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Post by » ѕнαdσω ⚔️ on Mar 30, 2017 17:59:41 GMT -5
The Story
Prologue
“There is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone Moon fire. That was all she dreamed about.
From the moment ice kissed her skin untill water thawed her heart, these dreams plagued her restlessly.
Some would take these dreams as a sign of untapped power just waiting to be scraped out and sculpted into one’s own terrible will; a foretelling of great beauty, rage, and dominance over the natural world. Yet, others would interpret it as undeniable misfortune. Fire was the destroyer, the eraser, the claw stained in dried blood; its reach was never ending and its result was always ash. Fate would never have its day, because fate was obsolete in the presence of the great flame.
But moon fire-a fire of not sun but moon-was a peculiar shade of this destructive power. The moon was in itself a question and an answer to the sun. What is bright, but not blinding? What is luminous, but ever-changing? The moon was not warm, but cold, and yet it changed more often than the sun, and one could safely gaze onto its pale, smooth surface and be in awe of its otherworldly beauty. Most importantly, the moon was a light in the dark, but it was not always there to provide such comforts.
This was the reality that she saw in her dreams of moon fire. An ever-changing world consumed in an unpredictable and yet calculated flame. Brilliant, graceful, and deadly. So deadly, that she would be eaten alive by its silver blaze.
But, the inferno would end as soon as she opened her eyes; eyes that were filled with the moon fire that she dreamed about every night until the time came for her to die. And die she did, under a moon as dark as the abyss her spirit would wander in to.
Chapter One: Under the Indifferent Moon
Spottedmoon I couldn’t remember why I had decided to go to the river. Maybe I thought its tranquil waters would calm me; soothe me into believing that the path I was on was the right one. Maybe, just maybe, I could pretend to be the thing my loved ones needed. Pretend to be a leader; chosen by my predecessor whose body was now rotting in the cold ground.
If the beliefs held by the population in the valley were to be believed, his spirit and soul would travel to another realm where his life would be displayed out in front of him; laid bare for all to see. There the valley clan leader would be judged, and would then be put into the realm that he most deserved.
A realm he most deserved. If that is the case, we will all be going to the Dark Forest; a realm of shadows and nothing more.
I remember leaning down to drink from the river, the cold water tickling my whiskers. Within the dancing, swirling waters I could see my reflection. My eyes, those damned eyes, burned with that insatiable moon fire that had haunted my dreams since I was born. No matter how many times I had discussed it with the GlacierClan medicine cat, a meaning could never be reached.
I had learned moons ago to bury the nightmares deep within my heart.
Then, as if the indifferent moon itself had turned its back on me, a sharp force came swiftly down upon my back and cleaved itself in between my shoulder blades, causing me to gasp and fall forwards, going under the lapping waves of the river.
I had twisted and turned, managing to face my attacker, but the turbulent water caused by my thrashing blurred the image. I can remember even now how my breath leaped from me in bubbles that ran to the surface of the water, seeking safety, and how my body slowly burned from the inside, the fire of my soul roaring in defiance. I can still feel how my claws sunk into firm, lean muscle, going so far as to scrape against the feline’s shoulder blades. No sound escaped from the cat who became my murderer, but I’m starting to believe that my moon fire dreams had predicted this all along.
Because just as the last vapors of life left my gaping jaws, the water calmed enough that I could see the outline of the feline, and she was surrounded in moon fire.
Chapter Two: Under the Eyes of the StarsSpottedmoon “We are gathered to place Spottedmoon, deputy of GlacierClan, under trial to examine the worth of her prior existence in the living realm.”
Here I stand, in the exact same place as Talonstar had been when he passed on into the next life. What a tragedy it was for a deputy so hastily named to follow only days after her predecessor. It seems fate is too cruel a mistress to remove her claws from my hide.
And it seems, even in my afterlife, the mistress is still not done toying with me.
I drag my claws over the smooth pale grey stone beneath me yet again as the Guardian of StarClan himself, Nathaniel, locks his pale, fern colored eyes with mine.
“Do you have anything you’d like to say before we begin the process?” he meows.
I feel the tip of my middle claw crack off on the rock below me.
“No,” I reply, a growl rumbling in my chest.
He nods, not seeming at all surprised by my answer. He simply turns to the seven distinct cats sitting behind him on a raised rocky outcrop.
I could listen in on their conversation and be a part of my own trial, but instead I take a moment to look at my surroundings…which are unbelievable. The piece of sky that I can see is white and empty, save a very large black crescent moon that glows and leaks shadows into the surrounding space. The trees are the typical dark pine but are wider than ten cats standing side by side, and the tops vanish into a thick fog that acts as a natural canopy tens of fox-lengths above me. The trunks themselves have mysterious charred black scarring with visible cracks of new growth coming through. Like they recently suffered from a fire but are just now recovering.
An afterlife fire maybe. Natural fires don’t leave claw marks on trees…
I look down then, as the seven judges of the stars continue to discuss the fate of my spirit and soul, and notice that the tip of my claw is intact.
Time has no meaning here. It’s possible that every second I’m dead in the Realm of the Living, an entire millennium passes here, and I wouldn’t even notice.
A ghost wind whips past my pale spotted fur, pushing me slightly to the side. I steady myself, flattening my ears to my skull. Whispered voices follow the wind in these non-living realms. I have learned to turn them away, lest I am tempted to follow them.
“Spottedmoon, the judges can’t reach a decision.”
I return to the meeting at hand and turn my head to meet Nathaniel’s gaze, his eyes surprisingly hard and void of warmth.
Shouldn’t the Guardian of StarClan be more…light?
“What do you mean can’t?” I protest, my pelt bristling, “I need to be sent somewhere, don’t I?”
“Yes,” Nathaniel agrees, “but your life has been riddled with cruelties. Cruelties that some of the judges believe can be excused because of your otherwise good intentions.”
I arch my brow at him, skeptical of his explanation. “Then what’s the problem? Just send me on my way to StarClan,” I say.
Nathaniel narrows his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “I find your ego too inflated to truly realize your sins.”
I sniff, finding amusement in this tom’s words. “My ego? My ego is what has kept me alive; kept me sane in the living world that you left so many moons ago. How would you even know what it’s like to live as I have in the time we are in now?”
Nathaniel’s lip curls, his tail lashing, “I was born during a time of war and unnecessary bloodshed where cats died around me every day. You lived in a time of peace and prosperity where the biggest war you ever participated in was a border skirmish.” He pauses, observing my every breath and tic until I feel exposed before him.
