firebird

by Bill Tiepelman

The Fluff of Wrath

A Feathered Menace is Born The villagers of Ember Hollow had many things to fear—rogue spells, mischievous sprites, the occasional fire-breathing goat (long story)—but nothing prepared them for the wrath of a particularly tiny, exceptionally furious ball of fluff. It began, as most catastrophes do, with an innocent mistake. Old Maeryn, the town’s eccentric herbalist, had discovered a peculiar egg nestled in the roots of a charred oak. Thinking it abandoned, she took it home, set it by the fire, and promptly forgot about it. That is, until it hatched. And oh, what a hatching it was. With a crack, a snap, and an explosion of embers, out popped a creature so ridiculously adorable it should have been illegal. But instead of soft peeps and wobbling steps, this fiery fledgling locked eyes with Maeryn, fluffed up its smoking feathers, and let out a shriek of pure, unfiltered rage. “What… in the blazes… are YOU?” Maeryn muttered, brushing soot from her apron. The chick’s eyes burned—literally—like twin molten suns, its expression that of a tiny overlord who had just discovered his empire was made of peasants. With an indignant chirp, it stomped forward, radiating a heat that singed Maeryn’s hem. She grabbed a wooden spoon and pointed it at the chick like a sword. “Now listen here, you little fire hazard,” she scolded. “I saved you, so you’d best drop the attitude.” The chick did not drop the attitude. If anything, it doubled down. It flared its wings (adorably useless), puffed out its chest (somehow even fluffier), and narrowed its smoldering eyes with all the menace of a pint-sized warlord. Then it sneezed. And set the curtains on fire. “Oh, fantastic.” Maeryn groaned as she grabbed a bucket. The fire was quickly extinguished, but the chick remained, unbothered, glaring at her with the silent fury of an emperor insulted by an unworthy subject. With a sigh, Maeryn folded her arms and stared back. “I suppose you need a name, don’t you?” she mused. “How about Ember?” The chick’s feathers flared brighter. It did not look impressed. “Ignis?” The chick let out a disgusted chirp. “Oh, for the love of—FINE. You tell me then.” The chick blinked. Its beak curled in the tiniest, most mischievous smirk. Then, with slow, deliberate menace, it hopped onto a wooden spoon, balanced itself like a feathered king upon his throne, and stared deep into Maeryn’s soul. “Blaze.” Maeryn’s jaw dropped. “Did you just—did you actually just name yourself? By the stars, what are you?” Blaze said nothing. He simply fluffed up, smirked again, and hopped off the spoon as if to say, You’ll find out soon enough. And that was the moment Maeryn realized she had made a terrible mistake. The Reign of Blaze It didn’t take long for the villagers to realize something was… different about Maeryn’s new ‘pet.’ For one, Blaze had opinions. Strong ones. And he expressed them with fire. The baker learned this the hard way when he refused to give Blaze an extra pastry. A perfectly golden croissant was exchanged for a pile of ashes. The town’s blacksmith, a burly man with the patience of a saint, tried to “train” Blaze into behaving. Blaze responded by perching on his anvil and making every single horseshoe he forged mysteriously melt into puddles. And poor old Thom, who dared to call Blaze ‘cute,’ found himself inexplicably locked in his outhouse for three whole days. “That chick is pure chaos.” Thom declared once freed. Maeryn, now sporting singed eyebrows and an ever-present air of exhaustion, could only nod. “I’d give him away, but I think he’d just set my house on fire in revenge.” Meanwhile, Blaze was busy asserting his dominance. He had claimed a spot on the village fountain, where he would sit, fluffing and glaring, as if he were the self-appointed king of Ember Hollow. Passersby would cautiously nod in greeting, lest they incur his wrath. The mayor, in a last-ditch effort to regain control, even tried offering Blaze an “Official Town Mascot” title. Blaze listened. Considered. Then set the mayor’s hat on fire. Things only escalated from there. It started small—chamber pots mysteriously heating up, porridge bowls boiling over before anyone touched them. Then, Blaze discovered revenge. A woman who shooed him out of her garden woke up to find every vegetable in it roasted. A man who laughed at Blaze’s size found his boots melted to the cobblestone. By the time the villagers realized they were living under a tiny, flame-feathered tyrant, it was too late. Blaze had taken full control. “We have to do something!” one of the council members whispered at a secret meeting. “Like what?” another hissed. “He’s unstoppable! He sneezes, and half the town needs repairs!” “Then we outsmart him,” Maeryn declared. “He’s got power, but he’s also got an ego bigger than his body. We just have to make him think it’s his idea to leave.” And so, the next morning, the town gathered at the square, where Blaze sat atop his usual perch, peering down at them like an unimpressed deity. Maeryn stepped forward, clearing her throat. “Oh great and powerful Blaze,” she began, barely suppressing her sarcasm, “we have an honor to bestow upon you.” Blaze blinked, intrigued. “You, our glorious overlord, have clearly outgrown this humble village,” she continued. “Your power is too grand, your presence too mighty. It is time you take your rightful place in the Royal Palace.” Blaze tilted his head. Palace? “Yes, yes!” one of the council members jumped in. “A legendary place where great beings such as yourself are worshipped and given endless food.” Blaze ruffled his feathers, considering this. Worship? Endless food? A palace? He let out a smug little chirp. “We shall escort you there in glorious procession,” Maeryn said dramatically. “Immediately.” With that, they placed Blaze onto a velvet pillow, carried him to the grandest carriage in town, and—with a final chorus of exaggerated praises—sent him off to a castle many miles away, where he would definitely be someone else’s problem. The villagers watched as the carriage disappeared over the hills. Then, in unison, they exhaled. “Do you think he’ll actually make it to the palace?” Thom asked. Maeryn shook her head. “Oh, absolutely not. But that’s a future problem.” And with that, Ember Hollow was free. For now.     Bring the Wrath Home! 🔥 Blaze may have left Ember Hollow, but his fiery spirit lives on! Want to add some smoldering attitude to your space? Check out The Fluff of Wrath collection and take home this mischievous little tyrant in style: 🔥 Tapestry – Let Blaze loom over your kingdom (or living room) like the tiny overlord he is. 🔥 Canvas Print – Perfect for anyone who appreciates a side of attitude with their décor. 🔥 Tote Bag – Carry a little chaos with you wherever you go. Warning: May intimidate lesser bags. 🔥 Round Beach Towel – Because nothing says “don’t mess with me” like sunbathing with a furious fireball. 🔥 Throw Pillow – Soft, sassy, and slightly menacing. Just like Blaze. Get yours now and channel your inner firebird! 🔥🐤

