The Most Precious Gift Of All

“Mercury, look at them! Our children… they’re so adorable!”

The five blind blobs searched aimlessly for their parents, chirping as they bumped into the sixth egg or each other.

“They’re awfully wet and… uh… smelly, Lily. And covered in ash, too!”

Having come from the liquid worlds of their eggs, most of the liquid still coated their already-feathered bodies, causing the ash to cling to them in gooey clumps.

“You’re right, Mercury. You clean them off as best you can, and I’ll help our sixth child out of his egg.”

Mercury ambled over happily and began scrubbing the chicks tenderly with his wings while his mate hopped over to the slowly rocking capsule.

She nudged it softly and cooed, “Come on out, my little one! You can do it! Your family is eager to meet you.”

She pressed her head to the shell and heard a swishing sound from within, and then jerked it away as it gave two pronounced shudders.

However, it ceased to move as the tense seconds flowed by.

She gave it another light shove and said anxiously, “Don’t be afraid. Your mother’s here. Come on, come on.”

It did not respond, neither visually or audibly.

What’s going on? Why isn’t my son or daughter hatching? Did I not incubate it right? Did I harm my baby in some way? Surely not!

Mercury wiped the last chick clean and shook his wings over the edge to dislodge the sludge. He then turned around and strode over to her, grumbling all the while.

He stared at the stone-still egg and asked, “What’s the matter, Lily? Why has our chick not hatched?”

He tapped it with a feather-tip, perturbed by its utter silence.

“I… I don’t know! It just… stopped shaking. Do you think it’s… it’s…”

She was unable to finish the terrible thought, the thought that her child was dead. She threw him a pained gaze, and he turned away.

He poked it benignly and saw that she was right.

“Lily… there is something wrong. It should have broken open by now. All the others did...”

“No no no, our baby’s fine. It has to be! We did nothing to endanger it!”

She slid it close to her stomach and stroked it, pleading, “Please hatch, my child. You’re alright! I know you are! Please… you have to…”

She endlessly swabbed the shell, coming to the realization that her desperate words and massages weren’t helping at all. She locked her eyes on the cold orb in front of her belly, and liquid fire began to amass in her eyes.

How could this happen… to us? We did all we knew to do… and it wasn’t enough. Nature… you betrayed us. You are so cruel…

Drops of flame left her eyes in broken streams, striking the ash underfoot and going out in seconds.

Mercury pulled his downcast gaze away from it and looked at her.

“Lily… there’s nothing we can do. Our child… is gone. I’m so sorry…”

She lifted her head and met his agonized expression, the dark shadow of helplessness darkening his eyes. He limped closer and pressed against her in a tight hug.

His attempt to console her failed miserably, and the rate of tear-flow doubled.

“Why did this… have to happen? We never deserved… to have our baby… taken from us! He or she never had the chance… to even see us. Oh Mercury… why? Why?”

He sniffled and replied in a thick voice, “I don’t have the answers, dear. And even if… even if I did… it wouldn’t matter. Our chick… won’t be brought… back to life…”

He leaned into her and plastered his head on her shoulder, his outpouring of tears warming her skin.

As she came to the grave conclusion that there was no rescuing her unborn creation, something in the deepest recesses of her soul shattered like a mirror.

It was the instinctual reaction to the loss of her offspring, to the loss of a part of her, more specifically. That crushing sensation was the bullet that splintered her spirits.

She let out a wracking sob and shoved her mate away, sending him harshly onto the soft blanket of ash. She didn’t see that he had nearly smothered one of their rose-tinted chicks as a result.

“Lily… what was that for?! I almost-”

She cut off his shocked query with a deafening wail and erupted into flame. She spread her scorching wings and launched into the air, speeding away at an alarming rate.

She was leaving behind all she knew and all she cared for, but she could not bear to be in proximity of her dead spawn.

He struggled to his feet and watched her recede, never looking back. The forest echoed sickeningly with her cries and moans, the horrid vocalizations of a defeated mother.

He squawked, “Lily! P-please wait! I-I need you! Don’t g-go!”

As she flung herself into the maze of woody columns, he realized he had failed to bring her back. He hung like a doll over the rim of his nest, sapped of all his willpower and energy.

He would have pulled himself together and chased after her, but she wasn’t his top obligation anymore. Six kindred creatures crafted from his own flesh and blood depended upon him, and he would not forsake them.

How unfair it is to lose both my mate and my child so quickly. One of the most splendid days of our lives has been twisted into a nightmare…

He tossed one last look in his invisible mate’s direction and prayed, Liliana… wherever you are, please be safe. Know that I will fight the grief and protect our five remaining miracles, as a loyal father does. I shall be waiting here with open wings for when you choose to return. May Celestia guide you, my love…

He sluggishly dragged his gaze away and rotated around, spying his offspring all huddled together in the center of the ash pile. He dried up his hot tears with a herculean effort and muted his sniffles.

Ruefully, he flung the numerous shell fragments out of the nest, being careful not to disturb the snoozing, colorful bundles.

He then found a comfortable spot and extended his wings to veil the chicks, but a twinge of duty clutched him. He refolded his wings and trudged over to the wasted egg – which had been knocked on its side by Lily’s coarse departure.

Mercury felt an immutable spasm of pain in his heart as he reached for the orb, one that forced a sob from his beak. His eyes slanted mournfully, he shook his head staunchly to dam up another round of imminent tears.

