FIREBIRD
Celebwen Telcontar: I know it’s been a while. My muse just ran away from me for no reason!
Balrog: Why? You can’t just abandon people here!
Celebwen Telcontar: Hey! I can if I want to, you big flaming bug!
Balrog: Big flaming bug. That’s new. As for the Firebirds, most of them are ours. Morning Glory, Excelsior, Norris, and Bandoman. We also own two other Firebirds; try and figure out who they are!
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The wind whipped through the trees of the Dark Forest, lashing fine airborne volcanic ash through the air, and turning the sky a deadly shade of blackish grey. Harry Potter-Snape, the adopted son of the Potions Master, stood on the ramparts of Hogwarts, his nares extended fully to gain as much information from the ash as possible. He lifted his wings, fanned them twice, then leapt gracefully off of the wall, plummeting almost to the ground before snapping his wings out and soared out towards the eruption.
It’s Yellowstone, he thought. The Yellowstone Caldera has erupted! Oh, bugger. This is so not good! He was about to wheel and go back to Hogwarts, when he saw a group of shapes flying towards him.
“Gryphon! Firebird!” someone cried. A Firebird glided up to him, his crest going every which way, and his wings angled like a falcon’s, for the best speed. “I am Norris. Myself, one of my two brothers, Excelsior, and my mate, Morning Glory, were manning the Yellowstone Caldera, but had to let it blow to keep it from blowing out of our control later. A small eruption, much unlike the Huckleberry Ridge eruption, is much better than a larger one.”
“Why in Hephaestus’s name are you telling me this?” Harry asked.
“Because, Manor-On-The-Hill, you are the resident Firebird. Merlin, you’re young, aren’t you?” one of the two males asked.
“I’m sixteen years old. And why do you call me Manor-On-The-Hill?”
“Because you’re the resident Firebird. We always take names off of the local geography. This place used to be a place called The Hill. Hogwarts constitutes as a manor, thus Manor-On-The-Hill. He’s barely a fledgling, Nor,” the female said softly.
“I understand, Glory. But still… to be holding the lands of Great Britain all by himself, at sixteen—”
“Yes, and at sixteen you two idiots were off trying to get yourselves killed!”
“Who are you?” Harry asked Morning Glory.
“Morning Glory. I was named after—”
“Your Human name, Firebird!” Harry snapped. His patience was wearing thin from these three Firebirds. Who were they and what right did they have to encroach on his territory?!
“Uhh… it was… I was killed fifteen years ago by a murderer in the Human world… I was… My name was… it was a flower… Lily. That was it! Lily Evans Potter!”
“Uhhhhhh…” Harry said, nearly falling out of the air. “If any of you two try anything, anything, especially attempted murder, again, you’ll have me to deal with. Now come, the lot of you. I’ll bet that the two of you are James Potter and Sirius Black, right?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“For the Goddess’ sake! My crest is just as crazy as his. Please forgive me if I reiterate the known, but I am Harry.”
“My... my... Harry?” Lily, or Morning Glory, whispered.
“Yes, now come with me so that I can take you to Albus.”
“Well, lad, you’re good,” a wise and venerable voice said. Harry looked around to see an old Firebird, fanning her wings every now and again. He could tell that she was nearly blind, and her feathers and coat were a deeply silvered red and gold. She looked more like the color of molten rock than the color of fire, but she was also extremely ancient. “Manor-On-The-Hill, you are the greatest Firebird to hold the British Isles section of land. Since the land itself is quite non-volcanic save a small portion of Ireland, that is not a big feat. However, you are the descendant of one of the most venerated humans we have known, and thus our kind knows of you.”
“Who? Who’s my ancestor?”
“The oldest Firebird, Arda-i-Nar. He mated with Nariel, the first female Firebird. As such, you are strong, Manor-On-The-Hill.”
“What is going on here?” Lily Potter’s reincarnation asked the ancient female Firebird.
“I am going to train Bandamon—”
“What? What was that word?”
“Bandamon? It is Manor-On-The-Hill’s name in the Ancient Tongue.”
