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Brishen’s teeth ground together as he stared down at the body. They were long dead, the state of their soul unknown. He had only a limited number of hours before his absence was noted. They would notice the missing body sooner than they would notice that he was missing as well.
There were probably other means of obtaining the same result, Brishen reflected. Many dragels practiced the art of Caspering. And there were ghosts on Earth; considering the death had occurred there, things could go badly if the soul had stayed behind as a ghost. And, of course, if he knew more about the soul, traditional reincarnation could be an option.
But all of that would take too long.
And Harry deserved more.
He’d already lost too much.
The things he would do for Harry, he thought with a sigh. The lengths he would go to.
Brishen wouldn’t live this down for centuries, most likely.
The Phoelix sighed again and tipped the head of the body back, letting the jaw and mouth drop open. Then, Brishen tipped his own head back and recalled the necessary memories that never failed, memories of all that he had given up.
His family.
His society.
Even the very thing that made him Phoelix.
Brishen tipped his head forward and cried, tears dripping into the body’s open mouth.