Phoenix: Shadows of the Past
By Nike
********************************************************************************
 Chapter One: Goldenfire  

In the beginning... 
The dark alleys of downtown Alexandria…
       Janus stared at the scraggy-looking thin young red haired girl, with amusement in his eyes. It was clear that she was an orphan, like the rest of them. Just another child whose parents probably abandoned her since birth. An orphan was not an uncommon site in this dump. He probably would have ignored her; he had already a lot of orphans to take care of in his gang anyway. But there was something in that kid’s eyes that drew him. 
       Her eyes didn’t have that desperate, hopeless look that he saw in the others. 
       Her eyes shone with a strange kind of fire…pride, maybe?
       Janus smiled. He was sure that this kid is a survivor, all right.
       “Who are you?” 
       “Goldenfire.” 
An eyebrow lifted. “Goldenfire? Who gave you that name? Your parents?”
Dark green eyes narrowed. “I don’t HAVE any parents.”
       Janus snorted in amusement. “Come on, you don’t REALLY believe that you don’t have ANY parents.”
       “I don’t believe in anything except Death, because I’ve never seen a miracle, but I’ve seen lots and lots of dead people!”
       A frown. “Do you want to join my gang?”
       “Do I get to have some food?”
       Janus nodded. “Only if you could pick a man’s wallet from his pocket without him noticing it, then you can.” He replied. “Do you think you could learn that?”
       “Yup. I learn fast.”
        A smile. “Welcome to the my gang, Goldenfire.”
***
	A year later in downtown Alexandria…
	The Blood Plague.
       A gasping cough drew her attention and the young red haired girl quickly ran towards the weak form huddled in a corner of the abandoned warehouse.
       “Janus?”
       Another hacking cough. “I’m…here…Goldenfire.”
       She handed him a piece of leftover bread. The only thing she could find this plague-ridden city. “Here, Janus, eat this. I was able to find something while scavenging.” She forced a smile. “I guess I was lucky, huh?”
       The sick boy turned his deathly pale to a small window nearby. “They are all gone.” He whispered. “The plague took them.”
       Goldenfire  nodded. “We’re the only ones left.”
       Another hacking cough. “Goldenfire…there’s something I…want you…to do…for...me, before I go…”
       Green eyes widened with panic. “Don’t say that!” she shouted. “You are going to get well soon!”
       He shook his head. “No.” Cough. “I could feel my insides turning to pus already.”
       “Janus!”
       “No, let me speak. Goldenfire, you were my best thief despite your age and I’m glad that you didn’t get the plague. Unlike the rest of us. Must be some kind of miracle, you know?” He managed a faint smile before succumbing to another hacking cough. “You remember the gun that we got from that soldier a month ago? I want you to get that gun and…kill me.”
       “Janus?”
       “Please, I don’t want to feel the pain anymore. Goldenfire, please end this now.” He gasped. 
       “Janus.” She hugged the sick boy tightly as tears of despair fell from her eyes.
***   
	Minutes later, the red haired girl stood before the sick boy, holding a gun in her hand.
        She told herself as she slowly raised the gun.
       “Do…it…”
       She hesitated, looking miserable. “I’ll miss you.” She whispered, lowering the gun. “You were the first friend I had.”
       "I will always be with you." The sick boy smiled weakly despite the pain that wracked his body. “Do it now, Goldenfire. Stop the pain…I don’t want to die like the others…”
       The girl hesitated. “Janus…I…”
        “Do... it, Goldenfire…”
       The girl never smiled as she raised the gun once more, still looking directly into her friend’s eyes. Her expression never changed as her finger tightened on the trigger. 
       And it still didn't change as the body became still, a pooling stain of red appearing on the muddy ground, or as she dropped the gun and huddled herself in the darkness. 
        she thought and then the tears fell from her eyes. 
******
Chapter Two: Nixe Goldenfire