He pinned it between his wings and righted it, the narrow end pointing straight up. He swept his primaries over the ice-smooth surface – the final time he would most likely ever contact it – and then started scooping out a depression in the ash with his right foot. He cast the excavated dust to the side as he dug, his heart throbbing with woe.

He needed some way to dispose of the useless vessel, and this was the only way he knew how. He could not bring himself to carry it to some reclusive spot and drop it. Such an act was so atrocious it had not once crossed his weary mind.

He was not entirely in the real world as he worked, his conscious thought fleeing to some other plane to try and nullify the waves of sadness assaulting his being.

He removed enough of the black powder to reveal the leafy bottom layer of the nest, which lay just above the twigs that formed the entire structure. Deeming the pit deep enough and wide enough, he nudged the egg into it. It slid down the side and came to a discreet stop, fitting snugly into its resting place.

Demurely, Mercury replaced the ash, packing it down as he did so. When only a small mound remained to be replaced, he released a drawn-out sigh and closed his eyes.

I do not know whether you were a boy or a girl, and that is perhaps one of the many regrets I am suffering from right now, as is your mother. Whichever you were destined to be, it does not matter. In truth, even though you are no longer living, I still love you with all my aching heart. I pray that you are happy and free in Equestria’s heaven, and not upset that you missed out on seeing your family as closely as you wanted to. I promise I’ll never forget you, my unnamed hatchling, and may you never forget us…

Stirred by his own solemn ode to the sky, he whimpered as he creaked open his eyes and looked down. With a few hesitant shuffles of his foot, the crown of the orb was sequestered underneath the dark snow.

“Goodbye… my precious one…” he said in a broken whisper, and turned towards his other young.

He crouched down and laid his great wings over their scrunched-together forms. He then curled his neck and slapped his skull on his right wing. After using his coat as a towel to mop up the stubborn flames in his eyes, he shut them with a staggered exhale.

He skittered off to dreamland within a minute.

In his melancholy slumbers, he was somehow temporarily united with his lost child, who turned out to be a son. The little phoenix – which he defined as a cross between him and Lily – bounded up to him and gripped his belly feathers in a cherished hug.

Mercury lifted him up and held his primarily orange body in front of him, the young male squealing with glee. Mercury pored over dozens of fitting names before choosing one in particular. The elder male decided to name his phantom son Cinnamon, the reason being he had light brown versions of his father’s eyes.

And so it was, in the self-contained dreams of Mercury’s brain, father and son played and romped as free as swifts in the summer.

So ecstatic was the father while he interacted with his son that he unconsciously muttered “Cinnamon, I love you,” countless times while he slumbered.

He sorely did not want the fantasy to end and steal his son away a second time, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep forever. Time was irrelevant where he stayed, while hour upon hour of daylight died simultaneously.

Eventually, a third outside voice disintegrated the dream, and Mercury was barely able to say goodbye before being spirited away.

“Hello Mercury. How are you? I wanted to check up on you and, you know, see if your kids have arrived.”

At once, the male roused and greeted his visitor in an irked tone: “Ty-Tycho? Why did you have to disturb me… while I was… sleeping?”

He watched with foggy eyes as Tycho held his wings up defensively and replied, “I didn’t know you were asleep until I got here. And since we haven’t talked in some time, I figured we could talk now.”

“I see. Well, there’s no reason for me to be rude and turn you away. Promise you’ll be quiet.”

“I promise,” he said with a double nod.

“Okay then. Here they are.”

He pushed himself up with his wings and stepped back a few paces, exposing the napping chicks. Tycho’s eyes bloomed as wide as an owl’s as he bent down and examined Mercury’s offspring.

“Dear Celestia, Mercury!” he said with subdued intensity. “They’re so handsome! That one and that one remind me of you, and oh, that one reminds me of Lily! When did they hatch?”

“Um… this morning.”

Tycho waltzed over to his equal and shook his wing in a congratulatory frenzy.

“You and Lily must be so proud! Let it be said that I’m proud of you too. You’ve come so far, my friend.”

Cracking a faint smile, Mercury replied, “Thanks. I never imagined I would come this far myself. Lily deserves some credit too, though.”

Tycho dropped his wing and donned an inquisitive expression.

“Where is she, by the way? Is she out getting food for them?”

“No. I don’t… I don’t know where she is,” he said sullenly.

Tycho was taken aback by the statement and blinked in puzzlement.

“What do you mean? Did you two have an argument?”

Too morose to meet Tycho’s demanding face, Mercury hung his head and looked at his feet.

“Tycho… I have a confession to make.”

He judged that there was something inherently wrong with his friend by the way he skirted his questions.

“A confession? You’re starting to worry me, Mercury. Please, tell me-”

“My son is… is…”

He could hardly shove the words past his beak.

“My son is… dead. He… never hatched."

At this, Mercury hid his face behind his wings as jittery sobs wracked his body. Now Tycho was dumbfounded, and he could not believe he had heard his neighbor correctly.

“What in Celestia’s name are you talking about? You can’t be serious!” he ejaculated a bit too loudly, forgetting about the chicks snoozing behind him.

“Do you think… I would lie? Why do you think… I’m crying? He’s gone, Tycho. Gone forever. I saw him in my dream... the one you ended. He was... he was...”

