“AAAAARGH!”

“WATCH OUT!”

“I can’t see! OW!”

“RAWR!”

Bursts of fire encircled the darkness until –

“Here! Oh!”

Melody’s light had lit; however, many Nightmares were attacking the team.

“Anti-lullabies!”

Zelda screamed and yelled, as a Nightmare slashed at her sleek body.

“AAAAARLALALLALALALALALALALA!”

The Nightmare leapt back in sudden fear and clamped its black paws around its ears.

“LALALAAAAAAAAAALALALALALALALALALA! LALALALAGOAWAY!”

Zelda’s voice turned from loud to clear to ear-splitting but extremely croaky, making the anti-lullaby more and more effective. The rest of the Mythicals joined in near the end, creating a noise that would have easily won the loudest, and most unbearable sound ever made in a history of histories.
“Lucky I don’t have ears! I mean, I can still hear, but…well, they won’t break!” Zelda grinned.
“Reckon Kosuke’s gonna send more? Must be dumb if so!” Birdhead laughed.

“You shall not speak ill of our Great Master, let alone say his name of light!”

Birdhead yelped and ducked as a dark figure loomed across him. He shot a quick burst of fire and the Ashdragon roared. Beakfall growled and strangled the stealthy dragon as another one flew from the midst of the dark trees. Peachu instinctively made herself invisible.
“WHERE ARE THEY ALL COMING FROM?!”
Zelda ducked as an Ashdragon attempted to punch her from the back.
“HMMMM.”
Peachu dashed around invisible watching the movements of the forest’s darkness.
“Melody! Behind you!”
Melody’s light vanished as she ducked and swung her tail over the dark shadow, pushing it under her talons. There was a burst of bright fire and the Ashdragon fell limp.

“There’s an invisible one!”

Peachu ducked as the dark fires of Ashdragons filled the gloom of the Dark Forest.
“Is everyone alright?” she yelped.
“YES, but there’s Ashdragons everywhere! And Melody is SO FREAKING LAME BECAUSE SHE IS TOO SCARED TO USE HER POWERS!” Zelda roared.
“Sorry, SORRY!”
In a couple of seconds everything the forest was visible…except the Ashdragons. Birdhead ducked and dashed to and fro, not managing to land a single hit. He tilted his head towards Beakfall for guidance.
“You need to test your own power for this one, Birdhead.”
“…Power…?”

And suddenly, Birdhead felt himself draining and leaving the world…no, not now…!

“Kreature! Over here! NOW!”
A small, black-feathered bird flapped his wings loftily and bowed down at his master. Its features were somehow familiar…almost…almost like a phoenix.
“Kreature, tell me – what is of the phoenix King?”
“He…he still grows strong, Master, along with his diligent brother…Birdhead…”
“DO NOT SPEAK THE NAME OF LIGHT! When you are under the almighty Demonash King’s rule, you are to obey his EVERY COMMAND.”
“Yes, Master.”
“What about the Flame? Is it ready?”
“I’m afraid not, Master. It is a powerful one, as it says in its name, The Fire of Power. I think…It will not be ready until sixty-one sun revolutions have passed.”
“WHAT? I need it now! The Phoenix King of Blue and Gold is growing stronger by the minute! Tell those demonphoenixes to hurry!”
“Master, they only started a sun revolution ago, you cannot blame them!”
“ARE YOU TRYING TO CONTRADICT ME! SILENCE!”

The dark phoenix bowed its head lower…the dark blood red eyes of Demonash piercing Kreature’s innocent, but infested feathers.

Birdhead awoke and found the Mythicals fighting with claws and fire around him. Even if he had barely known them in the past, they were fighting for him, for the peace and prosperity of the land. The phoenix’s mind buzzed with thoughts, until he finally came around.

A whip of wind sped past his face, and Birdhead realised it was Peachu. Beakfall lunged at unsuspecting Ashdragons, clawing their bodies into puffs of violet smoke. The battle seemed to last forever, every fighter persevering the opposing side. Birdhead’s teammates seemed to realise this too.

Melody growled and slashed at an Ashdragon.
“When will this STOP?”
She roared, and a burst of fire filled the scene. It continued to make its way through the dense forest, penetrating fireproof Ashtrees. The phoenixes joined, rotating their bodies, sending bursts of fire in every direction.

Suddenly, the world stopped.

The Ashdragons fled in every direction, the Mythicals stood stunned, and a beacon of flames dashed into the dark sky. It morphed into the shape of a terrifying dragon, then it shrank, and a spark of golden light urged the seven to move on.

The Mythicals reached a small, floating shape, its body sleek and plump. Two horns grew from the top of the head, both making a shape of a flipped ‘S’. It was another Ellemendragon, its body like fire.
“Dinroar.”
Beakfall said the name with a hint of warmth and joy, and a smile was etched in his expression.
“Aaaah, yes. It is good to see you again, dear Beakfall. Thousands of years have passed in a blink of an eye, immortality is such a great and terrifying feat, is it not?”
“Indeed, yes. I wonder…Could you tell us the location of Nayroar, possibly?”
“Yes, let me try to remember. Seek power, seek courage, lastly, seek wisdom. In the dense forest, snow never falls, but in only one place – the Snow halls. Its trees are the walls, and if you touch the snow with fire, it will turn to ice. That is what Nayroar told me. I have not the sight to see any distant snow, however.”
“Interesting. Well, we will…see eachother after, yes?”
“If you succeed.”
Beakfall nodded and backed away.
“We should hurry.”
He flapped his wings nervously and glanced around. Looking at Birdhead, he sighed and closed his eyes, before turning away.

