As weeks passed, the people of Selona began to doubt. After the first month, Princess Lilianna could often be found weeping in her garden. But after nearly three months away, the Legender returned, hair and beard grown out, skinny and sunburned, but very much alive. He spoke his last tale from the castle balcony to a sea of onlookers that spread beyond the sound of his voice.
“Some of you may recall I ventured west into arid wasteland with my trusty steed and a pack mule in tow. As I beheld the stark scarcity of that stony wilderness, I began to carefully ration my stores of food and water. I shall not rhapsodize about scorching sands and sunbaked rocks, or scraggly plants surviving through some miracle of adaptation, or the meager comforts found on the shady side of a bluff. I will skip recounting the abundance of scorpions and venomous vipers or the false promises offered by shimmering mirages and parched gulches.
“I reached a particularly tortured landscape where pools of hot sludge simmered, lava oozed from cinder cones, and towering geysers of scalding steam surged rebelliously skyward. My first glimpses of the phoenix resembled a distant spark in the sky. At night the bird became more distinct, a fiery comet among the stars.
“I tracked the phoenix for days, paying closest attention to where it landed and from whence it rose. I took care not to get too close, but I soon came to appreciate that the fiery bird was at least the size of my horse. I also noted that when hunting or agitated, the phoenix burned brighter, occasionally shedding showers of sparks or exhaling fire.
“My patient observations were rewarded when I located the nest—composed of blackened stones, and large enough to accommodate many full-grown phoenixes. There were no visible eggs, but the phoenix returned to the nest every night. On one occasion I observed a mountain lion stray into the nest, and the phoenix erupted into a blazing inferno. Though the cougar fought fiercely, claws and teeth flashing, the doomed feline was charred beyond recognition and consumed.
“I realized that if I was to have a chance against such a fiery opponent, more patience would be required. It took merely two weeks to find the nest, but I waited nearly two months for a respectable rainstorm, conserving my stores and foraging to survive. Rain is not frequent in that arid landscape, but eventually the air grew humid, leaden clouds filled the sky, and water began to fall.
“I approached the nest warily but with purpose. I did not know when I might get another opportunity to attack in wet conditions. I reached the nest as the downpour intensified, my clothing already soaked. The phoenix glowed faintly, having sought the limited shelter of an overhang, low flames flickering among iridescent plumage. Water pooled at the bottom of the depression.
“I climbed into the nest and attacked the bird with a spear. The phoenix had its head tucked under a wing and did not sense me coming. I drove the spear in deep, then backed away and began firing arrows.
“With a wailing screech, the phoenix blazed brighter, gouts of flame issuing from where the spear had penetrated and where the arrows struck. The bird came out from its shelter, and the pouring rain hissed as the droplets were vaporized. Falling back, I continued to launch arrows as the downpour quenched the flames. The phoenix collapsed in the pool, wings flapping feebly, and, with sword drawn, I advanced and severed the head.
“The bird took on a peculiar glow, as if an inferno raged internally, and then collapsed into flaky ashes. As the pile of ash began to absorb water and turn to sludge, I remembered tales of phoenixes being reborn from their cinders. I gathered an armful of sodden ashes, then hurried to the edge of the nest and scattered them. I repeated the process many times, hurling goopy handfuls in various directions.
“I wanted to disperse the remains as completely as I could. I packed some of the soggy ashes back to my horse and my donkey, mixed the remnants with their oats, and fed the combination to them. My horse refused to consume much, but the donkey ate with gusto, perhaps because I had not been generous with the feed until that point. In the spirit of camaraderie, and quietly hoping to perhaps derive some benefit, I also ingested some of the ashes.
“My donkey became sluggish and died the next day. I feared my horse and I might suffer the same fate, but though I endured a debilitating stomachache, we survived. Evidently I scattered the ashes sufficiently, because though the pool at the bottom of the nest turned into boiling sludge, the phoenix was not reborn. I waited several days to be sure. Under the overhang in the nest, I recovered a single magnificent feather, which I display to you now. I declare the threat of the phoenix over and the western waste open to all who care to venture there.”
Konrad came down from the balcony, and the crowd pressed forward to view the phoenix feather, easily the most impressive of the Legender’s mementos, glinting red and orange with an inner light. True to his word, within a year the king abdicated, replaced by King Konrad, Lord Protector of Selona. In the following years, Lilianna bore him two sons. His daughters grew tall and fair, and the Legender governed well. Selona prospered under his leadership, free from the major threats that had once frightened the populace and frustrated expansion.
Some might argue that the kingdom prospered
