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Wilford was always one for adventure, he’d been trained to be a knight from almost the day he could walk.
Their kingdom bordered the woods where all manner of creatures, both normal or otherwise haunted. So it was always important for the guards and knights to be on their toes.
However as of late he’d found that his mind was straying from his knightly duties. Duties which seemed to become more and more horrid and tasteless as the days went on.
It all began some weeks ago when the court mage and a group of soldiers dragged in a man with ashen skin and dark hair. His robes were dark as soot and he kicked and screamed like a banshee.
The King at first had been rather unimpressed by the man who was dragged in front of him. Until the mage took an iron dagger and stabbed the man through the heart. He dropped with a curse and a scream and for the first time Wilford had the urge to run over and beat the man. But in merely a few minutes the dead man caught fire and he started to pick himself back up. Still just as pissed, with still just as much fire in his eyes, his clothes briefly flaring into blues, reds, and purples before turning back to sooty greys.
The mage exposed his captive as a phoenix and delivered him as a gift to the King. And the King had been delighted but eventually had to cordon off the creature in a room because he was violent and angry . . .
And Wilford was pretty sure he had fallen in love. Which was a problem for many reasons.
After a few days Wilford was put on rotation to guard the stunning creature and he found the creature’s tongue to be as witty as the creature was pretty.
Wilford gave him the nickname: Darkling; or Dark because he refused to give his actual name.
Days turned into weeks and Wilford watched in fear as the King wanted things from the phoenix. He wanted feathers and to hear him sing and was very angry when he refused the regent. Wilford tried to sneak Dark things: food when the King and court mage tried to break him to their will, a firm guard against soldiers who wanted more heinous things than feathers, and eventually when a month had passed, Wilford gave him something more than food or protection.
It was late when Wilford snuck down to the dungeons. He was not meant to be on shift and he crept through the stone walls without armor to avoid detection. Ten minutes ago he had laced his phoenix’s guards’ drinks with a sleep draught right after a shift change. Now he was making sure no one had come down.
It had been a boring day at the castle and Wilford was using that to his advantage. When he neared the cell, he took the key from one of the guards and carefully opened the door as quiet as he could.
Dark jolted awake and Wilford tossed him his own hooded cloak.
“Put this on, quickly,” Wilford whispered. “We can’t have someone recognize you and we don’t have much time.”
The phoenix stared at him and in the low torch light Wilford couldn’t make out the expression. But Wilford quickly used the keys to undo the cuffs on his wrists and ankles. Dark threw on the cloak, and when Wilford rushed out of the cell, he followed.
“Okay,” Wilford checked down the hall, “we seem to be in the clear.”
When he looked back, the phoenix was getting up from where he had been crotched over one of the soldiers.
“I have a horse waiting outside the walls of the city,” Wilford whispered, “once we get out there, you take the horse and ride as fast as you can.”
“What about you?” Dark’s tone was guarded.
“Nevermind me,” Wilford grabbed the hood and pulled it low over the creature’s stunning face. “No one has seen me down here, and if we’re quick no one will even know I was here.”
After that the two began heading out of the castle, sneaking through a servants’ entrance and bypassed the courtyard entirely. The pair made it out into the city where Wilford was leading his phoenix towards the walls of the city.
Then Wilford heard something that made his stomach drop.
“Hey, Wilford! There you are!”
Wilford flinched, clutching at his phoenix’s arm in fear, dreading that they’d been caught. He looked back to see a couple other young knights walking over to him.
Dark sagged against him, burying his face in the front of Wilford’s shirt. Wilford looked down and saw his face and . . .
Dark had become a woman! Or at least he looked enough like one.
“Wil,” his phoenix whined, tone slurred as if drunk. “I’m cold, you promised me somewhere warm.”
The soldiers laughed, one said, “Having fun, huh?”
One of them clapped him on the back, “Don’t let us keep you, you ol’ [1] stallion.”
And then they walked off, Wilford watched them go nervously before his phoenix was pulling him along. Dark still looked like a woman and as the moonlight hit her short hair, Wilford found himself dangerously entranced.
Tripping on a rock and almost bashing his skull open, helped him focus on escape and after slipping through the gate, Wilford led Dark off into the woods.
Dark stayed tense, braced to attack as Wilford led the creature over to the horse and untied it.
“Alright, jump on,” Wilford led the horse over, looking upon Dark’s gorgeous face and feeling breathless. He hoped that for the phoenix’s sake it would be the last time they met, even if the thought did break his heart.
“Why are you doing this?” Dark asked him from the other side of the horse.
“Because such a beautiful and wild bird shouldn’t be trapped in a cage,” Wilford told her and his words hit Dark.
Dark took off her cloak, “Get on the horse.”
“What?” Wilford asked.
“Is there anything of value in your home? If not, you should come with me.” Dark told him.
“I—” Wilford stalled. “What about you?”
“I can fly,” Dark told him. “Do you need to get anything?”
“I already have it,” Wilford smiled and jumped onto the horse.
Dark threw him the cloak, and the phoenix smiled, “Put that on, can’t have someone recognize you.”
Wilford blushed and once the cloak was on, Dark erupted into blue and red fire and changed back into a man. His soot grey clothes turned into deep shades of purple, blue, and red. Almost like a peacock. His hair billowed with fire. He turned back into a man and even his facial hair caught fire.
All Wilford could do was stare at the entrancing beauty. At the wings that his arms had turned into, at the red and blue and purple features that caught the moonlight in an ethereal way.
When he could speak he said, “Lead the way, my King.”
Dark smiled and with one downward beat shot off and Wilford took off on horseback after him.