Somebody Stop Us: [ch 11, 12]

Chapter 11: The Copy-paster

"SPLIT!" I barked, focusing all my will on creating not just any duplicate, but specifically on one containing my own soul. It was perhaps a bit of a gamble, but then again, thanks to Vespera I knew that my four-fold soul could move from body to body. Duplication was the current core skill and I innately understood that during the moment of duplication the duplicated flesh was basically an extension of my own body.

As I visualized copying myself and moving my own soul into the copy a rush of vertigo hit me, the world spinning as my vision doubled, tripled, and finally settled. I was suddenly looking at myself—my old skeletal body holding the sword with a vacant, lost expression. I was now standing two feet to the left in an identical, naked freshly-duplicated body.

The transfer had worked. My soul had jumped ships, leaving my original Endull body hollow, empty and confused.

Without hesitation, I shoved my soulless former vessel directly toward Cinder. The shell staggered forward, and the Phoenix tore through it with a casual swipe of her talons, disintegrating the empty duplicate in a spray of blood. As she inhaled deep digging in, the body turned to ash and falling, empty armor.

"Cinder stop!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as she lunged for me.

The Phoenix-girl froze mid-motion, her head cocking to one side like a predatory bird. Recognition flickered in those burning gold-violet eyes—just for an instant, a momentary hesitation that told me something of my Cinder was still in there.

That hesitation saved my life. In the split second she paused, a barrage of ice, water, and wind magic slammed into her from the higher levels. Mages had coordinated their assault, and the combined elemental fury engulfed her in a roaring tempest. Her magnificent flaming wings winked out like candles in a gale, and she careened backward, slamming into the parapet with a sickening crunch.

“Align soul to Duplication!” I declared, grabbing the Grimoire book and most of the dropped armor from the pile of ashes, realigning my new body to duplication magic once again.

Then, racing forward with a bundle of armor and book, I threw myself at Cinder, wrapping my arm around her thrashing form. Her body was covered in a layer of frost, momentarily blinded by ice and water.

"Duplicate!" I gasped out, focusing my will on duplication before she fully came to, holding onto a segment of feathers not engulfed in cracking ice.

As Cinder snapped at my face, barely missing my nose with razor-sharp teeth, a copy of her suddenly materialized beside us held by me. The Phoenix duplicate stood motionless for a moment, awaiting orders, while the original continued trying to eviscerate me.

"Knock her out!" I commanded the duplicate.

The Cinder-copy snatched a fallen steel baton from a dead Endull and swung it into the original Phoenix. The metal connected with the Phoenix's temple with a dull thud. Her struggles ceased instantly, her body going limp in my arms.

"Grab us both and fly us outta here!" I ordered the duplicate Phoenix.

Without question, the copy scooped up both the unconscious original and me in her powerful arms. Her wings ignited, spreading wide in a brilliant display of red-orange flames. She leapt forward, running along the wall with preternatural speed, vaulting over the massive hole left by the spider.

Behind us, the duplicate mages stared in open-mouthed shock, their spells faltering as they watched the impossible—a Level Zero nobody somehow copying and now kidnapping a high level monster.

"Stop! I order you to come back, Zero!" Sev's voice cut through the chaos, his command infused with the magic that should have bound me to his will.

But I was no longer his duplicate—I was my own. His words held no power over me. 

Sucker. 

The Phoenix copy's wings beat powerfully as we flashed through the roiling clouds of the Celestorm. Lightning crackled around us, violet tendrils licking at our heels as we ascended. The rushing river glinted far below, and Duskfall Citadel—that massive, imposing monument to endless duplication—vanished behind us, engulfed by the horde of monsters assaulting its walls.

I held tight to the unconscious Phoenix as we flew, her feathers still warm against my skin despite the extinguished flames. The wind howled past, carrying us far from the slaughter, deep into the heart of the Celestorm and then finally above it.

We emerged into shocking daylight, the sun blinding after the darkness of the storm. Below us stretched an undulating carpet of broiling black clouds, flashing with violet lightning, covering the landscape like a living entity.

