Phoenix Arises Novels & Stories

I shake my head no. “The phoenix is a mysterious bird. It’s special. Like you. It has a strong love for its people. It gives the people its power. She rises above them. She brings death to life. You do that, Mia. You will bring life to us. Our Phoenix queen will protect us with your love and healing. You will allow us to once again, rise from the ashes and be reborn. Would you like that?” He studies my face. I nod yes and give him a quick glance.

Phoenix stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “You look beautiful,” he added as he walked over to take his seat. Heat rushed to my face. Did he watch the display just now? “Thank you.” I took my seat quickly. “I… I’m grateful,” I said, glancing at him. “I didn’t think you’d actually bring him.” “You made one request,” Phoenix replied calmly. “I would’ve fulfilled it no matter what.” I stared at him. Maybe Phoenix wasn’t as heartless as I’d thought. Maybe he was a good person, trapped in a family that believed themselves superior to every other race. Born into cruelty. Raised in it. Did that excuse it? I didn’t know.

"Seraphina Agni, save our clan and come back safe. We need you, before our clan disappears, please— save the phoenix from crying..."

But then I heard myself answering her question. "Phoenix is a mythological creature. It emerged as a new and stronger bird from something that has been destroyed. That was me. A long time ago. I died and rose from my own ashes." I stood up and got a slice of pizza. "Wow." I heard Mamba say. "I'll just take a bath." I said and left them. I could still hear the jolly voice of Mamba, asking the same question to Sphinx. I shook my head. She doesn't seem to be tired from our boxing session.

Gold swallows hard, focusing on his painting. He started this artwork more than two weeks ago. The lack of time hinders him from painting it perfectly, though as stated, at least it's done. "This is Phoenix in the Fire." He tells everybody, still looking at his work. The portrait is greatly inspired by the polaroid picture he took the first night he and Kolya slept together. The canvas size is 38"W x 75"H, it's big and he can't believe that he's showing this to the public.

What the email had not said was that Phoenix would arrive in worn boots and a flannel shirt with a notebook already open, look around the archive room with an expression of pure delight, and say before even setting down her bag, “This building smells like my favorite kind of problem.” Cressida looked at her over her glasses. “Good morning,” she said. Phoenix looked at her. Brown eyes, sharp, the particular alertness of someone who noticed things and had learned to notice faster. She smiled, not apologetically. “Sorry. I do that. Lead with the weird thing.” She set her bag down and held out her hand. “Phoenix Hart.” “Cressida Vale.” She shook the hand. It was firm. “The collection is through

“Who the fuck says I wasn’t? I fucking bled to death in your arms! It’s just that—” Zedekiel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alaric, did his death truly shock you that much? Phoenixes don’t die permanently. They always rise from their ashes, remember?” The other phoenixes who had turned into ashes, also rose since their King had risen. They had all been waiting for him. The realization struck Alaric like lightning and his sorrow instantly flipped to fury. He stormed up and landed a solid punch across Talon’s grinning face, sending him flying.

The resistance and I prepared meticulously, bracing ourselves for the confrontation that would define the future. As the meeting unfolded, tension crackled in the air. The Phoenix's leaders spoke with unwavering confidence, outlining their vision of a world in chaos, of power consolidated in their hands. The moment was ripe, and we seized it. I stepped forward, armed with irrefutable evidence, and confronted the leaders of The Phoenix. Their faces contorted with shock and disbelief as I revealed the secrets I had unearthed, tearing apart the illusion they had meticulously constructed. Pandemonium erupted as their true nature was laid bare. Chaos enveloped the room, as The Phoenix's members s

The last woman, Arizona spoke up again, looking impatient. 'Alpha, we had found Phoenix about two months or so ago. She was beaten, bruised and battered. She was in a coma for two weeks and when she finally woke up, she had no memories of how she got the injuries or how she got to our borders - which was where I had found her. According to her, the last thing she remembered was her friend, Caleb, calling her to help cook for him to prepare for some guests. We compared the time frame of her last memory and the current time and concluded she had suffered some sort of trauma and had lost about eleven months worth of memories. We took her in and nursed her back to health. When she got better, sh

(Five years later) Lyra’s POV I leaned against the dark tinted window of my limousine as it drove past the City. My reflection stared back at me, my face covered with a Phoenix shaped mask that only allowed my eyes and mouth to be seen, it was my Trademark. The world now knew me as The Phoenix, the name wasn't just branding. It was my story. I had risen from destruction, rebuilt by hands that should never have held me together, and now the very fire that consumed me was now my fuel and weapon.