I was born in an ordinary Fire Clan village to ordinary flares, and a fourth daughter at that. My mother saw the dusting of sparks on my shoulders and thought they were freckles. My sisters thought it was a skin disease and tried to scrub them off for me. My father said nothing of his thoughts, but he strictly insisted that I keep them covered. While my sisters wore comfortable and loose shirts, I always had something thick with long sleeves over my skinsuit.

  The mark changed with me, grew with me. It spread across my back, the sparks connecting into full flames. When I started conjuring fire, it became brighter.

  I was five when my parents gave it a name: the mark of the phoenix. But even before then, I always knew. Like smoke promises fire and clouds warn of rain, the mark was the phoenix claiming me as her own, and I heard the call on the wind and the whisper of sunlight.

  My sisters were thirteen, twelve and eight when they learned what it meant, for me to be the next phoenix. Only young Antonia showed no signs of interest. My eldest sister Asimina found a hundred petty ways to make me suffer for it, and her loyal follower Amalia was brilliant at keeping her out of trouble with our parents. Antonia did nothing.

  I was nine when the sprites raided our village. It should not have been possible: they destroyed an Air Clan fortress and came well into Fire Clan territory, flooding everything in their path. We lost our home, our parents, our friends and our childhood all at once.

  When the sprites were finally stopped and questioned, it was revealed that they intended to forge a path all the way to the Cloud Palace. They thought they could destroy the mantle and prevent the phoenix from ever rising again. They could not have known--did not know--that I had the mark. The neighbors did not even know. But my sisters blamed me.

  The sprite warriors that rescued us saw the mark, and I was brought to the Fire Palace, to Kyrillos. The Fire Clan leader's smile was bright and his words were dazzling, but his eyes were hard and cold like Asimina's. He was not pleased, as he claimed to be, that the phoenix had been reborn after a century without. He--

  "What happened to the phoenix?"

  I blink, startled from my memories.

  The dragon blinks back at me, waiting. Reading my confusion, he says, "After a century without?"

  "Oh. There has not been a phoenix, not since Korinna was killed by the thunderbird."

  The dragon crouches into a squat to process it all, reverting away from his elf-like form by degrees until sharing the large hall with him is almost unbearable.

  "Can you be less draconic?" I ask hoarsely, holding my hair to keep it safe from his ever-present tornado and leaning away until he absently pulls it back into a more controlled spiral.

  "You'll get used to it." His horns shrink and the feeling of suffocation lessens. "A hundred years without...Surely not. Were there other such attacks? Perhaps others were found, too young to protect themselves."

  I shake my head. "The raid on my home village was unprecedented. Air Clan protects Fire Clan, and Earth Clan protects Bird and Beast Clans." Wisps are strong fighters. In a thousand years, they have not lost any territory. Except once.

  The dragon watches the fish swim by the windows. "What happened after the last phoenix passed?"

  Between us, only one of us was alive that whole time, yet I have to dig through vague memories of boring history books...

  "Korinna was the last phoenix I saw."

  At least we have that in common. "Obviously, the Cloud Palace was sealed, the mantle kept in the throne room as always. Every clan changed leaders at least once, most twice, Bird Clan a hundred times.. Storm Clan and Air Clan separated, and Beast Clan took half of Forest Clan's--" My voice dies from lack of oxygen.

  "There just wasn't a phoenix? No one failed the trials, or died young?"

  I make my inhale audible. How hard is it to ask politely? Just because he is a dragon and has air magic--

  "Learn to control it."

  It took me years of breathing volcanic ash before I started conjuring fire, "Which is normal!" As if I could best an air dragon when I have only had the mantle a few days! Flames lick across my skin, responding to my irritation, but before I can appreciate the warmth it is replaced by unbearable damp air. I try to rub the sensation out of my arms as his wind carries the lake back to the open ceiling. "What keeps the water out?"

  "I do."

  That is a lot of force to be constantly maintaining... "Thank you for saving my life."