"Land on that plateau," I instructed the Phoenix copy, pointing to a flat-topped mountain peak protruding above the storm like an island in a dark sea.

The duplicate adjusted course, spiraling down toward the rocky outcropping. As we descended, I gazed at the unconscious Phoenix in my arms—at Cinder, contemplating what I would have to do to knock some sense into her.

Her eyelids fluttered, and I tensed, preparing for another assault. But for now, at least, she remained unconscious, her breathing steady against my chest as we landed on the mountain plateau, the Celestorm churning below like a living nightmare.

I grabbed Cinder once again with my left hand. “Duplicate.” I ordered, watching my mana dropping to almost zero.

Another copied Phoenix manifested in front of me, my right hand holding onto her.

At this rate I would soon assemble a gang of Phoenixes to terrorise the local populace. I concluded mentally.

“Ughhh… shit… that effing hurt…” Cinder groaned. 

“Knock her head again if she attacks,” I ordered the duplicates, standing up and redressing myself. I had lost about half of the armor in my escape, only managing to grab the chest plate, boots and gloves. It would have to do. 

The duplicate Phoenix raised the metal baton. The second duplicate raised a dark fist. 

Cinder opened a single eye.

“You… blasted zero,” she ground out, rubbing her dark-feathered head. Sparks began rushing across her wings as she stirred.

“Sup Cinderella?” I asked, somewhat annoyed by my lack of pants. “You know, technically I’m not a zero. I’m like half a zero. Point five? I’m half the man I used to be…” I hummed.

“I’m going to…” She hissed.

“Feast on my insides?” I arched an eyebrow. “Half a copied man probably tastes bad.”

Cinder lunged and a baton struck her in the head. It landed poorly and didn't knock her out this time, making her careen and fall.

“Owwwww… fuuuuuughhh…” she cried out, rubbing her head.

She glared at me.

“Cinder,” I said sharply. “It’s me–Martin. Please try to remember me. I’d rather not spend all day bonking you… Hrm, that came out wrong.”

"I know exactly who you are, copy-paster!" She spat, her talons flexing menacingly. "Scrawny little Endull thinks he can capture a Phoenix? I'll roast you until—"

She froze mid-threat, finally noticing the two identical versions of herself looming above her, both staring at her with vacant expressions. Her jaw dropped comically.

"What... the... actual..." She looked from one duplicate to the other, then back to me. "Did you  copy me twice?!"

"Technically yes," I said. "Sorry about the bonks, by the way–but the bonks will resume until morale slash cooperation improves.”

Cinder touched the bruise forming on her temple, wincing. "You copied me... and then used me... to beat myself up?"

"When you put it that way, it does sound a bit twisted," I admitted.

Her murderous glare softened into bewilderment. "No Endull duplicate has ever copied me before… how?"

"I'm special that way," I said with a shrug. "Always exceeding expectations. Chose Duplication as my major at Duplicate University.”

“What?” She blinked at me.

“You know,” I waved my arm. “Duskfall Citadel. They teach duplication there. Very fast program.”

As Cinder stared at me in bewilderment, I took a moment to properly look at my two Phoenix duplicates—and at Cinder herself. All three were identical, with magnificent dark feathers that shimmered with embers even when not fully aflame. Their bodies were athletic and powerful, elegant in their deadly grace. Their faces were a fusion between fox and bird. The duplicates stood motionless, awaiting commands, while the original Cinder vibrated with barely contained rage.

"I will disembowel you," Cinder finally growled.

"With those talons? Yeah, that's an option," I said, admiring the deadly dari claws extending from her fingertips. "Though I should point out that my lovely bodyguards might take issue with that plan. Have you considered keeping me around?”

“Why?”

“I'm good company. Probably the only company that wants to hang out with your fiery self instead of murdering you.”

Cinder glanced at her duplicates again and made a noise between a choke and a laugh. "This is ridiculous. Why am I arguing with my dinner?"

