"Pyra's... back." The words left Cinder's lips in a tone bordering on reverence, her golden eyes fixed on the naked, bewildered figure at the center of their tangled hug. She gingerly reached out a hand and lightly pinched Pyra's cheek, her expression still taut with disbelief.

  "Ow—hey!" Pyra yelped, recoiling from the pinch. She rubbed at her cheek, eyes narrowing in playful indignation. "If you're going to doubt I'm real, why not just smack me in the face and get it over with?" She tilted her head, considering. "Actually, I might enjoy that. Beats being disintegrated into cosmic dust."

  Ember shook her head, a smile growing on her lips despite the weight of their circumstance. "Of course you'd make light of it, you insufferable goof."

  Kindle, having extracted herself from the huddle with all the grace of a newborn deer, propped herself up on her elbows and cocked her head. "She does have a point though. How do we know she's the genuine article?"

  Without missing a beat, Pyra launched into her counterargument. "Oh, I can prove it alright. You see, the first time I woke up beside Ash, I discovered she drools in her sleep." She punctuated her declaration with a click of her tongue, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, there you have it."

  "I most certainly do not drool!" Ash interjected defensively, her usually calm demeanor ruffled by the accusation. "That is a blatant exaggeration."

  Pyra's smile broadened. "Ah, but you do occasionally snore, and we forgave you because they're the cutest little snores known to womankind."

  Cinder cleared her throat. "The real Pyra, ladies and gentlemen." She couldn't stop a hint of affection from creeping into her voice.

  Still sprawled out, Pyra replied with an unrepentant grin. "In the flesh. Seriously, though, why am I naked? This is like a cosmic joke, and I'm not laughing."

  Ember pushed herself off the ground, dusting off her hands. "That's... not an easy question to answer. How much do you remember?"

  Pyra sat up, crossing her legs nonchalantly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Disintegrated in a blaze of glory, merged with my sister-selves for an epic power-up, faded into the ether... and now I'm here, chatting with you while in my birthday suit." She threw a jaunty salute, heedless of her exposed state. "How's your day been?"

  Despite the undercurrent of tension, Ember couldn't help but smile. "Unexpected. We're still wrapping our heads around it all."

  "You and me both. By the way," Pyra glanced down at herself. "Can we address the clothing situation? As much as I enjoy the breeze, it's starting to get chilly." She gestured vaguely towards her nether regions with a nod. "Also, the ground here is not friendly to delicate lady parts."

  Ash retrieved a spare set of clothing from their meager supplies. She tossed it to Pyra, who caught it with one hand.

  "You're a lifesaver, Ash." Pyra rose and began dressing, eschewing any pretense of modesty.

  "So, does anyone have any idea about what just happened?" Kindle asked, watching Pyra shimmy into her pants. "Did we just resurrect her with the power of sisterly love?"

  "I think we burned away the excess magical energy we absorbed from Pyra when she merged with us," Ash replied, tapping her temple pensively. "It seems that releasing all that pent-up energy somehow... reconstituted her."

  Pyra shrugged on her tunic. "So I'm like a phoenix reborn from the ashes?"

  "Something like that," Ash confirmed. "Perhaps the merging process was less destructive than we thought. Your physical form might have been... distributed amongst us, rather than erased."

  Pyra glanced over her shoulder. "So I was literally a part of you this whole time, huh?" A sly grin crept across her lips. "Hey, any chance you guys got up to anything naughty while I was living rent-free inside you? Maybe a midnight snack run that got a bit steamy?"

  Ember shot a withering look in Pyra's direction. "Focus, Pyra."

  Cinder crossed her arms. "Speaking of focusing, we need to get back to the caravan. It won't be long before someone comes looking for us."

  "You're right," Ember conceded, glancing back towards the camp. "We can figure out the details later."

  "Details, shmetails." Pyra flashed a wide smile, tying off the last knot on her boot. "The important thing is I'm back! Let's hit the road."

  Ember wrapped an arm around Pyra's shoulder as they began their trek back to the caravan. "You're impossible," she said, her voice laced with fond exasperation, "and I couldn't be happier you're back."

  Pyra gave her a mock salute. "Me too, Em, me too. The world needs a little more Pyra in it. Like salt in a recipe—it adds depth, flavor, and keeps everything regular."

  Marta blinked as she stared at Pyra, then at the other women, and back again, her brow furrowing as the wrinkles around her eyes deepened.

  "And now there's five of you again," she said flatly, her tone implying questions that remained unspoken.

  "You missed me, admit it," Pyra said with a cheeky grin. She threw an arm over the caravan leader's shoulders. "But I'm back, so rejoice!"

  Marta shrugged off the arm with an irritable huff, her gaze still sharp. "Your kind don't stay dead, I take it?"

  "More like temporarily misplaced," Pyra replied, completely unfazed. She bounced on her toes, flame-orange hair catching the twilight in ways that made it look alive. "One minute I'm fighting crystal snake monsters, next I'm part of an impromptu family reunion. Life's funny that way."

