I carry the small Nekomata though the town. I make sure to have him on display to everyone. Everyone needs to see and know that he is one of us, just very young. One of the first young ones that we have ever found and took in. I am glad Veronica keep pestering me to check the capital. I lost the betting pool, I put in that it was a Lich.

My first guess that I was wrong was betting against the Gazer. Never bet against someone with that many eyes. They can usually see better than you.

I put the small cat on the dirt road in the middle of the forest. He is puffed up with green necrotic flames dancing around his tail, feet, and his teeth. This gets most people attention. I use people losely.

I reach into Veronica’s bag fetching one more of her rations and slowly place it down on the ground. I really hope we can teach him about words before he starts infulcing the undead and spirits that live here and in the forest.

Most people keep their distance. The few other children we have around are staring at the cat with eyes full of wonder. Others are simply interested in their new neighbor. I see a look of fear form a fairy but that is to be understood. Your anthesis is standing in front of you with a piece of beef jerky in its mouth. Flames that would do worse than simply burn your wood is dancing VERY close to the earth. Being small means being closer to the earth.

“Everyone, I am going to ask for volunteers to rise this child of death. He has potential, but he has lacked guidance and understanding of what he is.” Thankfully Veronica speaks up for me, “This one looks to be a difficult one. It might take decades but from what I have seen it is a kind cat. Very friendly to humans and willing to walk right up to most people. I think the new area and all the commention is scaring it. Please, go to your homes and think about taking this child in.”

This happens when we find one that is feral but still workable. To civilize them in part at least. There are few here that do not age. Others that have lived longer than elf elders. All wanting a quiet and peaceful life, even if it is just for a bit. I like the quiet. I love my home.

Everyone backs off and goes to their homes. Agreements with dyrids and fairies have let us live in their trees, making it conform to our needs while we care for our homes health. The cat has calmed down. He still looks around very wearly, creeping low to the ground with his ears flat and the piece of meat rotted but it does not seem to mind. In fact he eats it.

Feral indeed.

A few hours pass. He explores. Most watch from their homes as he prowls like a small hunting machine. He has already caught and eaten quite a few birds. I think he is confusing the feeling of hunger and of enjoyment of intaking other creatures mana… He can be taught not to in time, or to be careful.

At least he eats everything down to the bones.

A few people walk out.

A dyrid, A old Lich, another kitsune, and a dragon in human form through a polymorph spell.

“Greeting Elder Damenic.” They all saw and bow to me. In unity. I still think they practice that behind my back.

“Greetings everyone. Remember this is not an auction. We are here to help him, not control the path of his life.” They all nod in agreement.

The kitsune rises one of his eye brows though, “How do we know it is a he?”

“He has balls, Monthrol.” This got a chuckle out of the others. With the smaller amount of people and the fact that its food is now not in danger, the nekomata walks ups to most of us, rubbing all over our pant legs or simply bare skin… or bones as with Skelly. He actually seems to enjoy the Lich. Purring loud enough to be heard form about eight feet away.

“Kekeke, looks like the kitty likes his fellow kin quite a lot.” I watch as the dwarfen lich bows down, petting the cat. It is hard to see it as anything but a very cold cat with odd colored eyes. But the green flames it summoned when it was feeling fear as proof enough of its race.

“Old bag of bones. I think it just sees something that it is use to. Hunted in the capital for half a year before we found it. The entire time, not a single undead bothered it. I am looking out for you bibliophile, he can influence the undead skillfully and naturally that he has no trama with them.” The ancient dragon crosses his arms, looking at the cat with a stern gaze. A good strict teacher, one who knows harsh love well. But not what we need.

“Darzuis. I do not think you are a good fit for him at this point in time.” The dragon nods.

“I trust your judgement Elder Damenic.”

I shift my gaze to the other two. A motherly dyrid, and a grandfatherly kitsune. I’ll save Skelly as a backup. There is a legitimate fear about his controlling the Lich, even if he is not aware about it. Monthrol is a eight tailed kitsune. Close to his ninth if his bosting is to be taken as truth. He has been here a long time. Helped raise many children, but not such a problem case as this little headache, “Maybe Monthrol...But I think Elswood would be the fit for our needs right now.”

“I understand. I do need sleep some days, I am not a spirit like the two.” He laughs and leaves to his house. The Lich bows as well, leaving me, Elswood, and the little terror in the clearing.

“Take good care of him. Make sure he ends up becoming something that could pass off as human, even for a short while.”