"Dinner? Is that any way to talk to your best friend in the universe?"

She tilted her head, those brilliant eyes narrowing. “Fiend? I don't have friends, Endull. I have food and I have enemies."

"That sounds lonely," I said softly. “Poor Cinder. Forever alone.”

Her head snapped up. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

“Because it is your name,” I said. “Consider consulting your Stats or whatever. Phoenixes have stats… right?”

Cinder's gaze darted between me and the two silent duplicates of herself. She seemed to be weighing her options—kill me now or listen to more of my crazy talk.

“I cannot observe my stats for I am Celestorm-born,” she said.

“Maybe you need a grimoire?” I contemplated. I grabbed my book and said “Duplicate”.

“Here you go,” I offered the copied grimoire to her. “Say… ‘Align soul to Fire!’ After you do, I reckon the Grimoire will let you see your soul stats and properly connect you.”

Cinder's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You think I'm stupid enough to take commands from a crazy duplicate human?" Her wings flared slightly, embers crackling along the edges. "I'm not touching your pathetic little book."

"That's fair," I nodded reasonably. "Though consider this: I can keep duplicating you indefinitely." I gestured to the two vacant-eyed copies of her. "And each one will follow my every command. Command like ‘bonk on the head extra hard’."

Cinder's talons dug into the stone beneath us. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" I smiled pleasantly. "Care to test that theory? Go ahead, make a move. See what happens."

She tensed, preparing to spring, when one of the Phoenix duplicates stepped forward, metal baton raised threateningly. Cinder froze.

"Fine," she snarled, snatching the grimoire from my hand. She glared at me, those fiery eyes promising retribution. "If this is some trick..."

"No trick," I assured her. "Just say the words and the book will respond to you."

Cinder held the grimoire suspiciously, as if it might bite her. "Align soul to Fire," she muttered reluctantly.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then she gasped, staggering back as information flooded her vision.

"Abyss," she whispered, as her eyes stared at nothing, or more specifically at her soul stats. “I’m… Cassiopeia Cinder Nova?”

“Yepperoni,” I nodded. “See? Now you’re getting it.”

Cinder opened and closed her mouth, seemingly lost in her thoughts.

“So, what’s it like being a Phoenix?” I asked. “Did you go to Phoenix university where they teach you to murder duplicates effectively?”

“I already told you,” she answered. “The Celestorm birthed me.”

“When?” I asked. “Now? Or like ages ago? How long have you been assaulting Duskfall?”

"I have hunted Duskfall's walls for... many winters," she said slowly, her voice losing some of its predatory edge. "The Celestorm gives birth to my kind when humans play with fire magic. We emerge from the lightning and chaos, hungry and burning."

“And how’s that working out for you?”

“What?”

"What do Phoenixes normally eat?” I added. “Where do you live?”

“Duplicates. Other beasts that get in my way,” she replied immediately. "I have a nest in the cliffs nearby.”

“Why duplicates?” I asked. 

“I feast on mana when I slice them up,” she replied. “They’re plentiful and easy to consume especially when they’re distracted by slaying other Celestorm-born beasts.”

“What’s the point of assaulting Duskfall? Have you considered getting a job?”

“What?” Cinder stared at me, completely derailed to my line of questions.

Chapter 12: Dinner and a show

"A job?" Cinder echoed. 

I nodded.

"I don't think you understand what I am," Cinder said, settling into a cross-legged position on the rocky plateau. Her talons clicked against the stone as she gestured to herself. "I'm a Celestorm-born. We don't have 'jobs.' We hunt. We feed. We survive."

“Curious how you have the conception of a job in your brain,” I pointed out. “You’re pretty chatty for a mindless beast.”

“I’m not mindless, idiot Endull zero,” she huffed. "I absorb more than just mana when I feed on duplicates. I take in fragments of memories, knowledge, language..." She shook her head. "Why am I explaining myself to food?"

“How do you know that I’m a zero?”

