Tato Burung Phoenix Kecil Novels & Stories

(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.

I chuck on my black and green trainers and put on a bit of mascara. I look myself over in the mirror and twirl around. The large phoenix tattoo sitting on my back full on display when I pull my hair up into a bun. The phoenix is made up with whisks of black, brown, red, orange and yellow, like she just flew out of the flames. Her wings span across my shoulder blades and her head looks down to her tail that spreads down my spine and across my lower back. I got the tattoo a week after my nineteenth birthday, the damn thing cost me a small fortune. Looking back on it though my bird is worth every euro I spent on it. The intense colors saturated perfectly and the detail is outstanding.

Embry chuckles into the link, watching me walk over towards Ares and Benjamin who are radiating pride while watching Phoenix. “Mumma Raben! Mumma Raben I gotsted a bunny wike you!” Phoenix links excitedly while running into me with her bunny in her mouth, and everyone laughs. “You got a very good bunny, I managed to find one too,” I giggle at how adorable she is, and place my bunny next to hers making her giggle. “Bunnies good chase, fun hunt,” Phoenix admits, making me nod watching her lay down and begin to chow down on her prey.

“I’m worshipping. There’s a difference.” Kai’s breath hitched as Damien’s thumb dragged over the phoenix’s head, right above his left nipple. The tattoo was intricate—flames curling in shades of red, orange, and deep black ink that seemed to flicker in the low light. It stretched from just below his collarbones down to the bottom of his ribs, wings wrapping around his sides. Geometric patterns from his full sleeves connected to it, making the entire piece feel alive on his lean-muscled swimmer’s build.

"How do you know I am a phoenix and the Rose? I'm still confused. And who is the evil of all evil?" "This..." Orga pointed to his shoulder. Arabella glimpsed a dark tattoo, a tiny bird with large bright wings. It didn't look like a tattoo, it seemed more like a birthmark, and she felt he had tried to conceal it with charcoal but failed miserably. "All phoenixes comes with a birthmark, and you, Arabella Collins, had all the phoenix mark on you. It is a large birthmark, and it pulsates and emits heat when you touch it."

"I have something for you." He took my hand and put a small box on it, urging me to open it. I opened it with shaky hands. What I saw took my breath away, it was a beautiful little pendant. It was simply beautiful, I can't help but think it must have cost him a fortune. I took the pendant out. It was a small bird with her wings outstretched. "A bird." I said almost unconscious, completely fascinated by it. Jacob nodded and said, "not just any bird, it's a phoenix, every time a phoenix burn in flames, it rise again from its own ashes, being whole again, stronger than before, as pure as before."

Silence from Cassian, wherever she was keeping him. Nova had activated every Phoenix Council contact from here to the eastern territories, but phoenixes were dying out—we'd learned that much from the Council's archives. Only seventeen confirmed phoenixes left in the world, most of them old, tired, wanting nothing more than to fade peacefully. They had no information about Vesna, this corrupted phoenix-descendant who burned cold. "She's not asking for anything," Marcus said for the hundredth time, standing over our war table covered in maps, marked with every possible location Vesna might hide. "No ransom. No demands. No threats. Why take him if she doesn't want something?"

They shielded their faces, hissing, their pale skin reflecting the light like mirrors. One—braver or more foolish than the rest—made the mistake of testing the barrier. The scream that tore from his throat was something beyond agony. His flesh didn't burn—it incinerated, blackening and curling away from bone in seconds. The Phoenix fire didn't consume him like ordinary flame; it rejected him, repelled him with violent force. He recoiled, clutching what remained of his hand, the stump cauterized and smoking. His screams echoed across the courtyard, a warning written in blood and ash.

said Lowa, bending her thumb and forefinger into a circle, putting them in her mouth and whistling loudly. A big beautiful bird with a long tail flew over us. This is a bird that I haven't seen before. Her eyes were sharp and her beak was like a hook, but her feathers were a bright red with colorful stripes. Her tail was like a summer reed, long and fluffy at the bottom, and looked like a flame from a distance. "What kind of bird is this? I've never seen such a beautiful bird." "It's a phoenix-kite hybrid. I found an egg in the mountains and hatched it in a hot spring," says Lowa, grabbing the collar of my back.

He suddenly realized that the phoenix symbolized his transformation, and at that moment, he made a decision. As Jace studied the mesmerizing painting, Marvis approached him, her eyes reflecting the warmth and understanding that had drawn him to her. "The phoenix is a powerful symbol, isn't it? It represents rebirth, transformation, and the enduring spirit," she said, her voice resonating with a quiet strength.