The emotional male’s reply rid the doubt from Tycho’s mind, and the rush of anguish he felt for his neighbor floored him. Wanly, Tycho placed his wing upon Mercury’s back and patted it delicately.

“Mercury… I… I don’t know what to say. I thought that… oh my… I’m so sorry.”

“Th-thanks, Tycho. I know you’re n-not dealing with w-what I’m dealing with, but to h-have your support helps s-so much.”

“I offer my most heartfelt condolences to you, friend. Be sure to pass them onto your mate… when she returns.”

“I certainly w-will. But that may be a l-long time from now. She was so s-stricken, I fear she won’t return f-for days.”

“I would go search for her, but I don’t think I would have much success. It is up to her when she opts to come home.”

“I know. I miss h-her dearly. It’s like two c-chunks of my soul have b-broken off and faded away...”

"If I may ask, where is the egg?"

"In the ash, hidden f-from the world. And that's how I-I want it to stay..."

Tycho administered a brotherly hug to the overburdened male, the silence raining down upon them in earnest as Mercury choked off his whimpers.

After nearly five minutes of the wordless exchange of solace, a high-pitched, staccato din rose from the ash.

Gradually, Mercury lowered his wings and raised his head as Tycho turned around. His vision hazy, the former could half-recognize the striking shapes worming their way randomly around their bed.

“I take it you haven’t fed them yet. They sound exactly like mine when they’re hungry.”

“With all that Lily and I have been through, we never had the opportunity. If you don’t mind watching them, I’ll go and gather some berries. What kind should they eat?”

Tycho denounced him with a stern glare.

“No no no, your place is here, with them. I will be the one to bring them back their first meal. Strawberries should do nicely. My children ate them without any ill effects.”

“Thank you so much. I owe you greatly, Tycho.”

“Nonsense. I expect nothing from you, friend. You deserve nothing less than generous hospitality.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I won’t be long, friend. I’ll be sure to bring the best strawberries I can find for them.”

He fanned out his wings and made to take off, but Mercury halted him with one final request.

“Could you keep an eye out for my mate and see how she’s doing, if at all possible?”

“Of course. What should I do if I come across her?”

“Just... observe her from a distance. She’s the only one who can heal herself at this point. And don’t stall too long, alright?”

“As you wish, friend. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Tycho sailed off on russet wings after taking a steadying breath.

Mercury traipsed over to the mewling creatures and, for the first time, noted their genders.

I have one… two… three daughters and one… two sons. Tycho was right, some of them are strongly similar to their parents. Only in the distant future will they learn about their sixth sibling…

None of them were able to see where they were going – which amused their father to a certain degree – but one male and one female managed to run into his feet.

They nibbled at his legs and belly as if they were items to be consumed, and Mercury dislodged them idly. They protested by squeaking even louder, and their four siblings added to the cacophony in turn.

“Now now little ones, please be quiet. My neighbor is collecting strawberries for you as we speak.”

They obeyed, and the stragglers gravitated to the source of the sound by their hearing alone. In under a minute, the five phoenix babies were milling both around him.

One accidentally crawled under his tail and, feeling trapped, lurched forwards between his legs. The baby’s head grazed that one particular area of Mercury's body, and he hopped away in shock.

“Oh my!”

Abashed, he spun around and singled out the perpetrator, a male.

“You watch yourself, son! It is not nice at all to touch me there,” he chided.

Mercury’s former distress seemed to have been displaced by the chicks’ benign exploration, and he realized that as long as they kept him company, he would be able to move on.

True, Lily was the last missing piece of the puzzle, but her being a mother guaranteed that she would eventually reunite with her family.

All in due time, Mercury assured himself.

His startling change of mood was testament to the latent power of the feathery balls he had brought into the world, and he was at his most jovial since the event at sunrise. He proceeded to lay flat on his chest and fan his flying appendages out on either side of him.

Once an un-scalable tower to the chicks, he was now a fluffy, accessible field of warmth. Their cheeping diminished as they clambered onto his wings, and then onto his back.

“Ahhh… you do give a nice massage, my dears,” he mumbled complacently. “Please continue…”

The constant tickling radiating from every inch of his skin prevented him from falling asleep, and so he lay there with his shades half-drawn, breathing in a spellbound manner.

Time passed fluidly for the reclined phoenix, and his volunteer set talon on the ash before long. He opened his beak and let five juicy fruits plop onto the ash.

“So that’s how you get them to be quiet! Me and my mate have tried so hard to get ours to settle down, but few methods have worked. I think you’ve taught me a valuable lesson.”

“Is that so? You’re welcome, I guess. Do you mind pulling them off?”

“Not at all.”

Tycho placed the strawberries in his left foot on top of the others, and then deftly removed the babies. Mercury stood at last and stretched, relieving the cramp in his neck.

“I’m afraid I didn’t see any signs of Lily.”

“I realized you hadn’t. All the same, I’m the one who should be worrying.”

“Whatever you say, friend.”

As the sugary odor of the conical fruits permeated the air, the chicks picked it up. They all froze and sniffed greedily, and then descended upon the succulent berries. Each chick selected one from the ten-strong hill and began dining at once.

Their beaks took impish bites from the berries, and they peeped delightedly as they ate.

“I’m feeling a strong sense of déjà vu, Mercury. It’s as if my own chicks are munching away instead of yours.”