“You were wearing a gray cloak and you smell like you’re going to expire in about a day.”

I pictured myself as a steak with an expiration date hanging out in Phoenix Cinder’s fridge.

The Celestorm continued to rage below us, a vast, churning sea of darkness and violet lightning that stretched to the horizon. Occasional breaks in the clouds revealed glimpses of the broken landscape below—craters, twisted rock formations, and the distant silhouette of Duskfall Citadel rising like a jagged spine against the murky backdrop.

"Do you remember anything beyond hunting duplicates?" I asked.

“Hrm.” Cinder's wings rustled, feathers dark against the stone. "I remember... fragments. A girl with electric wings. A... fox?" She touched her temple, wincing. "But they aren't real memories. Just echoes from recently consumed duplicates."

"The Stats say your name is Cassiopeia Cinder Nova," I pointed out. "Does that mean anything to you?"

“No.”

"You sang when you attacked the wall. It wasn't just to terrify your prey, was it? You enjoyed it."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face. "How would you know?"

"Call it a hunch," I smiled. "I bet you sing when you're alone too. When no one's listening."

She didn't deny it, pursing her lips.

Progress!

"The stats," she said, changing the subject abruptly, "they say I have a 'soul-bond' to someone named... Martin Kilborne."

"That would be me," I gestured to myself. "Though I look a bit different at the moment. Less handsome, more skeletal."

"You lie," she hissed. "I would remember being... bonded to a duplicate."

"You're right," I nodded. "You would remember. Unless something happened to your memory."

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What are you suggesting?"

"That maybe you're not who—or what—you think you are," I said carefully. "That maybe you weren't simply born from a Celestorm."

The flames along her wings intensified, crackling with her agitation. "Then what am I?"

"An Omnid girl named Cinder," I said. "Who likes punk music. Who plays guitar and writes songs about her feelings and other fun things."

Cinder sprang to her feet, wings flaring wide. "You're lying!"

"I'm not. I know you, Cinder. The real you."

"Silence!" she snarled, talons flexing. One of my Phoenix copies immediately stepped forward, baton raised. Cinder froze, then slowly sank back down. "If what you say is true, prove it."

I hesitated. How could I prove our connection when all I had were fragmented memories myself?

"You have a little sister named Lenoralynne," I said slowly, the memory materializing as I spoke. "You call her Leny. She's a Black Shuck Omnid with yellow eyes."

Cinder's breath caught. "I... I don't know what you're talking about."

But her voice wavered, uncertainty bleeding through.

"You wear a three-eyed skull choker," I continued, more memories filtering back. "You claimed me as your kobold in a train compartment and before that in your room."

"Stop it," Cinder whispered, her hands moving to her throat as if searching for the choker I'd described.

"You sang to me," I pressed on, the memory crystallizing. "When I was lost in shifted reality, your voice found me. You always find me, Cinder. And I always find you. That’s how we roll. No matter what, we find each other. Because we’re best friends dimensionally bound through Alexa’s machinations… no matter where we are, no matter who we are."

She stared at me, eyes wide and flickering with something beyond hostility. "I don't... I don't..." She clutched her head. "These aren't my memories!"

The Celestorm below us gave a tremendous pulse, violet lightning crackling upward to strike the plateau edge. The mountain shuddered beneath us.

"The storm's intensifying," I observed, watching as the dark clouds began to spiral more violently. "We should probably find shelter."

Cinder stood abruptly, stretching her wings. "I know a place. My place. A cave in the cliffs." She gave me a look of suspicion sprinkled with reluctant curiosity. "You can continue your delusions there, duplicate.”

"Aight," I agreed. "I'll bring your twins."

"They don't have to come," she said quickly, eyeing her duplicates with obvious discomfort.

"I think they do," I smiled pleasantly. "Let's call them... insurance against your dietary impulses."

Cinder bared her teeth in a humorless smile. "You don't trust me?"

"Would you trust you?" I returned.