“Your ego has failed you Spottedmoon,” he says coldly. “You are dead now, and you must pay for the treacheries you have committed.”
I dig my claws into the stone beneath me, feeling them crack again. “What about my murderer?” I shout, my tail lashing wildly. “Where is the punishment they will receive for taking the life of a valley leader?”
“All murderers will get their due time,” Nathaniel hisses, “but you were not a valley clan leader, and now you never will be.”
I shut my mouth, feeling my words running dry in the presence of his oppressive form. He is far wiser, and far older than I, which leads to failures in trying to get him to see my side of things.
“I, Nathaniel, Guardian of the Realm of the Stars, sentence you, Spottedmoon, to traverse the realm known as the Between World.”
My heart stops.
“Wait, what? Why are you sending me there?” I demand, standing up on all fours.
Nathaniel looks down at me from his perch on the rocky outcrop, the eyes of the seven judges just as disinterested as his.
“Because you need to prove yourself,” he says, “and figure out which morals define you. No realm will accept you with the divided mentality you have.”
Fury builds in me. “Divided mentality? Have you ever met anyone else from the valley who doesn’t have one?”
“Plus,” Nathaniel interrupts, “you do not want to go to StarClan for yourself. That is essential if a spirit and its soul are to be accepted.”
Pompous, ignorant, meddling, hypocritical piece of-
“My intentions are clear. Whether or not I want to go there for my own selfish reasons shouldn’t matter,” I growl.
Nathaniel’s eyes change briefly, becoming softer and distant. “You don’t care where you go, so long as you find your missing daughter.”
I remain silent.
His eyes then revert back to their natural state, a hard, cold rock, and he continues.
“Your sentence will be in the Between World, but your task is to re-discover your soul, and find out who and what you are. This way, you can return to us and prove that you are worthy to hunt among your ancestors in the stars.”
Without warning, I feel a tug in the middle of my chest.
I gasp, my cracked claws breaking as I try to stop myself from being pulled forward by a force in the center of my rib cage. It wrenches me harshly, ripping and burning on the inside while my outsides remain cold and unchanged.
“What’s happening?” I hiss, slipping down off the rock and tumbling onto the grey colored grass that smells of ashes. I clutch my chest, groaning as it feels like it will be torn open.
No answer is given as dozens of lights begin to fly from my body. Each one glitters with a cold incandescence that almost makes the pain bearable, but then they all cluster and form the outline of a cat. A cat who looks exactly like me.
“These are your soul shards,” Nathaniel explains,.“They will be scattered throughout the Between World and you must find them all, or else you cannot return.”
Then, Nathaniel murmurs under his breath, so quiet that I don’t notice when he’s finished.
Next to him, in front of the giant burnt pines, forms the tall, rectangular shape of an entry way; a door. The border of the door is made of dark stone with strange pale marks carved onto its surface. The inside glows bizarrely. It’s like staring onto the surface of a dark lake. It moves and shifts, while the very middle is a luminous dark blue, as if there is a light source on the other side.
My soul shards walk forwards, coming to the threshold of the door, and just as their paw-my paw-steps over, my glowing soul body scatters, each individual ball of light barreling into the door and vanishing.
Nathaniel locks his gaze with mine. I can nearly see my reflection in them. A thin, pale she-cat with un-earthly, glaring moonstone eyes.
“Your turn,” he says, his voice calm and collected.
The Between World…could you be in there, Snowkit?
Bunching my muscles under my fur, I gather myself and march towards the door, not looking at Nathaniel as I pass him.
Just before I step into the dark, uncertain waters, I hear the Guardian of the Stars speak one last time.
“Good luck, Spottedmoon.”
I pause, almost wanting to spit a retort back at him, but instead shut my eyes and push myself into the door.
I will see you again, Nathaniel, in this world or the next.
Chapter Three: Under an Ugly-Pigeon-Tadpole I arrive on the other side much too quickly, and find myself exactly where I had been the last time I was traveling between realms.
Underwater.
Panic sets in, and my jaws part, desperate for air. It is almost amusing that even though I am dead, pain still registers inside my body.
Inside my spirit. I don’t have a body anymore.
I orient myself so that I can swim upwards, or where I think upwards is. The water-as it had been in the door-is dark, but as I swim upwards it becomes bluer and brighter, nearly blinding me as I finally break through the surface.
I gasp, drinking sweet air into my lungs, only to have a wave come crashing over my head, causing me to roll head over tail.
Why does it have to be water?
I right myself and struggle to the surface once more to find yet another wave pummel me back into the water. This time the lake comes rushing in and fills my mouth, flowing down into my throat where the unpleasant taste of salt overwhelms my senses. I begin to sink, my limbs growing tired.
My pelt then drags across gritty sand under the waves, and frustration blossoms in my chest. I find footing, and push up to raise my head above the water once more, coughing up the water that had gotten into my throat.
Through my squinting eyes, I see a blurry shape just barely cresting over the water before me.
There! A shore!
I cough and choke on salt water as I splash through the waves and reach the shallows that lead onto dry land, flopping down on the nearest warm patch of sand. I lie there for a few moments, letting my breath come back to me and my heart settle.
I’m feeling so much more in this realm than the last. It’s almost like I’m alive again.
I look down the length of my body to check for injuries. I don’t see any glaring issues, but my fur is ruined. Not only is it caked in sand, but it stinks of fish and warm, salty water. Trying to clean myself would be impossible.
Why do I care about cleanliness when I’m dead? Get your head together, Spottedmoon, we have to hunt down those shards.
I roll onto my side, watching as the water trickles from the fur between by toes and onto the sand, staining it darker.
But the dark sand keeps spreading, and I realize to my dismay that it’s not because of my wet fur.
Great StarClan, what now?
I slowly look up, my eyes widening as the light from above is completely blocked out by a wall of…water.
By some ‘realm magic’, the body of water is folded over like a ceiling. Salt water drips down and splatters onto the sand, but the majority of the liquid ceiling remains intact.
“Okay…the land folds. That’s great,” I mutter, not entirely sure if it’s safe to move.
The answer comes as another shadow is cast. This time, it moves fluidly through the water above me, and I feel my body shiver in response.
The creature is at least ten times larger than any bear in the valley, and from what I can discern through the rippling water, it has a long neck and a long tail, two large flippers, and two hind legs.
It slows, and then the creature dips its head down and pierces through the veil of water.
