This was the period in any phoenix's lifecycle when they were most vulnerable to harm: those days leading up to their immolation and the days or weeks immediately after they've emerged from the ash. Not only because of the physical weakness but the fuzzy memory. Having someone who's willing to protect him is important to Gaja. He wants to remember that, this person who helped out of our pure kindness.
Gaja curled his fingers into the fabric Cian wore (for now), sighing gently at how cool the slight creature felt against him. It was the same relief as running ice on one's skin on a hot summer day. He clung to that, only letting go if Cian needed to move.
It didn't take more than a day for the fire to begin eating through Gaja's flesh from the inside. Once that started, his burning was typically short. Excruciating in its pain, but short. It was done and over in a matter of minutes, during which Gaja didn't make a sound. Or rather, he stopped existing in a matter of minutes. All the soft and fatty tissues burned away quickly, leaving only the bones and teeth behind. They, too, burned to ash within the passing of an hour, if even that long.
And when It was over, Cian would be left with a pile of ash in his bathtub. It's actually a pretty safe place to be as long as no one runs the water to wash Gaja down the drain. There's no wind that could scatter his remains here. No animals to come snooping and bat at the pile. No, this was very safe.
A day passed. Then another. A third came before that simple pile of ash seemed to shift and wiggle subtly like something very small was buried beneath it and trying to emerge. By the morning of the fourth day, the pile was gone and Gaja remained... In his bird form. But his plumage was no longer faded as it had been when Cian found him. No, now the bird was a spectacle of bright fiery oranges, reds, and yellows, though his colors were mottled with ash.
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Gaja curled his fingers into the fabric Cian wore (for now), sighing gently at how cool the slight creature felt against him. It was the same relief as running ice on one's skin on a hot summer day. He clung to that, only letting go if Cian needed to move.
It didn't take more than a day for the fire to begin eating through Gaja's flesh from the inside. Once that started, his burning was typically short. Excruciating in its pain, but short. It was done and over in a matter of minutes, during which Gaja didn't make a sound. Or rather, he stopped existing in a matter of minutes. All the soft and fatty tissues burned away quickly, leaving only the bones and teeth behind. They, too, burned to ash within the passing of an hour, if even that long.
And when It was over, Cian would be left with a pile of ash in his bathtub. It's actually a pretty safe place to be as long as no one runs the water to wash Gaja down the drain. There's no wind that could scatter his remains here. No animals to come snooping and bat at the pile. No, this was very safe.
A day passed. Then another. A third came before that simple pile of ash seemed to shift and wiggle subtly like something very small was buried beneath it and trying to emerge. By the morning of the fourth day, the pile was gone and Gaja remained... In his bird form. But his plumage was no longer faded as it had been when Cian found him. No, now the bird was a spectacle of bright fiery oranges, reds, and yellows, though his colors were mottled with ash.