simple; the king of Metros was now naming his daughter Kenya the

right true hair of his kingdom.  She was to be his sole lawful successor. Despite her father and

mother having had two sons, Micas and Edwin, her father could see that Kenya was the most politically

savvy amongst them. She was strong, loving, and just. Kenya could rally the entire kingdom to her

cause, because her cause was what was needed, her cause was always something that would benefit all,

and I mean all beings on their earth.  Why does this matter to Namsket? Well, this was to be the first

female secession of any kind throughout the known land. Some may have problems with a queen ruling on

her own.


   Princess Kenya was, to some, the image of beauty. Her skin was a tan brown, her face soft. The

wispy black hair that fell down her back was soft like alpaca fur. Her locks looked like waves of

black in a stormy sea, a hint of gold could be seen on it when she stepped into the sun which was a

distinct trait of her family. The eyes she had were more than eyes. When she gazed upon you it was

like being caught and held within your own dream. She was mystical, but not perfect. No one can be

perfect no matter how you try. This concept is an abstraction, because there is not one ideal perfect

thing.  Take for example if you look at any flower, or the art of a skilled swordsman’s blade, the

beauty of any piece of art. There all totally different, yet all perfect, like a flowing piece of

music that enriches your body and soul. Music is invisible, but as they say, so is perfection.

   Kenya practiced her sword fighting out in her father’s garden. The blade in her hand felt heavy in

the hot twilight.

   “Focus Kenya, keep your balance.” She thought. The night was darkening and it was getting harder to

see. Kenya wasn’t going to risk slashing into the darkness and perhaps injuring a passing civilian.

One more slash of her sword hit a large tree suddenly. Obviously whatever powers at be didn’t want her

practicing sword fighting so late. She also still had a curfew. Sometimes Kenya wondered if the forces

of nature were on her father’s side in trying to get Kenya in the castle before dark. Since she was

old enough, no trip outside happened without the king giving her a long lecture on safety. You know,

the “don’t talk to strangers” and “don’t wander too far” speech. Kenya thought to herself, who is a

stranger to the princess, and where did she have to wander? The desert was nearly 100 miles wide.

   Her dad was naming her as the future ruler of his entire domain, which was a plus. Little did any

of them know the deadly chain of events that was unfolding, that night, that garden, right behind a

shrub, watching Kenya.


   Namsket hid behind a dried-up bush and watched the princess put down her sword. If he was going to

make his attack, he didn’t want to do it while the subject had a weapon in her hands. The night was

quiet; Kenya almost seemed to blend into the abyss of wakening stars. Not the wind or the trees that

blew in them was as old as these celestial angels. So far away yet also so close in every person’s

imagination. All together like in a beating heart, Nemsket never felt this pulse; he was torn from it

before he could explore the world’s wonders. The young prince that used to see the world that way was

now veiled behind the sorrow and deception of a destructive hatred. The ride from his own home had

left him tired, but still determined. How could he give up when he was so close? He couldn’t wait for

long. Tomorrow, the rehearsal coronation would take place and the princess would begin her political

lessons by the land’s wisest and most fair leaders. That couldn’t happen.

   Years before, when Kenya was little, she had been betrothed to Namsket’s brother Han. Han had loved

her more than life itself. He adorned her with jewels befitting royalty, for that’s what she was. But

Namsket always got the feeling that she never loved Han back. It was a time of great turmoil in the

kingdoms. Now that Kenya was being named future queen, she was free to end her betrothal to Han. She

no longer needed him. Much resistance was coming from the coastal kingdom. A queen was what they were

promised. Namsket also knew that many people in his country and elsewhere had problems with a female

ruler, he himself had no issues with it, but this was a mission of revenge, not sexism.

   Seventeen year old Kenya laughed as music from her fathers announcement party danced out onto the

new growth of the garden. She imagined nymphs, and circle of people around a camp fire. Why couldn’t

she be one of them? She was a princess and no force on earth could change that. Much like Namsket

(that still watched unknown to her in the shadows), she was scared, and felt masked by the assumption

that becoming a queen someday would destroy her own human nature. That was what she was after all, she

was of the species homo sapien, and didn’t want to be given the tasks that were beyond human

capability. Being a queen was exciting and scary at the same time. The weight of the city rested on

her shoulders, and it was a heavy weight. No matter how much she built up her physical strength, no

one she thought could be strong enough to deal with that, no one.

   Kenya lay down and imagined spring time. Those few first breathless weeks after the last snow

always kept her on edge. How the blossoms bloomed in the sun, growing outwards from their earthy womb.

How the days were always warm enough to taste cedar that flouted from the mountain peaks. How music

twirled all around her.

   Kenya remembered running in awe through glades of barriers, collecting anything that she could. She

stuffed herself with nature’s grandeur and loved feeling the fresh sweetness run down her throat. She

loved staring big-eyed at the ancient redwoods, and watching a brush fire illuminate the night. It

created a rhythm; she would lie in the meadows and watch time turn. The cycles of the world go on,

ever growing, as life, death, and rebirth happened right in front of her eyes. Like a flowing stream,

or a flower. And at noon her brothers would take her hunting. The arrow so precisely hit its target.

The strength of the animal’s spirit was the same spirit that she felt tonight.  She remembered her

brother Micas standing over the animal’s body praying.

   “Oh strong animal, our hunger is great, but so was your swiftness. I honor your sacrifice. May you

live on in the lives and hearts you have touched? Thank you, little brother.” He would say.

   A phoenix cry broke the dream and Kenya twirled to see a blanket go over her head. Suddenly the

world seemed black, and all she could feel was strong arms dragging her. Then, there was the rocking

of a fast gallop that took her away into the night.

   Kenya awoke to a raggedy dungeon like room. The stench was overwhelming, it was like rotting flesh.

A small light filtered in through the sludge. Kenya was surprised to see the profile of a man standing

there. What surprised her more was the sense of weakness, she had been drugged.

   “Where am I? Namsket, is that you?” She recognized him from countless journeys to see him and Han.

   “Welcome to my dungeon Kenya, are the accommodations to your liking?” He seemed to chuckle a bit.

   “Namsket, this isn’t funny!! Please, what use can I be to you? You have no purpose for me here, let

me go!! Honestly, I thought….” Namsket interrupted, his tone was a piercing sharp pang that seemed to

resonate throughout Kenya’s body.

   “Han is dead!!!!!!!!!!!!” He shot.

                                           ~~*~~

    Indeed, Han had died only two weeks ago. He was in a depression and was unable to resist when

sirens came to claim him. There is nothing like a heart broken man that makes one susceptible to

sirens. Han’s heart must have been like an empty hole. This was Namsket’s plan. Since it was Kenya

that rejected Han and drove him into a depression and ultimately killed him, Han thought of nothing

besides her. With her gone it was enough to send him to his death. It was Kenya’s fault in Namsket’s

eyes, and Kenya flinched as Namsket described the accident.

    “You think that I had something to do with this!?” Kenya was shocked.

    “I have accepted Han’s death, but I won’t accept sitting idle and not avenging it somehow. The one

responsible should be punished for their crime. You know nothing about me, or why I’ve brought you

here.” Namsket raised his voice in a frustrated fury.

    “Your mad, let me go!!!!!!!!!!!!” Kenya was annoyed; Namsket still wouldn’t give her a straight

answer. She knew that he might never.

    “Maybe, Princess, but I loved my brother; believe that if you don’t have the capacity to believe

anything else. I should make you pay for this murder, but I am not that crazy.”

   “Want to bet,” Kenya thought.

   “I will give you a choice, either you leave and never return, or you marry me and I will

forgive you for killing him.”

    “How about you let me go and I press charges for kidnapping. I’ve questioned your mental capacity

before, but now……….” Namsket strode across the dusty cold rock floor and perched himself at the end of

Kenya’s bed.

    “And how about you shut up, or I won’t give you such a generous offer.”

    “Your idea of generosity is to keep me against my will, and force me into marriage on the basis of

an unproven murder that I didn’t even commit. You hate me and I know it.” Kenya said ranting.

    “I don’t hate you Kenya, and I have no problem with you ruling your own kingdom.” His voice was

low and echoed eerily off the dungeon walls. Kenya felt weak, Namsket felt guilty. “But you killed my

brother, and that’s that.”

    “I never killed Han!” She said half to herself,

    Namsket heard what she said and echoed back. “Maybe not directly, I’ll give you that.”