“He is beyond nature’s caring grasp. But, his soul rest well endowed in the spirit’s care.” Her eid speaking. He is a tangible spirit, powerful in magic with a potential that is rarely seen, even among us horrors that lie in rest. Biding our time till we are needed.

~~~

I set the cat down on the wooden floor. He immediately begins to explore. I watch as he settles under a table that has a decent amount of sunshine.

“I wonder what I shall name you spirit.”

He looks up at me but sets his head down on his paws. Laying in a way that seems to be comfortable to him, “You seem to be what that kingdom called a Royal Empurror...Clever word play...Wonder how long it took them to come up with it.” The only thing nobel about this cat is how pleasant he makes laying around look.

I speak to nature. I speak in the tongue of the spirits. A universal language. No matter what. You understand it. It is a truth of life, “Hello small one, I am Elswood. I am a friend. Is there anything that you would like?”

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The little cat purrs. He sniffs around, heading to the door while staring at a bird.

“Repeat, use your mouth. Birb.”

“Burrb.” He licks his jowls. I wonder why he hungers. He is dead. The dead know no hunger.

“Good.” I open the door and let him hunt.

He still has nature in his mind and spirit. A small hunter, but a hunter nonetheless. He uses every bit of the body, nature will not complain. It is everything's place in the world.

~~~

A few months past. He speaks in the common tongue. His word choice is lacking but that will solve itself in time. A few weeks in, Damenic spoke to me about lessening his hunting habits. Apparently a few species have not been spotted since he has arrived.

We have also taught him not to hunt tails attached to humans. We were all surprised when the little spirit savagely pounced on Monthrol’s tail. For its size, it is a hunter. Never gave up the hunt till someone picked him up and calmed him down with a piece of jerky. Almost everyone carries a piece of it now to help kindly calm him. He is still more beast than man. It does a beast of his nature no good when you treat it like a human child.

He can speak. But rarely does. The others are worried if we found him simply too late. I believe he is just lazy. One of the others pointed out as well that he resembles a Royal Empurror. A spoiled kind of cat that are kept only for the prestige attached to their name. So, this is a royal, pampered cat who found the joy of hunting. A beast that has awakened his instincts and does not wish to let them go.

I have done what I believe I could. What he needs is an enlightened mind. Not a being so closely entwined to the world, and nature’s will. No matter how much it pains me to let him go. He started to call me mother. I am not cold. Nature is nutrating. I do not wish to give up the mantiptive little spirit. But it is for him, to better him.

He used my leg as a scratching post, it did not hurt, simply amusing. He brought me birds and small creatures that he has caught. He has ‘slept’ with me every night. Slept as in lied down on a thing that the others call a bed and simply rested. It was relaxing. A new hobby once my chores and duties are done.

Such a strange creature of death and spirit. Acts so alive yet nothing but a imprint on the world. Nothing real, a simple spirit twisted and corrupted with age and decay.

But is easy to forget that. With how rare he speaks, you can easily just see a beast with midnight fur and a mangled tip of a tail.

“Ebony, come here.” He has learned most basic words. A quick and wise learner in the short time that we have been together.

I watch as he gracefully weaves through the chair legs like a hunter in a dense forest. His body moves quickly, silently, gracefully. No wonder so many birds and animals have died around us, we have brought and let loose a predator with no interaction with life, beyond what he wills.

“We will be going to Fylson. He will be teaching you form now on. You can come here as often as you like my little spirit. This will always be a home to you.”

“Yus mather.” He nods his little head. Such a quiet, nice little boy.

I pick him up. I rest his legs on my arms as his tail wraps around my bicep. I was thought this was a proper way to hold a cat. Support the front and back paws to the point the cat can comfortably put weight on it. I carry him through the village. Most of those with tails puff up upon seeing the hunting demon. But most friendly greet us both. Even a few of the children follow us form a distance, trying to touch his midnight fur.

Ebony begins to purr, lazily holding his head up to see where we are going. His features similar to the royal family, even on a different face you can see the resemblance to the faces in the paintings of the town hall, showing off the king and his family.

Is that why they have the name royal in their breed name?

We stop outside of a old and undead tree. A tree spirit that died and Fylson in his knowledge and power brought cursed life back to the tree. Some of the nature was against it but the blight has never spread from the land that he was given so it has been tolerated.

I stop outside of the blight, putting Ebony down on the cursed soil. His fur became slicker. The edges of his features sharper, his paws actually act with the ground. Looking at him now, he looks more real. But it is not a surprise. He a spirit yet a undead. The blight feds him, nurtures his soul and form. Cursed magic, but it sustains him. I shall tolerate it. Nature can endure, anything.

“Fylson, it is time for you to do your part.” I do not need to yell. The lich is aware of almost everything in our hamlet of monsters. A good security system, and a good secret keeper.

The rotten and moss covered wood snake back on itself. Form the perfect tree and wood is now a doorway. Ebony carefully treads over to the skeleton, his eyes focused on the skeleton’s pocket. There are few sentient undead that can live without hatred for everything living, that can be not evil.

Nekomatas are rare as well, much rarer than the kitsune because of the requirements for their birth and the fact they can not breed like the kitsune. Even though they are quite similar. Nekomata are simply more spirit than they are flesh. Magic creatures, not ones born from nature. Just a by products of it and the spirits acting together. A form of decay in a otherwise harmonious balance.