“Alright,” James Potter’s reincarnation said firmly. “But you aren’t training him; we are. We haven’t had enough time with him as is, only a little more than a year.”
“Hey, what about me? What am I, dog food?” Sirius’ reincarnation snapped.
“No, none of you will train him! I am more capable, since I am older!” Celebailin snarled. Bandamon had had enough. He flew from the edge of the field that the three of the other Firebirds bickered.
The oldest Firebird soon caught up to him.
“Bandamon, come with me. We can visit a sacred Firebird place of healing. I should have come far sooner, but the Yellowstone caldera was unstable, and I had been hibernating.”
“We hibernate?” Bandamon asked.
“When it gets too cold, we go into a stupor and stay that way unless a shock of heat reaches us. You’re the first Firebird born of Human parents. Of course, then again, that could be why your parents turned into Firebirds when they died. The Veil destroys a person’s body and flings them into the body of something else.”
“So why are you here?”
“To help you, Bandamon.” Bandamon wheeled sharply with Celebailin, heading out to the West and out to sea.
The Potions Professor walked through the door, rubbing his face with his hand. Since his return of sanity, he had had a difficult time with the classes. They were more rowdy, and a flying piece of anything could land in someone’s caldron and make the entire school go the way of Mt. St. Helens. He looked at the fireplace, and saw a Firebird, sitting calmly next to his couch.
“Who are you?!” he snapped. He knew this wasn’t Harry; this Firebird’s crest was too tame. Its eyes were killing-curse green, the same as Harry’s, and its coat was the same shade as his son’s, however the unknown Firebird also was smaller than Harry, and its beak was more golden.
“Hello, Severus,” the Firebird started, revealing that she was female. Severus looked at the creature, and nodded at it.
“Yes, Firebird?” he asked acidicly.
“You still haven’t lost your wit, have you, Severus?” The voice woke a part of him he thought was dead.
“Lily…”
“Here’s where we land,” Celebailin called over the roaring sea. A large mountain reared out of the ocean, its jagged peak higher than the clouds. It was a tiny place, and entirely volcanic. The ancient female Firebird landed on the slopes of the steep mountain, waiting for him to do so as well. Bandamon went into a sharp dive, missed his landing place, and smashed into a large group of juniper trees.
“Bandamon!” Celebailin called, rushing over to him. His wings were splayed across the prickly brush, and his left hind leg throbbed sharply. “Where are you? What have you fallen into?” she asked. “I can only see your heat-signature.”
“I’m in a group of bushes.”
“Try to get out. I can’t see anything save heat signatures these days.”
“Hello, Celebailin,” a voice called. A small Firebird rounded the corner of a rocky outcrop, and started to push through the juniper branches to get to Bandamon.
“Hello, Bulge,” she replied, lounging then closing her eyes and going to sleep.
“Hey, Newcomer. What’s your name? I’m Bulge.”
“My name is Bandamon. I’m the British Isles Firebird.”
“Oh, so you get the easy part while we’re all in who knows where! What do you think of the eruption? Pretty cool, huh?”
“Yah, cool.”
“We started it. The rest are just around here.” Bulge supported Harry on his uninjured side, so the younger Firebird could limp over to the large conglomeration of Firebirds.
“Hello, youngling,” a deeper red female Firebird called. She went back to ripping shreds of meat off of a dead deer. “I’m Lahar, dear. I used to be assigned to Mt. Rainier in Washington.”
“Uhhh…” Bandamon said.
“We should introduce ourselves,” another male Firebird said. “I’m Wizard. I used to hold Mt. Mazama, now Crater Lake, in Washington State.” He had a slicked back crest, and he stood as though for a portrait, not a feather moving.
“I’m Pahoehoe. I used to hold the Hawaiian island chain. How are you doing, sweetheart? Was your flight alright? All this ash in the air is so invigorating, isn’t it?” the Firebird burbled.
