Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.
-Seneca
Where the bleak, vast blanket of space and the universes ended this story began. A luminous streak of cyan slowly glossed across the quilt of the known cosmos, like a boat across a star-lit pond. Most likely because quite literally within this surreal beam rested a rickety old wooden boat, with a carved figurehead at the bow that looked like that of a compass rose. Further and further the vessel drifted and exited the end of the cosmos and into the tar black field of nothing.
The cyan cloak was casted off and the boat carried on in the seemingly empty vastness. Had anyone been awake on the vessel that moment would have felt like years, decades even before any hope showed a sign of existing.
----------------------------------------
It was a squawk above that disturbed the passenger. He was a middle-aged shepherd, his snout and hands a coal grey and his body a peach-cream. He blinked and groaned as the blinding light of a sun beamed down from above. He crawled underneath the stern-thwart of the boat. The canid cowered underneath the thwart till his sight grew used to the light.
A gentle breeze caused him to shudder which in turn made him realise his lack of clothing. The canid’s cheeks flared scarlet as he glanced about the burden boards for anything to conceal his nudity until his green eyes landed on a pile of rags at the stem post just opposite of his side. Slowly, he came out from underneath his shell and tried to stand only to nearly stumble overboard. Grasping the gunwale, the canid crept over to the bow of the boat and grabbed the rags. He donned a stone-coloured cotte and a broken down pair of brais before he sat on the nearby thwart and looked around the horizon. Nothing but water and the sky for all his vision carried.
The canid turned his attention to himself. Arm extended, he examined the fur that covered it and brought the hand of the opposite arm up to feel it. The texture felt so alien to him; the canid had become so immersed with the sight that he failed to notice how close his face was until his long snout touched it. His eyes widened and he looked over the boat’s side to his watery reflection below. The canid felt like a blender of feelings; curious, terrified, confused, and excited all at once.
Where am I? He thought to himself, Better yet, who or what am I?!
He was granted no answer. He tried desperately to think of his past only to find he had
none, he tried to think of the face of his mother --if he had one--, there was nothing. His ears
drooped hopelessly.
Ok, ok, he reasoned to himself, we have no clue who we are, so let's at least find out where
we are.
Again, he turned back to the horizon with a frantic gaze only again to not see any sign of land anywhere. There was another squawk from above and he turned toward its source. A seagull flapped above the boat with interest; it squawked once more. The canid looked up, confused that his right ear perked up. With no clear advantage of usage, the seagull flapped again and started to fly ahead of the vessel.
Pest, the canid thought, and returned to his previous task. Right, I can try to guess which way north is… wait, if that bird is this far out that means wherever he’s heading… yes he must have a nest nearby, and if there’s a nest there’s land nearby!
He quickly located where the seagull had gone, still just a little ways ahead of the boat. He looked back into the boat to see if there was something he could make a sail with, but was disappointed only to find oars.
I guess it could be worse, he thought.
With a sigh, the canid took hold of the oars and sat himself on the centre thwart before he started rowing after the seagull with an hopeful tail swaying behind him.
----------------------------------------
The secluded northern mountain range, which were known as the Mystic Peaks for its most known inhabitants and separated the realm of Kweth from the rest of the world of Grossheim, housed an astonishing temple. It had been constructed around a tree since the roof was covered by its gargantuan foliage. The wooden walls were even carved with sayings marked in Runix along with murals. Within it were the required sections to meet the established rooms needed to make a temple.*
In one of the sleeping quarters rested a rather exhausted young cheetah –at least young for the temple's inhabitants; she was ninety-nine. Her room had been built just beside the tree and thus the corner of her room seemed as if it had grown right through it. She did not have any issues with this factor however, since she liked to sleep in peculiar places and simply just hung a hammock from the topmost branches.
The feline tossed and turned, letting a purr or two slip from her lips as she tried to rest. This ended all at once with a light knock at her door. She sighed with a flick of her tail and cursed under her breath: “Krӕst”.
“Morning to you too, Cheddar,” a feminine teaseful voice replied from the other side.
“It’s Cheera, Lűnc!” the cheetah retorted in a voice that sounded like a mix of crisp and mellifluous, as she cat-stretched in her hammock. “What message do you bear for me?”
“Who said I had one?” the voice continued to tease.