Mercury faced the adult male and replied, “As you very well should. The charm never vanishes, does it?”

“Not in the least."

"How amazing it is that they are basically immortal, and will remain with Lily and me forever. It’s almost beyond words.”

“Exactly, my friend. Your future as a mate and father is set.”

Mercury nodded in agreement and tended to his daughter, who was trying to wrestle a fruit away from her sister. When he had split the troublemakers apart and given the berry to its rightful owner, Tycho attracted his attention.

“Hey, Mercury?”

He met Tycho’s telling glare head-on and held it.

“Yes?”

“Everything will be alright. You’re a tough phoenix and a deserving father. Today was a dreadful day for you and your mate, but by Celestia, you’ll have thousands of superior ones to make up for it.”

“I understand,” he replied succinctly.

Tycho flashed him a wide smile.

After a short spell of silence, Tycho stated, “Mercury, I need to leave and get back to my family. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Don’t let me tie you down. And if you’re up for it, tell her about… you know. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us.”

“As you wish, friend. I pray that your mate comes home safely, and soon.”

“Thank you, Tycho. I would tell you that I owe you so much, but I already know you’ll deny it.”

“You’re right, Mercury,” he said with a chortle.

“Goodbye for now, and I hope we’ll meet again.”

“Likewise, Tycho. Goodbye.”

The visiting male nodded and rose into the air, his fit wings propelling him out of sight.

Focusing his attention on his offspring, Mercury waited until they devoured their first meal before caring for them. He licked their beaks clean of the strawberry slop, cooing to them all the while, and then decided an afternoon nap was in order.

Reclining on his back this time around, he goaded his offspring onto his chest, and then double-wrapped them by crossing his wings. He made sure to leave their heads exposed so that their breathing wouldn't be restricted.

Aside from a few sparse hiccups and peeps, they transitioned into unconsciousness one by one.

“That’s it, my darling children. Rest your tiny bodies…” Mercury muttered, growing drowsy as well.

As Tycho’s uplifting words ran circles in his head, he set his own consciousness free like a balloon in a tropical breeze.

In his cranial theater, Mercury found Cinnamon in a field of wildflowers. Incredibly surprised were both parties when the rest of the family – save for Lily – manifested. A sense of near-perfect harmony fueled their merriment as they traversed the vast meadow.

The indomitable Earth spun round while they partook in the festivities, and they only begun to wind down as night slammed down hard in the real world.

Mercury was watching his chicks splash in a shallow lake when the unthinkable happened: the dream was being ended.

The ground trembled as if an earthquake had seized the land. His heart dropped to his tail as the baby phoenixes were sucked down into the lake as a crack opened up beneath the water, their screams dying out in moments.

Mercury fainted at the sight and was jarred back to reality. He then picked up a burst of shuffling noises inches away and immediately grew tense.

Has a raccoon or other predator found me? It’ll be sorry it ever chose to sneak into my nest and try to harm any of us! Wait… they are still sleeping in my wings! Blast it!

He willed his tail to catch fire, only to hear not an animalistic cry, but a feminine apology: “I’m sorry I woke you, dear. I never meant to, it’s simply that… never mind…”

He had heard that special lilt for so long, it was unforgettable.

It was both wilted and bereft, and Mercury knew precisely why. He flung open his eyes to see Lily perched before him, drooping like a water-starved flower and bathed in the steady light from his tail.

He was immensely relieved that she was physically unhurt, but he could tell by the murkiness of her pupils that she was emotionally far less fortunate.

“I missed you so much, my dear.”

“I hope you’ll forgive me for deserting you. But the thought of the egg…” she moaned, her run-down voice trailing off. “Where is it?”

“It’s been… buried in the ash. You’ll never have to see it anymore. I couldn’t and wouldn’t smash it.”

A flicker of understanding glistened in her eyes, but it didn’t last long. “That’s… alright. It was the nicest grave… you could have given it.”

“It was our son I buried. I saw him in a dream after you flew off. He was so handsome...”

“Truly?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes,” he said flatly.

“He would have turned out to be as handsome as another male I know…”

“Thank you, dear. In my dream, I named him Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon,” she repeated, her unique lilt laced with melancholy. “What a lovely name…”

She bore into him with a dejected gaze, yet one back-lit by the faintest ray of jubilation.

“Come here, my love. I have a gift for you.”

She ambled around to his left side and bent down. He stuck a tender kiss on her cheek and nuzzled her head.

When she drew back, he said, “Our lives are not over, Liliana. They have only recently started. Now, I beg you to rest and restore your damaged soul.”

“There’s nothing else I can do…”

She settled down on her right side, scooting close enough so that she could lay her head on his curled left wing.

“Goodnight, my love. Everything will be alright,” he stated, mirroring his neighbor.

“Goodnight,” she replied stoically.

She had drawn her eyelids closed, and he did not dare disturb her until the next morning.

He repositioned his chicks – which were pulled from their slumber for the few short moments it took – and blanketed them with his right wing only. The left he tucked at his side, savoring the warmth radiating into it from his mate’s chest.

A fleeting osculation he adorned her forehead with, and then drew his own eyelids down fully.

My, no, our chicks are plastered against my chest, and she is by my side. What more could I ask for? Yes, Cinnamon may be nothing more than a memory, but he shall never be reduced to anything less. All may not be well in the short term, but in the long term, happiness will befriend us. All in due time…

His mental monologue evaporated, subjecting him to the call of relaxation. He answered that call without hesitation.