    “If you deny me my freedom, I will kill you. Once this drug clears, I will slay your wickedness.”

Namsket said nothing else; he just ran a hand through the waves of her black hair. The threads coursed

through his finger like rivers, and then he left, leaving Kenya in a constraining darkness.

    Time slipped away like sand in an hour glass. Each minute became an hour, and an hour a day. Kenya

felt like she was in a canoe coursing down a one way river, trapped, the current too strong to stop.

The images of cherry blossoms and a meadow in spring time started to go. The little girl who stared in

awe of the tallest tree grew old in her vision. Wrinkles took over her face and soon blinded her from

Kenya’s sight. Never again would she see that little girl, who was swallowed by the darkness

(metaphorically speaking) and soon it threatened to swallow Kenya as well.

    Reality was a generalization, it didn’t exist. All in Kenya’s world that existed was the darkness

and the cool breeze that chilled her. She married Nemsket for her own safety; there were a lot of

security guards that would thankfully beat her up if she got out of line. Day after day she sat in the

filth and mud of Namsket’s dungeon. Her world started to dissolve in front of her face. The black hair

that used to fall down her back like a mountain cascade started to fall out. It littered the floor of

the room as if there was a great black cobweb on the ground, which stung with cold.

    Namsket sat in the sun room of his father’s palace. The king was deadly sick and Namsket watched

his body shrivel. He thought of the lovely Kenya he had imprisoned downstairs. Guilt seized his heart,

but why? She killed my brother, he could have been a great king, and I would honor him and serve him.

He would lead this country from ruin, but that was taken from him, it was stolen from him, from me….by

her. No matter how Namsket tried to give Kenya a second thought, it was the same. She killed Han;

nothing he could do was changing that.

   Fumeus, Namsket’s little brother approached him with a hung head.

   “Dear Brother, for you are the only one that I have left. Our father gets more ill every second. I

beg you, Kenya could help him. I know for a fact that she is well practiced in the art of medicine,

and I see her suffer every day. Our parents would not have wanted this. Han would not have wanted the

woman he loved put in such torture.” Fumeus (Fume) spoke with such purity, his red hair falling down

his face. Namsket handed him a bowl of soup for Kenya. It had a sleeping drug in it that weakens

Kenya, this was to reassure Namsket he would not be hurt by the princess. It reassured that Kenya was

not dangerous, and could not hurt him.

   Namsket would make it so dark and stinky in that room that the hidden queen eventually grew

accustomed to it. She became almost nocturnal, as she could not stand the light any more. Sometimes

Namsket would spend time there with her, but other times it was just her. She could tell that grieving

Namsket was turning wickeder every day. He was being corrupted by the power to bend Kenya to his will.

Soon she fell to a torpid state, she would not eat the drugged soup that young Fume brought to her,

nor would she sleep a wink at night. For Fume, it was as if she was dying, in a state of endless pain.

She eventually wanted anything that would end her life. Years past, years wasted, and for Fume, it was

hard to watch her suffer. Namsket didn’t even care anymore.

   Young Fume wanted to do something, but was trapped by the bonds of humanity, and a brother that

wouldn’t lighten up.


                                        ~*~



   A male Phoenix bolted through the sky in raging fire. Below him the land glimmered. Sunrays came

like Apollo’s fiery chariot across the sea. With such grace, such skill did it rise.  Golden spouts of

water reflected the sun as if the world were made of liquid fire. Scorch (the Phoenix) let the cool

breeze whip through his feathers and watched as the excess flame burst behind him as if he was a comet

with a tail.

   Scorch whipped in and out, diving through the sky, he enjoyed this chance to fly. Scorch is a shape

shifter who transforms his appearance. As a human his world is constant formality, even more stifling

than the heat he produced.   But as a phoenix, he could twirl and even the farthest gleaming star he

felt able to reach. The sky was not the limit, rather the starting place.


   Below the swirling bird was a rock where the siren basked in the morning sun. This ones name was

Alma, and she was tired. It was her job to watch out for passing fishermen. Not to seduce, but rather

to protect herself. After the prince had been taken by her more vengeful sister Icicle, the entire

kingdom did not trust her or any of her kin. They were written up as demons, embodiments of all that

was evil. Though, when Alma saw her kin falsely accused and left to rot with a fisherman’s hook stuck

through their bellies, she wondered which of the two races should be considered evil. Men and women

stopped listening to the siren’s music because they were scared to hear it.  Life is everything, and

sometimes you have to feel the bad stuff, but humanity had forgotten that. They take the ocean for

granted, and by so doing, mute the song of the sirens, which leaves them emotionless and vulnerable.

They think that sirens and the heartache of feelings are evil. Than what is good and what is evil,

those big questions churned in her head. She was just making herself confused. It was true that her

kind weren’t angels, but they weren’t demons either.

   The water below was chilling cold. Alma knew this, water was a healer, a nurturer, but it also took

away life. She was just about to lay down her head when an icy voice split the air. It was almost

cruel; Alma had almost been able to relax. And of course it was her sister Icicles that disturbed her

sleep. Alma didn’t want to hear it, whatever it was.

   “Okay, I fell asleep on the job, what’s the rub?” Alma said yawning.

   “Oh I’m not mad at you…….right now…….but I just came to inform you that Scorch has arrived.

Honestly, I am hurt by these assumptions you make Alma.”

   “There is a reason I make assumptions, Icicles. Now, is Urunica in the cave with him?”

   “Yeah, let us get going before I actually do start to get mad at you.” Alma shrugged and flopped

into the water. The chill shocked her body and she wanted to get back on the nice sun warmed rock,

then again, phoenixes are fire birds. All of the sirens couldn’t wait to see Scorch.

   There remained a private little grotto off the side of a cliff. It was almost like a beaver’s dam

where you either needed to swim underneath the grotto or climb through the skylight. The three sirens

swam under and it was no problem for Scorch to fly above and in. Once inside, the mermaids made a

circle around Scorch, who was perched on a rocky ledge looking over the cavern’s pool. They looked as

if a congregation listening eagerly to a wise preacher. The bird didn’t speak, and Urunica got

impatient with the silence but tried to be as polite as possible.

   “Why don’t you come in the water with us Scorch?” She asked.

   “I don’t want to get my feathers wet; I am a bird of fire after all. You guys do live in water.”

   “C’mon, we won’t look.” Icicles twirled her hair in her hands and looked flirtatiously up at

Scorch. “I promise.” Scorch wanted to roll his eyes, but decided better of it.

   “Alright, just don’t try anything.” At this, Alma wanted to roll her eyes as well.

   The three women looked away. Scorch shed his feather and watched them fall in the water. When the

ripples cleared he noticed his human reflection. The cold water was a startle, like someone dropping

ice down your shirt when you’re sleeping. Scorch blew some luke-warm bubbles into the pool. Alma

turned and giggled.  Scorch was starting to regret coming here, then again, he did need the sirens

help. Sitting before the girls was a red-headed boy around the age of 16. His body was robust, but his

face was soft and round. It had a good expression on it though; it looked like someone that was polite

yet desperate. Alma thought he looked like he was caught somewhere between boyhood and manhood. The

body of this guy was well sculpted and strong like a man, but his eyes were sad, innocent, like a

child. Maybe he was a warrior perhaps; he looked like someone who had something to fight for. A dagger

hung from his ankle, where the talons had been.

   “What brings you here young man?” Uruncia giggled, Scorch smiled.

   “I’ve come to be in more, civilized company.” He said, and then his tone turned serious. A look of

melancholy grew in his wet yellow eyes. “The King is holding a woman hostage. Her name is Kenya.”

   “Are you referring to the Princess Kenya? I heard she died, her father was frantically looking for

her, but he finally figured she was dead. There was a big funeral type thing too. Do you mean she’s

actually alive?” Alma almost gasped.

   “Yes, she is also pregnant, but getting weaker each day. I don’t think Kenya can survive the burden

that the next 9 months will bring. Nemsket is also becoming more brutal, he’s absolutely mad. With his

father in frail health, I’m afraid that Namsket’s ego will be out of control if he’s named king. No

telling what he might do to Kenya, and the baby.”

   “We’ll devise a plan then. Scorch is going to do the old damsel in distress thing.” Icicles said,

somewhat serious.