“Uhhuh,” Cheera said sarcastically, “You came all the way from the stream to my room only to tease me, huh?”
Cheera hopped down from her hammock and strutted over to her side-wing within the room. She had a desk cluttered with all kinds of unique trinkets and writings. Beside this rested shelves of even more special ingredients and books. A candle light danced in a corner of the desk as Cheera looked over her notations.
“Open up, kittykitty,” the voice called out, “I won’t speak my message until I know I’m talking with the right person.”
“You know anyone else who sleeps in this room?” Cheera retorted, and turned to her shelves and scanned her array of jars, roots, potions, and spices.
“You can never be too trusting,” the voice defended, before it became agitated, “Look, if you don’t open the door then I will.”
“Don’t!” Cheera demanded, as she took a vial of a sappy-coloured liquid and drank it with disgust.
“Three,” the voice threatened.
“I said don’t, Lűnc!” Cheera exclaimed, in a more fearful tone now.
“Two.”
“Lűnc!” Cheera cried out, and flicked her wrist
And from her palm shot a quick stream of a glittery white beam that ‘exploded’ when it impacted a white-fur hooded-cloak that rested on a rack near the door. No sooner had this occurred that the cloak flew quickly from the rack to its owner just as Lűnc said: “One.” and the bolt to the door flung open as if an invisible being had waited for the moment to do so while the door itself followed suit.
A grinning racoon, dressed in a white gown and pants with a cloak like Cheera’s, stepped in and immediately realised why her companion had begged to be left alone. Cheera clutched her cloak at her waist, covering it, and had only a white corset as her only covering.
“Goodness, Cheera!” Lűnc uttered, as she exited the room closing the door slightly not to see, “Have you not heard of decency in our temples?”
“Yeah, well I never expect anyone to burst into my room without my permission,” Cheera retorted, and gathered her own gown and pants she left strewn about the room.
“Since when have you been wearing a corset?” Lűnc questioned, curious about the cheetah’s new taste in style.
“I’ve been doing it for a while,” Cheera answered, “I only put it on at night since it helps me sleep with a straight back.”
“And nothing else?”
“I didn’t want to have to clean my fur off my clothes,” Cheera explained, “It takes too long for me.”
“You know we have spells and different clothes for that, right?” the raccoon questioned.
“No, I did not,” Cheera replied surprised.
With her pants on securely, the cheetah cast her cloak aside and closed her eyes reverently. Her hands started to glow and she moved them as if handling something while behind her the bindings of her corset began to be undone.
“Anyways, why are you here?” Cheera asked, her eyes still shut.
“Uh, wait, give me a moment,” Lűnc replied, “Oh yeah, Master Aritot wishes your presence in the Sanctuary.”
“See that was not so hard now, was it?” Cheera teased.
Lűnc chuckled and glanced back in. Cheera had cast aside her corset and donned her gown along with her cloak. The cheetah ruffled her hair and moved strands of it out of her face before she pulled her hood on and slipped her paws into a brown pair of ankle boots.
“What does he want from me?” she asked, and shut the door behind her.
“Know him not yet? He never says what his intentions are,” Lűnc answered, “Quite a mysterious warlock he is, a bit out there, you know?
“Oh, I have heard you finally enrolled in the Defence arts,” the raccoon commented with a piqued interest, “I was wondering when you would decide to take it up.”
“Well, not necessarily,” Cheera replied nervously, flattered by her companion’s words, “Thomas, being the clever bastard he is, somehow undid my forgery-prevention spell and put in my name while I was busy in the Archives.”
“Haha!” Lűnc chuckled, “That mutt; said he intended to do it he did. He argued that you should learn such arts in times like these, did not think he meant it. Have you seen him since?”
“Oh, yes indeed,” Cheera answered, “On that matter, he actually waited in his room for me. Goodness, I would have jumped on that trickster and clawed him, had he not had his stupid cute smile on.”
“I knew you liked him,” Lűnc jested.
“Lűnc!” Cheera whined, with scarlet cheeks and embarrassed tail sways, “I told you to stop that! I don’t like him like that.”
“Riiiiigght,” Lűnc said, “What about the time he gave you a marigold?”
“Thomas told me to plant it around Laurel,” the cheetah defended, “Said that she could use some beauty.”
