THE WANDERER; layout in progressThe human brothers Prometheus and Epimetheus of Greece had angered the gods, most especially Zeus, the ruler of all the gods. Prometheus had stolen the fire from Hephaestus’s forge to give to humankind for warmth, and so as punishment for their lack of respect for their gods, Zeus decided to develop a cunning plan.With the help of Hephaestus, he fashioned a woman from clay. The goddess Athena respired life into the clay, Aphrodite made her very striking and Hermes imparted her how to be both charming and deceitful. Zeus called her Pandora and sent her as a gift to Epimetheus. Epimetheus accepted the gift against his brother’s warning and married Pandora. He was completely charmed by her and could not imagine Pandora harming anyone as she was so gracious and beautiful.For a wedding gift, Zeus gave Pandora a box, but told her that she should never open it. Pandora could not resist such temptation. She was a curious creature, and so one day she took the key and unlocked the box. Expecting some lavish treasure, she instead watched in horror as terrible evils flew from the box, as was Zeus's plan all along. Poverty, disease, misery, sadness, and death all came into the world. She shut the box, terrified of unleashing more evils. A voice inside the box still pleaded to be released.Epimetheus found her clutching the box and told her to open it again when she told him of the voice, for nothing worse could possibly come out then what had already been unleashed. Hesitantly, she opened the box. All that came fluttering out was hope which soothed the wounds left by the evils. Even though Pandora had given the world terrible evils, she had also let hope follow in their wake. Raised in a sheltered barn, young Pan has only known safety and warmth his entire life. He yearns for a place that makes him feel excitement for his existence, and that makes him feel like he belongs. With the earth and sky calling to him, he sets out on a journey like no other to discover the world and to learn about what it means to truly have a place to call his own.
Chapter 1: Enter Naruto Uzumaki What's His Name?His parents couldn’t name him.
It wasn’t without lack of trying. Both Norell and Falcon were proud parents of their young, handsome son. It was just…Norell and Falcon had very different ideas about their son’s future.
In their world, names held immense power. Names were like spells or curses to them: one name would do something bad while another would do something good. Names would decide a beings future and how they would act in their life. At least that was the belief.
Norell wanted to name her son after something beautiful and wise; something that held light in its claws and spat out courtesies from its jaws. Falcon was the exact opposite. He demanded his son be named after something strong and cunning; something that could survive in this strange world of curses and beasts.
Both parents fought, both parents pleaded and schemed, and ultimately both parents lost in the right to name their son, for someone was already on their way to claim that important role.
And he had an entirely different idea for their son’s future.
. . .“Here he comes.”
Both Norell and Falcon stood rigidly outside of their large rustic barn, its faded red roof filled with gaping holes and its rotting wood digesting in the stomachs of many invading termites. It was nothing splendid or luxurious, but it was home, and it was safe, and it was warm. It was all either of them could have hoped for, but at the moment, with a crowd of eager visitors coming to their door, both were cringing at letting so many see their run-of-the-mill abode.
Norell was more of the worrisome type when it came to such events. She could barely stand still, her toes twitching and her mint-green eyes darting from the approaching mass to her stone-like mate beside her. She was notorious for fidgeting, not just because of her paranoia, but because of her instinct to always be on the move, to always be doing something with mind and body. She had been dreading this day since the news was carried on the wind by fellow neighbors, for she knew that she would be mostly sitting and greeting; her most despised activity. She hoped to whatever deity could hear her that her son would not inherit such a maddening trait.
Falcon stood next to his mate like a rock would stand next to a stream. That is, if time were moving twice as fast. As by the basic laws of nature, water erodes all in its path, and that is exactly what Norell did to Falcon with her nervous ticks. He would stand poised and controlled, but the longer he felt Norell itching to be undertaking something, the more his stony exterior was smoothed away.
“Would you stop your retched fidgeting, Norell?” He growled from the corner of his mouth, not taking his fiery amber gaze away from the now defined crowd of cats.
Norell fluttered her tail back behind her in a graceful show of defiance, her pale tabby coat gleaming in the cloudless sunny sky. “Make me.”