   “Believe me,” Scorch said. “She’s no damsel, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t help her. And

that’s what we’re going to do.” They continued to construct a plan. One that may be the only salvation

Kenya has.
                                                                   ~*~


   That very night, lights dimmed in the coastal city, but one room was

illuminated. Grieving brothers huddled over the near corpse of the old king. They watched as the

wheels turned, and the old man’s life ebbed away. Seeing his father on the death bed, Namsket knew

that he was to be the new king. Now, all sense had left him. He was scared of what was to come, what

kind of king he would be. Would he be like his father was, or would he be an ignorant king? One power

hungry and disconnected, not even if Han magically arose from the dead would bring the Namsket back to

his senses. But Han was gone, and now so was his father. The city fell upon his decisions, and Namsket

didn’t like having that kind of pressure.

   Kenya was happy that Nemsket became king, even if it meant watching him

dance in splendor of the very thing that she was robbed of. That dream of sitting in the throne of

Metros was now far away. She hardly remembered feeling nervous and breathless as she stared at the big

chair that she knew she couldn’t fill in more than one way. Instead of the dirty dungeon at least, now

Nemsket had a lavish bedding chamber for her. It was in the tallest tower, stuffed with antique

furniture, a stove (firewood was brought to her every now and then), a wardrobe, and especially a big

window that overlooked the sea. She spent hours staring out it, watching the waves lap against the

shore again and again. Kenya felt for the first time in 1 year and 4 months, healthy. The sun heated

her face and warmed the stone room. The spray of the sea filled her nose with scent and her body with

salt. Kenya was in a healthier environment for her baby, which was enough for her.

   “Isn’t it a beautiful day!?” Nemsket’s voice was heard behind her. She

turned to see him taking a wiff of sea air. “Especially since now I am king. You are a queen Kenya,

isn’t this what you’ve always wanted.”

   “I wanted to be queen of my own kingdom Nemsket, not to be trapped. No one here even

knows I exist, let alone that I’m married to you. How can I be a queen if no one knows I exist?” Kenya

could barely speak to him, let alone look him in the eye.

   “You still haven’t gotten over that have you? My god, how single-minded can one woman

get?” Namsket’s inner demons were taking a toll on him. He was becoming shorter tempered.

   “Than why haven’t you killed me yet Namsket?” She was playing every card that she could;

but it was smarter just to let it go, who knows what could happen if Namsket took her question

seriously.

   “You carry my son, and I don’t kill for pleasure. You are very beautiful, as well, when

you’re not being a snip.” Namsket tried to stay calm.

   “Don’t say such nice things to me; you’ll give me a big head. Not that

anyone could beat your record though.”  That was the only insult that Kenya could think of, and it

wasn’t even a good one. Nemsket was boiling over, but he couldn’t let himself hurt her. To avoid such

a tragedy, Nemsket left. Kenya just sat there in despair.


                                        ~*~


   Spring came to the coastal kingdom. Winter released its grip on the land and

slipped away to the north. New life sprang from the ashes of the old dead plants and rejoiced in the

glories that life has and can have for everyone looking for it. But even if it was right before her

eyes, Kenya couldn’t see it. The springtime meadows of her past were lost to her, even if it was only

a few stories below her, one awesome jump away.

   In the eternal darkness of her solitude, new life was brought to Kenya. A

baby was born; he was beautiful as an open rose, and as vulnerable as a lamb taking its first steps in

the aura of spring sweetness. She named the beaming baby boy Benicus (Ben) a name that meant “angel

born of ruins”, for these are ruins she thought. Kenya looked around at the small room in which she

confided. The boy was too innocent to be kin to his father’s plight. Even if the same blood ran in

Ben’s veins, he was innocent. For when babies are born, they are like little lambs. Unburden by the

harmful acts of others, Benicus was the heir to Namsket’s kingdom, he was pure potential energy.

Throughout his life, Benicus would have to meld that into kinetic energy, like a roller coaster going

down a long hill. Ben was at the top, the first original clean slaight. Kenya sensed that Ben would do

great things, and she loved him despite who his father was.  He was her angel, the blossom of spring

that would save her from ultimate destruction. Ben gave her a meaning in her life, since her dreams

had been stolen from her.

   Kenya didn’t know how to be a good mother, she was never taught

the domestic arts. And being sheltered from any formal education, she tried to cling on to the

remaining knowledge she had. But she was only 17 when she was abducted, and now at 22, she struggled

to be a good mom. She wasn’t sure if he cried for food or that he needed his loin cloth changed.

Sometimes it was just not apparent what this baby was up to.

   Ben never seemed to care that she was poor and imprisoned. He

would cuddle up to her in the night even if she was cold. He would also stare out at the sea like his

mother. But when he stared, he wasn’t hopeless or defeated. He didn’t even seem like he wished he were

somewhere else, it was a stare of silent knowing. The baby looked as if he knew that he and his mother

were going to escape. This knowledge gave Kenya hope; even if she was she was sure in her logical mind

that she would probably die here. One is never dead, until they are forgotten. Ben would never forget

her, and so she stayed positive in the bleakest hour, thanks to him.

   Kenya’s happiness was short-lived though. Invaders from the north

swamped the country and cast Namsket’s kingdom into a death grip. Swarms of people looked like flies

from Kenya’s tower window. She watched as brave men and women’s lives taken right before her eyes as

she sat passively in the tower. They rode through a helpless haze to the death that awaited them.

Kenya remembered how she would practice her sword fighting, how the swiftness of the sword came

splintering against a tree. These invaders were not trees. They had blood rather than sap inside them,

and too much of that was being spilled. Red rivers coursed to a now sea that was filled with death.

Corpses littered were meadow grass once stood. Kenya wished for two things, one- that she could fight

for her country (even if she didn’t choose it, it was her country), two- that she could fall go back

into the old dismal place where she came from. Maybe it would spare Ben the horrible gore. She did not

want her son exposed to all this violence, will he live his life in fear. She did not want him to

suffer as she did.

   Namsket ran to meet the invaders with all that was left of his military

strength. He thought that killing these men was the same as killing his own inner demons, that they

were a target of anger rather than him. The solders were walking into incredible odds, and hope had

vanished when the first drop of blood fell on the land. These men were walking to their death, but had

faith in their leader, false faith perhaps. Every man or women that died easily enough with just the

swing of a sword, or a shot of an arrow had once been a baby, just like Ben, and had had a mother.

They had gown up through all the struggles of life, only to be rewarded with a merciless death.

Everybody has to die, but no one deserved to have their like taken from them.

   Kenya turned to see Fume at the door with her soup. His eyes reflected

sadness, but she did not question him.

   “My brother will be here shortly, he requests you drink this soup.” Fume

said his words without so much as looking at her.

   "Tell him that I do not wish to eat his drugged soup. Please tell him

that I am no longer his slave.” Kenya said.

   “You can tell me yourself, if I am not intruding. I promise you that the

soup is not drugged. What can I gain from making you weak, if you are, then you can’t take care of

Ben?” It was Namsket who snuck up behind her. His words seemed genuine, but there was still something

in his eye. Kenya could see that there was coldness; Namsket was like the spring that was slowly

turning to winter, and like the late old king, he died somehow. Namsket was just as frail and draining

as his father was on his death bed. But he would not die for a long time, and for a long time Kenya

would be subjected to his icy domain. “Leave!!!!!!!” He motioned to Fume to leave. Like a domestic

slave rather than a brother, Fume bowed his head and quietly left the room. “Tell me, have you been

melancholy?” He was almost snub when he said it; Kenya thought that it was obvious that she was.

   “That’s a question that you don’t need to ask. The answer is right in front

of you. Now if you don’t have any thing else to say, then leave.” She lowered her eyes and her tone

softened. “Please.”

   Namsket left.


                                            ~*~



   Kenya stared out the window at the war going on. More and more people died

each second, but not her. She lingered here with her baby, not knowing what to do, alone. As night

approached the cold that racked the room made baby Ben twitch in his bassinette.  Kenya tried to pull

the pathetic lace blanket that she had over her feet. Ice seemed to take over her body. But Kenya knew

that she had been in a frozen torpid state ever since she was abducted by Namsket. At their wedding,

she had stood still as the marriage priest had married them, and Kenya knew it was a secret wedding.

No one knew that she was Namsket’s wife. In fact he could be cheating on her and it would not be wrong

in the eyes of the people. Then why doesn’t he marry one of them, and leave me alone. Then she

remembered (as if she could forget) Han. He was the reason she had endured this, she almost wished

that she had just married the dude and avoided all of this rubbish.