“All right, all right, suit yourself,” Lűnc replied with a wave of her hand, “How goes your tale-making?”
“Painfully,” Cheera huffed, “I have been working on the tale of Creation but I fear I’m doing a poor job reciting it.”
“Aw, don’t be too hard on yourself, sweety,” Lűnc comforted her counterpart, and playfully petted the cheetah.
“Purr…” Cheera replied blissfully, before she realised what she did, “Agh! Stop it!”
“Bwhaha!” the raccoon guffawed, “Every time and it is still as hilarious as before. Ah, here you are, I wish you well and may the soles of your paws be as quick as thy wits, for I fear he grows impatient.”
“And I return such kind words with similar well-tidings,” Cheera replied, and watched as her friend carried on down the corridor.
The cheetah turned to her right and beheld a double-arched tripartite door twice as tall as her. Among the panels of the wooden gateway were murals, each focused on a heroic tale or tragic scene. With a firm grasp on the door knocker which worked for a handle, opened the huge door before slipping inside silently.
The Sanctuary’s casual aroma flooded Cheera’s nostrils upon entrance. The room was as big as any atrium but as was accustomed for all Meɪguild temples it was built with the Gâsct Cʁuk, or Sacred Tree at the centre. A stream poured in from an opening that was made for it to flow uphill into moats dug around the base of the tree. The room itself was at a giant width but its height went up till it was just beneath the foliage with its roof made in a rib vault manner. The only source of light were the few candle-lit lanterns stationed about and the few fireflies that flew about, leaving an amber colour that illuminated the room only slightly.
Cheera walked about the stone walkways and looked about the familiar garden-like space, with a few creatures stalking here and there. Once she descended the three steps into the landing before the Cʁuk, she looked about for her summoner.
“Master Aritot?” Cheera called out. No response.
Hopping over the moat before the Cʁuk, or whom she called Laurel -for the Cʁuk while inanimate in movement and speaking, sang to indicate they were alive- and drew near her trunk respectfully.
“Hux-derlevÎ, Laurel,” Cheera muttered, “may your roots be filled with the purest water which He hath brought forth for you.”
There was a quick chirp from nearby, not like that of a bird or anything known but beautiful unto itself. The cheetah looked around to make sure no one else was in the room; there was not. She returned to Laurel and smiled.
“Hehe,” Cheera giggled, “I’m quite alright, sorry if I hurt your branches with my weight. Master keeps saying I should get a mattress, but I prefer you more.”
Then, there was a deep bellowing sound, like if a pan-flute were a bass instrument played for a melancholic tune, and the vegetation began to wave without any wind as if inviting the cheetah toward something.
“You want to show me something?” Cheera inquired, and was responded with another chirp.
She slowly knelt before the big trunk of the tree and rested her forehead against it, bonding with it. She felt her spirit be carried away and her vision took that of Laurel’s. The horizon was beautiful, the clouds floated over the mountain pass by as the rocky features of the other mountains cluttered the far background. The moment was so ethereal to Cheera that her breath failed her.
Thud!
Cheera broke from her trance and whipped around to see a very elder-looking otter in a single purple tunic, tea-cup and saucer in his hands by the entrance of the Sanctuary. Cheera’s ears drooped in disappointment, for she knew what it meant if her Master arrived with tea; she had taken too long.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Laurel, and stood up.
“She likes you the most,” Aritot said, as Cheera hopped back to the stone landing on the other side of the moat. “Interesting that she does… I figured your cat-fat would have agitated her.”
“What is it with you all calling me a cat?” Cheera asked annoyedly, “I get it, I’m a feline but I’m not a cat.”
“Well you are the only feline in this temple,” Aritot answered, “Got to deal with what we’re given, you know?”
“I’m also not fat,” Cheera huffed, and turned her back to the otter.
“I see,” the otter said, as he placed his tea to the side where it simply levitated as if the air itself was a solid ground before he snuck up behind cheetah and playfully tickled at her upper waist while he jested: “So this is all just some illusion, eh?”
Cheera burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at every tickle until she pushed away from her Master.
“All right, all right,” she managed to gasp through gulps of air, “I might have a bit of an eating issue, but I’m not fat, okay?”