“I see snow. Follow me.”
Zelda looked at the hippogriff with worry then glancing at Birdhead, before slithering after Beakfall. Myrtlelana nodded and looked at only Lionessfire, who seemed to have achieved a great amount of victories during the battle.

The walk was quiet, and nobody talked. Beakfall’s worry swept over the seven like a cold hailstorm destroying their voices as each ice cube fell. Being the most intelligent one of the Mythicals, his feelings affected them all.

Birdhead barely noticed a single snowflake landing on his beak. The scene became something more of a beauty than gloom. Snow fell everywhere the phoenix could imagine. Sunlight shone over the ground; a white spire seemed to grow in the middle.
“Dinroar said something about fire against snow creating ice. Faroar said that a burst of ice would revive Nayroar,” Lionessfire said, breaking the silence.
“So…” Myrtlelana looked at the others and burst flames at a falling snowflake.
It turned into a shard of solid ice; the sphinx suddenly snatched it. On touching the shard, her body transformed into a flash of light blue. Her hair, tail and wing morphed into a colour so white that even the cleanest bit of white diamond could not beat it.
“Woah!” Peachu yelped.
With a determined look on her face, Lionessfire sent a burst of ice to the white spire. It changed in a heartbeat, twisting down and growing multiple blue horns at the end of its head. Its body was a shade of light blue like Lionessfire, its white eyes blending into the snow below.
“Welcome back, Nayroar.”
Beakfall tilted his head forward politely and lifted it back up. The light-coloured Ellemendragon smiled and returned the same gesture.
“You are just like you were those years ago, Beaky.”
The hippogriff nodded, grinning.
“Right now, you are near the castle of shadows. The Great Ash nears, and he will not show mercy. To enter the mountain is easy, to fight, difficult. When you enter, there may be no more Ashdragons left to guard, but there is Ashgle, the Dark King, waiting for your ultimate arrival. You must not prevail. The fight nears and so does death, and you are to be ready for it. Understand?”
The Mythicals nodded. Nayroar’s words were serious and cold. She morphed suddenly into a blue fairy-like animal; its wings spread on the back of a small dragon. Speedily, it went off into the distance, the Mythicals flying at top speed after it. They knew where they were going to, they knew what they were fighting for, but they did not know if they were ready for it.

They had no choice but to follow.

The Mythicals climbed the stone stairs that were overtaken by withered vegetation. Nayroar had left them at the entrance of the mountain, wishing them luck and giving them her wish of success. Their hearts seemed to pound, following the steps of thousands of cheetahs, but even so, they showed no signs of fear. They followed the steps of the hippogriff, walking in silence, perhaps pondering about the battle skills they had never learnt.

Neither knew if they were to die or kill, but neither liked either word. Their silence was a pain and their footsteps fear, but they moved on courageously, bearing determination and hope.

Birdhead watched the walls slide slowly away. He watched himself pass many windows. The scene of the overtaken outside seemed to cling onto him hopelessly, as if they just wanted to be with him one last time before he faced the nightmare of nightmares.

“Tsssk, tssk, lame, unintelligent mythicimals…”

The voice seemed to pierce the group’s heart, creating such a cold and vicious feeling tears tried to restrain the sound.

“Since when was it such a great idea to face the land’s most powerful one? All of you foolish beings.”

Beakfall hissed.

“And I remember you, Beakfall, or shall I say, the light, The Sacred Light?”

Zelda looked in shock at Beakfall.

“You keep many secrets, don’t you?”

Ashgle leapt off the stone platform, laughing maniacally, and landed on the large, wide, stone ground.

“And, for a start, let’s wipe out some courage, eh?”

With a flap of his wings, a tornado of ash whipped around, stopping in front of the terrified Mythicals. With a swift movement, and in one, atrocious heartbeat, the fire around Birdhead’s neck extinguished.

A moment of silence passed. Shock covered the room. Ashgle laughed.
“It was surely a nice trick to teach myself, isn’t it?”

And he created a large ball of surging power, cracking the ground in half, where an endless void waited – precisely where the immobilised Birdhead stood. He did not move his wings to save himself, as he knew the fight was over, the Fire gone. He fell, like a heaving boulder, plunging to his doom.

When the fire died, courage will hide,
But is it truly the end?
Should the light attend, or leave to bend,
The truth of the ash before it would lash?
But is it light that should arise,
Or the heartfelt love of the demise?
For the son of the hate, is not that late-
For he is here to save the falling great.
Behold, it is the beginning, the beginning of the end,
The disasters and hate, shall it mend:
For the King has risen
The phoenixes will sing

Awake and behold! The king is here
That the last phoenix king was the Hajime

His spirit trapped in time, for he

Last King was not free.

He saved courage, he put up a fight,
He was the one that created undying light
Trapped in time, moving in time,
That the last phoenix king was the Hajime, fine.

Destruct the darkness,
Create the light
Show the meaning
Of the endless fight.

That the last King was Hajime the Great,
His spirit not free –
For those to create.