We are the angry and the desperate,
The hungry, and the cold,
We are the ones who kept quiet,
And always did what we were told.

But we've been sweating while you slept so calm,
In the safety of your home.
We've been pulling out the nails that hold up
Everything you've known.

So open your eyes child,
Let's be on our way.
Broken windows and ashes
Are guiding the way.

Keep quiet no longer,
We'll sing through the day,
Of the lives that we've lost,
And the lives we've reclaimed.

Prayer of the Refugee by Rise Against

The human heart is a dark and twisting city, full of smoking ruins and alleyways pulsing crimson. Who knows what foul beasts lie in wait in the black crevices of each person's being?

The prison is filled with spiraling corridors and channels as well, maze-like in its madness. In daylight, its occupants are part man, part animal, the howling ever-constant. At night, they become wraiths, their broken moans of pain lining my dreams.

I don't sleep much.

I

It came in the middle of the night, the scratching and muttering bringing me instantly out of a restless slumber. At first I thought it was one of the many specters that plagued me, charred beyond recognition and yet still managing to croak curses and laments. But when I saw the form outlined against the cold moonlight, I knew this was no dream. The silhouette slipped silently onto the floor of my cell, as natural and smooth as ink.

Hello. The man's voice was light and pleasant, an unnatural contrast against the macabre surroundings. It brought to mind visages of happier days, although there was an undercurrent of darkness beneath it. I laughed coarsely, amused by the anticlimactic greeting. He paused as my wild laughter echoed around the stone walls, perhaps wondering if I was mad. I might have been. The thought sobered me up immediately, and my hoarse voice died out. I collected my thoughts again. So, what are you here for? Vengeance? Divine punishment? I drawled, the words falling easily from my lips; I had long resigned myself to no happy ending. It didn't really matter what he was here for.

I'm here to rescue you. I raised my eyebrows. That was a new one. Don't tell me you say that to all the girls? It's not very original. I heard his lips move over his teeth, and imagined a feral smile. I wondered vaguely if he was not a demon after all.

There's no reason for you, or anyone else for that matter, to want to rescue me. I'm the most hated criminal of the century. I watched him as I said the words, looking for his reaction. He didn't move a muscle. So now tell me what you're really here for.

He sighed theatrically, the motion expressed by his entire body. Alright, you got me. I'm not here to rescue you, strictly speaking. I said nothing, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I knew how many hated me, wished me dead. I want to recruit you to the Phoenix Ortus.

Before I could process the sentence, he continued on unhurriedly. We need more people like you. People who take action on their beliefs. People who aren't afraid to sacrifice.

I won't force you to join, of course. But it's not like you have any choice, right? He looked around the stark cell pointedly, and I caught a glimpse of a very white, very cold smile. No, you destroyed all that when you lit the match.

I considered his words for a moment. How do you know I won't run away as soon as you break me out?

He shrugged. I figure if you were the type to run away, you would have done so before. Avoided all this mess. Not stand in the middle of the smoking ruins, waiting for them to find what you'd done. Within the last statement was a question, so quiet I almost missed it. It was my turn to shrug. I'd been asked the question so many times, in both anger and grief.

So, what'll it be? I felt the intensity of his gaze even in the blackness. Will you join us, or will you rot for the rest of your days in this cell?

It'll be a darned waste of our time if you say no. A second figure flitted through the window to stand next to the first. Where the man's voice had been easy and rolling like the ocean, hers was short and sharp like the edge of a knife. You were supposed to keep a lookout outside, the man said, more with amusement than annoyance. You were taking too long, she responded with irritation as she turned toward me.

The woman moved fast, faster than I'd have thought possible, putting her face right in mine. I could see the reflection of my eyes in her own golden ones.

Yes or no?

The night was deliciously cold on my face as we raced away from the dark looming structure. Or at least, it felt like we were racing—the ground moved beneath us dizzyingly fast, and my legs could hardly support my weight. The scent of the outside world was intoxicating, making me feel light and woozy. Sirens began to go off, and the woman hissed, We have to hurry. The man murmured back, She can't run properly from being locked in there. She was in a sensory deprivation cell, you know. They both glanced at me then, and without another word, began to half carry, half drag me the rest of the way.

The flight throughout the rest of the night was long and cold, but to me it was a kaleidoscope of color and sound and smells. I remember at one point shrieking uncontrollably in mirth, and the three of us diving into the bushes, the woman's hand clapped firmly over my mouth. You're not making this easy for us, she snarled under her breath.