I clamp my mouth shut, curling in on myself to appear smaller, less of a threat.
It’s not a bear, but it might react in the same way if I’m aggressive.
The creature’s head alone is easily twice the size of my body. It’s covered in pale scales along the underparts of its neck and head, and it is crowned in sea-colored feathers. Its mouth is a large hooked beak and its eyes…a striking sky blue. Exactly like home.
It cackles, its scales and feathers rattling, flicking water onto the ground and onto me. It leans closer, opening its beak to breathe in.
It’s seeing whether I’m prey or predator.
It makes a whistling sound, its beak clicking a few times, and then, after it tilts its head into a typical fishing position, it lunges.
I scream, much to my personal embarrassment, and leap up and away, rolling into the sand as the scaled bird-fish-thing prepares to lunge again.
“I am not a fish!” I yowl, dodging as its beak comes down on a pile of sand instead of me.
It shakes its head, cawing and whistling. Its feathers bristle in frustration, but it prepares once more, this time leaning lower so there is less distance to cover.
It’s quick. I’m only lucky because I’m small. I need to run, but if this salty lake extends all the way like the sky…there is no outrunning this thing.
As its head rears back like a snake about to strike, a loud screeching sound interrupts, causing it to flinch and drop its head to the ground, as if it can’t bear the sound.
I turn around, only to have another dose of realm weirdness.
A she-cat charges from the darkness beyond the beach and runs onto the sand. Her legs are long, but muscular; more muscle bulging beneath her pelt which is split between black and white fur, and something about it…her coat is…moving.
As she halts in front of the lizard-eagle-trout, I can see clearly the swirls actively curling and swirling on her back and face where the two opposite colors meet. When she screeches at the creature, the swirls become more erratic, and when she moves from side to side, the movement makes the animation sway.
I am completely entranced as she continues to shriek and bounce around the ugly-pigeon-tadpole, forcing it back up into the ceiling of water as it loses interest in its once easier, and quieter, prey.
I stand there dumbfounded as she remains standing under the wall of water, watching the beast swim away. After a few moments, she turns around and faces me for the first time.
I gasp, a memory violently resurfacing.
“You…you will pay for this, Spottedmoon.”
I turned to see the dark, ash grey she-cat hissing at me, her voice cold and calm despite the fury that built in her hunter’s moon eyes.
I moved my eyes to the apprentice lying behind her, whose name I now knew to be Ospreypaw, whose throat I had slashed open, and then to the dark grey she-cat with the angry eyes who took a protective stance in front of her. Behind her, along with the wounded Ospreypaw, looked what appeared to be her siblings. One stood a bit apart from the carnage, the white splotch on her tortoiseshell chest rising and falling in a panicked manner. The other sibling held Ospreypaw with much care, holding her paw to the wound in her throat. That apprentice I knew. Her name was Shadowpaw.
I looked back at the dark grey she-cat then, noticing that within the reflection of her eyes my shoulder was turning a dark scarlet from the painful bite Shadowpaw had given me which was now mysteriously burning.
“I will curse you…,” she hissed softly. “I will curse you for bringing death upon this life. I will personally escort you to the Realm of the Dead if it is the last thing I do!”
I had no idea what she was going on about, even though I knew her pain. She had to be their mother to have such rage in her eyes her eyes…eyes that were melting and rotting away to reveal-
“Who are you?” I snarl, quickly getting to my paws.
I am brought back to the present as the black and white she-cat with the animated pelt walks briskly toward me, her steps light, careful, practiced.
“Welcome,” she says casually. “I’m glad you managed to find your way here.”
I sniff at her remark and take a step back as she comes within striking distance.
She takes note of the move, but says nothing of it. She doesn’t come any closer either.
“Were you told why you were sent here?” she questions.
I nod, feeling my eyes burn slightly as I realize I have not blinked since she faced me.
Her tail-tip twitches. “Did they give you a task?”
I nod, forcing myself to blink. It’s hard to even think with her eyes…
She growls, clearly impatient with me. “Well? What is it?”
I flinch. “Uh…they want me to find my soul shards and-”
“He split your soul into pieces and scattered it to the four winds of this realm,” she says, the growl now gone from her voice. Her eyes reveal nothing, but whatever annoyances she might have held are gone by the time she finishes her sentence.
My judgement must be common.
“What, exactly, is this realm?” I ask, already knowing it is the Between World, but not entirely certain what that entails.
Those damned eyes of hers…why did it trigger me like that?
She fixes her horrid gaze upon me, her expression still neutral, still revealing nothing.
“This is one of the seven realms, Spottedmoon; the Between World, the realm between the realms. All souls must pass through here if they wish to travel between the upper and lower realms of the after life. Which means,” she pauses, gesturing with a jerk of her eyes upwards, “the Realm of the Stars is above us, and,” she pauses again, splaying her toes of her left paw out in front of her into the sand, “the Abyss, the Realm of the Dead, and the Realm of Shadows is below.”
She explains so matter-of-factly that all I can muster in response is a quiet ‘oh’.
And how did she know my name?
She rolls her eyes slightly, another lively expression of annoyance. “I guess they stopped teaching such things in the Realm of the Living.”
I nod, swallowing thickly. “I didn’t even know StarClan had another name, nor that there were other realms in the after life.”
She gazes unabashedly at me, her eyes assessing and calculating. It’s as if she can see deep into my spirit, and into the soul that was once there.
Then she breaks the stare and shakes her head. “Of all the cats Nathaniel had to send me, it had to be you,” she drawls, striding past me.
I turn, feeling offended as I trail after her.
“What does that mean?” I retort.
“It means,” she calls over her shoulder, not breaking stride, “that you are going to be a lot more difficult to help than I originally thought.”
I grind my jaws together. “Why?”
She turns to face me again, this time coming much closer than before, forcing my head back so that I end up looking down on her.
“Let us be certain you understand your circumstance, Spottedmoon,” she says, her eyes dragging me into their intimidating depths and completely ignoring my earlier exclamation. “You are here because StarClan judged you to be unworthy of joining their ranks, but they did not see you as troublesome enough to be sent to the rotting cesspool that is the Dark Forest. But I know there is more to you than your life choices, and you have clearly refused to acknowledge it. Or maybe, you are afraid?” she muses, her head tilting slightly to the side.
“What are you trying to say?” I growl, my heart pounding in my ears. I can feel the sand grains sliding coldly between my outstretched claws.
