Phoenix

This was previously called confessions but i have renamed it because i finally know where i want to go with this story i hope you like what i've done for the ending.
Please please rate this and tell me how you like it.

Phoenix
1

“ Aaaaargh,” Francesca Karavlic changed direction midair rebounding off an unseeable wall.

Her enemy also changed direction. Rethinking her attack.

Swords sparked as they met at least thirteen feet in the air.

“You’ll die,” Anna Hellsenger shouted.

Right before she attempted to slice Francesca’s head off. It was a miss. Because of her exerted force this miss thrust her forward causing her to off balance. She landed with a bump on the gray pavement.

“You’ll die first.” Francesca launched an attack with all her speed, muscles taunt, brain in deep concentration. She slashed at the off balance Anna lying open on the floor. Six slashes to all major arteries.

Anna rolled missing the first three. She raised her sword to block the next blow. Francesca faked so quickly Anna’s offense missed.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” Anna cried out in pain.

Francesca floated to a stop. Back on the floor she kneeled on the ground investigating her enemies wounds. There was wounds to her ankles and across her back. She was paralyzed.

Francesca noted how good her blow was. She was most definitely getting better.

“Ulydian bitch,” Anna hissed bearing her fangs.

“ You will speak to me, when you are asked,” Francesca said purring into Anna’s ear.

“You kill us but we will never die.”

“ I said you will speak to me when I ask you too!” Francesca raised her voice angered, “You murdered us. We never fought back. You burnt our castles to the ground with everyone in them. We never attacked. You took our babies. We never took yours. Your people massacred us while we were sleeping. We did not do the same. How can you now justify yourself to me,” Francesca got to her feet.

Anna snickered. “You would kill yourself if you knew the truth.”

“What truth.” she faced her enemy,” what truth!” she screamed.

“Your race contains an unknown. An unknown that is prophesied by the great Oracle Zehenir. That unknown will bring the end of all Kryers.”

Francesca covered her face sinking to the ground in disbelief. “You murdered us continually for three hundred years because of a prophesy by Zehenir.”

“You have proved yourself an asset for the Ulydians. You are truly… great.”

Francesca narrowed her eyes. She knew Anna was going somewhere with this but she couldn’t tell where. “What are you saying Icarin,” she spat out the words at Anna.

“Francesca, have you never wondered why your power is so great why you navigate the great beyond so well. Why you have risen so fast to power even though your House, The House of Yllacyrca is of no merit,” Anna was dying now and she knew it. She would never show it to her enemy thought that her last few words had been a struggle. Her breath was short. So was her blood.

“W..w…why,” the young Francesca Karavlic stammered. She squatted beside the century older Anna. She saw quite clearly her enemy was dying. She wanted the information before she passed.

“Because you are the person the Variayics are looking for. If you live they will find you. They will find our civilization. Then they will feed on us until we are extinct. We the Icarins will never let that happen. Don’t you understand we couldn’t. The elders left us here to protect you.” Anna chuckled then added ruefully. “but we ended up killing you.”

“That’s why you killed us for so long.”

“Because we were trying to stop you from being born.”

“You made us enemies because of me.”

“Yes.”

“My family died because of me,” Francesca said weakly.

“Yes.”

Francesca released her sword allowing it to fall away from her person. A tear drop took the long lonely road down her face. Dying at the end of her small chin.

“Go with Mayl.” A wavering voice broke through her thoughts. By the time she looked up Anna was dead.




Contrary to popular belief people with vampiric blood were not immortal. They just lived too long for their own good, Francesca thought as she dragged the body to a Greenfield nearby. She left the body near the statue of Mayl.

Growing up Francesca had liked Anna’s son until he had joined the Icarin Molin. When he had, he suddenly shunned her, then he tried to kill her. In the end she had killed him. Slayed him expertly even though she had only started swordsmanship for about a week. After that she had been on the run. No family would take her in. It would have been too dangerous. The Icarin Molin would certainly come after the one who killed a Hellsenger. Even though it was in self defense.
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She grunted throwing herself over the ridge. She had actually climbed instead of flying. She just felt like a good workout. Her muscles rippled from the final strain. She relaxed when she got a comfortable position on a good piece of grass. Francesca looked down on the village she called home. After this kill she would have to be on the move by dawn. Either way the Icarins would still come and wreak havoc on the village.