"Fair point," she conceded, her wings igniting with renewed flame. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” I said. “I’ll follow. Hrm. I should give your copies names for more effective management. You’ll be Cinderoll and you’ll be Cinderiss.” I jabbed each of the duplicate Phoenixes in the chest. “Got it?” Cinderoll and Cinderiss nodded, their eyes glassy.

“Cinderoll–fly me,” I ordered.

. . .

Cinder's cave was nestled in a sheer cliff face overlooking a vast, barren plain far beyond the storm's edge. The entrance was little more than a jagged crack in the rock, barely visible until we were right upon it. The duplicate Phoenix landed on the narrow ledge, releasing me from her arms before folding her wings.

"Home sweet home," Cinder announced with a grand gesture that seemed more sarcastic than proud.

I peered into the darkness beyond the entrance. "Cozy."

"It keeps the rain out," she shrugged, stepping inside. "Most of the time."

I instructed my copied minions to follow me.

"You really think I'm going to eat you?" she asked as we moved deeper into the cave.

"I think you're conflicted," I replied. "Part of you wants to eat me because that's what you believe you are—a predator. But another part of you recognizes something familiar in me, and it's making you curious."

She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she raised her hand, palm up, and a small flame ignited above it, illuminating the cave interior.

The space was larger than I'd expected—a roughly circular chamber about thirty feet across with a high, domed ceiling. The walls glittered with embedded crystals that caught and reflected Cinder's flame, casting rainbow patterns across the stone floor. In one corner lay a nest of sorts, a depression in the ground lined with what appeared to be singed blankets and cloaks—presumably taken from her victims.

But what caught my attention were the walls.

Every available surface was covered with crude drawings—charcoal sketches, charred etchings, and patterns seemingly burned directly into the stone. They depicted human figures, buildings, strange machines, and abstract symbols that looked vaguely like runes or mathematical equations.

"Did you draw all these?" I asked, moving closer to examine a particularly detailed sketch of what appeared to be a building.

Cinder shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know why I make them," she admitted, her voice softer than I'd heard it yet. "The images just... come to me sometimes. After I feed. After I sleep."

I traced my finger over a drawing of three figures with linked hands—one with wings like Cinder's, one with feathers that seemed to crackle with electricity, and a smaller fox figure between them.

"Hey, that's us," I said quietly, my heartbeat accelerating. "You, me, and Vespera."

"Stop saying that!" Cinder snapped, her flame flaring. "These are just... dreams. Echoes from consumed souls. They don't mean anything! I just drew this one after today’s nap!”

"Then why keep it?" I challenged. "Why fill your home with drawings of things you claim aren't real?"

She turned away, moving to her nest and sitting heavily. "I don't know," she muttered. "Maybe I'm just bored between hunts."

“What did you dream about last?” I asked her.

Her eyes flashed. "Why does it matter?"

"Humor me."

She sighed, flames dimming around her. "I dreamt about... a different place. A white tower with strange creatures. A family. A strange life that makes no sense."

"Those aren't just dreams," I said, moving to sit across from her. "They're memories."

"Stolen memories," she insisted, but with less conviction.

"Your own memories," I countered. "From before you woke up here as a Phoenix."

The flame above her palm flickered, casting dancing shadows across her elongated face. In that moment, she looked more vulnerable—less a predator bird-fox and more a confused girl.

"There was no 'before,'" she said softly. "There's only the hunt… which you interrupted by the way. I’m… hungry. I want to feast on you before you expire.”

“I object to being consumed on the account that I’m precious and finite,” I said. “How about we hunt some monsters? There’s gotta be loads of them roaming the land after the Celestorm, right?”

"Ughh, that's so much more effort than eating the citadel duplicates–they barely put up a fight on the lower levels," Cinder grumbled, flames flickering dimly along her wings.

"Come on," I urged, "think of it as an adventure. Besides, Cinderoll and Cinderiss need the exercise." I gestured to my vacant-eyed Phoenix duplicates who stood motionless near the cave entrance. "Plus, I'm starving too. Haven't eaten since... well, since I was created this morning."