       A young red haired girl, dressed in a black shirt and pants, sat on the steps of an orphanage, staring up with wide-eyed wonder at the glittering stars. She was hugging both knees to her chest, shivering in the cold night air. There were no clouds on this night, and the false machine-weather created a fantastic tapestry of stars against the dark blue-black velvet of the sky. A wistful little sigh shook her tiny form, as her eyes picked out the brightest star, then closed tightly as she formed a wish. 
       "Nixe?" 
       She turned at the sound of her name, the new name that was given to her when they took her in, the only survivor when a plague struck one of the rundown ghettos of the country, and smiled at the woman who had taken the place of the nameless mother of her dreams. It was one of the few times he had seen her without her customary veil, and her curly blonde hair shimmered like gilt silver in the artificial light. In her hands, she held a thick quilted blanket, which she set around her shoulders, before sitting beside her. 
       "It's cold. You should have worn a jacket." There was no anger in her voice; only a gentle reprimand. The girl who was called Nixe made a face, then leaned against her, sighing again. She placed a slim arm around the girl’s shoulders and hugged her lightly. 
       "Why such a great sigh?" she asked gently, tugging lightly on the end of her ponytail. 
       "Nothing important," she assured her, with a sigh. She tousled her blood red hair gently with her fingers, combing through the loose strands gently, waiting with inexorable patience until she finally gave in, and sighed a third time before snuggling closer. 
       "I want to know who I was," she told her seriously. "I want to know what my name was, before I became Goldenfire, and I want to know what my mother looked like. But, I've been with Janus' gang for as long as I can remember, and then I came to stay here. I know she's dead. I still want to know what she looks like, though..." she trailed off, her voice wistful. "I want to know what it's like to have a mother." 
       The woman was silent for a moment, before running her fingers through her hair again. "Nixe, no matter who you were, or who you are now, your mother is a part of you," she said gently. "If you were radically different from as you are now, she would still be inside you. Your mother - even death can't destroy the link you have with your mother. It doesn't matter if you never knew her, or don't remember her face, or the name she called you. What matters is that you remember she's with you, no matter what. She'll watch over you, and make sure you're safe, even at the end, when death comes for you." 
       Nixe shivered, and she suddenly felt guilty for talking of such serious matters with such a young girl. But the eyes that looked up at her, dark green and thoughtful were old; they were mature and intelligent, and she could see her processing her words carefully. After all, Nixe was no stranger to death.  But she had been so happy, here, at the orphanage, and she felt bad for reminding her for death's ever-waiting presence. 
       Finally, Nixe nodded, as if satisfied with whatever conclusion her mind had come up with, and smiled up at her, an earnest little girl once more. "Thank you very much, Sister Artemis," she said formally, wrapping both thin arms around her waist and burying her face against her side. She smiled, sadly, and touched her thick hair again, before looking up at the wide, stretching expanse of dark sky over head. 
       A shooting star streaked across, catching her by surprise. Superstitions whispered uneasily in her mind, but she ignored it, looking down at the girl who had now climbed into her lap and was on his way to dozing off. Nixe was different and she saw shooting stars as good luck. With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and made her own wish, before sweeping the sleepy girl into her arms and carrying her to bed. 
***
       “I don’t believe in anything except Death, because I’ve never seen a miracle, but I’ve seen lots and lots of dead people!”
       The old man closed his eyes, his fingers knotted together under his chin. Around him, he could hear the terrified whispering of the orphans, and the restless shift of nervous bodies. He ignored them all, even the gentle one who touched his face with cool hands and helped him to sit up. His thoughts were focused entirely on the young red haired girl he had taken in, and adopted as his own. 
       “If I come with you…will you let them all go?” 
       Prayer had not helped the poor child before; prayer would not help her now. 
       
       Voices spoke sharply over his head, saying things he only half-heard. 
       "Stop! He's an old man - what harm can he do to you?" 
       "Shut up, woman! We'll do as we damn well please!" 
       "This is a holy place! You can't just -" 
       "I said shut UP!" 
       There was the sound of flesh striking flesh and a pained cry as the woman who supported him fell aside. A rough, black-toed boot gouged him roughly in the side. "Hey! Old man! Look at me when I'm talking to you." The old man raised his eyes; hands still tightly clasped together. The soldier stared down at him with cold, hard eyes, hefting his gun ominously. "We'll give you a chance to save your sorry asses. Let us have the kid. She’s a firestarter. We could use someone like her around the base." 
       There was an outraged murmur from all the women of the temple, and he heard Artemis speak again. "No! Father, we can't give Nixe to people like them!" 
       "Shut up, bitch!" 
       There was a sharp cracking sound, and Artemis cried out once more. The old man's expression never changed, and he continued to stare fully into the face of his tormentor. 
       "Well, old man? What's it gonna be?" 
       He closed his eyes. 
       
       "I can't do that. I WON’T do that. If you take Nixe, it will not be with my consent." 
       The soldier laughed. "Old bastard, we don't NEED your permission. If you're not gonna cooperate, we'll just have to do this the old-fashioned way." 
       Over the roar of blood in his ears, he heard the sound of a gun being lifted and cocking. 
       He only had time to whisper a single word: "Don't." 
       There was a sharp retort, echoed by a woman's shrill scream. His world fell away into a misty haze of red, and he landed heavily on the cold stone floor, staring with empty eyes at the ceiling. 
       Somehow, through the growing darkness, he could still see the delicate figures etched in the stained glass, the faces of the temple women and of the orphans... 
       And he saw a little girl who looked at him doubtfully as he spoke of mercy and goodness, hesitant, but finally beginning to understand. 
       And he saw that fragile trust destroyed. 
       “FATHER HELLAS!”
       And the last thing the old man was aware of were the flames that started to engulf the orphanage and the cries of all those who were trapped inside. 
*** 
 	
       A little red haired girl sat huddled against the broken body of a gentle woman and stared blankly at the charred gray landscape of shattered stone all around her. 
       
       The dying red rays of sunlight found and sparked off the sharp metallic edge of a golden flame-shaped locket. Dull green eyes followed the sharp gleam, and a small, grubby hand reached out, closing around the fragile chain. 
       
       Fingers tightened, and the locket made a soft clinking sound as it swung from the sudden movement. 
       
       Tears of blood fell from the young girl’s eyes as she stared at the charred remains of the temple.
       
       Dead green eyes looked up at the sky, where the faded pink-blue of sunset was melting into the deeper violet glow of twilight. 
       
*******
Chapter Three: Peacekeeper Agent 02

       Somewhere over Olympia, Seven years ago….
	  
       Peacekeeper Agent 02, Nixe Goldenfire, said to herself as she sat by the hijacked plane’s navigation system and watched her companions argue among themselves on who would stay behind to steer the plane away from the city below while the rest parachuted to safety. The pilot was wounded and unconscious and the battered plane was losing fuel fast. There were five of them and there were only four parachutes left. It was clear that one would have to stay behind to allow the rest to live.
	She brushed loose strands of her long, blood-red hair that was tied into a ponytail, away from her dark green eyes that was the color of emeralds and stood up.

    Source: geocities.com/tokyo/highrise/Highrise/5459

               ( geocities.com/tokyo/highrise/Highrise)                   ( geocities.com/tokyo/highrise)                   ( geocities.com/tokyo)