“Fine by me,” Aritot replied, and grasped his tea once more.
There then was a jovial tune that filled the room as Laurel spoke.
“Ah, see, even you admitted that you are fat,” Aritot said, “Thanks, Laurel.”
“Laurel!” the cheetah whined, having felt slightly betrayed, “Ugh…
“Why did you call for me, Master?” Cheera finally asked.
“Ah, that is right,” the otter replied, and licked his lips after his last sip, “follow me.”
Aritot led Cheera along the stone pathway until they came to a side shrubbery. Within it, rested a newly sprouted flower that seemed like a mix of a rose and a daisy while it gave off a scent like a pear and pomegranate. Cheera’s eyes widened with surprise; the flower was a unique type that only bloomed for an important occasion.
“I… does this… mean?” she stuttered, on the verge of blissful delight.
“Indeed,” Aritot answered with a smile, “A new Guardian has been sent to us, and near our realm for that matter.”
Cheera strained every nerve in her body from bursting into a huge mess of rejoice. Long had she waited to actually see Guardian, or in her case someone as similar as The Warrior. But a sturdy pat from her Master saved her the strain.
“I know how excited you are to see one,” Aritot said, “But to make sure your expectations are not too high, you must know that they seem like a layperson at first and tend to be a bit afraid since they are just new to this life.”
“When do you think he’ll come here?” Cheera inquired, and became uneasy when her master’s snout shrivelled in a kind of disgust.
“Gan Tús-willing, never,” Aritot replied, “We are about to start our classes in only a few weeks, the last thing we need is a new Guardian in the background.”
“Oh, sorry Master,” Cheera said, and looked down at her paws while she fiddled with her hands nervously.
“There, there, Cheera,” the otter reassured, “I understand, you’r-”
“Wait,” Cheera interrupted, a bit confused having processed her Master’s words, “If they’re not coming here, then how am I to see them?”
The otter was now the nervous one as he smiled a coy grin and spoke: “Well, as custom prescribes it, one is to deliver sustenance to the Guardian and guide him or her to the nearest civilisation, so…”
“Y-y-you didn’t… d-do tha-that,” Cheera stuttered, “S-surely you aren’t sending m-m-me.”
“Why not?” Aritot questioned, “You have always voiced your desire to meet one.”
“Yeah but not like that!” Cheera retorted, and flew into a frenzy to get out of the situation, “Why can’t Lűnc, or Thomas, or-or, I don’t know, any other warlock or sorceress that’s able to do it?!”
“Because they are all preparing for the classes,” Aritot elaborated, “Calm yourself, Cheera, it is not that hard of a task. Well, if you don’t find descending a mountain for half-an-hour and another half-hour strolling to the coast and down the cliffs to the beach a hard task that is.”
“No, I cannot do this,” Cheera insisted, and sat on steps of the predella, “Besides I’m busy w-”
“With what?” the otter questioned, as he sat beside his student, “The tale which you just told to Lűnc was draining you of your museful powers or berating Thomas for forging your writing-style to get you into the Defence classes?”
Cheera looked up at Aritot upon the last sentence; she knew that the otter had a way of always knowing what was going on about the temple, though how was out of her knowledge, but the last bit was not what she expected to hear. Before she could speak, the otter continued.
“Oh yes, I knew what Thomas had done,” Aritot answered, even though no question was asked, “It was not like you to sign up for such subjects, so I logically concluded that someone had surpassed your spell.
“Speaking of, if you wish for me to deny the request, I gladly wi-”
“Oh, well,” Cheera interrupted nervously, “Thomas spoke with me that it would be best if I took the classes, since it seems that a deep evil fog is brewing not a far-ways off.”
The otter looked bewildered at his student like she was someone he had never met before.
“This does not mean I wish to take them,” Cheera added quickly, “But… I am considering it, is all…”
Aritot smiled and patted Cheera on the back with great enthusiasm.
“Well, in that case I will hold on from denying the request until you have made your choice,” he said, “Now, back to the subject at hand, you are busy with these little things, that I cannot recall the last time you journeyed to go perform a noble deed or hang around a tavern with that hare scribe of yours.