Cinder's stomach growled loudly, betraying her own hunger. She scowled at the sound.

"Fine," she relented, rising from her nest in a fluid motion. "There's a herd of Spine Elk that usually grazes in the valley beyond the western ridge after a storm. Their meat is... acceptable."

"Spine Elk?" I asked, following her toward the cave entrance.

"You'll see," she replied ominously.

. . . 

Cinder's wings ignited, flames spreading from the base to the tips in a mesmerizing wave. "Can your copies carry you again?"

I nodded. "Cinderoll, you heard the lady."

The Phoenix duplicate scooped me up without hesitation, its vacant eyes staring straight ahead. I still found it disconcerting how empty they were—perfect copies of Cinder's Phoenix form but without any spark of consciousness.

We launched into the sky, following Cinder's blazing form as she soared across the barren landscape. From this height, I could see how the Celestorm had reshaped the terrain—new craters dotted the ground, some still smoking, while strange crystalline formations jutted from the earth like alien vegetation.

"There," Cinder called over the wind, pointing toward a distant valley where patches of brownish-green vegetation formed a lush forest.

As we descended, I spotted the "elk"—and immediately understood the name. They were enormous creatures, each standing at least seven feet tall at the shoulder, with bodies reminiscent of terrestrial elk but with several key differences. Most notably, a ridge of bony spines ran from their necks down to their tails, each spine tipped with what appeared to be a crystalline growth that glowed with a faint blue light. Their antlers were similarly crystalline, branching in complex patterns.

"Shiny crystal elk,” I commented.

"Food," Cinder corrected with a predatory grin. Her eyes tracked the herd's movements, calculating, assessing. "The younger ones are tastier, but the bulls put up more of a fight."

"And I'm guessing you prefer the fight?"

Her grin widened, revealing those unnervingly sharp teeth. "Naturally."

Without further discussion, she unfolded her wings to their full, impressive span and launched herself into the air. 

"Cinderoll, stay with me," I commanded. "Cinderiss, assist Cinder."

Cinderiss immediately took flight, following Cinder's path as she circled high above the unsuspecting herd. Cinderoll remained at my side, expressionless but attentive.

From our vantage point, I watched as Cinder executed a hunting strategy that was both brutal and effective. She and her duplicate dove from opposite directions, forcing the herd into panicked confusion. The elk scattered, their crystalline antlers flashing in the sunlight as they bolted in all directions.

Cinder zeroed in on a massive bull, its antlers a complex crown of purple crystal. As it charged, attempting to gore her with those deadly points, she executed a mid-air pivot that seemed to defy physics, twisting around the charging beast and raking her talons across its flank.

The bull bellowed, a sound that echoed across the valley like the grinding of metal on stone. It whirled, faster than something its size should be able to move, but Cinder was already gone, circling for another pass.

Meanwhile, Cinderiss had separated a younger elk from the herd, driving it toward an outcropping where it had nowhere to flee. The duplicate showed none of Cinder's flair or apparent enjoyment—it attacked with mechanical moves, talons slashing at the creature's throat.

The hunt continued for several minutes, a deadly aerial ballet that was mesmerizing to watch. Finally, with a triumphant cry that sent shivers down my spine, Cinder struck the killing blow to her chosen prey, her talons finding the vulnerable spot between the elk's shoulder and neck, severing vital arteries. The massive creature stumbled, then collapsed in a heap of crystalline spines and twitching limbs.

Not to be outdone, Cinderiss finished off its own target moments later, standing above the fallen beast with wings spread wide, an empty mirror of Cinder's victory pose.

"Come down!" Cinder called up to me, her voice carrying on the wind. "Dinner is served!"

Cinderoll dutifully carried me down to where Cinder stood beside her kill, blood staining her talons and a look of primal satisfaction on her face. Up close, the Spine Elk was even more imposing—its coat was thick and matted, mottled in patterns of brown and gray. The crystalline spines along its back pulsed with a fading light, growing dimmer as the creature's life ebbed away.