  "You expressed that gratitude already. What would stop a marked elf from trying to claim the phoenix mantle?"

  Doubt, fear, family... "Kyrillos?" The flare leader isn't kind, isn't helpful, isn't one to inspire trust or hope, but I cannot imagine him deliberately murdering marked elflings. "He wouldn't stop being the leader of Fire Clan, even if there is a flare phoenix." He even intended for the phoenix to become part of his family, willing or not.

  "Another possibility?" The dragons horns are showing again.

  The distance, the terrain, the inhospitality of Beast Clan. "Apart from natural causes, a phoenix born outside of Fire Clan would have a hard time arriving at the Cloud Palace."

  "How long have elves been so segregated?"

  Evidently, not as long as he has been sitting in this palace in the dark. Although, despite the lack of noticeable light-sources, it is not that dark now that my eyes have adjusted. "Even if it is far, feathers and wisps can travel easily enough. The clans are generally friendly to one another, except.." when they are stealing, or sacrificing strangers to lake monsters. "Elves from other clans sometimes journey to the peaks to see the towers of Cloud Palace." Though, that is a distant viewpoint. Even from the Fire Palace, it was difficult to get to the entrance of Cloud Palace. Especially without alerting the guards and other flares.

  "Your thoughts circle." His sigh disturbs the wall hangings. "Why would fire elves hinder you?"

  "It's complicated."

  The dragon waits, but I do not remember where I stopped and cannot think of when to start again. My childhood can be made glossy and distant, but if I think about last week it will be sharp and personal.

  "Raziel."

  "God bless you."

  "My name."

  Dragons have names? I never knew. "Alexia." Of course, he knew mine from my thoughts already.

  "You do not have to speak aloud, but try to stay focused."

  ----

  We were all four brought to the Fire Palace. At twelve, Antonia remained self-interested. Amalia was far cleverer and prettier at sixteen, and quickly charmed Kostas, Kyrillos's eldest son. And seventeen-year-old Asimina was bolder with no parents to temper her.

  The plan was definitely Amalia's, but she must have been encouraged by Asimina to come up with it. Did they think of it already then, when I was nine and na?ve? Or did it come together in pieces over the last ten years?

  The portal to the Cloud Palace can only be opened by the phoenix or the one marked and destined to become her, but the texts never specified whether that restriction applied to the mantle itself. Their first plan was to test that, though only Amalia managed to make it to the throne room with me. Antonia lost interest on the way to the Cloud Palace portal, and Asimina claimed she could not pass the statues, though she chose a different route from start and we did not see her again until we left.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  I believed that they meant it when they said they wanted to see the palace and to support me. Even when Amalia claimed she only tried to touch the mantle out of curiosity, I thought it could be true. But I saw the look in her eyes, and I watched how tightly she clung to the gossamer fabric when it clearly pained her. Doubt was planted, watered by their quick glances and quiet words on the hike back to the Fire Palace.

  It was Thalia who heard their second plan. Her owl ears picked up on it when she came for her yearly visit. Our friendship was scorned by Kostas, who complained sweetly to Amalia that he could not bear the thought of marrying a flare as pitiful as myself.

  I had noticed his pretenses at interest and knew it was encouraged by his father. Reason being, apart from the prestige, the phoenix's elemental magic and healing powers naturally extend to the phoenix's chosen partner. Amalia thought that as my partner's real partner, she could reap the same benefits.

  "You consider her clever?" The dragon threatens the fish nearest the ceiling with tendrils of air. "Having many ideas does not mean they are good." The fish flee from the strange sensation of wind in the water.

  I never thought about it that way. Amalia's imagination made her formidable in a fight and frustrating to live with, but not everything she tried was effective or impressive. I almost dismissed her attempt to steal the mantle precisely because it was absurd--the mark was far more connected to the mantle than the portal. While they could follow me through it, only I could open it. I could readily believe that she did not truly think anything would happen, even if she could pick it up.

