Phoenix

Initiation Part 2

Ash found herself standing on the beach again, the chunk of burnt out coal in her hands. Eli stood before her, a halo of fire against his back, arms reaching. "Are you okay?" His voice was thick with concern.

She looked around. Everyone was gone. The beach was empty. "What happened? Where did everyone go?"

Eli wasn't listening. His eyes were distant, unfocused and his mouth was spread in a tight, thin line. "I was so worried I'd lost you," he whispered, pulling her against his body, so close she could feel his laboured breath on her neck. She was so shocked, all she could do was stand in his arms, wrapped in his scent, the heat of his skin through his robe like an open furnace.

"They say if you don't pass the initiation, you die," Eli said.

"Would've been nice to have been told that," Ash said, voice muffled against his robe.

"What difference would it have made?" Eli said. "Everyone's got to go through it some time." He took her hand. "Come, let's walk."

Confused, she let him lead her to the water's edge where the beauty of the night relinquished her concerns. The sky was an abyss into which she could fall forever. The moon was clear and the sea glassy, so glassy, she could see her own reflection in it.

Or was it her reflection?

She peered closely at the woman in the mirrored meniscus. It was her and yet, it wasn't. Her eyes were no longer amber, but light brown, and her brown hair so long, it reached her thighs. She was a strange distortion, stretched out, and enhanced. It was like looking at a high resolution version of herself—skin, eyes, hair, darkened and enhanced, more glossy, more beautiful that she could've ever imagined.

Her fiery red robes had been altered to plunge low at the neckline and pull tight at the hips, giving feature to the full crease of her bosom and her smooth, unblemished décolletage. She realised what was happening. She wasn't Ashalia Valesca anymore, but Heather, the shadow that kept following her around.

This must be the second part of the test,Ash thought. This isn't really happening.

The thought was both liberating and terrifying. She tried to run, but her feet weren't quick enough and Eli's arms were around her in an instant. "Eli..." she began to protest, but it was no use. His hands were moving against her skin, his scent playing havoc with her senses.

Then, his lips were on hers and it was all over. She couldn't think, she couldn't see straight, the sensation was fire. His hands pawed at her satin robe, fiddling with the ties. She sighed and let him peel back the fabric so that their bodies could finally touch, skin-to-skin, heat-to-heat. Hot runnels travelled through her like shockwaves, puncturing her heart. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced—different from kissing Gus in a thousand different ways.

Her robe fell to the sand and Eli pulled back just enough to glance down at her moonlit body. He sighed, "Heather."

And just like that the spell was broken. Just like that—as though someone had flicked off the hot water in a lust-filled shower, leaving her trembling and exposed. She pulled away, gasping as the electric heat of his embrace went cold.

"What's wrong?' Eli said, his unfocussed eyes crinkling with confusion.

"I can't... " she began and tried to step away but he wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her in tight. He whispered in her ear, "So beautiful."

She relented in his arms, went slack as a flower in the sun when she felt a change in his body. His arms thinned against her back, his scent—log fires and candle wax—shifted to the salty brine of the ocean. Long hair tangled in her fingers, silkier, wavier, bright red. She pulled away to find herself staring into the disapproving face of Miki.