“Hence I think this would be the perfect quest to get you out and about,” Aritot exclaimed, “Clear your head, maybe make a friend while also fulfilling your long awaited desire. I had Offa prepare you a meal in your satchel, part of a Yenaeȟ cheese wheel, a quarter loaf of bread, a bottle of milk, and a lamb flank. Though mind you, you must save a good amount for the Guardian.”
“I… I…” Cheera started, and began to grow insecure as her eyes watered, “I don’t think I’m worthy of doing this…”
With that, the cheetah flung herself at her master and held him in a tight embrace while her cries were muffled by his chest. The otter frowned sympathetically and hugged the sorceress though saying nothing to let her cope with her feelings.
“Sh…” Aritot whispered, “it’s alright, I’m here…”
Cheera sniffled as she got a hold of herself again. Looking into the wise old otters eyes, she felt a warm feeling fill her the more he smiled.
“Don’t ever think you can never be worthy of what is offered,” Aritot replied, “Those last few eighty-five years training you, raising you, feeding you, were not in vain. You know, when you first came to be with us nearly a century ago, we thought you were not worth helping. But Thomas argued otherwise and refused to let us make you leave until we at least raised you right. Now, I look back on those moments and I am proud of Thomas for forcing us to aid you.”
A weak smile sprouted on the cheetah’s muzzle as she recovered her voice and spoke:”Y-ye kn-know… I-I-I always… s-s-saw you as a… f-father.”
“And I always saw you as a daughter,” Aritot said, and booped her nose, “A one of kind.”
As was her rule whenever she was booped on the nose, Cheera drew close to her Master and rubbed her nose against his, earning a chuckle from the elder warlock.
“Feel better?” The otter asked.
“I suppose,” Cheera answered, “Just when do you expect that they will arrive?”
“Oh,” Aritot pondered, “Well, they tend to usually give up and think they are lost before the Charon runs ashore, which takes about two hours after they arrive. But there have been those few clever ones that reason there must be land nearby, and if they have the will to, row themselves to land. If that happens I’d say they would be ashore an hour earlier, and this flower only bloomed half-an-hour ago. But I’m sure it will be the usual so don’t worry, you have time.”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“I guess I will get going,” Cheera said, and stood up to leave, “Thank you, Master.”
“No, kitty-cat,” Aritot replied, “Thank you, and may Gan Tús guide you safely there and back.”
----------------------------------------
The morning fog covered the beach surrounded by cliffs just north-east of the Mystic Peaks. A seagull appeared from out of the misty blanket and flew until it found its nest. Not far behind the seagull was the sound of light splashes and the occasional groan of effort from the shepherd. The form of the boat pierced the fog with every heave of the oars. The canid looked over his shoulder to see the towering cliffs and directed the vessel out of their way. Slowly and slowly, the boat inched toward the sandy ground. The spirits of the weary passenger grew in a similar manner.
The soft crunch of the sand beneath the boat’s hull made the canid’s ears perk up. Leaving the oars, he stood up only to stumble and catch himself, before he jumped off the boat and onto the ground. He laid on the sandy ground for a while, silently rejoicing the victory of finding land. The canid would have rested there if his paws were not soaked by the repetitive waves.
The boat! He thought, and whirled around.
The boat remained the same as it had since it ran ashore, despite the waves passing its hull which should have caused the vessel to be dragged back out the ocean. Rather it stayed firm, like a stationed post as if it willed itself to stay. The canid looked transfixed at the vessel until a chill ran down his spine. He stood up, this time without any issues and strolled about the beach.
Around the entire beach were cliffs, it seemed perfect for an arena if one were to be built there. There were signs of vegetation on the tops, treetops poked out from overhead. But there was no visible passage out of the pit. The canid continued to search until his stomach growled at him from a lack of food. He had to find a way out soon, or he might as well starve.
Mrow
The canid looked back to the edge of the beach and saw a feral calico cat, with purple eyes watching from afar.
Where did it come from? He thought, and slowly approached the cat.
The cat remained where it sat and cleaned itself as he got closer. He glanced down the sides of the beach; there appeared to be nothing but dead ends on both sides, but from the paw prints in the sand it seemed that the cat had walked right out of the cliff itself.
“Tsk, tsk,” the canid uttered under his breath, in a gravelly, husky voice, “How did you get here?”
“Isn’t that what we all want to find out?” an orotund and resonant feminine voice whispered in his ears.
