The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix by Ava D. Dohn

up our energy through laughter
and wild romance.”
    Tipping her head back, Lowenah sighed winsomely. “We
would eventually wake in the afterglow of our fervid exuberance
and, in ones and twos, gather in the morning quiet to reflect on
the good times that were had. As the sun would rise into the sky,
the Consort Divine would begin singing the Parting Song, soon to be
followed by another voice and then another, until the entire throng
had lifted their voices in chorus. When finished, a haunting
silence would fill the entire valley. Gradually, the children would
quietly depart, leaving the valley empty until the time of the next
festival.”
    Darla squeezed Lowenah’s hand. “Those must have been
beautiful times, Mother. I missed so much by being born so late.
Tell me, please, how those magic days portend the future days at
the Prisoner Exchange.”
    Lowenah smiled sadly, her dreamy visions of past
fantasies clouding over with regrettable memories. She looked down
at Darla’s hand. “That was the way it used to be, back in the days
of my naivety, when all the universe was innocent.”
    She sat upright, her eyes staring into Darla’s. “My
little Rachel, I am sorry for the things I have done to you, must
do. I do not do things on a whim, but pain I cause when necessary.
Please forgive me.”
    Darla did not understand, but nodded. “Mother,
there’s…”
    Interrupting, Lowenah patted Darla’s hand. “Thank
you. Now allow me to go on.”
    Lowenah sat back, pulling a leg up until her foot
rested on the bunk. Wrapping her arms around her knee, she leaned
forward, staring aimlessly toward the door panel. “Winds changed,
sending a subtle chill through our worlds. It was so small a
change, so small that I could not, would not… refused to
acknowledge it. But there were other hearts that felt the whispers
portending hidden dangers. Those hearts spoke to me and I, even
though I would not accept their warnings, was persuaded to listen
and accept their recommendations. Thus the legends of Lagandow with
its wizards and witches, and sorcerers and magicians were
born.”
    Darla watched an aching frown drift across Lowenah’s
face. She sat silent as her mother closed her eyes remembering,
remembering times and seasons, might-have-beens that were too
painful to recount. During those moments, her mother’s face aged,
weathered, you might say, like an old tree that leans with the wind
because it is too tired to stand tall. Mother was a good actor, but
Darla could tell that this was real, no act here. Even for Mother,
there were some things just too evil for her heart to recount.
    Lowenah slowly opened hers eyes, offering a weak
smile. “My dear Tolohe was the first of all my children to gather
her spirit to those Voices. In time, many thousands of years…
longer than have been the ages of your life… my little girl
returned to me, changed by the visions and dreams of possible
future days. I was not pleased at what the Voices had done to her,
but I continued allowing it until many of my children had followed
my daughter’s footsteps into the dark abyss.”
    She began to slowly rock back and forth on the bunk.
“My oldest child, Chrusion, made a half-hearted attempt to journey
into those other worlds, but in the end refused to go, eventually
even questioning the legitimacy of those who placed their feet upon
that path.”
    “Imperceptible at first, at least to my blinded
heart, a rift began to grow between my favorite son and daughter.
In time, the festivals became little more than a practiced ritual
for Chrusion, he playing the part of the prince because his
brothers and sisters demanded it. I guess Tolohe’s heart broke way
back then, but I was unwilling to accept it, I wishing to keep the
wonderful world of my invention just the way it was supposed to be…
just perfect. There was no place for unhappiness. I refused to
allow its existence! I would not accept that my daughter could be
anything less than happy. I did not