“I’m expressing the difficulty of the task given to you. Your soul is much more than just a normal cat’s soul.” She then locks her despicable eyes on my chest, narrowing them as if she can peer into the emptiness there. “I can sense cooling embers floating in your spirit. A fire once used to rage there-”
“Then why are you choosing to help me if it’s so difficult?” I snap back, stopping her before she can continue. “Maybe I don’t want your help.”
“Because Nathaniel personally requested that I do,” she says coldly, lifting her irises from my chest to my face, “and your best chance of getting to StarClan is to let me guide you through your journey here.”
This she-cat personally escorting me…I don’t know if I should be honored or freaked that even the Guardian of StarClan wanted her help. Who is she anyways?
I feel my pelt prickle and crawl as her eyes bore into mine. Something in them makes me afraid, makes me nervous and paranoid. No matter who or what is forcing her to help me, I have a feeling that my time here won’t be pleasant.
I lower my head in respect, but also to avoid her eyes. “Thank you,” I say grudgingly.
Her eyes narrow, but she sighs, flicking her tail.
“Let us move on, then.”
I raise my head, watching her walk away for a few moments before following, her eyes still bleeding into my mind.
Such eyes filled with flame, just as the grey she-cat’s eyes had become as she denounced me in front of our clans. But it wasn’t just the flame, it was the color too.
Crimson.
Flaming, crimson eyes.
I think I’m starting to miss the ugly-pigeon-tadpole. Chapter Four: Under a Crimson Gaze We walk for what seems like days.
Maybe it hasn’t been that long. The amount of sunlight shining in through the ceiling of salt water hasn’t changed, indicating that it would still be daytime.
Or maybe it’s been longer. The silence between the black and white she-cat and I is slowly weathering me down to a frustrated pulp. I usually like silence, but this…long and drawn out…it’s like my ears are straining just to pick up the slightest of sounds of breath from her.
The calm and the landscape…it’s been water in the sky and pale sand beneath for miles with no interruptions. I might rip all my fur out just to keep myself entertained.
I’m not sure if it’s fear or anger that keeps me from speaking to her and breaking the quiet. In fact, I don’t really know why I even want to. The she-cat hasn’t even introduced herself. Besides the brief welcome, she hasn’t said a single word.
I squint my eyes as a beam of sunlight pierces through the water above. There must be clouds in another sky above the water. That, or it’s the ugly-pigeon-tadpole again swimming above us.
I decide to look up into the water to make sure, but all I see is clear blue and sunlight. The shadows are just that; shadows. I let myself breathe a sigh of relief.
“We are almost there,” she says.
Finally. It speaks.
“Nearly where? You haven’t told me where we are going,” I reply, sinking my claws deep into the pale sand beneath me as I move over it.
“That is none of your concern,” she says with a cold tone.
I sigh, my tail lashing. “I thought you were here to help me? Shouldn’t I at least be aware-?”
“No,” she hisses firmly, flipping her tail over my mouth as I try to open it to spit a retort back. I bat her tail away, snarling, but then immediately silence myself as I see what she stopped me for.
There is a wall stretched out on either side of us. It’s made out of dark, smoky fog that curls and swirls and reaches out toward us, as if beckoning us to walk into its embrace. It reaches all the way up into the lake and stains it black where they meet.
When did that get there? We’ve been walking straight into a dark horizon this entire time!
I move my eyes to the she-cat, wondering how she is going to get us around it, or if it is safe to simply pass through. After a few moments of waiting, I watch her step forward and sit on her haunches, her tail laid out behind her like a long branch. It all appears very routine, as if she’s done this many times before. She probably has, given the way her brow scrunches up slightly in annoyance.
She then shuts her eyes and lets out a long deep breath. The sound of her sigh echoes around me, and I feel a deathly cool wind blow against my cheeks. The fur on my spine lifts.
She raises her two front paws, keeping her balance as she pushes them out, pads facing the wall. Her brow wrinkles further as she concentrates, and then begins murmuring.
I lean in, curious if I can understand any of it. But, to my astonishment, she is speaking in a different language I cannot even begin to discern. The sound is low and rough, with a sharp and clipped way of pronouncing her words.
Didn’t Nathaniel murmur something similar when he summoned that door?
Then, she begins to move both of her paws apart, and as she does, the wall of fog begins to slowly part in time with her movements. It’s reluctant at first, the fog lashing out and reaching toward her with misty claws. They run into some sort of invisible shield, the sound of the claws scrapping against it making me cringe and tuck my ears tightly to my skull. The she-cat does not flinch or open her eyes even once. She just keeps chanting, her voice growing louder when the wall tries to resist.
If my jaw could hit the floor, I’m sure it would at this. Not in shock. More like…discomfort. Or eeriness.
Everything in this realm is weird and creepy and just plain wrong. A giant ugly-pigeon-tadpole tried to eat me just by my walking in for StarClan’s sake!
After the wall is spread far enough so we can get through, she gets back on all four of her paws, then turns to me, her eyes glowing a bit more brightly than before.
“I have other duties to attend to. But I will not leave you on this journey, Spottedmoon,” she assures me, her bloody gaze revealing nothing to prove that what she is saying is true. “So please, follow me, and don’t ask any more questions.”
She begins to walk forwards, leaving me behind, but then pauses, adding, “Oh, and don’t touch the fog. She likes to feast on the energy of spirits.”
I gulp. “She?” I look behind the she-cat to see that even though the wall has been pushed apart, the tendrils of smoke and mist filled claws are still trying to reach out toward us. Further up above our heads certain appendages are trying to stitch themselves back together, but keep getting pulled apart by some invisible force. Whatever words the she-cat spoke, it seems to have weakened this…she.
The she-cat''s tail sways back and forth to make sure the fog doesn’t close in on us as I run up to her side.
“Yes, she,” she meows. “Her name is Kallithea, the spirit eater. She’s been here for as long as this realm has existed.”
“That’s…um, that’s great,” I stammer, eyeing the dark fog with a newfound respect and fear. To think that even the walls here can eat you…
I swear I hear a small chuckle reverberate from the creature around us.
“Can I…ask one more question?” I speak up, wanting to somehow get my mind off of the very likely possibility that I will be swept up and eaten by this Kallithea. “I swear it’s not about where we are going…or what it is you’re going to do,” I continue, hating how my voice wavers.
She nods, her eyes remaining forwards, not giving fuel to my nerves. “Go ahead.”