  Marta's weathered hand moved to the protective amulet at her belt—a gesture they'd come to recognize as her default response to their otherworldly strangeness.

  "You said she died in the Shimmerwood."

  "We said her physical form dissipated," Ember corrected gently. "We never claimed permanent death."

  "Splitting hairs," Marta muttered, but there was a grudging acknowledgment in her tone. She eyed Pyra like one might watch a houseplant that had suddenly sprouted legs. "So now there are five again. And I suppose that explains your mysterious disappearance just now?"

  "Cultural practice," Ash interjected with her typical deadpan delivery. "Pyra's return is considered a sacred event and requires ritual seclusion. It would be tantamount to blasphemy to involve outsiders in our rites."

  Marta seemed about to push the issue when Malik approached, his steps faltering as he spotted Pyra among them. His face cycled through a fascinating array of expressions—shock, disbelief, and what might've been relief—before settling on something like bemusement.

  "You've returned," he said simply, tilting his head as if that would somehow rearrange reality into a shape that made sense. When it didn't, he ran a hand through his hair, his usual charm giving way to befuddlement. "I thought..."

  "That I was dead?" Pyra finished for him, crossing her arms as her chin jutted out belligerently. "Hey, newsflash, tough guy, I'm not your archery buddy's sister. Takes more than a little... whatever happened to finish me off."

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "Fascinating," Malik said slowly, a new glint of intrigue in his eye. "Truly fascinating. I've heard legends of phoenixes and rebirth, but never witnessed..."

  "Don't romanticize it," Marta cut in sharply. "Whatever these women are, they're not here for your ballads." She turned back to the five, her gaze hard with decisions clearly being made. "We move out in ten minutes. Be ready. And try not to... multiply further before we reach Amaranth."

  With that, she strode away, muttering what sounded like prayers for protection under her breath.

  "Well," Pyra declared once Marta was out of earshot, "she's definitely warming up to us."

  "Like ice warms to fire," Cinder replied with a snort.

  Malik lingered, his eyes fixed on Pyra. "Your... return... it violates several fundamental principles of life and death."

  "We're rule-breakers," Pyra replied with a shrug. "It's kind of our thing."

  The bard's fingers tapped a nervous rhythm against his thigh. "The Mnemosynes would find your condition even more compelling now. A consciousness that can reappear after apparent dissolution..." He trailed off, his mind clearly working through the implications.

  "You said they study memory and perception, right?" Ember asked, seizing the opportunity to redirect the conversation away from Pyra's miraculous return.

  Malik nodded, his gaze still thoughtful. "Yes, their archives contain knowledge the Magisterium considers too...unorthodox for general access. If anyone would understand your unique nature, it would be them."

  "Great. Now, if you'll excuse us," Cinder said, motioning for the other women to gather, "we have sisterly catching-up to do."

  "Of course," Malik replied, his posture indicating he wished to stay, but propriety pulled his feet back a step. With a last, lingering glance at Pyra, he turned away. "I'm truly glad you've returned, Pyra."

  Pyra waved a nonchalant hand. "Thanks, hottie! I'm a fan of being back, too."

  With that, he disappeared into the throng of merchants and caravan guards making last-minute preparations. In the distance, Marta's voice carried across the campsite, rallying her crew for the final push to Amaranth.

  As they walked back to the Briny Chariot, Pyra bounded between them like an overexcited puppy, touching each sister-self in turn. "Are we sure I'm not a ghost? Because I feel kinda ghostly right now."

  "You're definitely corporeal," Ember assured her, still marveling at the warmth under her palm when she returned Pyra's touch. She had to resist the urge to pinch the girl again, just to be sure.

  "So, can you tell us about the merging?" Kindle asked. "What was it like being a part of us?"

  Pyra paused, a look of concentration wrinkling her brow. "It's hard to describe... It's like a dream where everything's blurred at the edges. But there were moments, flashes—little snapshots of things you saw and felt. Then... nothing. Until I was suddenly on the ground, all five of you standing around me like I'd grown a second head." She made a 'boom' gesture with her hands. "Phoenix reborn!"

  "Remarkable," Ash murmured, her eyes never leaving Pyra's face. "An evolutionary trait allowing the redistribution and recombination of your essence... the theory is sound, but the execution is unprecedented."

  Cinder grunted in agreement. "Here's hoping you can pull a phoenix act if things go sideways in Amaranth."

  Pyra sprawled across the barrels, apparently unbothered by their pickle-scented emanations. "So, important question—did any of you do anything embarrassing while possessed by my essence? Like, I don't know, spontaneous cartwheels? Inappropriate jokes? Random dance outbursts?"

  "I may have flipped off a magical tree," Cinder admitted reluctantly.

  "And I giggled. Multiple times," Ash added, sounding personally offended by this breach of character.

  "I perfected your cartwheel technique," Kindle offered brightly.