by Bill Tiepelman

Rise of the Solar Phoenix

The world had forgotten the old ways. It had grown complacent beneath the artificial glow of its own creations, blind to the ancient cycles that governed existence. Empires had risen and fallen, but in their arrogance, the rulers of this age believed they would be the last. They built citadels of steel and glass, reaching toward the heavens, as if daring the cosmos to take notice. And the cosmos did. It began as a murmur—a tremor in the fabric of reality that only the oldest souls could sense. The sky, once an infinite vault of stars, grew restless. A shadow bled across the moon, swallowing its light, rendering the heavens a void deeper than night. The air grew thick with the scent of something ancient, something primal. The winds carried whispers from forgotten tongues, their syllables curling through the ruins of long-dead civilizations. Then, the first ember appeared. The Birth of the Inferno High above the desolate ocean, a spark flickered, impossibly small against the vastness of the sky. It pulsed, a rhythmic heartbeat against the silence, growing brighter with each passing moment. The clouds curled inward, drawn by its presence, dark tendrils of smoke swirling in chaotic formation. The ember swelled, expanding into a crackling orb of light. The heavens trembled as fire and shadow entwined, birthing something that had not graced this world in centuries. A single cry shattered the stillness—an unearthly sound that reverberated through bone and blood, echoing across continents. Then, with a blinding flash, the sky ignited. Wings of molten gold tore through the veil of night, unfurling in an explosion of fire and light. A shape emerged from the inferno, terrible and magnificent—feathers wreathed in celestial flame, armor adorned with the ruins of forgotten ages. The Solar Phoenix had returned. The Awakening In the depths of the ruined city of Ish’kar, the last of the Seers knelt before an altar carved from obsidian and bone. Their eyes, clouded with age and prophecy, widened as the vision unfolded before them. The Phoenix was not merely a creature—it was a force, a harbinger, a necessary cataclysm. "It is as the stones foretold," one of them whispered, voice barely audible over the rising winds. "The cycle has come full circle." From the highest tower, the remnants of humanity watched in silence. Their weapons, forged with the arrogance of technological supremacy, were useless against this celestial being. No steel, no war-machine, no scientific marvel could withstand what was to come. They had long since severed their ties to the ancient laws of balance, and now, balance would be restored by fire. The Phoenix spread its wings wide, the very air warping in response. With a single, mighty beat, it sent waves of fire cascading toward the earth, an inferno that swallowed the remnants of mankind’s greatest achievements. Towers crumbled, rivers evaporated, and the very land itself cracked open, spewing molten veins into the ruined streets. Between Destruction and Rebirth Yet, amidst the destruction, there was no malice. The Phoenix did not punish—it cleansed. In the wake of its flames, the ground did not wither but thrived. From the ashes of old structures, something new began to stir. Strange, iridescent vines slithered through the cracks of fallen monuments, curling around shattered statues and broken weapons. The land, long poisoned by war and greed, was healing. Deep within the heart of the inferno, the Phoenix’s eyes burned with cosmic wisdom. It had seen this cycle play out across countless worlds, countless civilizations. To resist change was to invite ruin. To embrace destruction was to invite rebirth. Visions of the Eternal Time ceased to hold meaning in the presence of the Solar Phoenix. The last of the Seers, those who had prepared for this moment, knelt in reverence before the creature, their spirits unshaken. As the flames danced around them, they saw visions—glimpses of what was to come. They saw the rebirth of the oceans, the return of lost rivers flowing with liquid silver. They saw forests of crystalline trees rising where once stood towers of glass and steel. They saw a people, unlike any who had walked this world before—beings born from fire and stardust, luminous and eternal. But they also saw the next fall. The next arrogance. The next age of forgetting. The Phoenix did not linger. It never did. Its purpose was fulfilled, its duty to the cosmic order complete. The Ascent As the first light of the new dawn kissed the horizon, the Phoenix turned its gaze skyward. The fire surrounding it flared, burning brighter than any star, until its form was indistinguishable from the sun itself. With a final, piercing cry, it ascended, leaving behind a world forever changed. For now. But one day, when the cycle reached its end again, when hubris eclipsed wisdom, and the land once more grew stagnant beneath the weight of its own excess—the Phoenix would rise again.     🔥 Bring the Legend Home 🔥 Experience the mesmerizing power of the Solar Phoenix with stunning, high-quality products featuring this breathtaking artwork. Whether you want to transform your space, carry its fire with you, or immerse yourself in its cosmic energy, we’ve got you covered: 🔥 Tapestry – Let the Phoenix blaze across your walls with this bold and vibrant textile piece. 🔥 Canvas Print – A museum-quality masterpiece capturing the essence of cosmic rebirth. 🔥 Phone Cases – Available for all phone types, encase your device in the fiery spirit of the Phoenix. 🔥 Beach Towel – Bask in celestial flames with a towel as bold as your spirit. Embrace the legend. Carry the fire. Witness the rebirth.