jolantru | The Firebird's Tale.

The Firebird gazed sadly at the figure of the prince walking away with his beautiful bride, accompanied by his fiercely loyal wolf. The bride, a beautiful princess with sun-red hair and fair complexion, held a large glittering feather in her delicate hand. It glowed like a miniature star.

The sadness grew in the Firebird’s chest. She would miss the prince. He was such a courageous young man and fortunate enough to have met the princess who was able to defeat the evil witch. They were meant for each other. And herself? She was only a secondary character in the story, the bringer of good hope and luck, the banisher of darkness and evil.

In the end, she had only herself for comfort and for love. Her bloodline was rare. Most men would shy away from her brilliance. The prince did not. He was an exception. Her future looked bleak, un-bright like her feathers. She felt as if the sun was leaving her body. When she knew that the prince and his bride had already left the area, probably to a happy marriage, she changed.

Where the glorious flame-feathered Firebird once stood was a woman, dark of hair and chiseled cheekbones. She hailed from the borderlands, between China and Russia. Self-consciously, she touched her robes, woven with her clan’s patterns. Perhaps, it was just a journey back to her clan village and face a silent night, alone.

She began to pick her way through the forest. It was safe for her, because the animals knew what she was and dared not approach her. She sighed softly and sang:

Alone, I walk-
My wings clipped, my soul
Gone.
Alone, I walk-
My eyes weep, my voice
Gone.
Alone, I walk-
My steps drag, my joy
Gone.

A twig snapped, breaking her semi-trance. She raised her right hand now wreathed in a swirling ball of sun-fire. “Who goes there?” She snapped, feeling braver than she was inside.

A handsome man, older than the prince, but still patrician in his features, appeared. He was dressed in hunting leathers and he held an elegant crossbow.

“I am sorry, my lady. I seem to have startled you.” His voice was warm, like sun-warmed honey. Amber and rich. She savored it.

“I am Prince Albard,” he introduced himself and bowed deep. The Firebird woman smiled warmly. She could look forward to the future now.