   The night was alive with the tortured sounds of people dying, swords

clashing, and bombs being sent flying into the night. The explosions drained into the room. They

looked like fireworks, but Kenya knew that the invaders would not find the colorful lights quite as

amusing. They every day saw their kinsman die. But that was the price you pay for wandering onto

another country’s land and trying to conquer it, especially a kingdom with an emotionally unsteady

king, a man that imprisoned his own wife. Mist hung in the forest, casting an eerie aura, much like

the beautiful red brick tiles back in her beloved Metros. She missed her city, her father, and her

destiny as a queen.

   Out in the distance was a small speck of light that appeared to be floating.

It looked like a canon ball that had just been fired, but then again she knew of no canon fires that

stayed in the air so long. And if she looked closer it appeared as just a ball of flame…….and was

flapping?!! Kenya had thought she was going to go insane a few times in her past with Namsket, but

this was unprecedented. Okay, Kenya, you’ve finally lost it, then she realized that the ball of flame

was headed her direction. Kenya didn’t know weather to duck or to shout for joy at the apparently

relief from the cold. What was worst, being burned to a crisp or freezing to death?

   “Hello ma’am. How is your evening so far?” The ball of fire said. Kenya saw

that it was a phoenix.

   “I’m Cold!” Kenya offered; she didn’t know how to talk to a bird that could

burst out in flames whenever it wanted. That particular lesson was never taught in her social

etiquette class. “This isn’t the best time to be talking to a phoenix. My brother in law Fume will be

coming with my meal any second, this might seem a little suspicious.

   “I hope you don’t mind me invading your space at this obscene hour, it’s not

like me to barge in like this. I know your name, but I would be rude not to introduce myself. The

name’s Scorch.” He seemed so refined. A bird that not only spoke, but he had manners, Kenya felt in

the middle of the twilight zone.

   “It’s a pleasure to meet you….ah….sir.” Scorch raised his head. “But if it’s

not rude, I’d like to know, why you’re here?” She stayed as calm as she could and tried to be as

polite as she could. Oh, great she thought I am being out mannered by a bird.

   “I just wish you would take this piece of parchment.” Some paper appeared in

front of her. “I won’t stay long, but I just thought you could use some help.” With that he flew into

the room and went immediately to Ben’s cradle. The paper was a death certificate, not just that, but a

personalized memorial letter written by the king of Metros, her father. It read:

   The entire kingdom I know feels the same guilt, despair and

regret that I do. I would not want or wish this upon any parent to go through what I have. Kenya was a

great leader, a kind person and a wonderful daughter.  And even as my heart is ripped from my torso, I

can’t help being proud of the kingdom. Seeing the way we have grouped together to search for her shows

me the caring and tenderness that I am honored to be a part of. Kenya slipped beyond my grip, she

vanished into time, but sooner or later I knew that she would have to leave me one way or another.

This city has lost a great monarch, and a great person. But this place will remain strong, and our

government will find an answer. The most important thing in this kingdom is the people, and it is the

people that I know will find a way. I would give anything to know what became of her, but for now-

rest in peace my darling, for you will not be forgotten.


                                The King~~~~~~~

   Kenya almost fell over in horror as the pain of loss seared into her soul

for the first time. All the pain that her parents had felt over the last few years came smashing into

her all at once like a tidal wave. How much suffering had she induced on the people she loved, her

father had searched night and day for her and found no clue. And even if he did know what happened to

her, he couldn’t get her back, for she was married to Namsket. To her father, she was dead.

   Kenya wished she was dead, for that’s how she felt 90% of the time, but

she was not physically, and so the pain of life still inflicted her now more than ever. If she was

dead then her parent’s suffering would not be a lost cause, there would be a reason for a funeral.

Most of all, Kenya would not have to sit and watch, knowing that she was presumed gone by the rest of

the world. She was no longer alive in the eyes of the people who loved her. But then she switched her

attention to the phoenix that a second ago had gone over to her child.

   Scorch had fed Ben and was now humming a sweet lullaby to him. His

bright yellow eyes shone as he realized that she was looking at him.

   “So, I hope that the parchment was of some help to you. The world is

harsh Kenya, but there is too much majesty in it to write it off as evil. You are strong, and I know

your history. That is why I think you deserve a break every now and again.” Scorch looked more honest

than anyone that Kenya had seen in a while. “Soon I must go, but I believe that you especially deserve

someone to understand you for once. Someone warm, someone who cares. Please let me help you, I have

friends that live in the water and we all think that you deserve better than this tiny room. Remember

I am your friend.” With that he took off and flew out the window to the blood-drenched sky.

   Kenya saw him fly into the night, he looked only like a small speck of

light, and for the first time in 4 years Kenya felt like someone cared about her, she had allies, and

it was nice. The coldness of loneliness melted away like ice on the first day of spring. Sweetness

filled the hollowness of her body and she heard an ancient rhythm that had long been lost to her in

the abyss where she lived. Was she going home, maybe, but for now it was just good to have a friend.

   Scorch came back the next day, and this time he had a piece of silver clenched in

his beak. It was soft and round with the picture of a full moon on the front. A beautiful gem like

amethyst shone in the sun. Kenya really didn’t know what it was for, but she liked the little gift. It

was shiny, and Kenya enjoyed making her-self beautiful. For the first time in a long time she felt

like she belonged somewhere. Kenya felt like warm in this endless winter.

   Scorch rapidly came and cared for Ben, In fact, Benicus’s first word was

“fee-nix.” Kenya thought that Scorch loved the baby as much as she did. He had tenderness in his eyes,

and a nurturing pleasant look. But in Scorch’s heart beamed a passion and a will that not even the

bravest warrior could match. Bravery is something that we all want but that none of us know what it

is. If you slay a lot of people in war, how are you brave? Think about what you have accomplished,

don’t know, well you’ve ended many innocent lives and gained nothing. I would acutely go as far as to

say that cowardice is not the lack of bravery, but rather the fear and unwillingness to stand up for

what you know is right. Someone with courage is someone who stretches constraining boundaries without

hurting any one. Sometimes boundaries are good. They protect us, and keep us safe, but boundaries that

are not for the good of the person are constraining. You don’t have to smother someone to make sure

they’re safe, but to have no boundaries is to be vulnerable, you need balance. I’m getting off topic,

any way; Scorch was brave to be standing up against Namsket.

   For about 28 more days Scorch returned to be a nanny of sorts for Kenya. He

stopped coming after that, and Kenya was worried that he gave up on her. She didn’t know if she could

handle the loss of a friend. She had seen too much death out her window, and she had no one in her

life that cared. The world had abandoned her, and she didn’t want to have that happen again. But

Scorch did return, he came but did not go to Ben, he did not have any gems for her either.

   “Princess, I’m sorry I have not returned to you in the last few days. It was

rude of me to do so, I am sorry if you thought I abandoned you for I would never do such a thing.” The

phoenix was very sincere in his words. “Please forgive me, but I have been consulting with a friend of

mine, we want to save you. The silver moon pieces I gave you fits unto a necklace. Put it on and jump

out your window, I will be waiting for you and I have somewhere to take you in case Nemsket sends a

search party after you. Your going home Kenya, I promise to take you.”

   “That means jumping out a window.” Kenya cried; a smug and confident look

appeared on Scorch’s bird face.

   “Exactly!!”

   The day after Scorch came Kenya sat with her lute and played a sweet

springtime song for Ben. The music filled the room with a melody that bounced off the walls. Her

fingers were skilled and clever, and the beat that she made was precise. Ben seemed to like the music

and he played in the vibrations that it made. Kenya struggled to keep up tempo with the written words

on the paper in front of her. If she missed her timing the whole piece would be thrown off and ruined.

Obviously the toddler playing around the room was oblivious to the amount of practice and talent that

the piece of music took. She saw Ben playing and remembered when her mother played the lute, the trees

and all of nature were her harmony. That little girl was long dead. She was replaced with a woman who

had a sturdy heart, and a quick mind. The memory and thought bounced in her head just as the music did

against the wall.

   Namsket had not returned for a month, and a while ago Kenya would have

thought this as a wonderful development. Now she had Ben, and it wasn’t surprising that at the rare

moments that Kenya needed him Namsket was gone. He seemed to disintegrate out of her mind, more ghost

than actual man. Now isn’t that always the case it seems, isn’t that what we are afraid of. What Kenya

didn’t know was how much Namsket felt guilty. He locked himself in his room and didn’t speak to

anyone; icy solitude crept over him in a most diabolical way. He became an abstract of himself, almost

the way that Kenya imagined him being, and a ghost.