The canid’s fur perked up and he looked at the cat, which glared back at him innocently with its tail swaying behind it and softly emitted: “Mow”
“Who said that?!” the canid cried out, when he had turned back to the cliffs. He was granted no response.
The canid rubbed his arms, a cold wind had picked up and he still was hungry. He looked back at the cat, which now walked over to his legs and rubbed its head all over it as if it were a play toy. Since it seemed he would not be getting out anytime soon, the canid knelt and started to pet the cat.
“You better hope I can find my way out of here soon,” he said to the cat, “I don’t want to have to resort to eating you, but if I must I will.” He sighed. “If only you understood me, or even better, could speak to me.”
Upon his threat of devouring it, the cat had stopped its casual movement and stared intensely at the canid as he stroked its head. Once he had finished speaking, the cat opened its mouth and with perfect sync said in a similar voice as the one he heard before: “Careful what you wish for, darling.”
The canid recoiled in fear and stumbled onto his back. Before he could get up, the cat had hopped onto his chest and strutted toward him till their snouts were barely even an inch away.
“Y-you can…” the canid uttered in disbelief.
“Speak?” the cat finished, and chuckled playfully, “Yes, I know it seems bizarre to you. Since of course, you are only just fresh off the boat. But heed my words, boy, where you are now is not where you are from. You may even claim there is something magical about this place.”
Upon the word ‘magical’ a weird flare sparkled in the pupils of the cat, that enamoured the canid. Slowly, the cat hopped off him and strutted across the beach. His stomach growled again.
“Hungry are you, sailor?” the cat mewed at him, “Of course you are, and rightfully so, it must have been such a big effort just to row all the way here.”
“...Do you happen to know a way out?” the canid finally asked, his hunger too much to bear that even if it meant he had to trust this questionable cat to eat something he would do it.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, doggy,” she replied with a smirk, “Not only that, but I happen to know a trick or two that if you were to help me, you won’t have to worry about needing to get food again.”
“Then lead the way,” he insisted impatiently.
“Oh, feisty dog are you now?” the cat hissed, “I like that, but before I keep my end of the bargain, I need your word that you will help me. Do you agree to such terms?”
“Yes,” the canid replied, hesitant at first but quickly changed his mind after another growl.
“Are you honest about your word?” she asked.
“I am,” he replied.
“You are certain?” she asked again.
“As I ever will be,” he answered.
“Thou hast said so,” the cat uttered, and chuckled again.
With the transaction completed, the cat started to head the direction its paw prints first headed away from and hopped on the narrow edges of the cliff with a swift, undisturbed deminor. The canid looked worried at the cliff and worried how he was to follow.
“Worry not,” the cat called back to him, “just clutch onto the cliff and wade through the water, it isn’t that deep.”
He nodded, looked back at the boat which had brought him only briefly –it still would not move– and did as instructed; clutching to the rocky cliff-side and waded his way across.
The pair eventually reached the end of the crossing and arrived at another beach, this one however was not surrounded by any barriers, and in fact there rested a hill which would only have been a little climb. But the canid had become weary from his effort and the moment he got on shore he collapsed and huddled himself into a ball to keep warm.
“Get up,” the cat insisted, as she walked by him, “Get up, now or you shall perish.”
He groaned and turned but when a sudden stabbing-feeling trickled across his body, he jolted up and turned to see the cat retract her blood-stained talons.
“Had to do it, for your own safety,” she insisted, “Come, we are not far now, come and your hunger will be no more.”
The canid sighed and rubbed his back which stung when he touched it and looked at the dark maroon stain that marked his paw. It was only now that his reason started to doubt trusting the feline, but he also figured there was no point in turning back now. Wiping his hand, the canid followed a little ways off from the cat.
----------------------------------------
Cheera looked down onto the sandy shore below with a confused look upon her face. The Charon, so was the boat’s name, remained still; it normally did not act as such.
Her journey down the mountain was as simple as going on a walk thanks to the pass which had been made by those who journeyed before her, and since no ghouls or monsters presided in the mountain the temple rested in -at least so she had been taught. The journey toward the beach was not as easy however, when passing through the village of Kweth, she had to clutch her satchel more than once to be reassured nothing was taken. But upon reaching the cliffs, she was disappointed to see that the Guardian had disappeared, or so it seemed.