  That a phoenix's power could be so easily stolen is equally ridiculous. After a thousand years, that the water kingdom never tried to keep a living phoenix is telling enough for the impossibility of it. "Less, now that you have made me question it. But she was very good at not being the one to test her theories, usually." The bad ideas always seemed to be Asimina's.

  "You did not take the mantle."

  I touch my shoulder as if I might feel the gossamer cloth there.

  "When your sister tried to take it."

  I didn't think I was ready. I wasn't ready.

  "The portal only opens when the phoenix is ready."

  Easy for the air dragon in his underwater palace to judge--has he ever had a challenge in his immortal life? Ever lost loved ones, ever been betrayed, ever been afraid? Has he--

  He pats my head with a gentle rhythm. "I have." His eyes are soft as ashes. Looking in them, I need a quick, violent cry. When I stop, he blows my tears away with a few little puffs. "Better?"

  I do feel better.

  "If an immature phoenix tries to enter Cloud Palace, the portal will not open. It appeared for you because you were ready, even if you did not feel ready." He pats my head again. "It's been a long time. I forget how elves experience life, with their emotions first." He laughs suddenly, startling the fish above as a tidal wave passes up from the bottom of the lake.

  I do not see what could be funny.

  "It won't be funny forever, but," he turns to me with a face full of mirth, "just now it is amazing that you came here of all places, against your will and intentions." He holds out a hand in an oddly familiar gesture. "Normally, the marked elfling has the friends and family of the previous phoenix to guide her. Now, it would seem I am the only one who counts as such."

  "You?" I never heard of dragons in my studies on the phoenix.

  He catches my hand and presses it. "We can be friends."

  My father--that's who he reminds me of. My father was always so big and fierce, and so gentle with his girls. I wave my free hand at my moist eyes. I cannot cry twice in the same sitting, that would be excessive.

  "Do not misunderstand this: jealousy is common. You want to believe that being from the same family, the same clan, the same land..."

  Being sisters.

  "Betrayal doesn't have to be big to cut deeply."

  "Her third plan was to drain my blood and steal my power that way, day by day, month by month, year after year, for the rest of my life." The longest lived phoenixes were nearly five centuries old.

  The whole palace stops, and the water above dips into the room. I reach across to tug the frozen dragon's sleeve. "I'm so sorry, please don't.." drown us both. There is not enough air in the room to speak, and I cannot look at him while watching the lake approach. I spoke in anger, that he called her betrayal small, but now I am only afraid of death. I don't want to die.

  He takes a deep breath, restoring the room's air current. The lake retreats, the wall hangings and pillars undamaged and dry. "I did not see that." His eyes carry an atmospheric level of pressure, the horns above them ethereally transparent, unlike the scales that line his face and neck.

  I cannot breathe, but it does not seem to matter to my steadily beating heart.

  "You did not think about it."

  "I can't." I gasp at the effort of speech, and he finally shifts into a being I can look at without collapsing. "It hurts."

  "If someone stabs you, taking out the knife will hurt. But a phoenix--any elf--cannot heal without that step." The scales fade. "Try. Take it out."

  I let my mind creep back a month.

  The Cloud Palace throne room was bright and glittering, full of red and gold. The walls were covered in a colorful mural, each of the former phoenixes depicted as heroes haloed in gold and winged with fire. On the ceiling also, she was a picture of beauty and power with her magic represented in images around her.

  It didn't look like me, and Amalia made sure to notice that aloud.

  The mantle hung over the throne, and I could feel the force of it when Amalia tried to touch it. She laughed it off when she finally fell away from it, hiding her angry tears. But I was afraid. Afraid of her and her jealousy, yes, but more afraid of the energy I felt coming from the mantle itself. More than just an object of immense power, it felt alive.

  I told her that I couldn't take it yet. I pretended to try, failed to try. My failure eased her pain, soothed her anger, though not that stinging bitterness of her words. Of course, I wasn't ready. Of course, I was too weak to touch such an immense source of power. We went out together, arm in arm like real sisters.