   The 28 silver pieces of metal mocked Kenya. Jump out the window, that’s

what Scorch has told her. It was insane, why was Scorch asking her to commit suicide. The sweet aroma

of a fire burning cedar twirled through Kenya’s tiny prison, the sound of flute music from an old wise

man seared into her head. Home she thought as the images of starry skies and the desert sunset over

the mountains started to come back. Every night at home, Kenya would stare out the window at the

forest in the mountains shadow. The smells and sounds were as real as day and deep in her heart she

knew that Scorch would never deceive her.

   Reluctantly Kenya reached for the charm necklace. Each of the phases of

the moon was bright with their amethyst. She fallowed the phases with her eye, it turned from full in

the center, to 4 quarters to half and so on to new moon and all the way back to full. She as much as

anyone knew the cyclical attributes of her favorite celestial object, the moon. As a girl she would

document it day after day, she saw how it waxed and waned as it circled her planet along with the

smaller moon. She was always astounded.

   Staring out the window she saw a tree. So radiant it seemed, like the one

that had stopped her blade so many years ago. Trees are mystical. They either reach down to the earthy

womb of the planet which gives us all strength and passion. The fire of each of our soul is manifested

here, and the soul of ancestors that we can place our root. Or the trees reach for the stars and watch

as planets and moons twirl and dance like spirits. It was pulsating lust of atoms, and the passion of

the swirling gases, the regenerative properties of stars that made them twirl in orbit. Kenya really

wanted to sour like the wind through the star-reaching trees. She wanted to take Benicus and fly to

Metros and feel free once more. The constraint and the formality of each day had nearly caused her to

go crazy. Every crack in the wall had been memorized, and she thought maybe that she deserved to fly

once more and to see something new.

   Taking a deep breath, Kenya closed her eyes and put on the necklace. She

only felt a gush of wind, but when she opened her eyes to see that she was levitating in mid-air. She

really could fly, it was not just a myth, and if it weren’t for the footsteps that were coming up the

staircase, Kenya would have flown, then and there.

   “Kenya, I am victorious.” Namsket was ecstatic, and his voice was low like a

commanding general. “Our armies have taken the rivals.” He boasted “We will send them back to their

own country. Isn’t it wonderful?” Kenya was just glad the war is over, but she could care less about

her husband’s ‘achievement.’

   “I am happy at your triumph, but I am very disappointed with the neglect that

you have shown me and your only son.” Kenya barely looked at him, she was pretending to be writing,

but she was really staring at the necklace in her hands.

   “You don’t get it do you, I have beaten the invaders, I really can be a king

now.” Namsket had watched his father tremble in fear of invaders, and for a long time Namsket had

feared for the same thing. He didn’t want to fallow in his fathers footsteps, and in Han’s. The people

needed to know that their new leader was not a coward and would not abandon them in their time of

need. Now that the war was over, Namsket had his rightful place as monarch. The only task that seemed

to be eluding him was the fact that his queen was stubborn and seemed not quite as happy as he. He

wanted Kenya to be proud of him for marital reasons unknown.

   “It’s a little hard to be proud of your kidnapper isn’t it?”   Kenya spat. She

never could remember herself being this impatient. She wanted Namsket to go away so she could escape.

He wasn’t going any where, and that’s what frustrated her most.

   “I thought you loved me, Kenya, I thought that you were mine.” Namsket seemed

actually sad. His face shifted downwards and he no longer looked like himself. What had started out as

a victorious feat of military now seemed to be more trivial than a drop of water in a giant rain

storm, and now even the king seemed to fall as if he was not important in any way? What Kenya said

next would determine the rate of his fall, too bad there were to many wrong things to say at that

time.

   “Lets get this straight Namsket, you abducted me, I am not, was not, and will

never be yours.” She stared right into his eyes and felt the rush of fire that seemed to be baking

inside his head. She immediately backed down, she could see that the old Namasket was now gone, and

his inner demons had won. Kenya felt an angry pulse mixed with impatience, mixed with frustration well

up inside her. It was a deadly combination, like toxic chemicals that made her explode. Then she

realized this was the first time she had really stood up to her husband……it felt good.

   Namsket felt himself loosen and let go as he stood over his wife. He

couldn’t control himself any longer and was ranting like a maniac.

   “Listen to me Kenya; I can’t take it any longer. I can’t believe that

after all this time that you pick the moment that I’m most happy to bring me back down. Why can’t you

let me be happy for me for once.” He gave a big whip of his hand. The pain seized Kenya’s cheek as she

tumbled to the ground in defeat. “I know I’ve abducted you, I know I’ve kept you prisoner, but after

all these years I thought that you’d understand by now. But you don’t understand anything do you” His

face flushed in anger. “I hope my son is not learning bad habits from you, he is to be my heir and if

he has you as an example, then he will become nobody.” Right before her eyes Namsket grabbed Ben and

disappeared.  All that could be heard was baby cry fading down the stairs and fading from Kenya’s

reach. Her face pure white, and her heart bleeding, Kenya used her last energy reserves to push her

numb body over to the window.

   The air hung in stillness as men gathered their gear onto the ship and prepared to set sail. The

primeval sea sang with the mist of the ancestral spirits waiting in calm serenity to carry Kenya’s

only son across to the ocean expanse. Dazed and confused, Kenya was too broken to weep, and the heart

of time stood still. She would never be able to cross the sea, never be able to get her son back even

if she did manage to escape Namsket’s vengeful grip. There was no hope left in the country. Like Ben,

it retreated to the horizon.


                                          ~~*~~


   Dawn broke over the valiant sea. Rays of gold lit up the

tallest room in the tallest tower. There, remnants of a once great princess could be seen barely

hanging on in the dark abyss that had become her heart. Namsket had not returned, but she knew that he

would, and when he did he would kill her. He had already taken away her dreams, her dignity, and now

her son. What else could he possibly take than her life? Kenya didn’t know, but she was glad to give

it, for it wasn’t a life at all anymore. Being burned at the stake or being hanged, or even

decapitated at her husband’s pleasure was a joyful passing compared to some. When she died, she will

welcome it with open arms. Namsket took her son, and she would probably never see him again. Nothing,

not even flying out of there could ease that pain.

   “Kenya, are you okay?” Scorch appeared at the window, he was beautiful in the

sunlight.

   “He took Ben; I’d rather die than face that fact for eternity.” Kenya slumped, a

sword by her side dangled awkwardly. Scorch hoped she wasn’t thinking what he thought she was

thinking.

   “You can’t die Kenya, think about Metros. Since they thought you were dead the

kingdom has been in turmoil. What would happen if you really were gone, than there would be no way to

fix all that. You’re the missing piece in the puzzle Kenya; you can lead Metros into the future. If

you be yourself, then being remembered will fallow.  We are standing at the end of something, and the

beginning of something else. That’s how life goes; you’ve gone the out in the world, now you need to

have the strength to go home.” Scorch flew over to her and looked her straight in the eye. “If you

don’t help, than this music that you made in the world will die along with you. So many lives depend

on yours, the destiny that you make for yourself is still out there. No one is dead until they are

forgotten, now go out there and make you known. C’mon, the only thing you have to fear is fear

itself.”

   “What about my son, I can’t abandon him?”

   “If you die than you will really abandon him, and it’s not fair to Ben if you

give up on him by letting yourself die. At least if you live with the hope, then you’ll have a chance

to find him someday. It’s your choice Kenya, either you admit defeat the way you have in the past, or

you get out of here and live. I know it’s hard, and you don’t have to go it alone, I’m here, and I’ll

help you. You choose your destiny, you choose what will happen. Believe and go for it, it’s your will,

not your fate that will save you. On the other hand, if you buy this hopeless story of loss, than it

will keep you from seeing the beauty in people, and the strength in yourself.” Kenya started to weep,

she knew he was right, but she didn’t entirely want to believe it.

   “What beauty, how can I! Namsket is evil.”

   “No Kenya, he did evil, that doesn’t mean that he is evil, he’s hurting too.

You’ve got to trust the world, and be able to play in the darkness, not be absorbed by it. It is your

compassion and strength that makes you different from him and you got to use that strength to the

fullest if you want to succeed. I know that your human and no one can be perfect. The natural is the

supernatural, and better. Love is the most natural thing of all, tap in to that, and even the smallest

person can do great things. So Kenya, what’s your choice?”