As his third dream organized itself, it turned out to be the most genial to date.

He perched in a stately apple tree, his six children strung out along the limb before him. He sat at the base of that thick bough, a space he shared with no one other than his beautiful Lily.

***

Mercury bore no qualms at the morning sun and its genteel manner of alerting the land that a new day had dawned. True to form, Lily’s pupils were awaiting him when he stirred, and nearly all traces of negativity had deserted them.

Customary greetings were swapped between the parents, not at all stained with their history’s cancerous events.

When they had fully wound up their senses, their creations were brought into the waking world as well – their reaction to being uprooted from their father’s plumage.

Mercury, having been unburdened, stretched and flexed his muscles almost to the breaking point.

Refraining before he managed to injure himself, they set about tackling a task that had been postponed for far too long: naming their sons and daughters. It was jointly decided that he would name the females, and she would name the males.

The endeavor began when the father closely inspected a female with a chest as red as a rose. He judged her to be the smallest of the bunch – and the lightest, a characteristic he found humorous. Her wings were shrunken to fit her stature, but were as full and stout as her siblings’ were.

Based on these observations, he deemed her Angel.

Lily accepted the name, and acknowledged her turn.

A male who was a clone of his mother in every way possible – if such an appearance made sense – beckoned to her. She hugged the youngster affectionately and called him Riley, a bold name for his bold features.

The adult male then snatched up a female who tried in vain to open her eyes, that short glimpse of her irises spurring him to instantly conjure up her title. The slim female’s two head feathers – modeled after her mother’s – would be known as Magenta. The inherent showiness of her physical design was a clear sign that she would be as visually resplendent as her mother once she matured.

Lily chose a more archaic name for the last male, opting to name him Zephyr.

Her mate accepted it, and then seized the sole unnamed female. She had inherited all of her father’s features, and could be classified as dashingly cute, rather than beautiful. Her rust-tinted plumage led him to call her Autumn, and his mate supported the fitting title.

As the chicks all had their names, a stubborn weight was lifted off of the parents’ shoulders. Their family was now whole, in every facet possible.

They had crossed the bridge over the canyon of trials, and they were now free to live their lives to the fullest. The enamored parents herded their children between them and kissed them nearly a dozen times each, sealing the blissful oath of a perfect future.

Their routine from that day onwards was restricted, as the chicks were still blind.

Mercury was the prime berry-hauler for his family, as Lily obeyed her maternal instincts and was confined to the nest. She, like the dragons who were starting to flock together for the prime stage of the Migration, did migrate from the nest herself to snack or bathe, on occasion.

The phoenix babies trumped their first milestone one day after Lily’s return, during a very laid-back evening. All five babies retracted their eyelids and drank in the alien world around them within twenty minutes of each other.

The parents lost themselves in the five pairs of multi-hued eyes, and then prepared a delectable feast to honor the occasion. Their home tree had begun to secrete cherries, but they were inedible green balls no bigger than apple seeds.

Lily foraged around the woods and hauled back two oranges, and then left the babies to their own devices.

Mercury spent a few minutes telling his children that the “orange” was a food item, not a play item. They understood that simple concept and one orange was devoured rapidly.

Half of the other was uneaten by the stuffed offspring, and Mercury and Lily obliged by downing that meager half.

Mercury brought back a third orange solely for him and his mate, and once their celebratory dinner was finished, the phoenix family succumbed to the whims of their bodies and dozed off.

Two days later, when the Dragon Migration reached its peak, the second collective milestone of the babies was realized.

The frequent, vibratory roaring cascaded down upon the forest, piquing the interest of the inquisitive youngsters. They moved their beaks to ask questions, but their mundane vocabulary was unsuited for forming words, let alone complete sentences.

But as the day wore on – which Mercury and Lily spent chatting with each other – the youngsters seemed to learn some of the words they were saying.

In the early afternoon, one of the males shoved from his throat an intelligible stutter: “M-Mommy… what i-is… noise… I h-hears?”

The parents were rendered speechless as Zephyr’s broken question filtered into their ears. Although there was not a berry-based feast to be had, a gala of proud hugs and kisses was the end result.

Oddly enough, Zephyr’s question was unintentionally forgotten in light of his achievement.

Zephyr’s siblings witnessed the gratitude their parents dumped on him – though they did not understand it as such – and struggled to speak in order to gain that same affection.

His four siblings had all spoken by the time the crescent moon claimed its throne, and the parents – who were proud five times over – slept fitfully.

Three days passed, so full of conversation between parent and child that it was as if the children had possessed the ability of speech since their birth.

Four days after the chicks mouthed their first phrases, both Mercury and Lily agreed to try and teach the quintessential gift of flight to their babies. Cradled in their parents’ talons, it was the best possible substitute for flying available.

Mercury and Lily allotted nearly a half hour for each youngster to test the waters, so to speak, and they were positively restless by the time all had used up their turns.

They were led out onto the lowest branch of the cherry tree, their mother on the end and their father stationed below to cushion them when they plummeted.

Magenta, Riley, and Angel kept themselves airborne after a few failed launches, but Zephyr and Autumn were not as lucky, for whatever reason.