  We found Asimina and Antonia outside the portal and returned to the Fire Palace all together, and I tried to forget. Kyrillos asked what happened, and they all spun a story for me. It was easy for them to explain how unready I was.

  I glance at the air dragon, but he doesn't comment on my readiness.

  A few weeks passed between my first and second visits to the Cloud Palace, but it only took my sisters a night to think of mocking me for the first. Antonia said nothing, and it was loud. Asimina said everything she could think of. And Kostas kept trying to act interested, with his black eyes full of spite and contempt. Those eyes made me believe it, when I learned Amalia's plans for stealing my phoenix powers.

  The Cloud Palace is supposed to be a place of rest for the phoenix. But when I went to get the mantle, I did not feel safe blinking, even knowing that Thalia was guarding the entrance.

  "They could only enter because you were with them, and you allowed it."

  OH. Is that why Antonia and Asimina were at the entrance? Amalia was the only one who walked with me, and even wanted to hold my hand when the way was difficult.

  "The same is true of the mantle."

  "Then, Amalia could have picked it up if--"

  His, "No" frightens the couch upholstery.

  Right, of course not. One mark, one mantle, one phoenix. No power sharing.

  "You will be able to share your powers, if you are willing. It requires a stronger bond than pretense creates, however, and would certainly not pass to a third person from the second. I meant, she could have picked it up, if there was not hostility between you. It would be no more than a cloak, if she did."

  That is a relief. "And making elixirs from my blood?" How that would look threatens to take shape in my mind, and I focus on the dragon to avoid it.

  But his expression is haunted, and he gives no definitive rejection. Instead, his head tilts down and his eyes close for a moment before looking up at me with pity brimming in a scaled face.

  I cringe, flames sprouting from me in all directions and immediately suffocated by a lack of air.

  "The couch is not fireproof." He gestures the room, like I might become fiery anywhere but here, on his sofa.

  I hug myself, patting my dry arms, grateful for the lack of lake water this time. "Then I was right, thinking it would not be a good place to meditate."

  "Instead, you managed to find the most useful teacher." He smiles. "Underwater."

  He was right--it is funny. I thought myself so unlucky, in my family, in my village, in my clan, in having only one friend, who couldn't even keep me company in exile. What could be more unlucky than being robbed and then sacrificed to a lake? I call fire to my hand and use it to dry my tear-stained face. "Maybe it is the mantle, twisting luck in my favor." I can feel its energy spread across my shoulders.

  "I went in the night, when everyone had gone to bed. Thalia had a carriage waiting, and we left as soon as I came out of the portal. I wanted to go as far south as possible, but then I ended up here," I smile at him, "with an air dragon to guide me in becoming the phoenix." Above, the fish have returned, forgetting that the palace of air is not the place for them to rest. But for me, it is the safest I can be from other flares.

  "Raziel. 'Air Dragon' is just a title, a description of my power and my domain. Each dragon has personality, relationships, interests."

  What interests a dragon?

  "Raziel is interested in art," his breeze whispers around the room, calling my eyes to the decorations that tremble. "I paint, I draw, I carve, I sculpt.."

  What a draconic interest to have, with eternity to master its many forms. The columns look like they were carved by a master; I suppose they were.

  The breeze returns, disturbing my hair. "The phoenix is a concept, a legend, a gift, a miracle. Alexia is an elf, a friend, a sister. Do not forget that."

  But, will I still be Alexia when the phoenix is me?

  ---

  Fire Clan: flares

  Characterized by skin tones that range from pale red to cherry black and curly hair that ranges from bright copper to dark burgundy, flares often have sharp features and evident bone structure--tall noses, small pointed ears, clearly defined jawlines, dramatic eyebrows, etc. Eye color varies from tawny gold to deep red to pure black. Colors and features have no bearing on individual strength.

  Every flare has some measure of fire magic and can withstand (enjoy) extremely high temperatures and bright conditions. We are immune to illness and unaffected by cold (unless water-induced), but suffer (an ir)rational fear of the cold.

  Fire Clan is takes with protecting the phoenix and the Cloud Palace.