He shakes his head in disbelief. “I don’t get it. I mean…How could she possibly…”
I smile again. “Might never know. But I have to say, you were spot on with your nickname for her, Farian. All Imelda did was snap her fingers. And here we are, enjoying all the something she made out of nothing. If I were you, I’d give up on trying to figure out how she did it and just be thankful she did it at all. Be thankful the Alchemist thought your pockets were worth filling.”
He nods, keeps quiet, and pockets all of it. We sit and talk a little while longer, but he’s too excited to stay for long. He heads on home, talking about some video he’s already got in the works. I nod him off as the sun starts to rise. It’s quiet now. Later today, the Ashlords who board their horses here will start to arrive. They’ll come to collect their phoenixes so that they can ride them into the kind of bloody battles this world hasn’t seen in decades.
There’s more than enough work to keep me busy, but I sit up on the nearest fence and watch the sunrise instead. I don’t know if Imelda’s alive. I really don’t. But today it’s enough to stand here watching the sunrise and hope that somewhere she’s setting out her ashes, adding all the right components, and resurrecting a beautiful new phoenix.
I like to think that someday she’ll ride it back to us.