IT'S LIKE THE DARKNESS IS THE LIGHT ♠ private

Just like that, the task had been done. The black rabbit watched from the shadows with a placid expression. She had witnessed death enough for it to no longer faze or startle her. It was just a part of life, really. Everything died, and fortunately for this individual, it would not be permanent. Such was the blessing of the phoenix, and that was precisely what she wanted to research. Was there any way to bring back humans or demi-humans in a similar fashion? Perhaps with enough magic and use of the phoenix powers, it could be possible.

As soon as he fell, the magical spike disappeared. He was reduced to the form of a beautiful obsidian egg. She hopped slowly forward from the shadows, silently returning back to her true form of a young woman with blonde hair. Carrying a cloth that would keep her from getting burned, in case the egg was hot, Inglisse gently scooped up the small thing and wrapped it in the cloth while she collected his dropped belongings. The Arkanian ice flower certainly would be a nice reward for her efforts, or at least worth selling back to earn money for the food she would need to provide for him.

Once the collecting was finished, the girl activated another spell-- one that would whisk her and whatever she was holding back to her laboratory in the large basement of the witch’s shop. She had used a one time only anchoring spell that would teleport her from the alleyway to her second home without a trace. Within seconds, she was in the dim-lit area that was her lab. It was not anything special-- a concrete floor, magical “enclosures” for various abominations, a few surgical tables in certain rooms, and plenty of shelves lines with ingredients.

Within a cage-like area, the blonde laid the egg on a study and soft pillow-- prepared just for the avian; how nice of her. The bars of the cage appeared to be made of crystallized magic, with no door. The creator of the magic could walk in and out of the magical cage, but no other living being was getting in or out, unless the cage mechanically faltered. Hopefully, a simple phoenix would not be able to do that.

Once he was secured in his new home and enclosure, Inglisse took a seat on a tall stool at a desk next to the cage. Her Book of Baskerville was open to a page halfway filled with notes. Her pen scribbled down below it, beginning to document the death of the phoenix and the egg. She had put some clothes in the enclosure, but no food yet. That would have to be earned once he hatched and answered some questions.

How interesting-- he had hatched in human form, not in his avian form. The tiny human body rapidly aged in a strange manner, that even Inglisse noted as strange. Fascinated, she scribbled down notes on what she was witnessing as he few to the form he had been in upon his death. Fortunately, he was quick to pull on clothing as soon as he reached his full size. For someone newly reborn, he certainly was quick and energetic. “How did that rebirth trial go?” she asked, curious as to what they were like. It was not possible for another species to see or experience one. All they had to go on was testimony. Still, she guessed that making this one talk, and truthfully at that, was going to be a challenge. Hopefully enough fear at the beginning would open him up, however. Every individual was different.

“It isn’t immortality I’m after; you needn’t worry. Just answer my questions and do as I ask, and you should be fine,” the blonde answered, a soft smile on her face, masking her devious intentions. “What is your name?”

The girl quickly wrote down the information he had given her-- not in her special book, but on a separate sheet of paper. Notes of importance would be transferred to the book once she was almost done conducting her research. For this chapter of the book, she had a long way to go. There was much to be done with the phoenix. Despite the extra information given in a cheeky manner, she was grateful for it and also wrote it down. The more he had to volunteer, the smoother this would go.

“How many rebirth trials have you been through?” she asked, curious as to how many he had in his long lifetime. “And I care little for the beach myself, so no worries there,” she offered in response to his statement, deciding she might as well respond to what she could and have some chance of relaxing him by a fraction. It would make the other processes easier. “Tell me a little about yourself, past and present~” Just how much would he volunteer?

Inglisse observed the change in him with interest-- his reaction reminded her briefly of her own reactions whenever the past was brought up. At least it was rare for her, fortunately, and she had the ability to choose not to talk about it. This phoenix did not. Perhaps she could have felt a bit of sympathy for what had happened to him, but her days of sympathy were mostly over. He was a tool to her-- a necessity to further the Baskerville’s research. Nothing more.

The amount of deaths he had endured certainly was surprising. Even her book research on phoenixes did not allude to the sheer number this one had encountered. “Which war did you fight in; who were you prisoner to?” she asked, knowing that some personal details outside of scientific facts certainly were necessary for the sake of adequate research. “Also… you must be hungry. One hundred feathers, including some alular, covert, primary, secondary, and tertiary flight feathers, and you’ll receive dinner,” she stated matter of factly, the soft smile on her face never fading. If he could offer them himself and not force her to have to sedate or restrain then pluck him, it would be better for both of them, and potentially less painful for him. Fresh, unmolted phoenix feathers had a cost that added up very quickly. With a live specimen, she would have a nearly unlimited amount of feathers if she wanted.

The ancient war-- she knew of it from the history classes and books, but seldom looked into it beyond scientific background when needed. After all, the present mattered far more than the distant past. Arka had also been known for its violence and cruelty; she could hardly say she was surprised.

The hateful glare certainly was a change in pace. He assumed she was after money, which was cute considering she could create her own money with spells and charms. No, she needed the feathers for her own experimentation; however, he did not need to know that. She would allow him to assume whatever he liked on the matter. “Small parakeet birds have between two thousand and three thousand feathers on their tiny bodies. I’m sure a massive bird like you could spare a hundred feathers,” Inglisse stated, still smiling. Her hand wrote as she watched him transform to the shape of a large bird. She noted his plumage was black; contrasting from the bright colors of most phoenixes. “Why is it that your feathers are black?” she asked as he plucked, the feathers being drawn into a small “basket” of dark energy for safekeeping.

Drowning… very interesting indeed. The sheer number somehow correlated with the rebirths changing him to what she identified as nearly a moon phoenix if he had continued. She understood their lore, but witnessing and researching it with a live specimen was far different than reading a book. That gave her a couple ideas for the sake of her research.

Once all the feathers had been collected, Inglisse safely bundled them in a magical basket and set them on a shelf-- good for later use. “Nice try,” she said as he suggested he might not be the best for her research. On the contrary, he would be perfect. Off of another shelf, the girl grabbed a tray with a fairly fresh homemade meal-- something any student would have for dinner plus some: steak, broccoli, carrots, and rice. Naturally, she offered water and a plastic spork as well. Pushing it forward on the ground, the tray slid through the magical bars. Nothing was given to him that could be used as a tool or weapon, only the bare minimum of what he needed.

The routine would continue as such-- feathers, fire, or blood samples for food. Only, the food would contain small traces of abyssal energy, just for the sake of seeing how they would affect him, if at all.