How did they get out of here? The cheetah wondered to herself, Guess I will have to find out.
Cheera looked at the ground; there was nothing but sand.
Ahg! She thought, and tried to remember, What was that spell that allowed you to make any shape from any substance? What was it, Krȇph? No… Ah, now I remember.
Stretching her arms out confidently, Cheera uttered: “FacālorÏ,” nothing seemed to happen. But then, the specks of sand slowly started to swirl and join together until enough had formed a perfect stairway to the clifftop. Cheera smiled at her work and how sturdy it looked that she couldn’t wait to walk down it.
No sooner had she taken her first step on it, however, that it gave way beneath her. The cheetah didn’t even have time to cry out as she hurtled down, rather she reached out in vain to grab onto something. Just when the impact seemed inevitable, the strap of her satchel was caught on the edge of the cliff and jolted her to a halt momentarily only for her to slip out of its grasp and continue falling. Cheera hit the beach with a soft thud!
“Ooo…” Cheera groaned, “May whomever made that satchel be cared for till their faining years.”
The brief halt had made all the difference in the injuries suffered from the fall. Cheera figured that at worst, she would have a bruise for a week or less on her shoulder but nothing a simple medical potion back at the temple couldn’t fix.
Stupid, stupid Cheera, she mentally criticised herself, you forgot the proper stance, if anything you deserved to fall.
Cheera heaved herself up, wincing in pain all the time while she shook the sand off her coat and fur, and looked up at where her satchel hung fifteen feet overhead. She raised her uninjured arm and curled her hand while the satchel appeared to be pulled off the rock which snagged it. Slowly, it descended until it reached the ground. Cheera picked it up and replaced it over her shoulder. Cheera turned and approached the still immobile boat.
Maybe they are still asleep on it, she reasoned, Yeah, that makes sense.
Climbing aboard, the cheetah only grew more confused to see it empty. She heaved the oars onboard, assuming that this might also be the cause, but still the Charon did not move. Cheera turned and started to move toward the bow when her foot kicked something hard that it rattled across the wooden floor of the boat and under the forward-thwart. Ears perked up, she looked beneath the thwart and saw an oval-shaped object with a rope strand through it.
Grabbing the object, Cheera recognized it was a stone of sorts and pulled it out. The stone was a pumice stone with writing etched onto it. She realised what it was, a name tag; every Guardian had one in the clothes that were prepared onboard and had their name written on it.
Must have dropped it, Cheera thought, or could have fallen out, in which case whoever was aboard probably has no clue who they are, poor fellow.
The cheetah turned the stone over and saw three different translations of the title it bore, the first in the Sacrosanct language, the second in Runix, and the third in Common which read: Nexus.
Ah, so the Guardian is male, Cheera deduced with a smile, and placed the stone into her satchel before hopping off the Charon.
No sooner did she exit the vessel that it embarked from the sand shore and back to the ocean. Cheera watched as it vanished into the fog and from her sight before she turned away. But as she looked at the ground, she noticed the outlined paw prints that moved toward the cliffside, with a smaller pair beside them.
What in the… she pondered, the more she inspected the prints, Where did he go? Swim? Well that’s bold of him, but whose tracks are these? They are too small to belong to any person no matter how young… most likely an animal then, and judging by the print formations it is a feline… but where would a cat have come fr… oh… no… no!
Cheera’s fur perked up in fear and she scanned her surroundings with her ears drooped.
A witch, her mind cried out in a frenzy, but they don’t come out this far and early, at least, last I checked… Oh, why did it have to be me?! Even worse, the Guardian is with one… It wouldn’t be too late to return to the temple would it? What kind of thought is that?! A person is in an unknown peril, and you are just gonna turn your back on him? But then again, it is a witch, not just any kind but one powerful enough to alter her being, if not others… agh, why me?!
Slowly, Cheera swallowed her fear and calmed herself as she plotted out what to do.
I guess I really don’t get a choice, the cheetah pondered, I either can be a coward and go back to the temple only for Master to be disappointed in me when he finds out, he always finds out. Or, we can be stupidly bold and try to save the poor fool from that profane enchantress.
