A Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Sʟɪᴄᴇ ᴏғ 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 - ᴬ ᵒᶰᵉ⁻ˢʰᵒᵗ
Apr 3, 2017 16:33:18 GMT -5
mintedstar/fur, ~Sapphire~, and 1 more like this
Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Apr 3, 2017 16:33:18 GMT -5
I wrote this one-shot a year or so ago. It's my favorite of what I've written in the Warriors world. I wrote it for a contest run by Tuesday called Tuesday Challenges. It was an amazing weekly one-shot contest, and Tuesday ran it with great efficiency and always gave great feedback. I believe I won second place one week with this piece. I have always held a special place in my heart for it, as it combines cats from the warriors world with fantasy, my favorite genre. So I decided to repost it here on the new forums with a few modification, for a new generation of writers here to enjoy, or for those who remember it to reread.
{--Him--}
It’s dark.
I am nothing but a shadow, an apparition of the night. The cold doesn’t bother me.
I am a master of stealth. I have power, and I am greatly feared.
My victims know me well. I murmur to them when they are sleeping, when they are least expecting it.
I tell them that I am coming.
I tell them that a predator is coming to claim them.
Dark. So dark.
There is no moon.
The trees loom above me.
My son is shivering; I can feel his small tremors.
It’s freezing out, but I don’t notice it much.
My heart is pounding, my legs pumping. The bundle of fur I am carrying in my mouth sways rhythmically as I move.
Swish.
Swish.
Tonight, he is coming to see me.
Tonight, he is coming to see his son.
I can feel the life forces swelling around me, dimmed in sleep. They are so innocent, so peaceful. So vulnerable, the little mortals.
I could snuff out their lives in an instant if I wished; so it is to be a god.
I have a mission tonight, one that my master has given me.
So I make my way slowly towards the trainee's den, my movements long and languid. I am in no hurry.
I’m coming to see you soon, little one.
I can feel the energy swelling around me; I know that soon he will be here.
I set down the little kitten in my mouth, gathering moss around him.
He mewls plaintively against the cold, and I nuzzle him gently.
My son is too cold. I rub his frail body with my paws.
He is so young and vulnerable. He is so small. So incredibly innocent.
Please hurry, I think. Be here soon.
She looks so calm in sleep, her long fur a white silken waterfall spilling across the moss of her nest.
“I’ve finally come,” I whisper, dipping my head. “Princess Mist?”
Her eyelids flutter open.
“Mama?” she mewls, casting around for her mother, the Queen.
And I tilt my head slowly as she takes in my dark, gray fur and shining scarlet eyes. “No, dearie, it’s me,” I tell her slowly, my voice sweet and low. “Your nightmare.”
She opens her mouth to scream, her face a mask of terror as she recognizes the tom that has been haunting her dreams.
I slash my tail through the air and use my abilities to silence her cry.
She will be easy prey, another opportunity to hone my power.
A dusty gray figure melts fluidly out of the shadows, its ice blue eyes glinting ever so slightly in the dim lighting.
I smile at my former lover. “Hello, Sommion.”
My son stirs in his nest. “Mama?” he asks, his voice weak.
“Yes, Reed,” I tell him, my voice soothing. “Don’t worry, soon you’ll be out of the cold.” I let none of the worry for his sickly state creep into my voice.
Then, I turn back to the newcomer.
His face is hidden in gloom. His fur is an ever-shifting patchwork of black and sleepy grays.
“So, you’ve truly come,” I say.
“Yes, I have,” he answers, his deep voice cold. “Though I know not why I should waste anymore time with you.”
He looms above me, a scowl on his face.
I crouch low before him, lowering my eyes submissively. “I have come make an offer, a suggestion to you, my love,” I murmur.
He slashes his hand suddenly, and an invisible force slams into me, forcing me to stumble backwards.
“I am not ‘your love’, Rose,” he snarls, a fire in his eyes flaring. “Your unfaithfulness ended everything we had together. I am to be addressed as ‘my lord’ from now on. Do you understand?”
I glare back at him, silent.
“Do you?” His eyes glow bright with unearthly power, and I catch a glimpse of his godly form.
“Of course, my lord,” I answer, gritting my teeth and biting back a retort. I cannot ruin this opportunity.
“Good, Rose. Now what is it your petty little heart desires?”
I force her out to the clearing, my claws at her throat.
Her eyes are wide with fear, and for a moment, I hesitate.
She has committed no crime. It is her father’s fault. She is nothing more than a kit.
I curse myself for these thoughts. I cannot show weakness.
I am merely following orders. I have to do this.
“Your father neglected to honor the gods properly, Princess Mist,” I purr into her ears.
“And he will pay tonight.”
“You can call me Cauchior.” I see the recognition in her eyes at the name, and her horror grows.
