Once upon a time, there were three children: a feathered serpent hatchling, a draconic wolf pup, and a phoenix chick. Out of the three, the phoenix was the only one who preferred her human form over her beast form. For hundreds of years, they played under the ten suns during the day and slept under the ten moons at night. One day, the snake heard a human say that phoenixes could not cry. Curious, he asked her, and she said “I do not know, for I have never been sad enough to cry.” The next year, a human, greedy for the power of the sun’s, shot down nine of the fiery orbs. He absorbed their power and cast the empty husks aside, and with his newfound power became the hero of humanity. The snake was unable to handle the change in temperature and was forced into hibernation. His friends brought him to the core of the earth so that he would be warm enough to wake up. The wolf, furious at humanity for harming his friend, and enraged at the gods for protecting the humans, left one day. Upon his departure, he told the phoenix “I will make them return the suns to the sky, so that when Jor wakes up, he can play wherever he wants. If they refuse, I will fight them until they agree.”

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Thousands of years later, the serpent, Jormungandr, awoke. The phoenix had obtained authority over the cycle of reincarnation, worshipped by the humans as the god of death. He asked her, “Where is Fenrir?”

“I do not know,” she answered, her face downcast. After a moment of silence, she spoke again.

“I have learned that phoenixes can cry. However, the tears evaporate the moment they leave our eyes…”