“Kekekeke, hello there little Ebony. I am a bit cross with you taking the Dyraid name over KittyBone the Magnecifect.” The Lich takes out a snack and tosses it out near the cat. He leaps in the air, flying and catching it. Than he runs to a thicker patch of dead grass where his purrs of joy are louder than the bird calls.

“If he wishes to visit Fyl-”

“Kekekeke, That is not my name anymore. I like Skelly a lot more.” I nod. I turn around and begin to walk to my home. I look back for just a moment, seeing the cat purr in the grass makes me feel like he will be alright. Better most likely among someone like him, not a being that is almost the oppsitie.

~~~

“Kekeke, Greetings Ebony.” I croch over the patch of grass the little soul is trying his damndest to hide in while making a racket with that purring sound, “That plant just let you run wild, didn't she? I am amazed a creature could instill such trama in beings that could end nations.” He looks up and meet my eyes. If I had eyes that is! Kekekeke.

Such odd color eyes. Like ice.

“Well, we have a lot of things to do. Going to work our hands down to the bone. Kekekeke.”

“I do not have hands.” He tilts his head as I pick him up. Clever little thing. Knows little words but can call me out like the best at his age! I am going to enjoy this!

“Well, Necromancy is basically playing with magic and bones. We can easily make you a pair with a bit of flesh that we can wear down till them sparkling whites are on display.” He has not stopped purring even after I picked him up. The blight feeding him in a way I think only killing has done. Everyone can steal essence and improve their power and bodies by killing, “You are going to like it here young soul. No more feeling hungry. No more of that wicked tiredness. We are undead! Are we tire not!” I walk into my tree. I force my will of the magic in the air, in the soil and in the spirit of the world. A feat that would leave most arch mages with their jaws on the ground, I use to close my door! “Kekekekeke.”

“You are odd. Like the still men, but you move.” He squrims in my arms, easily escaping it and falling to the ground. These old bones are not strong and my forearm bone was apparently big enough for him to squeeze through.

“You are odder young nekomata. We will work on your magic.”

“That green fire stuff that sometimes happens when I am hunting? … Also I am not odd! I am cute and adorable! Mother and everyone else said so!” He begins to walk in the middle of my legs, swirling and turning like water to dance RIGHT where it would inconvenience me. Little soul is with the master of annoyances. This poor, navie amature.

“Oh you poor thing. You think dancing in the middle of my feet is going to annoy me?” I would of smirked if I had my lips!

I speak to the spirits of air. The ones who hold magic and I ask for it. I have worked up a wonderful relationship with those little bastards so I simply fly above the little tripping machine, “Tsk.” He looks away and begins to explore as I rattle my bones to mock him, “How is magic going to help me?”

“Because the goal is for you to live a lifetime outside of the hamlet. Any way you like. You could come back if you like, or continue to live! There is no pressure boy. Your unlife is yours! I am the only one here qualified.”

“Did you not want to help raise me?”

“...Tsk. Gifted for your age.”

“Mama said I was a smart and agile hunter! I could take what I like form the forest and the forest had no right to complain as I am the best hunter in the forest!” He… puffs up his chest, tilting his head back with his nose pointed up. Like a little royal. No wonder the draid folded in so easy with this little thing. However my will not break! My bones however I make no promises. I do not want to have to replace my toes...again. I still can not find where he hide them after our first meeting!

“Well mister gifted kitty. How about you assume a human shape!” The kitty lowers his head tilting it to the side. His little ears are standing straight up but he looks so confused.

“How do I do that?”

“Magic has much to do with the forces we call spirits. Some are liked, some are loved, some are hated. They have personalities, you can fall in and out of favor with them with your actions. You can call spirits of what the general public call narcotic spirits. But in the long, long, long time I have lived little kitty, I think there is more to it.” I grin, or I would of if I had a face!

“Like what old bones?” He tilts his head. Eyes unblinking and straight at me. I got his attention! Now the hard part will be keeping it, young things like him are so fickle. A good few hundred years in the soil will do him some good!

“This does not leave this room young nekomata. It has been the culmination of my entire life, and you are the only one I have meet far enough that is in tune with the needed spirits to actually make use of this.”

“Why so serious?” He looks away and starts to lick his fur, damn brat. I was trying to make it dramatic! I am suppose to be your old, wise, and wonderful mentor that you reamaber for the rest of your time on this world!

“You ruin all my fun.” I cross my arms and turn away. The wind spirits get a kick of dropping me on the ground for the cat to laugh at me. He does. I grumble and stand up, wiping the dust and rot off of my robes, “I think that the Necromancy spirits are actually a culmination. I think they have, at the very basic level soul, death, and decay.”

“Ok. It seems like what I know.”

“See! Smart cat, you are a smart cat to understand the complexities of the spirits and how many of them can act together as a force that we can not see how the basics of them acting together makes even greater forces much greater than the parts that they are made of! KEkekekeke! Come young one! I will make you the greatest necromancer since the drunken king of the graveyard!”

“Ok old bones, can I have another snack?”

“..Here.”