I clear my throat. “I…ah, I don’t know your name.”
She pauses, her steps faltering.
No, no, no, don’t stop!
“Why do you want to know my name?” she asks.
I take note of her change in pace, and continue despite every cell in my body screaming at her to shut up and run.
“Because, what else am I supposed to call you?” I say, now curious if anyone else before me had bothered to ask for her name. Maybe they hadn’t. She surely wasn’t very conversational.
She sniffs. “Which name would you like to call me?”
I tilt my head in confusion, starting to forget about the ancient, hungry creature surrounding us. “Um, you’re name. The one you were given.”
Her head turns so that I can see her eyes, and for whatever reason, they seem ancient and powerful, especially with the way Kallithea reflects in her red irises.
“I have many names,” she states as if it were obvious. “I have been named Edna the red flame, Alastrine the defender of the rebels, Devona the divine one, and Kynthelig the guide.”
“You had all of those names?” I exclaim, now feeling slightly guilty for how I had treated her earlier. She must have been one impressive cat to have so many titles.
She nods, her eyes shifting from me to the wall of fog.
“Well, which one did your parents give you?” I ask, persisting.
Instantly her crimson gaze slides back to me. I can’t decipher if it is anger or weariness that takes precedence in her eyes.
It takes her a few moments before she answers. “Hadiya.”
A pause.
“…That’s it?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
I almost burst out laughing. Almost.
“No Hadiya the brave?” I tease, amusement dripping like honey from my voice. “Hadiya the undead victor? Hadiya the slayer of the ugly-pigeon-tad-?”
“No,” she interrupts, sighing and turning away from me, continuing her path through the spirit eater around us. “It was just Hadiya.”
“Hm. Disappointing,” I remark, letting a small smile slip through.
Maybe she’s not so scary after all.
She doesn’t take notice of my remark as we emerge from Kallithea’s walls and enter onto rough, pebbled ground. It almost reminds me of the pebble covered shore back in the Valley, except these stones are much smaller and rougher on the pads.
Overhead the sky is a light, dusty blue, but the sun is covered by a dark, inky black disk. Streams of fiery red light spew out from under the disc and glow hotly.
“Does the sky ever look normal here?” I mutter to myself.
“It is meant to be unfamiliar, to confuse the spirit and deter the soul from finding home,” Hadiya says.
I look to where she is now sitting on the pebbles, her tail laid out behind her like before.
How did she hear me?
Instead I ask. “Why would a realm want to do that?”
Hadiya shuts her eyes, burying her paws into the rocks beneath her. “Because this is the only realm with both light and darkness,” she explains, her crimson gaze resting gently upon the ground. “It is meant to test you.”
“Light and darkness…like, good and evil? Can the realms be defined that way?” I inquire.
She shakes her head, now spreading the pebbles apart under her paws. “No.”
I wait, hoping for an explanation.
But one doesn’t come, instead she begins chanting, using that same sharp, clipped language that wraps around my ears and forces me to listen. I so badly want to interrupt and ask what she is saying, but I have a feeling that if I did, there would be consequences. Ones that I wouldn’t enjoy.
As she continues her ritual, the ground slowly begins to tremble, growing steadily stronger until I’m burying my paws deep into the rocks beneath me to keep myself standing. A few tail-lengths ahead, the pebbles begin to split apart in seven different spots. From the cracks emerge large, double stone doors. One of them I recognize instantly as the one I went through to get to the Between World from StarClan.
These must be the entrances to the rest of the realms.
After several heart-beats pass inside of my chest, the doors lock in place. The pebbles stop moving and the earth beneath me stops shaking and Hadiya stops chanting. She gently bows her head, pressing her nose into the pebbles at her feet, and then raising her gaze to observe the doors.
Each one is distinctly unique. Besides the similar, dark stone that they are made out of, each door is exquisitely carved. The one that I recognize with the same patterning has a parallel mountain range in the middle, except the mountains are mirror images. One points upwards, and the other downwards. If I look closely enough, I can see strange figures walking on the mountain peaks. I don't quite understand why the door in StarClan didn't have this same symbol. Perhaps it wasn't fully summoned.
To the left of the Between World door there is three more doors. The very last one to the left stands out, the symbol on its front representing the appearance of a tadpole curling in on itself. It is the most simplistic design, but it raises goosebumps on my flesh.
To the right there is another three doors. The door right next to the Between World is clearly the Realm of the Living where the clans are. The symbol on the front is a depiction of Mother Sky as a feathery, winged creature with streaks of lightning emerging from its beak. Father Earth is represented as a grounded, scaly creature with molten skin. From its jaws large fires spew forth.
The Living Realm; the Realm ruled by the creators of our world.
The next door depicts a large tree with long twisting roots digging all the way down and breaking into the patterns outlining the door itself. The leaves are all twinkling stars with hanging vines falling to the ground. This one must be StarClan.
Then the last one, the seventh realm, throws every design before it into the dirt place.
It is scarred. Long, twisted, angry scratches cover its charcoal stained surface. The claw marks have left what looks to be like signs of an intense fire behind. They are all stained black, like soot has permanently laid itself in the rock. Behind the scars I can barely make out some kind of original symbol like the other doors have. Giant flames outline a pair of felines standing side by side with two giant pairs of wings rising behind them.
I know my mouth is agape, but I don’t care as I slowly wobble forwards, going up to the seventh realm on the right.
“You never told me the name of this realm,” I say to Hadiya, feeling her eyes pierce themselves into my back.
But once again, she does not offer an explanation, instead she stands and walks over to the door to the Realm of the Living.
“Stay here. I have a matter to attend to that demands my full attention,” she tells me, her crimson eyes locking with mine, ripping my own eyes away from the un-named realm.
“Don’t,” she hisses, her voice deathly calm. It feels like she is peering directly into my head and taking all of my thoughts and laying them out in the open. “Do not open any of these doors while I am gone. It is not safe for an un-experienced cat to traverse the realms. Do you understand?”
I nod, still finding the words to convey my awe.
How very small my old life seems now…
Her tail flicks once, and then the door before her is opening, and she is walking through it, and then she vanishes.
I am left alone.
I am alone.
I feel an itch. A very familiar itch. It is the urge to go exploring. To seek out my own answers…and my own trouble.
No, I should listen to her. She is my guide after all. She knows these realms far better than I. She probably even knows more about the Realm of the Living than I do. Yet, for all of that…I still want to open a door. That door.