Her screams are silent.
I hope he has his satisfaction.
“Sommion, please, our son. He’s weak, dying... We’ve already lost our daughter to sickness. Won’t you at least save Reed?”
“You think wrong, Rose. He is your son. Not mine. I am immortal; he is not,” he tells me, his voice emotionless.
“Well, I also thought you had a heart,” I snap. “Was I wrong about that, too?”
“You have little understanding as a mere she-cat, Rose. You do not, cannot, apprehend the ways of the gods.”
I blink in hesitation, eyes wide with desperation and frustration.
I take a deep breath, and then stare him in the eyes.
I must not show weakness.
Words fly out of my mouth without my consent.
“Sommion, I beg you. He can serve you in whatever way you wish. You can give him immortality if you want Reed to work forever. Just-just save him.”
I immediately regret my offer.
Sommion smiles slowly at my suggestion, as he realizes the true implications of what I’ve just said. His eyes glimmer an otherworldly, gauzy white, and an unnaturally wide grin creeps onto his face.
For once, I see him for what he truly is.
It hits me hard.
He is not a dashing tom magical powers.
He was never my prince charming, coming to sweep me off my feet and take me away. He is not a regular father.
He is not mortal.
He is the god of sleep, restrained by no true moral or physical boundaries.
I want to scream.
How could I have been so stupid? By the natural laws of interaction written by Essence, the great mother goddess herself, I have given him permission to take my son as a thrall, a slave to his every whim.
Forever.
And by those same laws, I cannot take it back.
She will be a lesson, if a cruel one.
I will visit the king in his dreams, whisper his sins into his ears over and over again. He will know that his foolish actions have caused this.
As I turn to go, I fight the urge to give her a proper burial.
This is wrong.
No, it is my duty.
This is simply an obligation that I must fulfill. If I do not, my master will punish me. This is not a decision, but my job.
My identity.
I am Cauchior, commander of nightmares and avenger of the gods.
It’s merely who I am.
Fate has left me broken and battered.
Fate is cruel.
Sommion knows the pain that mention of our son causes me.
He whispers to me in my sleep, gloating.
I catch glimpses of Reed in slumber, and sometimes I think I can see his ghostly figure.
But he is not the sweet kit I know anymore.
My foolish words have allowed his father to twist him into a servant of evil. Sommion has stripped my son of his identity, turned him into a monster.
Now Reed is a thing of nightmares; no, he is the nightmares.
He goes by a new name.
Cauchior.
He is a god.
“Sleep, those little slices of death – how I loathe them.” - Edgar Allan Poe
{--Him--}
I am nothing but a shadow, an apparition of the night. The cold doesn’t bother me.
I am a master of stealth. I have power, and I am greatly feared.
My victims know me well. I murmur to them when they are sleeping, when they are least expecting it.
I tell them that I am coming.
I tell them that a predator is coming to claim them.
{--Her--}
It’s dark out tonight.Dark. So dark.
There is no moon.
The trees loom above me.
My son is shivering; I can feel his small tremors.
It’s freezing out, but I don’t notice it much.
My heart is pounding, my legs pumping. The bundle of fur I am carrying in my mouth sways rhythmically as I move.
Swish.
Swish.
Tonight, he is coming to see me.
Tonight, he is coming to see his son.
{--Him--}
I slip through past the guards into the camp, head down, hidden in inky shadows.I can feel the life forces swelling around me, dimmed in sleep. They are so innocent, so peaceful. So vulnerable, the little mortals.
I could snuff out their lives in an instant if I wished; so it is to be a god.
I have a mission tonight, one that my master has given me.
So I make my way slowly towards the trainee's den, my movements long and languid. I am in no hurry.
I’m coming to see you soon, little one.
{--Her--}
I steal into the clearing quietly.I can feel the energy swelling around me; I know that soon he will be here.
I set down the little kitten in my mouth, gathering moss around him.
He mewls plaintively against the cold, and I nuzzle him gently.
My son is too cold. I rub his frail body with my paws.
He is so young and vulnerable. He is so small. So incredibly innocent.
Please hurry, I think. Be here soon.
{--Him--}
I hover over the small, sleeping she-cat, smiling ever so slightly.She looks so calm in sleep, her long fur a white silken waterfall spilling across the moss of her nest.
“I’ve finally come,” I whisper, dipping my head. “Princess Mist?”
Her eyelids flutter open.
“Mama?” she mewls, casting around for her mother, the Queen.
And I tilt my head slowly as she takes in my dark, gray fur and shining scarlet eyes. “No, dearie, it’s me,” I tell her slowly, my voice sweet and low. “Your nightmare.”
She opens her mouth to scream, her face a mask of terror as she recognizes the tom that has been haunting her dreams.
