Phoenix

The courier shook her head. She tried to straighten her legs and stand up, but her freshly splinted leg was unwieldy and her whole body still felt lethargic. It took all her effort to even push herself up into a sitting position. "Fine! If you won't call him, I'll go to him myself..." she warned, although this seemed unlikely given her current state.

The doctor wasn't convinced either. "No you will not. You would be lucky to even make it out of this tent before collapsing. But if you tell me your name, I will go find the marshal and see if he wants to speak with you."

"Oh. Thank you. My name...my name is Jeanare," said the courier.

---

SUNFIRE/GRIFFIN

The memory faded away and was replaced by real life. Sunfire found herself back on the forest floor, with magic burning away her remaining life and a dragon staring at her. Even without checking through their mental link, she could obviously tell that Alstrom understood the seriousness of what she was showing him.

"Jeanare?" he asked.

"Did you think I used the same name for ten thousand years? No; names come and go, which is especially useful when there are two offspring with identical minds. It would have been confusing if my sister and I had both chosen to use the same name," replied Sunfire. "As my body changes, my name can change too. But enough about names; there is far more to that memory than what you just saw."

"Let us continue then."

---

JEANARE/GRIFFIN

It took so much energy to remain mentally coherent. Jeanare could feel her magic eating away at her insides, trying to pull her away and get her to transfer her mind into her new body, but she resisted the call of rebirth. First she needed to pass her message on. That was her job as courier.

After what seemed like far too long, the doctor finally returned, followed by a male griffin with feathers of black—the marshal.

Jeanare raised her wings and flicked them in a greeting, even though this gesture made her muscles ache. "Redwing! Damn, it's good to see you. It's been far too long since we spoke. I bring you an urgent message from high command. You may hear it, if the moment is convenient for you."

The marshal—Redwing was his name, though his wings had black feathers—strolled over towards the field bed. His posture was controlled and graceful. Even in wartime (especially in wartime) he looked dignified and commanding. "You have a message to deliver? Report, soldier."

"Not even a hello? Full of ice, aren't you?" Jeanare snorted and turned towards the doctor, who was weaving some sort of spell using quick paw gestures. He was probably trying to check her blood pressure again. "The marshal and I are actually good friends, believe it or not," Jeanare said.

Marshal Redwing also turned towards the doctor. "Is her condition stable?" he asked.

The doctor let his forepaws drop back to the ground, and his spellwork dissipated. "No. I am reasonably certain there is internal bleeding, far too severe for us to risk repairing. She needs to initiate the mental transfer. Her strength is failing."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily!" Jeanare muttered. Neither of the other two griffins responded to her quip.

"How long does she have?" asked Marshal Redwing.

"Not very long."

"Enough time for a message?"

"If it is brief."

"I will ensure it is so. Leave us."

"As you command." The doctor bowed his head, then he turned to Jeanare. "Pass your message, and then transfer your mind as soon as you can. Do not fall asleep or you will never wake up again." On that ominous note, he left the tent.

Once Jeanare and Redwing were alone with each other, their composures both shifted. Redwing's stony expression warmed up and he no long stood quite as rigidly formal. "Jeanare, it is very good to see you too. I've missed your presence greatly." He leaned in and nuzzled his beak against hers. "Are you in much pain?"

"Redwing..." Jeanare also dropped her act. Her false bravado dissolved and she dropped back onto her chest, no longer able to muster the energy to sit upright. All her cheery humour was gone in an instant. "Decimation—decimation on the northern fronts. We're being outmanoeuvred left and right. Our supply lines are in chaos. General Kilrian's forces are completely surrounded at Miritan, and the separatists are sieging the city as we speak. Your reinforcements aren't coming—they've been diverted to save Kilrian and fortify the city."

Redwing shook his head. "I need that support! We have momentum here—if I can just stay in the fight a bit longer, we can outflank the main separatist army and come to Kilrian's assistance with much greater strength and with an easy advantage. If that human was less of a coward, we could have decisive victory right here and now!" The griffin marshal squawked in irritation. He was a male, which meant he was not allowed to fight in the frontlines because of the risk that he could die, but he hated the idea of sending forces (from his own species and others) to kill and die while he sat safely in a command tent. "Awk! But instead the fight will continue for days, if not weeks. Maybe even more! The bloodshed will just drag on, here and elsewhere."