"These crystals," I said, gesturing to the spines. "Are they... magical?"

"Everything born of the Celestorm carries magic," Cinder replied, casually ripping off one of the creature's legs with her talons as if it were no more difficult than tearing paper. "These store energy I can procure with my flames."

She tossed the massive leg toward me. It landed at my feet with a meaty thud, easily weighing forty pounds.

"Your share," she announced. "I'll take the rest."

"Generous," I commented dryly.

"You couldn't eat more if you tried," she countered, eyeing my emaciated frame.

I couldn't argue with that logic. I considered how I would cook the meat and then I remembered that I had copycat Phoenix mooks now.

"Cinderiss," I said. "Make fire. Cook that leg… on a slow burn.”

The Phoenix copy obediently ignited a controlled flame in her palm and grabbed the leg from me. As my leg burned in Cinderiss’ arms, Cinder began feasting on her kill, tearing into the raw flesh with disturbing enthusiasm. I ordered Cinderoll to join her and she complied with a nod.

Blood dripped down their chins as they consumed meat, organs, and even some of the bone, their bodies apparently designed to process parts that would be indigestible to humans. Soon they made a deep hole in the elk's side, exposing crystalline ribs.

Cinderiss handed me the now thoroughly cooked leg, smoke still rising from the charred exterior. I took it gingerly, my borrowed duplicated body's stomach growling loudly at the scent of roasted meat and ordered the duplicate Phoenix to eat. As she departed, I tore off a chunk with my hands, savoring the rich, gamey flavor as I chewed. The meat was tough but flavorful, with an unusual mineral tang that probably came from the creature's strange crystalline growths.

While I ate, I watched Cinder and the two copies tear through the carcass with ferocious efficiency. Eventually, Cinder seemed to notice my observation. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving a crimson streak across her dark, feathery cheek, and approached me. The sunset cast an orange glow across her dark feathers, making them shimmer with embers even when not fully aflame.

"You eat like a dying bird," she commented, eyeing my barely touched leg. "Not enough to sustain that body."

"Just pacing myself," I replied, taking another bite. "Unlike you, I can't unhinge my jaw to swallow half an elk whole."

She made a sound that might have been a laugh. "We Phoenixes burn hot. Requires fuel."

"Is that why you attack the Citadel? For fuel?"

Cinder settled beside me, crossing her legs. Her posture was relaxed, but I noted how she kept a careful distance, as if not entirely trusting herself near me.

"Partially," she admitted. "The mana from duplicates is... easy to feast on. Concentrated. But it's also..." She paused, searching for words. "It's also about the hunt. The challenge. The knowledge, intelligence from the consumed copies. The song I bless them with before I kill them."

"The song," I repeated, seizing the opening. "Speaking of which, I'd like to hear you sing some more. Perhaps, something that isn't about dismembering me?”

Cinder's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Why?"

"Because I have a theory," I said, setting aside the elk leg. "About why you sing when you hunt."

"Intimidation," she said dismissively. "Distracts and confuses idiot human dupes. Makes the prey freeze."

"Nah," I countered. "It's more than that. I think there's magic in your voice. In your music. A kind of power that might help you remember more about who you really are. Go on, use your voice on yourself.”

She scoffed, but her wings rustled with what might have been discomfort. "A dying duplicate giving me orders? That's rich."

"Not an order," I clarified. "A request. Come on… Sing something—anything that comes to mind."

She stared at me for a long moment, golden-violet eyes searching mine. Then, to my surprise, she nodded slowly.

"Fine," she said. "One song. But only because I'm sated." She rose to her feet, stretching her wings wide. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and when she opened them again, they glowed with inner fire.

When she began to sing, her voice was different from the harsh, mocking tones she'd used. This was rich and full, carrying across the barren landscape with haunting clarity. The melody seemed to emerge from somewhere deep within her, a song without conscious creation, the hum of her tones cutting across my soul.