I slash my tail through the air and use my abilities to silence her cry.
She will be easy prey, another opportunity to hone my power.
{--Her--}
A dusty gray figure melts fluidly out of the shadows, its ice blue eyes glinting ever so slightly in the dim lighting.
I smile at my former lover. “Hello, Sommion.”
My son stirs in his nest. “Mama?” he asks, his voice weak.
“Yes, Reed,” I tell him, my voice soothing. “Don’t worry, soon you’ll be out of the cold.” I let none of the worry for his sickly state creep into my voice.
Then, I turn back to the newcomer.
His face is hidden in gloom. His fur is an ever-shifting patchwork of black and sleepy grays.
“So, you’ve truly come,” I say.
“Yes, I have,” he answers, his deep voice cold. “Though I know not why I should waste anymore time with you.”
He looms above me, a scowl on his face.
I crouch low before him, lowering my eyes submissively. “I have come make an offer, a suggestion to you, my love,” I murmur.
He slashes his hand suddenly, and an invisible force slams into me, forcing me to stumble backwards.
“I am not ‘your love’, Rose,” he snarls, a fire in his eyes flaring. “Your unfaithfulness ended everything we had together. I am to be addressed as ‘my lord’ from now on. Do you understand?”
I glare back at him, silent.
“Do you?” His eyes glow bright with unearthly power, and I catch a glimpse of his godly form.
“Of course, my lord,” I answer, gritting my teeth and biting back a retort. I cannot ruin this opportunity.
“Good, Rose. Now what is it your petty little heart desires?”
{--Him--}
I force her out to the clearing, my claws at her throat.
Her eyes are wide with fear, and for a moment, I hesitate.
She has committed no crime. It is her father’s fault. She is nothing more than a kit.
I curse myself for these thoughts. I cannot show weakness.
I am merely following orders. I have to do this.
“Your father neglected to honor the gods properly, Princess Mist,” I purr into her ears.
“And he will pay tonight.”
“You can call me Cauchior.” I see the recognition in her eyes at the name, and her horror grows.
Her screams are silent.
{--Her--}
He has forced me, a she-cat of noble birth, to beg. I hope he has his satisfaction.
“Sommion, please, our son. He’s weak, dying... We’ve already lost our daughter to sickness. Won’t you at least save Reed?”
“You think wrong, Rose. He is your son. Not mine. I am immortal; he is not,” he tells me, his voice emotionless.
“Well, I also thought you had a heart,” I snap. “Was I wrong about that, too?”
“You have little understanding as a mere she-cat, Rose. You do not, cannot, apprehend the ways of the gods.”
I blink in hesitation, eyes wide with desperation and frustration.
I take a deep breath, and then stare him in the eyes.
I must not show weakness.
Words fly out of my mouth without my consent.
“Sommion, I beg you. He can serve you in whatever way you wish. You can give him immortality if you want Reed to work forever. Just-just save him.”
I immediately regret my offer.
Sommion smiles slowly at my suggestion, as he realizes the true implications of what I’ve just said. His eyes glimmer an otherworldly, gauzy white, and an unnaturally wide grin creeps onto his face.
For once, I see him for what he truly is.
It hits me hard.
He is not a dashing tom magical powers.
He was never my prince charming, coming to sweep me off my feet and take me away. He is not a regular father.
He is not mortal.
He is the god of sleep, restrained by no true moral or physical boundaries.
I want to scream.
How could I have been so stupid? By the natural laws of interaction written by Essence, the great mother goddess herself, I have given him permission to take my son as a thrall, a slave to his every whim.
Forever.
And by those same laws, I cannot take it back.
{--Him--}
I leave her body, broken and battered, just within the palace gates. It’s nasty and gruesome.She will be a lesson, if a cruel one.
I will visit the king in his dreams, whisper his sins into his ears over and over again. He will know that his foolish actions have caused this.
As I turn to go, I fight the urge to give her a proper burial.
This is wrong.
No, it is my duty.
This is simply an obligation that I must fulfill. If I do not, my master will punish me. This is not a decision, but my job.
My identity.
I am Cauchior, commander of nightmares and avenger of the gods.
It’s merely who I am.
{--Her--}
Fate has left me broken and battered.
Fate is cruel.
Sommion knows the pain that mention of our son causes me.
He whispers to me in my sleep, gloating.
I catch glimpses of Reed in slumber, and sometimes I think I can see his ghostly figure.
But he is not the sweet kit I know anymore.
My foolish words have allowed his father to twist him into a servant of evil. Sommion has stripped my son of his identity, turned him into a monster.
Now Reed is a thing of nightmares; no, he is the nightmares.
He goes by a new name.
Cauchior.
He is a god.