“Pahoehoe, don’t babble,” Bulge said, coming up. “Well, that’s everyone here, so far. We’re having a Firebird Masters conference here for the next three weeks. Hopefully our apprentices can handle everything…”
“I’m sure they can, Bulge,” Pahoehoe said. “After all, Aa and Dome were trained very well.”
“Hopefully just as well as Lake and Glacier.”
“Your siblings will be fine, Bulge!” Pahoehoe reassured her mate.
“Incoming!!!” Wizard shouted, moving out of the way.
“Hola, mi amigos! Como estas?” a brilliant orange Firebird called as he landed. An identical one landed right beside him, obviously the first’s twin.
“I’m Flurge—” the second one started, only to be cut off by his twin.
“And I’m Slow—”
“We are—”
“The Mexican—”
“Firebirds!” the two said, as if they were Fred and George.
“Surge and Flow!” Bulge cried out.
“Oh, no!”
“It’s the—”
“Crazy Mount—”
“Saint Helens—”
“Bulge!” the twin Firebirds chorused.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Bulge said as if he were getting some ridiculous award.
“Surge and Flow are twins,” Pahoehoe said softly to him. “They regulate Mt. Popocatepetl and Mt. Colima in Mexico. They just showed up one day, and took over from old Field, who was holding both of them.”
“Hey, dudes!” a voice called from above. A strange Firebird landed, rolling carelessly. His feathers were an eye-blinding shade of green and his coat was a sickening lemon-yellow. “Righteous place you got here, dudes!”
“That would be Stone. We think he might have eaten some drugged up humans back in the 1960’s, but we’re not sure,” Pahoehoe explained.
“So who’s the greaser?” Stone asked, looking in Bandamon’s general direction.
“This is Bandamon, Stone,” Lahar said. “Bandamon, Stone watches the San Andreas fault, which is probably why it is so notorious.” Stone didn’t react to Lahar’s death glare, just sat woozily.
“Stone! Who’s watching the San Andreas?” a new voice called. A group of about ten Firebirds landed, flaring their wings and looking at Bandamon curiously.
“Gimmie some skin, Sumo!” the Hippie Firebird said.
“Go away, Stone. Who’s watching your sector?” the Firebird repeated.
“Chill out, dude! Nothin’ll happen.”
“Stone, you go back to your sector! It’s only your fault that you can’t hold an apprentice! And my name is Shoji, not Sumo!”
“Re-lax, man!”
“Go on, Stone,” another Firebird snapped. “You might find yourself watching Nevada beachfront property! Good evening, youngling. I am Shoji, the guardian of Japan. This is my daughter, Rangitoto, the New Zealand guardian. Her children are Jökull, Rift, Pumice, and Ifaisteio.”
“Those names are a mouthful,” Bandamon protested.
“They are all in the native tongue of their region,” Shoji said proudly. “Rangitoto is in New Zealand, Jökull is in Iceland, Pumice is in Italy, Ifaisteo is in Greece, and Rift is in Africa.”
“Shoji! Stop jabbering!” a female Firebird scolded. “I’m sorry, dear. My name is Plinia. Shoji is my mate.” Bandamon shook his head, sending loose feathers everywhere.
The other Firebirds milled around, talking to old friends. The Hippie Firebird soon was ostracized into a niche of rock, where the tie-died Gryphon just watched the proceedings. Soon, Celebailin came walking up to a large outcropping of rock, guided by Shoji.
“We are all here to help the Wizardkind,” she said aloud. The large group of Firebirds looked scandalized at this, yelping that the Wizards didn’t need help.
“Why don’t we?” Surge and Flow said in stereo.
“Because they’re human, blockhead!” a new Firebird snapped in reply.
"Stop being such idiots, the lot of you!" Celebailing snarled. "The world is coming apart at the seams, space and time are running amok, and you are being a group of complete morons! Why do I waste my time with you?! Come, Bandamon. We're gong back to England and letting the world rot!"
Celebwen Telcontar: What do you think? Do you think I should just stop it here?
Balrog: don’t be ridiculous. I actually like this one. It’s got fire in it!
Celebwen Telcontar: (Slowly backs away) A pyromaniac. I should have known… Please review, people!
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