"Drag on...drag on..." Jeanare sighed. "The dragons will not help us either. Negotiations at Tiwani Harbour have failed."

"Faawk!" Redwing squawked again, or perhaps he'd been swearing. "The drakken would choose to sit around and do nothing? Curse them! If they threw their weight into this war it would have been over in a single day!"

Marshal Redwing's ears pricked up at the sound of running and yelling from outside the tent. A human officer wearing body armour rushed in, and Redwing turned to speak with him in quiet tones which Jeanare could not hear. Then the human ran off again.

"Bad news?" Jeanare asked.

The marshal nodded. "How many more setbacks can we suffer before this war is lost? Scouts have spotted mantis reinforcements coming in from across the valley. They'll be on us before sunset, and without our own reinforcements we'll be trapped and outnumbered. This battle is over and we've failed, but the war isn't over yet. I've ordered a full retreat to meet up with General Kilirian's forces. It's time to leave."

"Going so soon? But I just got here," Jeanare replied, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. Neither of them smiled.

"There is no feasible alternative. I have already given the command." The marshal let his wing gently rest around Jeanare's back. "All this negotiation, all this discussion, all this compromise. We worked so hard on that treaty, but in the very first year of this alliance we are already fighting a civil war. The humans hate the dragons, the dragons hate the humans, the centaurs hate themselves, and the mantises hate everyone. Yet here we are, shedding feathers and blood to try and hold this whole mess together."

"Don't tell me. I'm not a general, or a diplomat, or a hero—you might be, but I'm not. I'm just a courier. Just a little bird who flies..." Jeanare let her head rest against the bedding and her eyes slipped shut without her even intending it.

"No. No! Wake up! Jeanare!"

Jeanare blinked awake as she felt Redwing shaking her. "I'm not—not sleeping. I just have to... I'll..." Wispy streaks of magic began flowing up and down her body, a glowing bright golden colour that scorched her insides. "See? I'm doing the rebirth. Don't you worry about me. Go lead your troops, Redwing. Go fight the war. Bring us peace."

The marshal shook his head sadly. "What use is war? A war for peace? Ridiculous. Yet somehow they put me in charge. I don't want to go fight the war, I want to stay here with you."

"And what about your soldiers? Your responsibilities? Your command?"

"I've already given the orders and delegated the work. That's all I ever do—sit safely behind the lines while others go out and fight. While others go out and die. Others like you." Redwing gently tapped his beak against Jeanare's. "And now you are injured. I once made you a promise that we would share memories and perform the lifebond together, and I intend to keep that promise. No more delaying. I'll do it right now."

Jeanare laughed, which caused a stabbing pain in her chest. "Haha. I've been asking you that for the past three cycles, but I've listened to one hundred years of you making excuses. Now war has come and we're about to be overrun by mantises and centaur separatists, but finally you decide that now is the right time?"

"I think facing tragedy and devastation has given me some perspective on what are the things and people I truly care about. Better now than never."

Jeanare was torn between wanting to have her wish finally fulfilled, and also the knowledge that Redwing was risking his life for her. "This is foolish. You should leave me behind and retreat with the rest of the army."

"No. I will not leave you, but we aren't being left behind. The army can function without me—my officers are competent enough for that. It will take a few hours to disassemble the camp and pull back our forces in an orderly manner. We can spare time for a quick exchange of memories, and then we will both be reborn and leave on the last flight out of here."

The marshal sat down beside the bed and raised his forepaw—magic started to wash over his form, the same golden strands that were beginning to cover Jeanare. Their magic twined and linked as they both prepared to die and be reborn. His next words came not as speech, but as shared thought. "I was a fool for turning you down in the past, so I shall be a fool now and be reborn with you, Jeanare."

Jeanare no longer felt pain—her suffering had faded away, replaced by a sense of closeness and guilty relief. She would not be alone. "Redwing..."

