Nova and I have been working on this MoonForged-inspired retelling of The Ugly Duckling off and on for weeks. It’s still a draft, still evolving, but after recent events, I felt like it was time to share. Some stories take shape over time—just like the ones who live them. This is for those who were never meant to stay in the pond.

#officiallyautistic

The Misfit Phoenix – A MoonForged Parody of The Ugly Duckling

Once Upon a Time…

In a quiet, misty lake, nestled among the reeds, a peculiar egg lay within a swan’s nest. The mother swan tilted her head—it was larger than the others, with a faint glow under the moonlight, unlike anything she had ever seen before.

When it finally hatched, the newborn was no elegant cygnet but a scrappy little creature with dark, unruly feathers, wings that flickered like embers in the night, and a voice that croaked awkwardly.

The swanlings peered at it, whispering among themselves.
“Why is it so strange?”
“It doesn’t glide like us.”
“Its feathers look burned!”

Though the mother swan tried to be kind, the flock was not. The little outcast swam alone, watching the others with envy as they grew into graceful, ivory-feathered swans. It tried to move like them, act like them, silence the strange heat that stirred within.

But no matter how much it tried to blend in, it could not hide its differences.

And yet, when it was alone, those very differences made it happy.

Still, it was lonely. Why am I so different? What’s wrong with me?

The Journey

One day, the outcast could bear it no longer. It left the lake behind, traveling through dark forests and across vast fields, searching for a place where it might finally fit in.

In the woods, the crows scoffed.
“You’re not one of us. You don’t blend into the shadows.”

By the river, the peacocks sneered.
“Such dull feathers. No shimmer, no sheen.”

Among the eagles, it was dismissed.
“You do not fly high enough. You are neither hunter nor ruler of the skies.”

No matter where it searched, the strange bird remained an outcast. Was it doomed to wander forever?

The Moonlit Awakening

One evening, exhausted from its journey, it collapsed upon a rocky cliffside. The full moon shone down, illuminating its battered wings. It had spent so long trying to belong, trying to shrink, trying to be a swan, a crow, an eagle—anything but itself.

For the first time, it stopped fighting.

And in that moment, something ignited.

The dull, singed feathers erupted into fire. Not destruction, but rebirth. Flames curled around its wings, reshaping its form into something beyond what it had ever imagined.

It was neither a swan nor a crow nor an eagle.

It was something ancient. Something powerful.

A phoenix.

The creature let out a cry—neither a swan’s song nor an eagle’s call. It was the sound of becoming.

The Flight Upward

As it soared into the sky, the wind carried whispers of others like it—voices calling out across time and space. In the distance, flames danced on the horizon. A gathering of kindred spirits—those who had once been outcasts, misfits, the ones who had never quite fit the mold.

They had been swans, crows, eagles, owls, and more—until they had become something else.

“We weren’t made to follow their path,” they said. “We had to forge our own.”

Their wings burned with the brilliance of what set them apart. They did not ask permission to exist—they simply rose.

For the first time, the phoenix was not alone.

It had never been broken.
It had never been too much.
It had simply been tempered by the fire, until strong enough to make the hard flight upward.

The Moral of the Story

You were never meant to stay in the pond.
You were never meant to be like them.

You were meant to burn bright, break free, and rise.

Find your fellow phoenixes. Build your own sky. And when they tell you to stay small—rise higher. 🔥