“C’mon, Jack! That rare bird’s not gonna wait for us!”

“Says you. You’re not carrying the bigger pack, Lance.”

“That’s what you get for packing so much…”

Two men trudged through the landscape, every step sending up a small cloud of red dust in the dry air. Dark clouds streaked the crimson sky. Lance lifted up his hand and wiped a sheen of sweat off of his forehead as he scanned the sky. Far away, if he squinted, he could see a brief spark of orange light through a distant cloud. Tapping his friend’s shoulder, Lance pointed to it and they started to head towards it.

Escape. Escape. Please, was all that ran through the phoenix’s intelligent mind. Her fiery wings cleaved the thick air quickly as she fled. For some reason, two humans had been chasing her day and night, giving her no rest, shooting with their guns. These humans think they are superior to me, she thought bitterly. Oh no, they’re heading this way… Her dark eyes narrowed. Then she realized that the sun was setting. And she was tired, so tired. If she could, she would have dropped out of the sky. But the fire of life surged through her veins, filling her with the urge to keep going, to never give up until the end. She had an iron will to stay alive, as all wild animals are born with. It was her only salvation.

The phoenix was also getting older, weaker, and each wing flap was slower than the last. She knew that her end was near. The sun dipped and then disappeared below the horizon. She realized that the full moon was rising, sooner than she had expected. Good. She perched on a dusty red mountain and waited. As soon as the full moon was overhead, the fiery bird lifted her orange head to the sky, singing. Every animal, including the humans, within a half-mile radius heard it and cocked their heads. She intensified the melody until fire ran through her blood in a forte of magic. The humans gazed at the silvery moon, and the beauty pierced their hearts.

Suddenly, the phoenix blazed in a solid pillar of all-consuming crimson flame. There was no warning, only the passionate spark in her eyes. It crackled with blood-red sparks, like looking into the depths of a ruby. The fire was brilliant and divine; so captivating you couldn’t take your eyes off of it, but terrible and dangerous too. Even the distant men felt the heat as the phoenix exploded, transfixed by the magic.

The enchanted flames died down as quickly as they had come. The fiery bird was gone from its perch, only a small pile of ash and a voiceless whisper.

“The phoenix, rarest of all birds, is not truly immortal. It dies like any other animal. But with the magic of the night, it will rise from the ashes, reborn!”

On the words, “reborn”, the ashes swirled up, even though there was no wind. They glimmered like the stars above, getting brighter and brighter until it was unbearable to look at them. When you looked back again, a wisp of deep crimson flame in the shape of a phoenix was in the place of the ashes. In a burst of white sparks, a young new phoenix appeared, with all the vitality of youth. Bright orange feathers were in the place of the old ones, a smaller and more muscular body in the place of the old one.

Reborn, the legendary bird looked down upon them challengingly.

The two men fell to their knees and cried. Turning back, they reported that the last phoenix, a threat to mankind, had been killed.

When the full moon is overhead, maybe you too will witness the magic of the phoenix one day.