Dammit, Spottedmoon.
Honestly, what else could happen? I’m dead.
Dead, but not lifeless! You need to stay safe so that you can find your daughter and find out what happened to her.
But…the door…when will I ever get another chance to truly see all the seven realms?
You just want to see what’s behind the seventh door. You could hardly care about the others.
So? Who doesn’t like a little danger?
You won’t walk into it?
No. I just want to know what’s inside…
Fine…dig your own grave, I guess.
I walk up closer to the door, my limbs slightly shivering with uncontrolled excitement and nerves. My heart races and adrenaline pumps through my veins. I wish I could feel like this all the time.
The smell of burning things enters my nostrils, and I reel back in surprise. With the smell comes the feeling of warmth, of heat. It is welcoming. Almost gentle, teasing me with tiny details.
How dare she keep me from knowing about you?
I grin, pushing my paw against the double stone doors. Underneath my pads, the rock pulses, steam hissing at the contact with my flesh. The surface is hot, but I don’t feel the pain.
Smoke begins to ooze out from under the doors, snaking around my legs and floating up to my stomach, curling around my abdomen and playing with my tail.
“You want to know about me too, don’t you?” I croon at the door, barely containing my excitement as I put my other paw on the doors and give a forceful push.
What greets me is not gentle.
The doors slam wide open, the stone cracking in a few places as a giant collage of roaring, colorful flames comes shooting out at me.
They give me brief flight and drop me a tail-length or so away, the flames continuing to bombard me with their scorching heat and wild, untamed fingers. There are red, orange and yellow flames, but among them are stranger concoctions. There are metallic, sparkling gold flames and stinging, evergreen flames and passionate pink flames and electric blue flames and even indigo flames. Then I spot small sparks of aquamarine and purple and earthy brown and lavender and ivory and olive and buttercup.
I have never seen so many colors of flame. Fires rarely happened in the valley, but when they did they were usually red and orange in color. And they were devastating. Destructive. Chaotic. All the clans feared them, maybe even more than an avalanche or a flash flood. There are ways to avoid those catastrophes with proper preparation and awareness. But a fire? All you can do is run.
But I cannot run. Each flame that comes rushing out of the door seems to add layer upon layer of color and it begins to physically weigh me down. The flames want me. The flames want me to walk into the door and join them in their fiery, violent display.
Then, there is a screeching sound, like claws scraping with full force against limestone. It rips through the air and becomes a large body of crimson flames shooting out from the side of my vision. It careens with the many flames still attaching themselves to me, and cleaves right through them, like a fang through a mouse’s soft gut.
I feel my body go limp, the layers of flame shattering and fleeing back inside of the door. A shadow is cast over me, and a roar of pure rage echoes in the world around me, making my bones quiver. A loud chant is recited and the flames are corralled back into the realm they came from, the doors slowly shutting them in once again.
Then, a crimson gaze fills my entire view.
“You bloody idiot!” Hadiya yells, crimson flames encircling her body. “I leave you alone for a few moments and you go and open one of the doors? And not just any door, the one door you should never open!”
I’m gasping. The rush of the adrenaline is starting to wear off, and I can feel something settling in my chest. A small creature worming its way into my spirit and re-claiming its home there.
“You’re on fire,” I rasp, my eyes struggling to stay open.
Hadiya’s eyes look like they could burst out of their sockets, but instead she calmly breathes in, and lets out a long, focused sigh. All the anger gone; wiped in a few moments.
“Yes, I am, but so are you,” she says with slight annoyance still bubbling in her voice. She shakes out her black and white fur, and with the movement, the red flames around her disperse.
I scrunch my moonstone eyes up at her. “What do you mean?” I croaked, my throat raw from inhaling some of the flames that had attacked me. As far as I knew, I wasn’t spewing colored flames out of my pores.
Under her crimson gaze, she smiles grimly, seeming not at all too pleased that she had managed to save my life. It probably would have been easier if I had died, then she wouldn’t have to babysit me any longer. “Do you not feel the presence in your chest? I’m sure it’s settled by now,” she says carefully. She then leans forward, touching that place where I felt the thing she was talking about make itself at home in my chest. “It is one of your soul shards.”
Hope springs up in my limbs. “I got one?” I say, my voice rattling inside of my throat. “Which one?”
Hadiya shakes her head, releasing me from her intimidating blood red stare and gazing back at the door I had opened. “It is a soul shard you never recognized, and could never awaken until now,” she says, her voice sounding almost reminiscent. “It is the part of your soul that harbored the dormant power of your curse.”
What? I sit up, coughing a bit as I do. “Excuse me? My curse?”
Say that again.
Hadiya turns to look at me, and I realize that she hadn’t been reminiscing at all. She is being haunted by something from her past.
“It seems the Realm of Flames wanted you to have it.”
. . . THE END OF THE INTRODUCTIONS - & - THE BEGINNING OF THE JOURNEY
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Post by » ѕнαdσω ⚔️ on Mar 30, 2017 17:59:55 GMT -5
The Story: Continued
Chapter Five: Under an Innocent Sun
I sit on soft green grass, a pale yellow sun weakly shining down upon my pale spotted coat. A bubbling stream filled with strange, fat, colorful fish leisurely flows past me, winding away into a dense group of leafless trees that cast the forest floor in pitch black shadow.
This scene almost seems normal for once. No black discs covering the sun, or giant, foggy, spirit eaters covering the horizon. It’s just grass, sun, water, and shadow.
But I am staring at my paw, my pad facing me, as I play with the silver flames erupting from the space between my toes.
All normalcy is lost in the silver blaze.
“What is this?” I whisper, half in awe and half in horror.
“Just the world trying to fix what has already been broken,” Hadiya says from her spot across the stream, her crimson eyes following the paths of the unusual fish in the water.
I twist my paw, marveling at how the flames dance with the movement. It is exactly the same flame from my moon fire dreams. Could this be what it was trying to tell me all along? That I am a…Cursed?
“What do you mean?” I ask, raising my eyes and lowering my paw to the ground.
She hasn’t yet told me exactly what a Cursed is. She’s only shown me how to summon my flame around my paw.
Hadiya drives her claws into the stream, snagging one of the fish. It is a colorful kind with red, orange, black and white scales. But when Hadiya tries to eat it, it wriggles violently, and splits into many tiny four-legged amphibians that crawl back into the water and morph back into fish.