They believed that flight was something that came naturally, but having to be constantly caught by their father was crushing their fledgling spirits. They were doubly damned by the fact that their siblings could float and flutter over their heads, and its awkwardness was irrelevant.

On the verge of crying, only Lily’s encouraging words helped them stave off their sadness.

Ten tries deep, Zephyr came through and hovered like a butterfly. Autumn succeeded on her eleventh, turning the quartet of accomplished chicks into a quintet.

Their stubby wings only marginally functioned, and so their energy reserves lasted only minutes.

At the goading of their parents, they flitted from the low bough to their home, an upward climb that sapped the last shreds of their stamina. They had all lapsed into a snooze shortly after Mercury and Lily touched down.

The adults saw no other course of action except to bed down and snooze as well, but the timely – or untimely, call it what you wish – appearance of a phoenix family nullified that option.

Mercury and Lily warmed the ash for their children, and then ushered Tycho and his family to a nearby tree. Out of earshot of the napping babies – though still able to see the nest clearly – they talked with normal volume.

Mercury and Lily were introduced to Tycho’s daughter, Jasmine, and his two sons, Connor and Blake. Next, news of each set of youngsters’ developments was traded, and then the topic of discussion shifted to the adults.

When that hearty and drawn-out conversation came to an end, only a few hours lay between the sun’s present position and its collision with the horizon.

They need not visually confirm the sun’s whereabouts to know their forecast was true, as their near-extraordinary sensibilities did that automatically.

Tycho and Alexandra noted the other couple’s craving for sleep, and said their goodbyes curtly, yet politely. The recipients took said goodbyes in good faith, and saw the five phoenixes off.

Mercury and Lily plunged into golden slumbers as they crouched down on the ash, curling around their children protectively.

They imagined each day to be special in a unique way, no matter how ordinary it presented itself to outsiders. The track record of their recent lives persuaded them even more strongly to believe that was true.

Even for all their quasi-magical senses, they had no inklings that the following day would turn out to be a thrill ride, and an emotional one at that.

***

The Dragon Migration was a moving spectacle for those who could see it, but the noise pollution was a different story.

The more adventurous dragons would often swoop down towards the forest, opening their fearsome mouths and releasing roars of sound and flame.

One such bellow awoke a certain phoenix family during a late afternoon siesta, irritating the parents and their spawn alike.

"Those blasted lizards and their careless yelling!” Lily said in exasperation. “They aren’t even near their gathering grounds, and yet they insist on uttering their disrespectful calls wherever they please!”

Her mate gave her an assenting nod and replied, “Shall I send for Celestia and have them banished to the moon?”

She huffed snootily and said, “I sorely wish you could.”

“Mommy, why are the liz… lizards so loud?” Riley queried.

She looked down at her son and said, “Because their voices are as big as their appetites.”

“What’s an app-appetite?”

“An appetite is how much someone likes to eat.”

Riley was unable to decipher why she had compared two different things, and so he shrugged.

“Oh. Okay,” he said nonchalantly.

“Lily, is there anything you would like for dinner, now that we’re all up?”

“Um, I could go for some blueberries. I’m not in the mood for anything heavy.”

Nodding, he glanced down at his offspring.

“And what would you like to eat, my dears?”

“I want strawberries,” Magenta said.

“I want blueberries!” Riley exclaimed.

“I want an orange!” Zephyr proclaimed.

Angel and Autumn looked at each other and added, “We want a banana!”

Assailed by the slew of requests, Mercury flapped his wings briskly to restore order.

“Calm down, children, please!"

Having passively shut their beaks, he exhaled and added, "I can’t be everywhere at once, so you’ll have to decide what you want to eat as a group.”

Silence reigned as each chick thought and thought.

Autumn spoke up and shattered it: “Blueberries, Daddy.”

“Me too,” her sisters said in unison.

“Blueberries, I guess,” Riley conceded.

“What Riley said,” his brother announced.

“Fine. Blueberries it is. Thank you for cooperating.”

He trounced over to Lily and pecked her on the cheek. The males groaned, and the females giggled.

“I won’t be gone long, dear. But with this many beaks to feed, I may need to take more than one trip.”

She kissed him back and said, “However many it takes, I want you to stay safe, and don’t feel like you need to rush.”

“If I can handle them,” he flicked his head towards the chicks none too shyly, “then I can handle anything.”

“True, true,” she commented. “Now go on. The longer you stand there, the longer we have to deal with our hunger.”

“Right,” he said, and flew off.

Lily snatched Magenta out of the air, who attempted to trail jerkily after her father.

While his mother casually scolded her, Zephyr mumbled, “I still want an orange…”

Lily preened them graciously while her mate was away, and their pleas to not be groomed fell on deaf ears. She had tidied up all five of them by the time Mercury returned, albeit with an excessive cargo of blueberries.

The mound he formed from the spheres was as tall as Autumn and three times as wide.

“Did you have to bring so many, dear?” Lily asked sternly. “I think you brought more than we needed.”

“Better to be overstuffed than starved, beautiful,” he said with a wink. “We’ll finish them. You’ll see.”

Magenta had parted her beak wide and was about to haphazardly chomp down, but Lily made her think twice by turning her head and glaring at her.

Mercury rotated all the way around and saw one sheepish daughter amongst her benign siblings.

“Practicing to be the troublemaker, are we, Magenta?”

“I’m sorry,” she said glumly.