I may have bitten her hand.

Dawn found us curled up in a dank alley. Cold, numb, exhausted, and bruised all over, but safe. Free.

And for the first time in my life, not alone.

II

I woke to the smell of frying eggs. Bewildered, I sat up and looked around. I lay in a bed that was slightly rumpled and patched. The room itself was bare, except for a rustic dresser, old but very well maintained. I wandered out of the room to find myself directly in the kitchen.

The scene before me was alien in many ways. The man stood in front of the stove, his back to me. He was idly flipping eggs in the pan, wearing a decidedly feminine apron and singing obscene lyrics to popular songs. Long silver hair cascaded down his back, getting tangled in the lacy edges of the apron. A few feet away, the woman sat at the round wooden kitchen table, perusing a newspaper with hawkish attention.

The man noticed me as he turned to grab some pepper. Good morning, Addie! His cheerful face and forcefully effeminate pose sought to make a mockery of my enshadowed memories of him only a handful of nights ago. Perhaps because of my confusion, I snapped reflexively, My name is Admonit.

But Addie is so much cuter, he wheedled, batting his eyelashes, and I realized he was playing some sort of game. It did not put me at ease.

Just ignore him, he's an idiot, the woman said, glancing up from the printed text only briefly.

The man only laughed at this, relaxing from his playacting. I don't believe we've introduced ourselves. How rude of us. He made a deep bow, and the woman rolled her eyes. He then straightened up, quick as a whip. Now, I am known as Alder. You may also call me Lord of the Universe, King of All That Moves, Master of— The woman punched him in the side, but he continued on as if nothing had happened. And this charming lady here, the epitome of all that is delightful, the name of grace— A second punch, less gentle this time. This time it took him a moment to continue. —is Vireen. Vireen nodded in my direction.

Phoenix Ortus

Alder is a really odd guy. He drives me crazy, actually. He constantly walks the thin line between idiocy and genius. Xiao Tian says it's because he's half philosopher, and that's simply what philosophers do. I still have my reservations.

He uses his war-axe with the ease of a seasoned lumberjack, and treats it with even more love. I've been told he even sleeps with it.

Alder has no problem telling us about his past, although he's never told the same story twice. I've only been here for a year and he's told me all variations of stories, including an abduction by assassins, travel with a circus, and in one case, a scandalous escape with a young pretty lady. I can only imagine the stories he's told the others who have been with him longer. Interestingly enough, each of his stories starts the same—a young boy living with his kind father, making a living chopping wood in the remote woods. So I guess that part is true.

Vireen is a mystery, at least to me. She's short in stature, but has plenty of attitude to make up for it—I've never seen the lady anything but cross, especially when it comes to Alder. The two bicker like a married couple.

Vireen doesn't talk about herself, or nearly at all really. When we go on missions together, we just work in silence, which is fine by me. She knows her stuff and that's what matters.

Like me, Vireen was born a Rooster, although her personality seems more like a bird of prey. She uses her weapon, two knives linked together by a silver chain, with medical precision.

Xiao Tian is probably the only one of us that could be considered "normal". As I understand it, Xiao Tian was born and raised in a Tiger gypsy caravan, but you'd never know it from her demeanor—she acts more like a middle-class Rabbit lady.

She does have her odd points, though. She loves peaches and cockroaches, and she can hold her own pretty well in a pinch with a sword. Although her true calling seems to lie with explosives.

I spend most of my time with Xiao Tian; her presence is calming. I've often wondered why Xiao Tian is with us, since out of all of us, she has the best shot at a normal life. Alder mentioned once that she makes the most beautiful paintings.

Profile

And then there is me, Admonit, the latest and final member of the Phoenix Ortus. I have no weapon, no piercing intellect, no great strength. I only have the burning desire for change.

I was born to a wealthy family twenty years ago. Not just any family; my father's lineage is of near royalty and he himself is—was—a commander of the Lioness. I am an only child, as is the custom of noble families. Of my childhood there is not much to be said: the manor was my castle, I was always alone, and I looked down upon the commoners, in imitation of my father.

I truly began seeing the world when I was twelve. (cont)

Portraits

Fanart

Thanks so much Kiru!

Credits

♠ Art, coding, and writing by Solo (paws265)
♠ Background tile by someone else