“I wish I could,” Falcon parried back, his black fur bristling upon his broad shoulders, “but you are a deaf she-cat.”
“I only choose to be deaf to
you, Falcon,” she purred with a wicked gleam in her irises, raising one of her paws to her lips where she bit down on the soft outer pad. This was another of her quirks. She bit her paws whenever…well, there really was no pattern. She just did it. It showed whenever she lifted her legs, the numerous tiny bite marks scarring her front paws.
Falcon let out an exasperated breath of air, clenching his jaws as the first cats arrived.
As to be expected, all the visitors pretended to be excited to see Norell’s and Falcon’s new son, but they were truly there to see the guest of honor: Zale.
The crowd parted like clouds before sunlight as he stepped through, his charcoal pelt gleaming with health and vigor, his eyes like mirrors reflecting the endless blue sky. The air seemed to electrify when he came near, but it was subtle. Not enough to scare the onlookers. Beside him were two cats, a she-cat and a tom. The she-cat was tall and slender with a pale grey coat and white markings. Her eyes smoldered aquamarine, a truly astonishing color against her grey fur. Her male companion was shorter and younger with a simple tabby coat and white paws. His eyes were a calm lavender that oozed stillness.
Norell and Falcon dipped their heads as Zale approached. To them and to the crowd, he was the rod of their beliefs. He channeled the deities’ wishes and did his part as both leader and cursed to keep balance in their world.
“Father,” Norell murmured, raising her head to a gently smiling Zale who nodded to her.
“Norell,” he replied, “I am pleased that you and Falcon have honored me by letting me come. It is a great gift to have a son in these days of disease,” he purred kindly, his eyes taking note of Norell’s fidgeting and Falcon’s annoyance in one calm sweep.
The hills and the surrounding areas had recently experienced a serious drought which leached water supplies and spread famine among their food supplies. Along with meager food came a deadly disease that caused internal bleeding, vomiting, and bareness in she-cats. Norell was lucky to be one of the few in her area that surfaced from this time clean and unharmed. She could still birth kits, and this was evident in their now breathing son.
“It is you who honor us, Father.” Falcon spoke with careful and precise tones. He had always been wary and skeptic of the cursed; an unpopular feeling among his brethren.
Zale dipped his head, and then raised his eyes to look over the parent’s heads at their barn. “May I see him?”
Norell and Falcon shared a brief glance, and then Norell stood without a word and slipped in between a crack in the barn door. She was grateful for the chance to move around and escape from the prying eyes of so many onlookers.
A few moments later she hesitantly squeezed back through the crack with a large, fluffy bundle of pale sandy fur. Her son was yawning, his surprisingly large jaws gaping, showing off his tiny needle teeth. He much resembled a longer-haired version of a lion if he already had his mane. The only thing that was different were the light tabby stripes wrapped around his legs, tail, and face.
Sounds of appreciation rumbled in the gathered crowd of neighbors and travelers, their eyes softening at the sight of the young tom. He was truly a thing to behold. He was strong, healthy, and quite handsome. Not to mention he was already bigger than most kits his age.
Norell gently placed him in the long green grass, the tips of the blades tickling her son’s nose and ears, causing him to squirm and cry out, bating at the grass with clumsy paws.
Zale purred, his blue eyes brightening like the sun breaking out of the clouds after a storm. It was as if he was seeing his own son, but everyone knew this is how he looked with every new kit he saw. He was the protector of them all, and every kit was treated as his own. It was truly an astonishing honor though, for a kit to receive the direct gaze of the cursed king.
“Does he have a name?” He inquired, lowering himself to the ground to take a closer look at their son who was now preoccupied with a pebble next to the wall of the barn.
Falcon shook his head, his intense gaze flicking to Norell. “No, father. We have not come to an agreement on a name.”
Zale became thoughtful, his eyes narrowing as he observed the handsome young kit from a respectful distance. The kit was starting to notice he had become the center of attention, and he was eating it up. He rolled playfully in the grass, and mewled sporadically when he tripped and his belly went skyward, eliciting cries of humor and joy from the crowd. With every new face he saw, he took pause and meticulously noted it. He was quite the curious one, even being so brave as to pounce on an older she-cat’s tail that had been broken in the middle, eagerly examining the bent appendage.
