then i'll raise you, like a phoenix

When he woke up for the first time, as a little wisp of fire, he knew he had died.

He didn’t know how he had, or how he knew he had, he just knew it as a fact. As irrefutable as the air around him, or the giant bronze dragon who he seemed to be tethered to.

Or maybe he wasn’t tethered to the dragon – that was just the first thing he’d noticed. It was flying and he went along with it, despite not moving at all, so he figured at first it must’ve been that. There was someone else sharing the space though – a burnt husk of a body that was definitely dead. Most their body was charred, their shirt barely holding together. He studied the person’s face, noting the almost elfish features. His hair was half melted and matted into one vague blob, but judging by the few strands that had escaped that unfortunate fate it had probably been curly originally. They looked scrawny at first glance, but the muscles near his shoulders and back were much more defined. The wisp wondered if they’d worked with hammers before dying, and then wondered why that was the first thing he’d thought of.

An empty syringe was stuck in their arm, which was slowly pulled out by a small mechanic arm that retreated back into the bronze dragon. The little wisp hovered squarely above their chest, only around the size of a basketball. He might’ve been stuck to that guy instead.

Fucking sick dragon, the wisp thought. Rest in piece to that guy though.

They suddenly started descending towards a completely geographically isolated island. There was someone waiting on the beach, and the wisp felt it in whatever he had for a metaphorical heart that he was not welcome. They had an aura of power that permeated his every sense, he could smell the way they had full control over this space. Felt it in the way the wind around her that could smother him if he got too close. He sunk into the metal plating of the dragon, getting distracted by the way the gears moved as the dragon moved lower and lower. When they landed, he heard something pop out of place with a loud clang. He moved over to investigate, relieved to find it wasn’t anything too important – a remnant of what the dragon had been before.

What it had been before? Why did he think it had been something before? The little wisp’s body flared and dimmed again, almost like his own way of shaking his head. He heard the person move closer to Festus, sand shifting.

“You’re late.” they said.

There was no reply. The silence stretched out. The dragon creaked, though the wisp wasn’t sure if that was because it was saying something or if it was just general disrepair.

“Leo…?”

Leo? Was that their name? The wisp felt himself glow a little brighter. He let that thought distract him as the person walked a little closer. He flickered as their aura got closer, holding himself together in the unintentional interference. He heard as they paused, a horrible, strangled breath being let into their lungs. And then they screamed and he felt like he was disappearing.

The little wisp dimmed, flickering amongst the gears as if he were rooted in place. The scream turned to cries, which turned to muffled sobs. The dragon itself seemed to get in on it, clicking and whirring and whining like it too was grieving. This Leo guy must’ve been liked for this sort of reaction. The wisp wondered if somewhere someone was grieving for him just like this.

Everything was quiet after that; he could hear the person outside move the body – Leo’s body – off the dragon. He felt himself get tugged through the dragon’s body, but willed himself away so he wouldn’t be found out. For all their grieving that person was still powerful, and they were still dangerous. Who was to say that they wouldn’t blame him for Leo’s death? They, after all, had been burnt to death, and he was made of fire.

Had he killed Leo? The obvious answer seemed to be no. He didn’t know who he was – if he’d even been anything before. But there was some little voice telling him that yes, he had. And that was a cheery thought, his first day (back?) alive and he was already a murderer. Even more reason to continue hiding, really. He watched through the plates of the dragon’s armour as they wrapped a shroud around him – embroidered in golden fire and gods was that ironic. He wondered if Leo appreciated the irony – he certainly did.

He watched as the person put a golden coin into Leo’s mouth and felt the tether connecting them fade. He wondered what that could mean. Was he alive to now atone for his murder? Was this a second chance to see if he could be better?

He thought it had to be. As the person clambered onto the dragon’s back and it took Leo’s shroud in its claws, the wisp felt his will resolve. He would make up for this, for the grief he’d apparently cause these two. Leo was dead, and now it was up to him to continue living. A little wisp, without a name or idea of who he was. He decided that would probably be the first step, giving himself something to go by. As they dragon fly, the wisp now consciously holding on to not be left behind, he thought.

Coming up with a name was difficult, he discovered. Especially when he had no basis for names in general. He wondered if he could call himself simply Dragon, if that was allowed by people. Maybe he should just go by Fire or Flame, considering that’s what he literally was. Then he started spiralling – how did he know he was fire? How did he know these words despite knowing nothing else. He felt like he knew people had to learn language, so why was he already well acquainted? Was he just some sort of prodigy? What was he?

He pondered that for a while, growing more and more frustrated because it seemed that was the only thing his otherwise expansive knowledge of the world had no answer for. It was only after they arrived at land – a giant city with towers stretching far into the sky – did he let himself fall through the plates of the dragon and away from the scary lady. He felt himself pass through the burial shroud, feeling himself burn brighter like he was being blessed in some sort of way.

He made up his mind, and as he fell, he named himself Leo.