---

ALSTROM/DRAGON

The memory faded away, and Alstrom found himself once again floating over a sea of information and memory. "Incredible. That was... You fought in the Centaur Civil War? You led Joint Alliance forces? That was centuries ago!"

Sunfire was sombre. "I fought, yes. It was a time of great tragedy and strong emotion. I served as a courier and also a marshal—in mind and body I am a direct descendent of those two griffins whose memories you just saw."

Alstrom felt overwhelmed by all he had just seen and felt. The Centaur Civil War had been the last great conflict between the major civilizations—even though his own civilization had not been a participant, it was still well-known as a piece of history from many centuries ago. And this brown-feathered griffin in front of him had been a part of it. "You were a part of history—you saw it all happen!"

"I did, and now you have seen it too. But if you want to reflect on that memory, it must wait till after we are done with this rebirth. Time is precious, so show me one of your memories."

This time, Alstrom immediately knew what memory he wanted to send. "After all that seriousness about war and love and loss, I need something more light-hearted."

"Certainly. Show me what you wish."

---

Three young dragon fledglings scampered down a paved road leading to a large pool of water. The fledgling in the lead had bright blue scales, and the one sprinting just behind had scales of muted gold. The last fledgling had pale white scales, and she trotted at a moderate pace as if engaging in a race was beneath her.

Alstrom almost made it to the pool first, but then at the last moment someone tugged his tail and made him slip. "HEY! Cheater!" he yelled, scrambling back to his feet. This quick distraction was all it took for the golden-scaled fledgling to dash ahead of him and take his lead, leaping into the pool with a splash.

"Ha! I'm first! Too slow, losers!" said the gold-scaled fledgling.

Alstrom tried to growl, although he wasn't quite grown enough to pull this off and it sounded more like a purr. "Gmrrr! You are a dirty, cheating, miserable, sad, low-life, worthless—ahh!" His insults were cut-off when the white-scaled fledgling finally arrived, and she shoved Alstrom forward to push him into the pool. However, at the last moment he managed to wrap his tail around her forepaw and they both went tumbling into the water together.

The gold-scaled fledgling laughed and used his wings to flick a wave of water that splashed them both.

---

Alstrom blinked, and then he found himself once again flying over the vast sea of information that was his mind.

"What was that?" Sunfire asked, flying beside him.

"That? That was just me some messing around with childhood friends. Their names were Larisin and Jex. I must have been no older than ten, maybe twelve years old?"

"I have to... I want to see it again!" Before Alstrom could reply, Sunfire reached out and pulled on that same mental thread again, and the world exploded into colour and sound.

---

This time Alstrom found himself standing at the poolside, not as a fledgling but as how he appeared in the present—a fully grown dragon. The three young fledglings continued to splash about and play in the water, precisely as how Alstrom remembered playing with his friends.

Sunfire was standing beside him, yet none of the dragons swimming in the pool or walking by the sides seemed to pay any attention to the sight of a griffin. In real life, griffins were rare enough in the city that she would surely have gotten some surprised or curious looks, but this was merely a memory.

"Such exuberance!" Sunfire murmured. They could both feel the simplistic joy Alstrom remembered from the memory, and the intensity of this emotion seemed to intrigue the griffin. "That's you! You were so joyful. So much delight from such a simple activity."

Alstrom stared out at his younger self. "I was young—just a little fledgling, enjoying the innocence of childhood."

"You had so much energy and...life. As if even such simple joy was the most fun you'd ever had. Perhaps it really was the most fun you'd ever had, in your life so far." Sunfire sat down, and her next words came out slowly. "This is what I was looking for."

Alstrom didn't understand. "What? You were looking for this?"

"Memories like this one are what the griffin have forgotten. Every time we are reborn with new bodies, yet our memories and personalities stay so old. I have no idea what it's like to be young—to be so childish."

"For an adult to be called childish? That would be an insult amongst my people," Alstrom said.

"But amongst my people, it would make no sense."

