Flight of the Phoenix (Part 2)

    But again, at the other end of the tunnel, was the same room, but this time with five tunnels. This was getting worse. As he got out of the tunnel marked with a skull over it, doors fell down and sealed all five tunnels, all before he could even react! It was like they appeared out of nowhere. Clearly they were well hidden. At the centre of each door was a blank marble slab. He approached, now regrettably the podium. It read, “If one seeks the light, he must first travel my way. Choose wisely for this time there is no turning back.” What? He panicked! Balthazar could not understand what this meant, so he quickly looked up at the symbols; Sun, Skull, Moon, and Newborn. He looked at the second door more closely... What mystified him was the fact that the slab held no symbol. He tried to get as close as he could, but there appeared to be no engraving. So he started to think about the others. Sun, if one seeks light must he travel towards the sun? Or maybe towards hope? The skull, should one travel in the path of death, or maybe through the realm of the dead? The moon, of course, one must wait for the night to pass before day comes back. Must one give life in order seek the light? He went from one door to the other, thought about the second; must one do nothing to seek light? Does light come through time by itself? After what seemed to be hours he sat down on the floor next to the podium; trapped, tired and clueless as to where to go. Then he closed his eyes. Thinking of the dark place he was trapped in, the freedom that was probably waiting just outside one of these doors. Then he quickly stood up and looked at the second door. He sensed it was the right choice…no, he knew it was the right answer. So he approached it and with one arm raised on the small slab in the middle, sent some soul-fire into it whilst lightly touching it and muttered “darkness”. The door shook and slid down through the floor.

    He looked back at the podium, knowing he would never return. But for some reason he approached it again before going through the tunnel.  The marble slab was empty now, it held no writing. But just below it there was a small opening, like a locker within the stone. He looked inside. There was definitely something in there. Without giving it much thought he put in his hand and pulled out a strange oyster; as big as a fist, red in colour, with a large black gemstone embedded within it. The gemstone itself had a golden symbol just visible beneath it. The symbol looked like; two pyramids on top of each other, one upright, one inverted, connected from their sides with a curved line, like parts of a circle on each side. He touched the gemstone and suddenly the symbol faded only to be replaced by a series of phrases...

“The man of change can read my words, for longer he has stayed.

Though time is his ally, our destiny still lies far away.

His speech is countless, his speech is strange,

though only three can stand my pain.”

 
    He stared at the object as the last words faded and the symbol reappeared once more. Then he remembered, he needed to get out. So he put the object in his backpack and ran towards the now open tunnel. At the end was a very small pool of water. Oh heck! Not again! Without much thought or preparation he jumped in. The tunnel was short, maybe three feet; he could make it to that distance without air. As he reached the end the tunnel there was another tunnel straight above him, probably 10 or 15 feet high, but he could see the light from the surface. He gave a strong push with his feet on the floor and quickly rose up the tunnel until he broke the surface with a huge gasp for air.  

    The light was blinding, but soon enough his eyes grew accustomed to it. He crawled on the edge, and stood up. He was on the edge of a cliff; behind him the vast array of the Mediterranean mountains that separated the middle part of the continent from the east: his home. Nature filled the land; it was as if mankind did not inhabit it. The continent of Neopangea was indeed magnificent. His joy gave him a warm feeling inside which intensified and spread all over his body. The warmth comforted him, but it kept on growing and growing, until he started to feel the pain from the heat inside. It was as if a fire ignited within him and flowed through his veins… again. No! In his hour of triumph, was he to meet a doom he did not understand? But he had no time for sorrow for a new pain erupted; his fingers started to stretch and fuse, his hairs increased and spread to what was looking like red feathers. The pain from the transformation was overwhelming, such that he fell, pulling his feet tight to his body so tight, that he had now assumed the foetal position, but he did not touch the floor; he was hovering over the ground. The pain stretched all over his body as it contorted, changing shape; something protruded out of the bottom of his spine, the bone from his face grew outwards tearing away the skin, the nails from his feet felt as if being pulled outwards slowly, the hairs of his feet expanded through his skin to form what looked like scales. The pain was unbearable and his cries echoed all over the mountains. With a small thud his feet met the ground… eyes closed, numbness absorbing his body as the transformation ceased and the pain stopped. But the fire still burned inside. Balthazar stood there in his new form; a six foot tall bird, blazing red feathers, of which few of them formed a long tail. He had three long golden braids made out of scales coming out of his head, and three larger ones with his tail. The comforting fire within reminded him of his joy, and the pain was already forgotten. With a sense of achievement growing inside, he spread his wings and burst aflame as he flew up high into the sky towards his home… towards freedom!