She growls, her tail flicking as she finally answers. “Like this annoying fish, the Cursed used to be one entity. That is how the tale goes, anyways.” Her animated pelt swirls, the black fur invading the white. “We were born, and then we were divided, and then we fought, and then our species began to die off.”
I don’t interrupt, burying my claws into the soft earth and looking down at my flaming paw as she continues.
“Our world needs Cursed, because Cursed are the protectors of the natural order, and a conduit between the Realm of the Living and the Realms of the Afterlife. Without them, our world and our home in the valley, would turn into a barren wasteland; disconnected from our ancestors.
So the world, or the deities, or the original Cursed entity…whatever you choose to believe, is trying to bring back what was lost. There was always seven Cursed, and because of your existence that number can remain true,” Hadiya finishes. I can feel her eyes glaring at my flame. It makes me wonder what her true feelings are on the issue.
“So…I am a replacement,” I say, not asking, but stating.
She nods, her glare becoming a cold stare.
I look up from my silver flame, putting it out with a slight shake of my paw. “What Cursed type are you?”
She gives a faint crooked smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I have the curse of death, which means I have the power to return the soul and spirit back to the body within an enclosed time, and I can sentence poor souls to an ending fate.”
My jaw slackens. “You get to tell cats how they will die?”
She nods, shrugging a little. “It’s honestly something I have little control over. I can’t tell them when, only how. The when part is for the cats with the curse of fate.”
I frown. “Then what’s the point of having a curse of death if the curse of fate can basically do the same thing?”
She laughs. A real laugh. “It is complicated…think of it this way. The curse of fate deals in time and time continuums. When they change fate, they create another time line and leave the old one behind. In my case, when I bring someone back from the dead, time is not affected. It is a…re-birth of the same soul.”
“Oh,” I meow, nodding my head like I understand. Instead I am more interested in her laugh.
She laughs again, her crimson eyes closing and a bright smile highlighting her usually dark and brooding features.
She has a really nice laugh, if you give it a chance.
I let myself smile too, a bit less so than Hadiya. It feels good.
“What do you think my curse is?” I ask, starting to feel somewhat excited about the powers I could have.
She tilts her head, her laughter gone, but her eyes still bright. “That is a good question. We will have to find out. It could prove useful in our adventures to come.”
I bring my fire back out, lifting my paw and examining it once more. “How do we find out?”
She stands and leaps across the stream, coming to stand before me.
“You are going to have to light me on fire,” she says plainly.
I choke on my own saliva. “You want me to hit you?”
She smirks. “Oh come now, I know you have been wanting to give me a good beating.”
I move my gaze to the side, failing at looking innocent. “No?”
She nods to herself. “I thought so. Do not worry about harming me. Cursed are immune to the burning effects of fire, though certain Cursed, like the curse of pain, have a psychological harm that comes with their flame.”
My heart begins to race. “Like mind tricks?”
Hadiya waves her tail in acknowledgement. “In a way, yes. Their flames cause immense pain, even though they do not burn.”
I stand and raise my paw, aiming my flame at her chest. “Well then, let’s see what it does,” I hiss, excitement coursing through my veins.
“Let’s,” Hadiya echoes, nodding to my paw. “Feel your flame and imagine it flying towards me.”
I narrow my eyes, focusing on the burning feeling in my bones and veins. I try and imagine that part of me flying toward her as she instructs, but nothing happens.
I grunt, a feeling of resistance tugging my flame back to my paw. It’s like a branch that refuses to be bent or moved.
“You’re not thinking correctly,” Hadiya says, breaking my concentration. “It should feel like a flow. Natural. Easy.”
“It’s not,” I spit, grinding my teeth together. I push my paw out over and over again, but the flames stay put around my pads.
“Think of the sun. Think of how it rages against the blue sky. Imagine those rays of light pouring out from it and colliding with the ground,” Hadiya urges.
No, it’s not sun fire.
It’s moon fire.
My dreams of the silver flame come crashing into my mind, and the flame around my paw grows twice as large. I imagine the shadows playing with the weak moonlight, turning it to flee. But instead, the light turns into flame, and it lashes out at the shadows. Not for glory or life, but for beauty and self-preservation.
My flame shoots out, barreling toward Hadiya in a spiral motion. She grunts as it lands squarely on her chest, forcing her to hit the ground on her back and slide.
My jaw drops, shock rolling through me.
The grass is torn up where she slid, and a thin trail of smoke rises from her chest. I hesitantly walk forward, but when I see her grimacing face my uncertainty vanishes.
“What does it feel like?” I ask loudly, rushing over the rest of the distance to her, my excitement barely containing itself.
She growls, clutching her chest, her expression filling with annoyance. “Cold, like a freezing of my muscles.”
“I thought of the moon instead of the sun as you were telling me,” I tell her, rushing my speech. “Do you think that has anything to do with it?”
Her eyes widen briefly, her annoyance slightly subsiding. “Fascinating…,” she murmurs. Then she glares at me, still looking up at me from the ground. “I can’t move.”
I shrug, showing her my flameless paw. “I don’t know how to undo it, or even how you’re unable to move in the first place.”
Hadiya tries to stand, but fails. It seems her chest, shoulders, and upper legs are frozen in place.
“It must be a part of your power,” Hadiya muses, bending her right paw to brush her fur around her chest. “It truly feels like ice, but nothing is there to suggest its existence.”
I tilt my head, bringing my paw forward to touch her chest. “So is it like…the curse of invisible ice?”
Hadiya’s body tenses when I touch her. “Cursed don’t control other elements. Yours has more to do with the aspect of control than something as simple as ice,” she hisses, her eyes narrowing upon my paw that still rests on her chest.
I quickly take my paw away. “Oh, I see,” I reply, looking closely at my paw pad. I did not feel any coldness on her flesh despite the feeling she is describing. Could this really be a power to control others?
If only I had this when I was alive. I could have done so much with it.
“You should be grateful you are discovering this now,” Hadiya says, as if she is reading my thoughts. She slowly stands with some difficulty, the effect of my flame wearing off. “Cursed are not welcome in the clans.”
“Is that why our kind is going extinct?”
Her crimson red eyes meet mine, and I swear I see a deep pool of regret among the blood. “No. We are at fault for their fear of us and our own demise.”
“Why?”
She frowns. “You ask so many questions.”
“But I am cursed, so shouldn’t I ask questions?” I counter. “This is my history just as much as yours. All you have told me is that we were born, we were divided, and we fought and then we died. I like details.”