Realizing she assumed he was serious, he bent down and rubbed her head with his wing.

“I was only teasing, my sweet. But anyways, go ahead and dig in… calmly.”

She chomped down on one single berry, and her siblings did the same, adhering to their father’s guideline.

As the adult male had predicted, there were enough of the navy spheres to go around. The chicks were allowed to eat their fill first, and their parents mopped up what was left.

The adults satiated the gnawing voids in their bellies, and then lazed around to let their dinner digest.

Their offspring splashed the ash on one another like it was beach sand, but after some of it ended up in their father’s eyes, they shamefully changed tactics.

They used their blossoming imaginations to draw shapes in the fine powder, eliciting wide smiles from their parents many times. They had just finished a rather-large design that resembled a sun and moon side by side when a constant rustling distracted them.

The adults picked up on it too, and stood up. They waddled to the rim and peeked out, then down.

A large brown bush a short distance away was rocking steadily, as if something inside was trying to wriggle free.

Angel hopped to the edge next to her mother, but was too diminutive to see over.

“Mommy, Daddy, what is it?” she asked quietly.

“We don’t know yet. Just stay down, Angel,” Lily replied.

She crossed her wings in front of her chest and stared at her mother, but she went unnoticed.

All of a sudden, the culprit of the disturbance emerged: a small purple dragon about Mercury’s height, adorned with green spikes, and as intimidating as a ladybug.

“What is an inoffensive dragon like him doing here?”

“He doesn’t even have any wings! So much for his Great Migration,” she said, chuckling.

To their surprise, the so-called dragon waggled his arms and called out: “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Phoenix! I was hoping I could have a word with you!”

“What business does he have with us, Mercury?”

“Who knows, dear? Let’s pretend we can’t understand him, and perhaps he’ll disappear.”

Their confused expressions became blank expressions, and the dragon spoke again: “Um, I’d um, like to ask you some questions, actually!”

The rustling emanated from the bush a second time, accompanied by what sounded like a male voice of some sort.

The only words they heard were: “… haven't … day… Spike…”

“Do you think the dragon’s name is Spike?” he questioned in a whisper.

“If it is, it sure isn’t very fitting,” she retorted softly.

Mercury felt a pressure in the middle of his back and craned his head around.

“Angel? Didn’t your mother tell you to stay down? I am not for climbing, I’ll have you know,” he said sternly.

“Gah. Okay…” she grumbled and inched her way for his tail.

Mercury, his eyes trained on his daughter, heard Spike taunt, “Hey, you birdbrains! Come and get me!”

The instant he spun his head around, a sharp jolt of pain radiated throughout his skull.

Angel scooted off hastily as he squawked, “Ow! What in Celestia’s name was that!?”

The babies gasped and briefly studied the gray intruder in front of them before Lily picked it up.

“You mean this?” she asked pointedly, holding a jagged stone in front of him.

His eyes slanted in anger as he declared, “That idiot dragon… is going to pay!”

His entire body was consumed in piercing yellow flames in the blink of an eye.

“I’ll be right behind you,” she said through a clenched beak.

Lily summoned her own full-body blaze and warned, “Stay right here, children!”

Seeing their parents transform so drastically awed and spooked the babies, so much so that Lily's decree was unnecessary.

Mercury soared into the air, Lily hot on his tail, and the flaming birds dove for the scaly criminal. The dragon jumped in fright and ran off as fast as his legs would take him.

“Some dragon you are, fleeing like a coward!” Lily seethed.

“If you can inflict pain on others, you better be able to endure it in kind!” Mercury screeched.

As his pulse increased in speed, he could feel a spot on top of his head throbbing at the same rate.

The swift male came up on the dragon fast, and opened his beak wide to snap at the it’s flapping tail. The distance between them was so diminished, fright poured from its scales like a clear fog.

He tensed his beak muscles for the impending bite, but the five voices he heard from afar stopped him cold.

“Mommy! Daddy! The lizards are chasing us! Where are you!?” his children screamed.

“Lily, our little ones!”

“Forget the blasted dragon! They need our help!”

He and Lily banked viciously, rocketing off the way they came, tracing the high-pitched chirps to their source.

Their five chicks were barely staying out of reach of three formidable dragons, their wings beating furiously. Their flight was remarkably straight, but neither parent thought much on that observation.

“We’ll have to outrun them and swoop in from one side, Lily! Burn the lizards if you have to!”

“Let’s go!”

They pushed themselves hard to close the gap, their fires blazing and whipping around madly.

Upon closing said gap, they overshot it and went wide.

The glimmers of terror in the five pairs of wide-open eyes converted the parents’ anger into rage, and they banked hard, preparing for the intercept.

“We’re on our way!” they shrieked, and flew right into the pursuers’ path.

A unifying signal swept from the adults and into the children, and they veered off in the direction of their creators’ wake seamlessly.

Lily felt her tail graze across a rough surface and thought, Serves you right, you cursed fiend! Never touch my little ones, or I’ll scorch you again!

A short bellow of pain sounded from the lead dragon, and Lily managed a rapid smirk.

Mercury was in the lead, Lily was on his right, and the baby phoenixes flew on beneath them.

Neither Mercury nor Lily had flown at such a velocity in years, and it was as disconcerting as it was exhilarating. The creatures under their bellies, driven by emotions more poisonous than mere desire, matched their speed.

