As the Phoenix sang, her tune turned from
one of mourning to that of celebration. With each note of her song, Kaiser
Archeleus Imler slowly, and though wobbling terribly, got to his bare feet. Once
standing, Archel stared up at the brilliant fiery hues trailing after the
Phoenix. On an impulse, he held his scrawny arm out, fore- and middle fingers
extended. She swooped around his head, gently landing on his outstretched
fingers where she promptly ceased singing. Archel turned to the still kneeling
Celatrix, “um, could you please get up?”
“As you
command, Praeceptor Archel,” Celatrix Verna replied as she stood. The double
line of now silent, previously chanting, ministers followed her cue and also
rose.
“It’s not
really a command,” Archel mumbled.
“What, milord?”
she asked.
“Uh. Nothing,”
Archel said, absently stroking the Phoenix’s back. “What happens now?”