She sighed. Francesca was tired of causing trouble and hurt for everyone she met. The holy man she had befriended in her earlier travels had been found and interrogated he’d been found almost dead by the roadside. He had said nothing. She took a small mud creature into her hands absentmindedly. She crushed its squirming body slowly between her index and thumb. Only the weak ones died.


The road to Pekin was a long one. From village to village a person traveled with a certain amount of risk There was bandits, police, terrorists all for one cause or another. Fran traveled empty handed always she never brought anything with her when she was changing abodes. She ate a full meal which could suffice her for two weeks if she had to. She wore clean clothes which could remain clean for weeks if it had to. Always black or maroon no one noticed black or maroon. She brushed her hair an left it out in the wind. She liked it that way. Her hair was black and long and like most of her kind it was never cut above her shoulders. Ulyds only cut their hair if they were wannabe Icarins. Icarins never grew their hair though funny enough, no one wanted to be a hunted Ulydian.

The most noticeable thing about Fran was that she was white. It was a rare Ulydian disease. She looked just like an Icarin until you noticed the hair. If she was in the sun she got black enough to pass for a Ulyd but as soon as she left the sunlight her skin returned to a tanned white. This distinguishable feature of Fran was noticed on a holiday trip to Pekin when her skin went white. There was no sun in Pekin. There was always sun in Ulyd.

It was dusk when Fran started to run. In absolute cold she could run for over an hour before her skin got icy and a pale white and she fell into coma. In this weather she could make the Pekin bridge, six miles away before dusk.


The way too friendly villager gave a crooked smile and spat out, “ You strangers don’t know what happens here. Your kind should leave.”

That was it, a disgruntled Icarin too worn from hating Ulyds. She was probably just taking it out at her. The villager was now squinting at Fran’s skin. It was white now from the cold. She then cast a long look at Francesca’s hair. Francesca cocked her head to a side, calculating if she could kill the woman before the security lights made a forty second sweep of the bridge. This wouldn’t be the first time that she had killed a bigoted Icarin.

She took a step forward and her boots made a crunching sound on the frost bitten ground. The woman took a step back. Her head remained cocked to a side. With her head cocked, her hair on the left side fell some ways below her thigh. With her hair away from her face the lady got a good look at Francesca. She saw the glint in her eye. She suddenly felt fear without knowing it. She hissed and bared her fangs. Francesca ignored the vampiric warning. “Do you know why your kind is afraid of the Ulyds.”

“We are not afraid. You are the ones that know fear.”

“Guess again.” Francesca slid a blade out of her cuffs. Four inches of knife. The woman saw it and in desperation tried to run. Francesca was upon her before she made three feet.

The woman hissed again. Trying to get Francesca with her fangs was a mistake because it angered her more.

”You they are looking for isn’t it? Ha you will die then.”
She was dead before she felt the blade cut through her white skin, through tendons, through veins, through flesh.

Francesca wiped her hands off in the grass and whispered, “Its because of me.”

Sixty-three. Room sixty-three was the last room left in the small but clean inn. She shoved the door open with one hand using the other to clean the knife on her pants. Back and forth, back and forth. Cleaning the blade with her pants like she had always done before.


“He left the faith ten years ago.”

Fran was talking to a priest of Mayl in the the Pekin holy church. “Where did he go?”

Father Ryik adjusted the buttons to his vest. He was fidgeting. “He went… he went to the city.”

“He went or did they come for him.” Francesca outed a candle. One of the fourteen burning in the room they were in. Father Ryik wanted privacy. The Father jumped at the movement. She decided not to let him answer instead, she asked, “How did they find him.”

“He gave… gave himself peacefully… Francesca.”

Francesca’s head darted up. He knew her name. She hadn’t expected that.

“He said you would come.”

“He did didn’t he. He always knew. Even though he couldn’t travel the beyond.”

“Who said he couldn’t.” Francesca looked up again at the priest. His eyes broke away nervously. She had always assumed the Father couldn’t see anything because he was a priest.

“I’ve been waiting for you since the day he left.”

“What is it that he told you?” We were walking through a narrow corridor now. Barely fit for the passage of two people side by side. He’d hurried her out the back door down into a musty dank basement. Shielding her it seemed from prying eyes.

Inside the first room, he had given Fran a Mother’s vest to put on. He seemed quite embarrassed when Francesca shed her clothes right in front of him. His face turned peachy. Fran smiled. The Father then led the way down the corridor they were in now. It was a brisk pace. Francesca’s boots clanked on the metal floor. Francesca readjusted the dagger under the vests. He noticed and frowned as he had when he first saw that she was carrying weapons.