  "And I executed a rather flamboyant dropkick on a bandit," Ember concluded. "It was... unnecessarily theatrical."

  Pyra's face lit up with delight. "This is amazing! My influence made you all approximately twenty percent cooler. You're welcome."

  "Twenty percent more chaotic, you mean," Cinder corrected, though without real heat. "Though I'll admit, your... absence... made us realize a few things."

  "Oh?" Pyra raised an eyebrow, somehow making the simple gesture theatrical. "Do tell."

  "The curse may be more flexible than we thought," Ember explained as their wagon rumbled along the darkening road. "When you merged with us, we didn't experience the agony Nyx warned would happen with fewer than five selves."

  "Until about twelve hours later," Kindle chimed in. "Then the headaches started."

  "Which suggests," Ash continued, smoke curling thoughtfully around her fingers, "a period of grace—approximately twelve hours during which four vessels can comfortably contain five essences before pressure builds to unsustainable levels."

  Pyra whistled. "So we've found a loophole in Nyx's terms and conditions? Nice."

  "More like we've discovered there are parameters we didn't understand," Ember clarified. "And if we can temporarily exist as four..."

  "Could we eventually merge completely?" Pyra finished, catching on immediately. "Go back to being just Abigail?"

  "Potentially," Ash nodded. "Though such a path would require careful experimentation and greater understanding of the underlying magical principles."

  "Which is why finding these Mnemosynes might be crucial," Cinder added. "If they know distributed consciousness..."

  "They might help us reverse-engineer this whole mess," Pyra concluded. She flopped back among the barrels, staring up at the star-scattered sky. "Wow. When I disintegrated, I figured that was it—game over, thanks for playing. I didn't expect to come back to actual hope."

  "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Ember cautioned, ever the pragmatist. "This is all theoretical. We have no idea if further merging is possible, or what the consequences might be."

  "Spoken like a true killjoy," Pyra teased, though her tone held no malice. "But fair point. Baby steps first. Like figuring out exactly how we managed to pull me out of your collective unconscious and back into physical form."

  "The excess energy built up over approximately twelve hours," Ash mused. "When released simultaneously through our flames, it coalesced into your physical form rather than dispersing."

  "But was that because we focused it, or a natural consequence of the energy itself?" Ember wondered.

  "Could just be my magnetic personality," Pyra suggested with a grin. "I'm literally too chaotic to stay dead."

  The conversation spiraled into theories and speculations as their wagon rumbled northward. Around them, the landscape gradually changed—wild grasslands giving way to cultivated fields, untamed forests yielding to managed woodlots.

  Signs of civilization became more frequent: stone fences outlining property boundaries, small farmhouses with glowing windows, the occasional roadside shrine dedicated to local deities.

  Overhead, the three moons climbed higher, casting their silvery light across a road now paved with fitted stones rather than packed earth—a clear indication of their approach to Amaranth's sphere of influence.

  The air itself seemed different, carrying hints of unfamiliar spices, smoke, and the indefinable scent of many people living in close proximity.

  Marta called a brief halt at a crossroads marked by a tall stone pillar carved with directional indicators. Guards conferred, checking their bearings against star positions and making final preparations for their arrival.

  "Another hour at most," Malik informed them, appearing beside their wagon with his uncanny knack for materializing whenever conversation turned interesting. "We'll approach from the south gate—less scrutiny than the main entrance, especially after dark."

  "So we should expect scrutiny?" Ember asked, her protective instincts flaring.

  Malik's expression grew serious. "Amaranth takes security seriously. The Magisterium enforces strict regulations on magical practitioners entering the city. Most visitors undergo a basic assessment—nothing invasive, merely a classification ritual."

  "And how would they classify us, exactly?" Cinder asked, her voice flat with suspicion.

  The bard hesitated, clearly weighing his words. "That... might present complications. The Magisterium's classification system is rather rigid. Fire mages are expected to fall into established categories with known limitations."

  "Let me guess," Pyra interjected with cheerful sarcasm, "none of those categories include 'five bodies sharing one consciousness with the ability to merge and unmerge at will'?"

  "Not as such, no," Malik admitted.

  "Great," Cinder muttered. "So we'll immediately flag as anomalies."

  "Not necessarily," Malik countered, his fingers tapping a thoughtful rhythm against his thigh. "If you present yourselves as simple travelers—sisters with modest fire talents seeking the city's attractions—you might pass initial inspection without raising alarms."

  "You want us to downplay our abilities," Ember stated, understanding immediately.

  "Precisely. Save the... dramatic displays... for circumstances that truly warrant them."

  Pyra sighed theatrically. "Fine, I'll try not to resurrect from the dead again. At least not in public."

  Malik's lips twitched despite himself. "I would consider that a prudent restraint, yes."

  The caravan resumed its journey, now following a broad, well-maintained road that curved gently toward a distant glow on the horizon—Amaranth, city of magic and mystery, home to the Magisterium and, hopefully, answers to questions they barely knew how to ask.