As the legend went, there was a bird. It flew far across the nine skies. It would never land on anything other than parasol trees, nor feed on anything other than bamboos. It would land once every 500 years.
And on that day of landing, it would be the day of Nirvana.
Through each Nirvana, it would have to endure a trial of fiery flames and death.
But after every Nirvana, its feathers would be ever more luscious, its voice ever crisper, and its spirit even more vigorous. And when it spread its wings up into the skies once more, it’s dazzling brilliance would light up the entire world.
Phoenix’s Nirvana… Rebirth through flames.
What was left of Chicky was a mix of meat and blood, lying quietly still. The patches of blood were bright red like burning flame.
Suddenly, the blood seemed to have come alive. Like little flame pixies, they danced around and encased Chicky’s body, as though the blood was praying to a long forlorn God.