“Here are the things he left for you.” He ushered Fran through a door that had at least ten security locks on them. The room smelt stale. No one had been here for a while Fran guessed.

Francesca rushed to the trunks. Inside was a treasure trove of weapons and gadgets clothes, House heirlooms. Behind her she heard a faint gasp from the Father. Her hand came to rest on a Karavlic shawl. She brought it to her nose to smell. “Father… “

“Yes yes.” He turned and left the room. A few minutes later he returned with a cup of steaming tea. Francesca grabbed it. But before she drank she sniffed it. Water. Leaf. Spice. It was clean. She looked at the Father gratefully. He looked as though he were contemplating something. “What is it?”

“You will have to leave Pekin now.”

“Yes I do.” Francesca started to pack the things she would need most. It took her awhile before she was ready but with the priest helping they finished within the hour.

“When will you tell them I was here?”

“A few minutes from now.”

“What will you tell them.”

“I haven’t thought about that.”

“Father?“

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

And then she was gone. Just like that. Father Ryik noted that her powers were definitely getting stronger than even the Father could have thought.

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The sack was heavy almost overbearing. Fran swapped the load from shoulder to shoulder. The pain in her chest was antagonizing, she was straining herself to the maximum and she herself knew it. She collapsed a few miles later, her heart pounding dragged herself to a nearby ditch then promptly nodded off to sleep against her will. She woke up to severe stiffness in her legs, about to move she stopped when she heard a rustle coming from nearby. Fran would have investigated if her legs hadn’t brutally inhibited her movement.

A bird flew out from brush.

Francesca breathed a sigh of relief. She had thought that the Icarin might have found her. Rubbing the pain and spasms out of her legs she got up and continued trudging the long dark road … into the wilderness…

Francesca Karavlic knew that the only way for her to help the Ulydians to survive was to leave them but at the same time she regretted not being able to fulfill her calling as their saviour for the moment being. She had come a long way. By traveling the great beyond she knew that the Variayics were coming, thousands of pod ships, millions of slave ships and five mother ships. By the time they reached within the perception range of any normal Kryer it would be too late. They were coming to enslave the Kryers again. The Kryers had fled before they were exterminated to the secluded planet of Noth, hoping and praying to Mayl that they would not be found, put through the tortures again. It Francesca figured that if they were powerful enough to percept her from so many light years away it would be stupid to run from them. Not only stupid but hopeless. The only way to help the Kryers to survive was to survive herself. To do that she had to stay away from the persecution of the vindictive Icarins.
seemed now that they had not escaped but had bided their time. Until she had arrived.
Francesca was to remain in solitary conditions for the next seven years. It would have been longer if a tragedy had not called her out from her hiding, to return to a world that hunted her, to return to a world willing to murder their saviour for hopes of survival. She returned to a world she was to save but they yet did not know to what extent. Their persecutions only hardened her and made her into the commander they needed. In a way, they molded her into what she needed to be: Francesca Karavlic of the House of Yllacyrca a Kryer, the most powerful being of all time.


2

Within Icarin Molin there was a bustle of activity and a flurry of information being passed from one hand to another. A fleet just off the atmosphere of Noth’s sister planet Moira had been spotted. And so had many more along the archipelago of planets that Noth existed in. Perception was picking up only a slight image of what was coming and even the strongest perceptionist could see nothing but a silver haze and a bit of ship. Perceptionists at Moira had had slightly more luck and were able to perceive thousands of pod ships, even this they were not too sure about. They also had no idea of what race they were.

Some thought that they were from the Variayics, others were of the silly opinion that they might be navigationists. The Icarin Molin knew exactly what and who were coming. The great oracle Zehenir hat seen this, this was the other half of what she had prophesied. The other half that no one knew about.

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“From within Ulyds I see a great power to be born. It is this power that your slave masters are following, for they still want you, you were their best power source since the beginning of time.”

“When they come they shall bring their pod ships slave ships their mother ships and death for all Kryers through pain and suffering. She will be the downfall of us all, then the saviour, she will bring all Kryers together. It is she that will save our race from our oppressors. But first we must fall like the phoenix.”

Oracle Zehenir
Home world Xacia
Year 187 of Mayl Sia

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