They rocketed on until the forest itself began to thin, the plentiful patches of azure and violet twilight replacing the monotone green canopy.

The mother twisted her head and saw that the airborne lizards had not given up. Their wings were at least twice as large as a phoenix’s, and could propel them along with less effort.

“Mercury, they’re gaining on us! What do we do?”

He recited in his head, Think, think think! Wait… that’s it!

“I’m going to blind them. Don’t stop for anything!”

“Alright. Go! Go!”

They lurched ahead as he braked with his wings, and then he faced the oncoming attackers. He then pushed himself higher and higher while flapping his wings in reverse.

Once he reached an optimum altitude, he shut his eyes in concentration.

Fiercely, he recalled the ecstasy of his first sexual union with Lily, doing his best to imagine that that wonderful explosion of sensation was consuming his bones.

After ten seconds of literally thinking his mind into overdrive, he physically achieved his goal.

A brilliant flash of light outshone the fading sun with ease as he enveloped himself in a trademark miniature star. Sustaining it required little exertion, and so he popped his eyes open and tilted his head down.

The attackers were shielding their faces from the glare, which meant they had also blocked out their own sight in the process. He cracked an icy smile of sheer triumph as they plowed into a tree, which toppled over after the impact of their scales upon its bark.

As he winked out his light – keeping his body aflame – he heard a raspy voice say, “They got away! I hate that…”

You were fools to even pursue us in the first place. I hope you lizards learned never to meddle with a phoenix’s family and expect to get off lightly!

He spun around onto his belly and searched the horizon for Lily and the babies, only recognizing a floating sheet of flame to his left. He doubled his flight speed and drifted in beside her less than half a minute hence.

“They’re gone, dear. I made them crash into a tree. We’re safe, thank Celestia.”

“I was hoping… you’d say that. Where are we… going to rest? Our little ones… are exhausted… as am I.”

Mercury nodded his assent.

“We’ll find a place, dear. I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s wise to return home. Dragons are a stubborn lot, and those three may be on the prowl for Celestia knows how long…”

“It’s alright, I suppose. We can always… build a new nest and fill it with comfy ash. We didn’t leave behind anything… valuable…”

Mercury responded flatly, “Hmmm, you’re right. The egg... will never be disturbed again.”

“Perhaps…” she replied in the same dull tone.

“Where are we going? My wings hurt, Daddy!” Riley whined.

“Anywhere but here, my son. There’s bound to be a forest somewhere nearby, though it may not be as secluded as our former home. Beggars can’t be choosers…”

Their trek guaranteed to be illuminated for at least another hour, they rose into the sky and initiated the search for a new forest to inhabit.

***

Back at the woods the phoenixes had abandoned, Spike emerged from the rut he had been hiding in – created when he had tripped while the flaming birds were chasing him. He neared the tree that held their destroyed nest, which lay in tatters both in the branches and on the turf.

However, a two-tone artifact shaped like an oval had somehow ended up on the ground as well, and it was perfectly intact.

“Huh. What have we got here?” Spike asked himself as he picked it up.

Is this a phoenix egg? Where did it… it must have been knocked from the nest! But how?

Spike glanced at the ruined mass of twigs and ash, and came to an even more startling conclusion: Those phoenixes… this is their egg! And I gave Garble and his goons the chance to chase them away! They’re probably long gone by now. This is all my fault. Was it worth it to do this to them, to split their family up?

Spike had little time to dwell on his uncouth actions, for three dragons slammed down around him.

Garble, Jake, and Clod were back.

“What happened?” Spike asked concernedly.

“They got away! The…”

The russet dragon cut off his reply and held his eyes on the package in Spike’s claws.

Smiling, he leaned down towards the oval and asked, “Hey, you stole an egg?”

He was torn between saying that he had, which would please his buddies, or saying that he hadn’t, which would probably make them angry and earn him a beat-down.

“Uh… I-”

“Well, I guess the raid wasn’t a total waste after all,” Garble said.

“Yeah! Whoa ho ho! All right!” the brown and purple dragons cheered.

Feeling quite smug that he had gained their trust and acceptance, he could only grin. His former regret was washed clean out of him by the delighted cackling, and he began to imagine himself a true dragon.

Garble slapped him painfully on the shoulder and said, “Nice goin’, Spike.”

He fumbled with the egg, securing it in his claws before it splatted on the soil. Clod thrust his head next to Spike’s, and the minuscule dragon recoiled away from Clod’s sharp teeth.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Spike? Smash it!” he ordered.

“Smash the egg?” Spike replied incredulously, pressing it against his cheek.

“Yeah!” the overweight dragon replied.

“Yeeaah, throw it on the ground as hard as you can!” Jake exclaimed.

“Yeah! Smash it! Smash it! Smash it!” the gang yelled.

While their motivating chants clogged the air, Spike lifted his hands over his head. He believed the act could cement his status as a dragon in every way possible, and maybe even gain him entry into Garble’s elite posse.

However, a twang of guilt surfaced in side him, thrumming constantly.

Should I sacrifice this egg for them? Should I take this unborn chick’s life, just to make my own life better? The egg must be so close to hatching!

Spike scowled as he saw their evil expressions stabbing into him, and he stretched even taller, balancing on his toes.

He closed his eyes and bunched up his muscles, and within his brain, he made the damning choice.