She sighs, the black and white patterns on her fur rolling over each other. “Yes, you should ask questions…but do you really wish to know the answers?”
I shrug. “I’m dead,” I remind her. “Who cares?”
She growls. “We cared too much.”
I am silent, feeling the weight to those words. I wait for her to continue.
She glances away from me, looking down at the stream once more where the water is slowly being tinted red. I notice then that the beautiful summer sky is slowly melting. The sun is dimming to a crimson red, and the blue melts like wax and is replaced by a darker, starlit blue. Except here, the stars are alien and look nothing like they do back home. They glow colder and don’t flicker, like a frozen firefly.
“I do not know how much of your history you were told, but the four valley clans descend from a now extinct tribe that lived beyond the valley,” she says, her voice hollow. “The ancestors of the valley clans left because the tribe was not providing for them or protecting them…we Cursed saw this injustice and helped them escape the Tribe’s corrupted leaders.
All Cursed were united in this cause…that is, until we found the valley.”
“What changed?” I ask quietly.
“Everything,” Hadiya replies harshly. “The cats saw how powerful we were, and began to drift apart. They wanted true independence without our support. The Cursed on the other hand…some of us didn’t want to remove ourselves from the valley. Others did, and wanted to leave the cats to their own fate.
“But without us, the premature clans would have been wiped out completely, because the Tribe came back for them. War broke out and Cursed took sides…we lost so many Cursed…and we lost their curses along with them.”
“Which ones?”
Hadiya closes her eyes as she speaks. “The curse of bravery and the curse of death.”
I feel an intake of breath rattle my chest. “But…the she-cat, Darkmoon-”
“She is starting over. She is a fresh generation,” Hadiya explains opening her eyes. “Cursed build their power through having children. The more generations that pass, the stronger the curse power. Darkmoon is very weak…even if she has my blood.”
I frown. “So did…did your power just vanish? How-”
“Enough questions!” Hadiya snaps, turning around to face me, a snarl echoing out through her jaws. I jump back out of reflex, my fangs protruding past my lips and my claws un-sheathing.
Her eyes widen briefly, and then she relaxes, her animated pelt flattening.
“Apologies…it has been a very long time,” she says, sighing.
I try to flatten my fur, but it doesn’t respond as readily as her pelt did. “It’s ok…I understand.”
No. I don’t. I don’t understand.
That is when a fierce, invisible tug pulls on my chest, and I go down on the ground.
“Agh! What the-”
It’s cold. It’s cold. It’s cold.
I don’t understand. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.
Why is this happening to me?
Why?
It’s so cold…
I gasp, pulling at the grass and tearing up their roots as my body seizes. Hadiya dashes to me, holding me in place as the vision completely takes over my senses.
Winter winds harshly blow through a shivering dusty spotted pelt. Beneath the small body, another shelters in vain, her pale white fur becoming sticky and stiff with frost.
They have been exposed too long. The cold has already begun to shut down their bodily functions. Their fur and paws are coated in snow and frost.
Her and her sister will die.
It’s so cold…help.
Someone…
Help us!
I choke, feeling like I am coming up from nearly drowning. I lie on my side, my sides heaving. Hadiya stands above me, her gaze unreadable, though the planes of her face are stern.
“Why did you come up?” She asks.
“What do you mean?” I snap, quickly shuffling my paws so that I can sit up.
But Hadiya pushes me back down, her crimson eyes hard. “It’s another soul shard trying to come back to you. You must succumb to it like the last one.”
“No!” I yell, shoving her away. “This is nothing like getting my curse or my soul shard or whatever this is! I am not going back.”
It’s so cold…
I wince, shaking my head.
Hadiya’s tail tip twitches, the red sun casting strange shadows over her. “You must if you want a chance at StarClan.”
Someone…anyone…
“No!” I yell again, my eye-sight slowly blacking out.
“It’s ok,” Hadiya murmurs, gently pushing me back down to the ground. “I will not leave you.”
Someone is coming!
The snow fall clears just enough for a long-haired light brown tabby tom to be seen prowling through the drifts towards the kits.
It’s so cold…my sister is so cold…
I need to warm her up, but I have no heat left.
Please! She’s dying!
The tom pauses, not coming any closer. He simply stands there and watches them.
The spotted kit trembles as she attempts to crawl towards the tom, her high pitched cries ringing out through the ice covered trees.
But still, he does not move to help.
Please! Do something!
But she halts, her eyes already open, even though at her tender age they should still be closed. She squirms and manages to turn back around, enveloping her white-furred sibling whose eyes are shut. She is no longer crying.
Please!
Help me!
Then, a sound like shrieking birds peels through the air, and a silver flame rips out from the kit’s open eyes. It envelopes her, and surrounds her sibling. It does not burn flesh, but the snow around them begins to melt. The spotted kit screams in both fright and pain.
Her sibling lets out a long sigh, the frost falling away from her soft kitten fur.
The brown tabby tom slowly approaches.
“I knew it. A cursed on my territory…you will be useful, little one.”
The kits cry in protest as he lifts them and carries them through the blizzard.
The kit’s fire slowly dies, and them sputters out, along with her screams.
I wake up again. My body feels heavy, like strings are pulling down on my limbs below the ground. I don’t open my eyes, for I feel a hot steam building up around my eye-lids.
“That was Talonstar,” I say to the blackness, needing to say it out loud. “He was the one who found me and my sister.”
“Was he good to you?” Hadiya asks, her voice sounding warm and inviting. It calms me.
“No,” I whisper back. “I thought he was. But he really wasn’t.”
A soft paw drifts over my flank. “All clan leaders are given knowledge on the cursed by StarClan. It became a requirement after the Blood Wars between the tribe and the valley cats.”
“I’m not surprised,” I say bitterly. “He tricked me…all those seasons… it all makes sense now. I’m happy it was me who murdered him.”
Silence, and then: “Did you know? Before this?”
The steam slips out from under my eye-lids, and tears begin to drip down my cheeks.
“No,” I gasp, grinding my jaws together to keep the sobs back. “No, I didn’t know my clan leader used me.”
I feel the whisper of the grass as Hadiya moves away.
“Innocence,” she says, her voice drifting. “That was the soul shard.”
I laugh bitterly, covering my face with my fore-leg. “I never knew I had any.”
Chapter Six
[ coming soon!]
Chapter Seven
[ coming soon!]
Chapter Eight
[ coming soon!]
Chapter Nine
[ coming soon!]
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