Zale called to the young tom, watching closely as the kit turned his attention to him and let the sun shine into his eyes. Zale was careful to drop a mask when he saw the multi-colored irises of the kit: mint-green, watery blue, and fiery amber chips.
“Might I suggest a name?” Zale said casually, not taking his eyes away from the charming tom.
Norell and Falcon’s eyes both widened at the same time, their expressions now finally equal and their thoughts both in tune and instantly astonished. What an honor it would be to have their son named by the protector of the realms; speaker of Father Earth and Mother Sky.
“Of-of course, Father!” Norell stammered, her mint-green eyes wide and expectant. She hoped that Zale would name her son something beautiful to match his thick fur and mesmerizing eyes.
Falcon nodded, his voice mute and shocked into silence. He dared hope that this cursed cat would give his son a strong name to match his apparent health and size.
Zale stood tall, casting his shadow over their son who gazed up at the Father with round curious eyes. With practiced ease, Zale scooped up dry dirt from the ground and smeared it across the young tom’s forehead with his outer pad, a faint glint of emotion in his sky blue eyes.
“You remind me of a story I was told long ago from a traveler who ventured into the heart of the human cities,” Zale began, letting his paw linger on the kit’s head. “This tale told of an angry god who sought to bring punishment upon those that had betrayed and disrespected him and his kind.”
His voice carried over the grass as it whistled past his legs, whipping his dark fur back against his skin. The onlookers murmured as the wind picked up and lashed at their eyes and whiskers. Some took steps back while others hid behind their companions. Like any simple minded creatures, they only cared about being comfortable while they gazed upon the spectacle. The young kit though, was not disturbed or moved by the wind, for his eyes were solely focused on the cat before him who blocked out the sun and the endless blue sky.
“In his yearning for retribution,” Zale continued, “the god came up with a shrewd plan. He would send these traitors a gift in the form of a beautiful and capable being just like themselves. She would mate one of these traitors, and receive her own gift: a box.”
“The God created this being to be curious, and he knew one day she would open this box. When she did open the box, she unleashed terrible evils upon the world, such as famine, disease, and death.”
The crowd looked on in tense silence, as did the young toms parents who both started to fear the name this protector would choose.
Zale lowered his paw back to the ground, and then he smiled, flicking his tail-tip over the kit’s pale nose.
“She became afraid, this young and beautiful being. For all her gifts, she could not believe the disaster she had brought. But with a little encouragement…,” Zale paused, turning his head over his shoulder and nodding at his she-cat companion. At once, the she-cat nodded in understanding, her aquamarine eyes lighting up in a fiery glow. She purred as she dug both of her paws into the dirt beneath the grass. A raging aquamarine fire then came rushing out of the ground around her like miniature geysers, causing the cats nearby to leap back in fear and shock and awe. There was no real danger here. Cursed knew better than to harm normal cats, and the flames wouldn’t burn them anyways, for many cursed knew how to produce flames that didn’t burn. Needless to say, this didn’t stop most cats from reeling in terror when flames came hungrily knocking at their flesh.
As the flames roared into the sky, their embers spread over the hills surrounding the barn. Slowly, little aquamarine drops formed and puddled in a dried up lake-bed at the bottom of one of the hills closest to the shed. As if produced from the air itself, the lake began to fill up with crisp blue water, its surface rolling and rejoicing at being reunited with the earth.
The little tom gasped in wonder, his eyes sparkling like the drops that fell from the sky. His gaze was matched by all who stood there, watching this event unfold with hungry eyes.
Zale returned his eyes to the kit, smiling as he spoke. “With a little encouragement, she opened the box again, and watched as hope flowed out. With it came the soothing calm that would heal wounds left by the evils unleashed.”
“And the god named her:
Pandora.”
Pandora would be his name, and both of his parents were fine with that. For what could be better than to be named after a ‘she’ who brought great evils and hope to the world?
Chapter 2: wip