   Kenya stared down at the moon necklace in her hand, than

back at Scorch. She gave a nod, then handed him a note.

   “Take this to my father, please.” The note read.

   Father, I have missed you

while we’ve been apart. I can honestly say that I don’t have a lot of lime to explain, but you must

act quickly. I was kidnapped by the king Namsket who has taken me prisoner. Please, send your bravest

soldiers and meet me by the coast. I can’t wait to see you.

   Love, and love to mother Kenya.

   Namsket dashed up the stairs in an angry rage to get his wife,

but he arrived just in time to see her fly out the window and into the desert sun.

   Kenya hovered above the ground waiting to fall at any moment.

She awkwardly soured through the sky as Scorch whipped around, of course he was doing this longer than

she was, but still it made quite an impression.

   Only about 30 seconds ago Scorch had been trying to convince Kenya to fly when footsteps echoed up

the stairway. Without thinking, Kenya had gone to the window and looked the drop before her.

Looming below was a cavernous abyss. The drop had to be at least 20 yards

down. If this didn’t work, Kenya would fall and die at impact. Even though she had wanted to die right

before Scorch came, it was different when you actually face it. No one really wants to commit suicide,

but there are a lot of people that try. Most people mistake these kinds of thoughts and behaviors as

selfish or stupid. But the real fact is that most kids just already feel dead, like no one loves them.

 And the thing to do instead of dismissing kids, (which may force them lower) be a person that

understands them. Try to create a ladder in which they can pull themselves up. And Kenya remembered

staring right in the face of death. She was about to jump out a window. In her heart she knew that not

trusting people had landed her here in the first place, and now she had to trust Scorch for better or

for worst, so she jumped.

   The feeling of flying was sensational to say the least, even this

author cannot find the words to describe the different emotional and physical forces working on a

person at this time. The necklace lit up as Kenya’s eyes shone with delight. She flew so high and so

fast that she believed the stars were right next to her. The sensation was like swimming in air, there

were no star she couldn’t reach and no canopy that she couldn’t dwarf.  Even the tricky Scorch was

impressed with how much she took to flying. But compared to her old life, this was a piece of cake. It

was like all the pain and death that she felt inside melted away in an instant. She was suddenly free

to do whatever she wanted, and the grayness she felt rolled away and made room for a totally new

person. And the confidence, with the land spread out beneath her and the sun not to far away, Kenya

had been released. A slave is not free (even if they are no longer under the control of their master)

until they break free of the heavy weight that kept them down. With the new lightness that Kenya felt,

she didn’t know whether her feet would ever touch the ground again. She had been torpid too long. Now

looking back on it she realized that she had bended to Namsket’s power, which made her just as much a

contributor to her suffering as he was.

   “This way,” Scorch’s head pointed down towered a small grotto on the side of

the cliff. “We’ll be safe down there.”

   “Did you deliver my note?” Kenya screamed through the wind.

   “Yah, I just delivered it.” Scorch shouted back. Kenya was amazed at Scorch’s

efficiency, but when she saw where he was leading her, she gasped in shock.

   “Tell me you’re joking,” Kenya cried. The grotto was not even a crag. Sharp

rocks lined the inside of it; large waves kept smashing into the side. If they flew down there they

would be frapped for sure. Swells and seagulls seemed to guard the entrance and kept spitting

unwelcome sounds. The whole place smelled like rotting fish….and yet…..Kenya smelled something else

laced within the fish…it was women’s perfume. The scent was a surprising twist to the whole ordeal,

but yes it was perfume. And now Kenya saw fish women, they were sirens; Scorch had taken her to see

sirens.
   “Not at all, that’s where we’re going.”

   “Sirens, you’re taking me to sirens?” She said. Scorch knew she was not

pleased.

   “Remember when I told you that I was consulting with some business people to

help you escape?” Scorch tried, flying next to her.

   “Yah, well….. I never thought.” Kenya stammered.

   “Well, there you go. Give them a chance Kenya please, they are not that bad.”

He started to dip towards the skylight entrance.

   “Want to bet?!” Kenya sneered. She had heard too many stories of fisherman

that lost their lives to these creatures.

   The grotto was small yet nicer than the area around it. Alma, Icicles and

Uruncia sat in the center of a small pool in the middle of the cave. Kenya tried to stay as far away

from the hybrids as she could. It was kind of prejudice, but hey; rumors of these women are heard all

over the world and must have had an effect on Kenya.

   “Don’t worry princess, we won’t hurt you.” Alma said kindly as Scorch and

Kenya settled into their spots.

   “You don’t have to be scared of us.” Uruncia added.

   “All the rumors that you heard of our kind are falsehood. Well, maybe

some of it is true, um…….. I mean the part about that is” Icicles stammered in reply.

   “Icicles your not helping.” Her sisters spat at the same time.

   In actuality, the first accounts of sirens are bird women of death. They

were mythological creatures who would sing to lure men to their doom; also they would sit on top of

mountains in battle fields and carry the dead away to the after life. I guess you could say that they

were angles of death. Over time the bird women evolved into singing mermaids. But beyond the limit of

myth and reality, sirens have long sung to us, they represent all that is forbidden, and all that we

want. They sing in almost every culture, and have deep feminine attributes. For years people have

feared the so called “dark side” of feminine power.  Kenya could relate to that, but it wasn’t just

about women. The sea has always been a womb of creation and a place of destruction. People make

themselves feel shallow because many (and I’m just speculating) are scared of their deep emotions,

just like they are scared of the deep ocean. The sea enhances are imagination and sometimes that is

not a good thing. Alma went on explaining this to Kenya and eventually she got accustom to their

presence.

   Scorch watched for a search party as Alma told Kenya the story of a Chinese

mermaid.

   “So you see Kenya, were not completely bad. We may not be angels, but you have

to draw the line somewhere.

   “You can trust us; we’re here to help you.” Icicles said. “And I didn’t mean to

take Han.” Kenya was shocked; this was the siren that had killed Han.

   “Did you kill him?” She asked.

   “No, he came to me desperate asking me to give him the power of breathing

underwater. I never seduced anyone, you see, Han was my pupil; I taught him the magic of the ocean. I

taught him how to grow things with a seed and dirt. He came to realize that the water and the land

could work together. One day he came with wet eyes and a broke heart asking me to take him away, and I

took him far away to the mystery island. He never wanted to be a king, and now he’s living happily

with the sun and rain.”

   It took a while for Kenya to process the whole of what Icicles was saying, some

of it she just didn’t understand. But it’s hard to take someone seriously when they have a big fat

fish tail. Kenya realized that the simplest message was that Han wasn’t dead, she hadn’t killed him,

and Namsket didn’t know. She felt happy and wanted to tell Namsket, but she knew he wouldn’t

understand at first, the loss of a loved one can put you in a pretty bad denial I think.

   Namsket had tried so long to give Kenya the best life that he could do to the

circumstances, but she had resorted to flying away. A rejected king sat in his throne room sobbing.

All that he loved had left him suddenly, even his imagination. Now he was a candle without a flame,

and a candle without a flame is just a ball of wax.  There lived only one person who could give her

that flying power and he was going to pay for this.

   Kenya glanced lovingly at Scorch who was staring off at the castle. He seemed to

be lost in his thought and memories. Kenya knew the feeling, for she many times forgot the difference

between waking world and dreams. She would find herself staring just like he was doing now. Scorch

sensed her eyes on him and turned, the reaction he gave was unexpected, and he sighed.

   “Kenya, I have not been honest with you, what you see before you, well it’s not the

real me.” He looked blankly at her and seemed sad. “And if I might be so forward, I think I’ll get

straight to the point.” Kenya for a second didn’t know what the heck he was talking about. The words

made no sense, but hey what did anymore in her world. She was doubly astounding when Scorch suddenly

burst into flames. Feathers fell into the water and their exes’ heat created a sort of liquid fire.

Below the feathers and red hair was a boyish face that she knew oh to well.

   “As you can see,” the young name said “you have always known me, and I have always

helped you, even when you couldn’t see it. Behind the scenes I have been there.” The teen in front of

her was Namsket’s kin, his little brother Fume. Immediately Kenya jumped to her feet and splashed

Icicles and Uruncia in the process.

