The Creation of an Island and a Species
Fenikso Isle itself was founded on the ashes of Metrodora, one of the eldest living Phoenixes at the time of her rebirth. It is uncertain if she was one of the very first, or if those before her had simply fallen at the hands of predators and hunters alike, but she is thought of as the matron of the Island at the very least.
Her initial rebirth on the Island and the first ashes that spread to begin the shaping of Fenikso was one of pure circumstance. Metrodora and her mate, Agni, fled to the small patch of land to escape a true death on the mainland when their nesting space was discovered by a pack of hunters who had made it their goal to eliminate the species. With technology still so juvenile and boats incredibly barbaric in structure, they could not be followed into the ocean. It was a massive risk for the two Phoes, but they'd been chased across the land mass that would one day be dubbed America. Intelligent and driven by the need to survive, they flew with nothing but hope and the desire to find somewhere to thrive.
Initially the Isle was small, with just a few glimpses of wildlife and natural flora. They landed for rest, and Metrodora found herself at the end of yet another of her life cycles. The Island was not enough to sustain her or Agni, who would be responsible for helping her to rise from her ashes and reach an age where she could yet again care for herself. The magic imbued in the ashes she burned away into took hold of the ground and wound through it. For the first time, Fenikso grew.
Agni's cycle came once Metrodora was back on her feet, repeating the process that she had started. They waited and watched the small shore, wondering if and when danger might find them. When they had both reached maturity without any sort of threat on their doorstep, it was time to take flight again.
The state of the mainland was worse than when they left it. Several nests had been destroyed. Fallen kin were found throughout, and the pair realized that their species was in great peril. The safe Island that they had found would not sustain a large population, but they lead their kin back to Fenikso with the same hope that they'd had when they first found it. As their kin were reborn, the initial magic that Metrodora's first rebirth there had imbued the land with took hold of their ashes and continued it's growth. Eventually, the Island was thriving and sustainable.
While the Phoenix species seemed to have found it's place in the world, mankind continued to flourish as well. Technology advanced, albeit slowly, and their intelligence increased with each new discovery and generation. Ships were built. Weapons found upgrades. The hunters found themselves driven by a desire for the survival of their species, with a fear of what they didn't understand. Supernatural of all sorts found themselves in the crosshairs of attacks they did not realize they had warranted, simply by living in a way that mankind did not understand.
The Phoenix was never meant to be stationary. While Fenikso was the perfect Island home for them, many longed to stretch their wings and continue with their journy across the seemingly infinite world. Metrodora had seen it all, and so she remained at the roost with Agni while the others took their turns traveling. Eventually, this brought danger straight to their doorstep. With the advancements made with ships, hunters began to track the birds across the great sea.
The first attack came and spread destruction through the Island. Many of Metrodora's kin fell, though the hunters did not make it off the Island alive. Wounded Phoes fled back to the mainland shores without any real direction of where to go. Their safehaven had been compromised. Metrodora was tired; she was an elder, even with a fresh rebirth not so far behind her. The future of her species was in peril, and she did not know what to do. The second attack found her wounded, and renewed the sense that the Island was no longer the safehaven that it had once been. It seemed as though perhaps the evolution of mankind would be the extinction of the Phoenix, and there was nothing more that the poor old bird could think to do.
When the third attack came, Metrodora had laid just two eggs. An egg was rare; two was unheard of. The resident birds of Fenikso Isle defended the nest as best as they could, seemingly one last hopeful battle to drive the hunters off for good. New ships arrived, and hope appeared to be lost- until the inhabitants unloaded, revealing a band of witches, vampires, werewolves and other supernaturals who had caught wind of an Island where perhaps their kind could thrive, and where a species was dying. This time around, the hunters found themselves entirely outnumbered. Their bodies were piled on their ships and burned, and for a moment everyone found themselves just a little bit of peace.
To assume this was the final attack would be foolish. A group of leaders from the Supernatural heroes met with Metrodora and Agni, as well as some of the elder Phoe who had taken roost on Fenikso. There was no questioning who this Island belonged to; a quick fly over in a winged form would show the shape that Fenikso had taken. Anyone who could sense magic could feel the very life that pulsed through the ash that mingled with the dirt and pressed life into it. The Order was quick to assure the Phoenix that they would respect their creation and their rule over the Island... but they were also eager to lay their roots here. They could offer protection in exchange for a place here, where their people could be safe and thrive alongside the Phoenix.
The Order evolved into The Order of the Keepers, a group of supernatural who swore an oath to remain on the Island and be it's first line of defense. While wary at first, the Phoenix came to trust the Keepers and work together with them. The first villages were established on Fenikso, and for a while peace reigned supreme. This wasn't to say that everyone always got along, of course. Territory disputes were had, rules were established. The mainland was still necessary for many things, but slowly the Island became something sustainable for it's new population as well.
Further attacks came and passed. Over the years the population grew and thrived. Metrodora's clutch hatched. From the blue egg came a matching Phoenix. The golden egg hatched a set of twins, each unique in their own way and yet crucial to one another. An egg had not hatched in a few centuries, and so the very first Festival of Birth took place. The Island celebrated their newest community members, and the Order of the Keepers began laying plans for a stronger line of defense to further protect what they were building here.
Bonds began to form. Phoenix and Keepers found their souls entwining together; their natural power working together in a seemless balance. The first barriers went up. Metrodora's brood found themselves drawn to three young witches, who's souls would bond and form something beautiful. The Island was a seemless effort of coexisting species all vying for survival, creating a common goal and protecting one another.
And then the Island started to crumble.
It was not all at once; cliffs begin to swirl away into ash on the wind, sinkholes forming. Metrodora yet again saw her roost in grave danger despite her best efforts to create something perfect. She had been through so many cycles, as had the rest of the remaining species, but there were simply not enough of them anymore to keep the Island alive as they once had. Something had to be done, or they would all have to return to the mainland where danger was around every corner.
The Order of the Keepers and the First Pair found their way to the place where Metrodora had started all of this. Metrodora and Agni leant their magic to the witches among them, and through a lengthy ritual molded together into their Final Fire. They became the very core of the Island, sinking into it and breathing life once more into the land. Their sacrifice held off further deterioration. This core would be an everlasting fire, the final rest of the matron and patron of the Island. Metrodora's Meadow blossomed and thrived, providing her kin and the inhabitants with one last gift. However, even this sacrifice alone was not enough. The twins and their soul-bound counterparts would later join Metrodora and Agni through the same process, burning not nearly so hot as the two and joining them within the Island as secondary cores. For decades, no one could approach this place on the Island. The heat there was enough to scorch anything that surrounded it, and would kill even a fire Phoenix if they got too close.
Eventually, the Island began to fall into disrepair once more. The Sacrificial Grounds began to cool. A hundred years after their sacrifice, two new twins would appear from the ash in the ground. They were not the four that went in, but creations of each soul bond formed into something fresh and new. They were a species all on their own, something still Phoenix and yet unique all together. The Keepers remained in tact alongside their Phoenix counterparts, and a better understanding of The Sacrifice was developed. Every one hundred years, the lesser cores would burn out, and two new sacrifices would need to be made. For the Phoenix species, this was seen as a high honor. They would be born again in a new way, after joining Metrodora and Agni in their quest to make the Island sustainable. For the Keepers, this was more a choice, but one they stepped into with the hope that their sacrifice would mean something in the long run. And for many, many centuries, the Island thrived on this cycle.
It's been well over a hundred years since the last sacrifice. The Keepers and this bit of history feel more like a legend now. Surely that's all it is... right?
Is our Island really on the brink of destruction?