"Through fractured skies and broken dreams,
I soar above what nothing seems,
My wings of fire, my heart of stone,
Why do I feel so alone?

These memories like scattered stars,
Flash bright then fade, leaving scars,
A school, a fox, electric wings,
What truth lies in these phantom things?"

As she sang, the crystals in the fallen elk's spine began to glow brighter, silver and blue resonating with her voice. The air around us seemed to shimmer, reality itself responding to her melody. Her flames grew, not with rage but with some deeper emotion, casting long shadows across the forest around us

"I hunt, I kill, I feed, I burn,
Yet something inside makes me yearn,
For thunder wings and silver halls,
And names that echo from distant shores.

Cassiopeia, Nova, Cinder—
Which pieces true, which just hinder?
Am I predator, am I prey?
What self was lost along the way?"

Her voice cracked on the final line, and for a moment, genuine confusion and pain flickered across her face. The flames along her wings pulsed with the rhythm of her song, growing brighter with each note, until she was wreathed in fire.

The storm that birthed me, gave me flight,
But did it steal my soul outright?
This hunger burning deep inside,
Is there something more I've denied?

My voice, my talons, my fierce pride,
All masks for what I feel inside—
This emptiness that never fades,
This knowledge trapped in memories' shades.

As her song reached its crescendo, the crystals from the elk shattered from her flames, releasing plumes of blue and violet energy that swirled around Cinder like mist. She inhaled deep as the energy flowed into her, making her body glow from within.

Her voice softened as she concluded, the flames along her wings dimming to gentle embers:

"So tell me, stranger with familiar eyes,
If all you speak holds truth, not lies—
Who was I before the storm and flame?
Who was the girl behind my name?"

The final note hung in the air, resonating across the barren landscape. Cinder stood motionless, panting, her wings half-extended, staring at me with an expression caught between defiance and vulnerability.

"That was..." I began, but words failed me for a second or two. “Very pretty. You’re Cinder. My beautiful, lovely Cinder. Funny–now your name matches your body, Miss Phoenix.”

“Hurmm,” Cinder's legs seemed to give out beneath her, and she sat on the charred corpse of the elk, wings folding close to her body. "The images are stronger now," she murmured, pressing her palms to her temples. "Clearer. A school called Skyfall. A tower with silver foxes on the walls. A girl with electric wings named... Vespera?"

"Yes," I said, hope rising in my chest. "That's right. Vespera Simmi. Our Thunderbird."

"And you," she continued, her gaze focusing sharply on me. "Martin Kilborne. My... kobold? The boy I… like?" She frowned at the word, as if tasting something unfamiliar.

"That's me," I confirmed with a smile.

Cinder closed her eyes, concentrating. "There's so much... fragments, pieces that don't fit together. I remember fighting alongside you, but also wanting to devour you. I remember my voice, singing about pancakes? That can't be right."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, that's definitely right. Vespera has a thing for pancakes."

Her eyes snapped open. "How is this possible? How can I be both this..." she gestured to her feathered, predatory form, "and what you claim?"

"It's complicated," I admitted. "Involves a magic triangle and quantum leaping across dimensions into vessels without souls. Your soul is from another world, Cinder. Just like mine."

She stood abruptly, wings flaring. "I need to process this. All of this…”

"Process away," I nodded. "Just don’t take forever, on the account that my body will expire and the fact that we still need to locate Vee."

"Vee," she repeated the name, rolling it around her mouth like an unfamiliar taste. "Where would we even begin to look for her?"

"I have no idea," I confessed. "Maybe we can fly around, see where the wind takes us? Maybe you can sing about finding her? Maybe you can sniff her out? I dunno. Ah! Perhaps I can use Scrutiosmia when my mana reloads?”

“If Vespera was pulled into this world like we were..."

"She'd be changed too," I finished her thought. "Maybe into something that resonates with her nature. Or not. You got Phoenixed.”

“Hrm,” Phoenix-Cinder brushed her dark mane. “Yeah.”