   “Fume, why did you never tell me?” She had a melancholy look in her eye. Fume turned

away not wanting to look at her.

   “I’m a shape shifter; I thought that you would trust me more as a phoenix rather

than kin to your kidnapper.” He seemed ashamed, hiding his head in the water. The feeling in the room

changed and everyone stared at the two humans. Kenya reached out and took Fume’s hand in hers. She

felt the heat from his flesh; she felt his pain and his guilt. She saw him sitting day after day

thinking of her suffer, powerless to do any thing. There was a sudden burst of human contact that

reacts when you find someone you care about, and Kenya suddenly felt that she would be happy to die if

that would save Fume. There’s a magical thing when hearts meat hearts and hands hold hands, its more

magical than any spell or super power, and even death itself can fade to just an abstraction. She felt

happy and yet the saddest she ever felt at the same time.

   “Of course not, as long as you keep your heart pure, I’ll always trust you.”

   “Oh how touching!” The mysterious voice was sudden and unexpected. Fume turned

and stared at the lonely face of a soldier. Kenya felt an overwhelming fear.

   “Go!!!!!!!!!” Icicles screamed. She almost fell on the two of them. The

sun-kissed trees flickered with an eerie light and time stopped in its tracks.

   “Put on the necklace Kenya, I’ll be alright.” Scorch yelled.

   “But what are you going to do?” Kenya demanded. Scorch was getting irritable at

the delay, but he said nothing else.

   “Go now!!!!!!!” The guard lunged by and missed Kenya only by an inch. She saw a

dagger lying at the center of the pool and grabbed it before leaving the grotto.

   The guardsman tried to catch the two flying people. That woman was becoming more

of a problem then she was worth, but she was the love of the king, and this guardsman was trained to

do anything his master told him. But he wasn’t trained to deal with phoenixes. And he was defiantly

not trained to deal with sirens. He knew the stories, but these three looked helpless enough.

   “Sing together sisters!” And maybe that was not the case. The music filled the cave

with sweet melody. It twirled in a cloud of smoke and felt like sweet honey. The guards’ man couldn’t

resist and was swept deeper into the grotto. He was going to his ultimate doom.

   Scorch couldn’t remember being so scared. That was a lot seeing that he betrayed

his brother, went to war, and hid in a sirens grotto. This was different; he knew that his brother’s

henchman had bows and arrow. He had even gone hunting with them one year to shoot birds, and he knew

that their aim was deadly. Sure enough, an arrow slipped past his head. That was too close to call and

Scorch knew that next time he wasn’t going to be so lucky. And he wasn’t. In the blink of an eye, an

arrow came with the deadliest aim. It shot the necklace right off Kenya’s neck and she was plummeting

towered the earth. And if their luck couldn’t be any worst, she landed right in front of Namsket.

   “Hello,” he said, “I was looking for you, but it looks like you found me.”

   Scorch watched in horror as his brother’s army took Kenya and bound her

up in chains. He saw her face and how she struggled in pain against the army’s strength. Big arms hid

her from his view and blocked Scorch from flying in and rescuing her. He didn’t know when to strike,

or where for that matter. After all that, Namsket had won.

   Not if I can help it, he thought, but what could he do, he was helpless.

Scorch darted in and stood in front of Namsket, and looked him straight in the eye.

   “That’s a nice little ability you have Kenya, but I don’t remember you

having that before. Please; where did you get the necklace?” Namsket stood over her and watched her

eyes widen as she saw Scorch fly in to save her. Namsket jolted and turned to face him (who had turned

back into Fume).

   “What are you going to do, Scorch?” Namsket laughed. “Are you going to burn

me to death?”

   “Let her go, Namsket. I have already risked enough to save her. I’m not

going to let you take her, not now.”

   “You’re my brother, and you betrayed me.” He scowled.

   “That may be, but you tortured her and took away everything that made her

happy. You took life away, I’m only doing what’s just.” Scorch seemed so noble confident, but Namsket

wasn’t easily scared off.

   “You will pay for your betrayal.”

   “Not if I can help it.” Fume lunged at his brother with a hidden blade, the

strike nearly slashed Namsket around the neck. Namsket pushed Fume back and cut him in the arm. The

pain was immense, but Fume was not going to back down, being the youngest he was no stranger to being

kicked around by his brother, not this time, not again. Namsket had taken too much from him, and too

much from Kenya. Swords clashed as brother fought brother in a battle that all man-(and women) kind

face in a life time. The bond of brother hood is one that is dealt with great complexity. The metaphor

of brother was used to describe nations, ethnicities and all else in between, a brother was your best

friend and with that came major moral issues. He loved his brother Namsket; he would do anything for

him, why did it have to be him that he was fighting now. Fume turned into Scorch and took to the air.

Kenya saw a guardsman raise is bow and load the arrow. She saw the look on Scorch’s face as flew into

the air.

   Namsket fallowed the arrow in as it cut through the atmosphere. It was

like a knife through butter and he knew where it was aimed. The pressure of the moment hung very

still, as if it would last forever. And already he could feel the memory searing itself into his mind

forever. With Kenya however, the moment went too quickly and she didn’t seem to know what happened or

what to do until it was too late and all that kept her alive lay on the ground before her. It was too

late; she was held by guards as Scorch lay dying with an arrow in his side. Having fell a good 30 feet

didn’t help either. All that remained were two yellow orbs that held within them all the courage,

love, and beauty that Fume had exerted in the past, but now he had no future, and neither did Kenya.

If anyone has ever experienced the death of a love one, then you know the emotion at the time. Some

feel guilt, others hopelessness and some are angry, but in Kenya’s case there was no denial. She was

guilty for getting Scorch into this, she was hopeless about her future, and she was angry at Namsket

for stealing it from her. All in all, she felt a power. And nothing was going to keep her back any

more.

   Namsket stood over Scorch’s body and looked deep into his eyes. Something was

not right here, something was wrong; this was not supposed to happen. Even in the pit of hatred,

Namsket knew that he had lost another brother. The killer was one of his own men, and even if he

wasn’t personally responsible, he had set in motion a deadly spiral that in turn had to end in this

event. There was nothing that could change that.

   “Nice shot huh your majesty?” The guardsman said. Kenya watched Namsket

carefully; she wanted to see any sign of remorse, anything. Namsket however gave a response that even

for him was low.

   “Yes, that was an awesome shot.” When Kenya saw him smile, the implications

hit her hard. There was no Namsket in that body anymore. There was not even a ghost. His fire was put

out, and not just that, but the fire was replaced with a dark one. And the eyes inside that man’s head

were dry as the desert around him. Looking in to them you would see nothing, not even the slightest

emotion or pain. Namsket didn’t know pain anymore, he didn’t even know himself. He was no longer the

man that Kenya knew as a child, he was different now, and would never be the same.

   Up behind the horizon a bunch of horseman came sauntering. They must have

numbered at least 20 strong. Right in the middle was an older man; Kenya saw his face was laced with

guilt and sadness. But there was a hopeful look in his eye, a probably fruitless hope, but one that

kept someone alive at the edge of death. She knew owe to well and she knew that this man was a strong

one, in his later years but still as strong as ever with a hope that would never die. He was her

father.

   Kenya knew that if her father could survive having everything he loved

(Kenya) vanish without anything else to believe in, than she could to. No longer would she have to sit

at the sidelines and watch passively as her life disincarnated into ruin like an abandoned city. When

she die’s, she will not be forgotten and have her believes in a pit of time and forgetful people. She

would make a lineage, take care of her planet, and make sure that life keeps going on in its sacred

circles. She would grow like a flower to the ground, roots deep in soil and leaves reaching for the

sun. Isn’t it what we all want? We want to grow and feel the pulse of life in our hearts. To wander in

the darkness, to play in the light, to have people all around us that love us, and to be close to all

of nature, and to know that when we die we aren’t gone. That in fact we make way for new life to

sprout and grow. Kenya was not going to be held back from anything. Her father saw her and his eyes

lit up with relief, she smiled and knew what she had to do.

   With one stroke (and the dagger she found in the sirens grotto) she felt the

strength to push off men twice her size in one stroke. Many men tried to defend themselves but she got

the best of them in a second, for she was fighting with a power that was more than steel. Namsket

turned to see all of his best soldiers lying in the sand defeated. He backed away in horror for the

only person left standing was Kenya.