---

SUNFIRE/GRIFFIN

Sunfire felt the imaginary world collapsing, and the poolside faded away. No more memories, no more visions of being in the mind space—they were back on the forest floor, back in real life.

Sunfire raised her forepaw. Wispy threads of golden coloured magic were dancing up and down the limb, and across her whole body. She tried to speak, but there was no breath in her lungs—she wasn't breathing anymore. Soon she would be dead, and then she would live again.

Alstrom was still sitting beside her, and as they both watched, the golden threads seemed to leap across to his body too. The magic touched the dragon, but it did not engulf him. "What's with all the light?" Alstrom asked.

"Magic. It is griffin regenerative magic, which will burn this old body away and charge my next body with life." Sunfire could still feel her mental link with Alstrom, as illuminated by the golden strands linking them, but time was so short. "We don't have time to fully enjoy any more memories together, but we can still exchange a few ideas and recollections to reflect on later."

"So what—" Alstrom paused, then switched back to throwing his thoughts. "So what is left? What should we exchange?"

"The last thing you revealed—what it was like when you were young." Sunfire felt herself running close to the end. Her magic was eating her up, but she still needed to learn more from Alstrom. "We have no children. To be youthful or elderly means nothing to us. Show me more of these things. These are the things which dragons understand which griffins do not."

"Very well. And you can show me...history. Show me events from the past which you have seen."

Sunfire nodded. There was nothing more to be said to Alstrom. Memories continued to jump between their minds, but she didn't have the time to fully process them. They would be stored away, to be fully unpacked and understood later on. And not just memories, but opinions and ideals and emotions—so much information that her conscious stream of thought turned into a blurry flicker of moving images, scenes, and sensations.

Even some of those secrets she had mentioned earlier managed to slip in, but Sunfire let them go. Dark secrets which were supposed to be covered up and lost to history, or hidden revelations about her own race or others. But after what Alstrom had taught her, she didn't mind letting him know a few things.

Even as they exchanged memories, the magic continued to wash over Sunfire, rapidly spreading until her whole body was covered under golden threads of energy. "You're really glowing now," Alstrom said.

Sunfire found it increasingly difficult to see, hear, or otherwise interact with the world around her. The only thing left was her mind, but even that was unravelling as she felt the process continue. "We're almost done now. Thank you for sharing your memories, Alstrom. I'll see you on the other side..."

---

ALSTROM/DRAGON

As Alstrom watched, glowing strands of magic began to envelope Sunfire. The magic grew brighter and brighter until Sunfire's body seemed to shine like the sun, forcing Alstrom to avert his eyes. He could feel intense heat radiating from her form, warming his scales even at a distance.

"Sunfire?" he tried to ask, but he wasn't sure if she'd heard. Their minds remained linked—even now, memories were still leaping between them in a rushing flow, but Sunfire's mind felt different than before. Those echoing, ancient harmonics seem to dominate her thought processes, taking control and overriding everything. The magic was so loud, so powerful that it seemed like they were deafening him too.

Suddenly there was a blinding flash, and then came darkness.

---

ALSTROM/GRIFFIN

Everything was too loud for his ears, too bright for his eyes, and too sharp against his scales. Opening his eyes even the slightest amount left him blinded by all the light, so Alstrom kept his eyelids clenched tightly shut. He wanted to run away and hide from it all, but there was nowhere to go. His body felt weak and useless as he endured the unbearable sensation, able to do nothing except shudder and twitch at the painful intensity of it all. Past and future were both meaningless—all that mattered was the suffering he was going through in the now.

Gradually, the deafening noise reduced and sharpened into usable sound. Someone was talking, but Alstrom couldn't recognize the voice. "—like I made it through in one piece."

"Was there a chance that you didn't?" asked another voice, also unrecognizable.

"Possibly, if your mind somehow interfered with the transfer," said the first voice. "Looks like I'm not the only one, though. What do we have here? Just a clone, or is there more in there?"

Alstrom felt someone roll him over from his side onto his belly, and for no reason he found himself so shocked by that sudden touch that he burst into uncontrollable sobs. His body heaved and gasped for breath as tears poured from his eyes.