after I’d discovered that I was a Moon Wolf because Phoenixes had a lot of strange gifts too and I couldn’t find much on my own kind to study. But Faerial had done something so stupid that I seriously had to question the sanity of the people who still hailed him as one of the greatest Fae of all time. He’d taken a trip to the mortal world using stardust and had travelled around, seeking out the myths and legends that the mortals believed were true about Phoenixes before coming back to the Fae realm and trying to find evidence of them being correct.
He’d dedicated ten years of his life to trying to prove that Phoenix tears could heal anything, especially wounds that no other healing magic could combat or fatal Fae illnesses no healer could fix. But he was wrong. Fuck knows how much crying he did and how many desperate fuckers had to drink his tears/have them sprinkled over them/dance in them and countless other nonsense he attempted, but eventually he had to admit that they were just tears. No miracles included. At which point I would have assumed that he’d have just accepted that mortals really had no fucking idea what they were talking about when it came to Fae powers, but of course he didn’t.
He became obsessed with the idea that he could become immortal, believing wholeheartedly that he could be reborn in flames. So, after years of study and theories and tests, Faerial the Great summoned a court of over five hundred people to come and watch him die and be reborn. He cast a huge pyre of Phoenix flames and then stood beside them and thrust a sun steel blade straight into his own heart. Well, he died alright. And then he fell back into the flames which he had been certain would give him life again…and they burned his body to a crisp. Turns out dead Phoenixes could burn and everything. It was lamented as this tragic loss in the name of science, but all it said to me was that he had been fruit loop crazy and wanted to believe in fairy tales way too much. There wasn’t some magic cure to death even in a world with magic and even if you happened to be a badass Phoenix. It sucked, but life was a bitch and there were no easy ways out, I’d learned that the hard way.
That said, so far the Stick of Truth had been getting some truly tedious truths out of my fellow inmates so perhaps there was some merit to the magic it held regardless of its dubious history. I guessed he did get some stuff right before he went off his rocker.
"It just really put me back to how I felt as a kid, you know?" Sparkle said, her eyes welling with glittery tears as she looked Mrs Gambol dead in the eye.
It was hot in this room and Sparkle had opted to tie her jumpsuit arms around her waist, revealing her colourful arm tattoos to the room at large and I snorted a laugh as I spotted one of a naked dude with curly blonde hair, bending over while a pink Pegasus drove its horn up his asshole and he gripped his hard cock with a look of ecstasy on his face. The words Horny for the Horn were painted beneath it in rainbow coloured lettering and I had to wonder what Caleb Altair would have thought of it if he'd seen it and laughed louder before I could stop myself.
All eyes in the room swivelled to me and it took me a moment to realise that I'd clearly laughed at a bad moment in Sparkle’s story.
"What?" I asked, glancing at Mrs Gambol.
"Bed wetting is a perfectly normal thing to experience in stressful conditions. And these sessions are supposed to be a safe space for our members to speak freely about their experiences," she chastised.
"Sparkle's wetting the bed?" I asked, choking back another laugh as I turned my eyes on the Pegasus in question.
"I was relaying a story about my childhood," she snapped, chomping her teeth at me. "Not discussing how I wet the bed now."
"Were you building up to discussing that then?" I asked, raising my brows as I less than subtly cast a look at her crotch to check for wet patches. "Because I didn't mean to interrupt."
"That was one time!" Sparkle yelled, stomping her foot before gasping in horror at what she'd