   “So you kill my heart and beat up my men. I have to say Kenya; you must be bad

luck to me.” Namsket tried to stay calm but the fear was obvious in his voice. Kenya could easily get

the better of him.

   “I should have slain you whilst I had the chance.” Namsket flinched but did

his best to stay calm. “Because of you I have endured the pain of endless death. You are a coward.”

   The blade of her dagger was inches from Namsket, as they headed towered the

edge of a cliff; there was nothing but the shine from the metal of the dagger and the determination in

Kenya’s eyes and the fear in Namsket’s. When the world could hear Namskets heartbeat in the stale

quite at the edge of the cliff, it was obvious something was going to happen. This something no one

could control and no wanted, and that no one could stop from happening. Wheels were set rolling down a

long hill, and for Namsket, that was not good news.

   Kenya had tried so hard and so feverishly to stop the wheel from rolling

(this is a metaphor mind you), but they wouldn’t slow. Time seemed to linger and a millennia (another

metaphor) passed standing at the edge of that cliff. All Namsket could see now was Kenya and the same

vies-versa. They stared into each others eyes for a moment, gazing at every detail from the iris to

the pupil, and the soul behind it. Maybe, and legend says, that they really saw each other for a

second. For a moment they knew what the other one thought and felt, Kenya felt Namsket’s guilt and he

felt her pain. They were joined together with one another in a cycle and at that moment Namsket knew

what was to come. Kenya held out her hand in that Namsket would take it.

   “I will forgive you, take my hand Namsket, you’re not going to fall like this, it

isn’t you, and it isn’t who you are. I ca pull you up, if we try hard enough, we can forget about

this. Take my hand.” She thought he would be willing, but the look he gave was one of regret.

   “I never knew did I?” Namsket said quietly with Kenya’s blade at his throat. Death

was right over the cliff, and he was at the edge of it. With quite dignity he knew more than all the

wise men of history, at that moment Namsket could see Kenya in the light, but he knew that unlike her

he could not return and be reborn without consequence and he let the prospect of death be out in the

open. He opened his arms and exposed his heart. Kenya lunged at him with the knife and pushed him off

the cliff. She knew that he couldn’t be who he once was, that made her feel sad, but as she watched

him fall to the sirens below she felt no sadness. What she felt was unexplained and a bit ruthless,

she felt secure in her future again.

   “Say ‘hi’ to Han for me Namsket would you?” She whispered as she saw

his limp frail body being towed under the water by Icicles. She was free from him, and she had set him

free in the process, what more could you ask for. Oh yah, she had forgotten, and no deserves to be

forgotten.

                                      ~*~

   As her fathers men were getting ready for the trip homeward, Kenya sat

by Scorch’s body. He had seemed so strong today; he had protected her and stood up for her even

against his own brother. He had been the really only person in the world who had cared about Kenya

when she didn’t even care about herself. Though Kenya only really knew him for 28 days, she felt as

though she had lost something really dear. That like Benicus, he was a part of her, and though he was

gone, she knew that she needed someway to repay him, and she had the perfect idea. Kenya knew that the

steadfastness and warmth of his heart was not one to be dismissed without so much as looking back. As

in any story, sacrifice was not to be ignored.  She lay the necklace down on his body and watched his

it go up in flames. This is a perfectly normal occurrence with fire birds such as phoenixes, they

burst into flames at death, and then……………….well, you’ll see. Kenya scooped the ashes into a sack on

her waist and went to join her father.

   The desert that Kenya lived was not always hot. Desert in its most technically

means a place with little moisture; this could be hot or cold. For example, tundra is a kind of

desert. But now at the turn of the wheel and the beginning of the dark months, the desert was white

with ice. Behind the palace was a mountain rich with trees and a stream (now frozen over) that

represented the only water in 100 miles. A gentle snow fell now and laced the trees with diamonds.

They fell, gliding on the wind outside Kenya’s bedding-chamber window. Like the world had been kissed

by winter, the gentleness of the sight outside was almost enchanting. Winter, however cold and

desolate, always has its own beauty. The youngness of spring turned to its wisdom. And the trees,

ground and sky are meshed together under eternal glowing pure white. It was Yule now, scents and

smells of the holidays lingered up from the main ballroom. A giant tree decorated with symbolism from

hundreds of different nations stood proud outside her door. Laughter and music filled the castle. The

Yule time is a time in where people see the holiness in the changing wheel. They know that plants have

died, but they know that the memories and love of each person and thing dead are the soil in which the

next generation can plant its sturdy roots. The cycles go on. The land around her was hanging in an

ethereal transition, and new life was all around her. Snow fell lightly as a peace and well being came

over the kingdom. Today they were celebrating the birth of new chance and hope, like the world just

outside the window, Kenya knew that the frostbitten winter that had been her life with Namsket was

coming into circling into an infant new happiness. She felt true contentment and pleasure that was

just as deep as anything sorrowful. For the first time she knew that love and hope was what saved her,

Scorch’s love, the true meaning behind all the ribbons, lights, and candy of the season shone through.

Kenya knew that this was a perfect time to do what she was going to do.

   A cardinal perched outside on her window sill. It was the color of fire and

looked so beautiful in the winter snow.

   That night at the Yule time feast in where people sat down at the table

to break bread, Kenya held her pouch of Scorch’s ash. She took it out and sprinkled it in the wine.

The heat turned white wine to red as she drank it. The texture was soft and warm; it seemed to burn

gently as it touched her lips. Then she felt the heat fill her body with warmth.

   You see, phoenix ash has regenerative properties. As Kenya drank the ashes, the

fertility went to work inside her body and conceived her new life. Nine months later she gave birth to

a baby girl with fiery red hair that she named Denisol. This means ‘desert sun’ in her language. The

baby grew up and was bright. She led the kingdom.

   So maybe this holiday we can see love and giving as more than a greeting

card. We can’t defeat the darkness, but perhaps we can work through hard times to discover ourselves.

Maybe we can start to see magic in everything around us. We can see it in nature’s cycles, and in the

stars. Maybe we can see magic in ourselves and in others. And for those that morn the death of life,

remember that under all the ice lies the seeds for the coming generation. The holiday gives us hope in

the very edge of rebirth. We know that love made it through, and that   love will make it through for

ages to come. Live a little, open your presents, but keep in mind that the true gift is the person

you’re receiving it from, not the object itself. Maybe the next generation will remember us and say,

“Our parents were really brave.” So have a blessed Holiday, ‘for behold, I bring you good tidings of

great joy, which will be to all people’

   And even though there are no ends to the world, there unfortunately is

one to this story. And though it graves me, I’ll say it.









   Epilog: The spring was beautiful and lush. Life danced all around the

kingdom as an elfish boy rode his horse to the gaits of Metros. The river had flooded, and the water

made even this desert city look green, the sand wasn’t so hot, and the expanse no longer appeared so

fruitless. If you look for beauty, you’ll find it, even in the middle of a hot barren place like this.

   Kenya was now I her 30s and it had been 10 years since she escaped. Her son Benicus

had never come back, but 9 year old Denisol had the potential to be a just and graceful leader. Yet in

all that a part of Kenya’s heart was continually aching. After 10 years away from the utter prison in

which she was confined, Kenya was amazed to see everything falling into place in her life.

   Footsteps were heard coming into the room, they were soft and delicate, but enough

to wake the queen from her trance. She looked up to see the same ballroom with the same people, but

someone was new in her field of vision. A young man between the ages of 10 and 12 was being

accompanied by an older elfish woman. She the queen recognized as Frieda, Uruncia’s daughter.

   “Hello, may I approach.” The young man said coming up to the steps into the thrown

room.

   “Of course young man, how may I help you?” She said grinning. The boy had a boyish

face and innocent eyes; his hair was curly lack and his smile wide.

   “I’m looking for my mother. Can you help me find her?” He was shy and his voice was

a little meek, but it was obvious he was a polite boy.

   “What does she look like; I can send a search party after her.”

   “That’s just it, we don’t know, I believe his parents had a secret union. We were

hoping that you could help majesty, if it’s not too much trouble.” Frieda said hastily. Kenya’s eyes

returned to the boy, he was gazing out the window at the sea. Kenya now presided over the Seafaring

city while her daughter was being tutored in Metros by Kenya’s father.

   “It is no trouble at all, I’ll send someone to investigate and we’ll track birthrates

and everything. What is your name my lad?” She asked calmly.

   “Benicus.”







   Copyright Caitlin Joseph 2007 All Rights Reserved

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