Drawing near the cliffside the tracks ended at, Cheera looked at what was plausible to do and, not wishing to get the contents of her satchel soaked, heaved herself up onto the cliffside.
----------------------------------------
Nexus, so was the canid’s name, continued to follow the cat along the shoreline and only grew hungrier. If this cat was only leading him to a trap or hoped that he would die soon, then she needed not wait long. But the cat halted and turned around with a devious smile.
“We are here, dog,” she exclaimed, “we are here.”
Nexus looked around and saw nothing. His blood curdled with anger and he whirled around with a snarl at the cat.
“Where?!” he pouted, “Where are we?! The middle of bloody nowhere?! Did you bring me here to die?!”
The cat did not reply, rather she started to dig at the sand as if searching for something. Nexus watched in disbelief and almost felt compelled to kick the cat, but stopped as something started to appear beneath the sand. In the small hole, were twigs set in the formation of an ‘x’ shape with a circular-outline placed around it with multiple herbs.
“This,” the cat explained, “is what will aid us in making us satisfied with our hunger.”
“How?” Nexus inquired, a bit unnerved by the discovery and wishing he hadn’t followed the cat.
“It will help us in the ritual,” she clarified, and looked up into the shepherd’s eyes, “Come, I have only a few more tasks for you to do. Go to the edge of the shore and find the corpse of a fish and bring it here, then I’ll tell you what to do next.”
While Nexus no longer had any trust toward the cat, his hunger again overruled his reason and did as told. With a wag of his tail, he walked toward the ocean and searched the waves for a fish corpse. Eventually, one was washed ashore and almost was taken back into the ocean had Nexus not swam after it.
This cat better know what she’s doing, he thought, when he returned to land soaked, Or I swear I will tear her apart.
Nexus returned to the cat, who sat bent over the hole uttering words in a language the Guardian had never heard and in fact sounded like gibberish to him. Nexus looked into the hole and noticed that a small patch of peach and light-brown fur rested in the centre.
Suddenly, the cat started to gag and choke and startled Nexus as she regurgitated a hairball into the hole. Turning back to the canid, she noticed what he clutched and smiled.
“Wonderful, mutt,” she mewed, “Go ahead, place it in the hole; we’re almost done.”
Nexus knelt and dropped the broken-down corpse into the hole. Before he could do anything else, he felt a prick at his fingertip as the cat withdrew her paw and blood drops trickled down into the hole. Then the cat started speaking in the foreign language again while Nexus watched as his few blood drops formed a perfect ring in the centre.
That was it, Nexus had put up with the feline’s taunts and scratches for too long and now this supernatural ritual freaked him out beyond reason even for hunger. Quick to his feet, the canid sprinted away from the cat and toward the hills. He did not make it far when it happened.
The cat had finished her lyrical spell, and hissed in a horrific tone like a snake as a violet cloud sprouted from the hole and chased the Guardian just before he reached the hills. The cloud grew in size as it swirled around the canid and drained him of his energy. Falling to his knees, Nexus slowly felt his body shift and turned that great pain stabbed him from within and out.
“W-what’s… happening to me?!” Nexus cried out, only for the cat’s voice to respond in his head.
My part of our oath, she told him telepathically, I said I would vanquish your hunger for good, did I not? Well, who has heard of a dead man who hungers?
She cackled from within his head, but when Nexus opened his maw to speak a high-pitched ‘Squeak!’ was all that came out. Slowly, his snout became pointed, his ears curled up and became rounded like a soup-bowl, and his hands thinner and flesh-like losing its fur and one finger, his tail grew in length and thinner in width and like his hands lost its fur making it seem like a worm. Then his fur pattern changed as his fur became light-brown while his underbelly retained the similar cream colour his body once had. Finally, Nexus felt himself grew smaller in size and watched as the clothes he once wore seemed to grow bigger.
With the spell completed, the cloud vanished as a lightning bolt flashed and thunder followed. Nexus heaved himself up and looked around; the world seemed to have grown fifteen times or he shrunk as much. Nexus tried to move on his hind legs and found it difficult to do so, and was forced to be on all fours. He found a small puddle and looked at his reflection; where once would have been a tall and agile shepherd stood a small mouse about four inches long.
Nexus stood in awe at his new figure and only was snapped out of his shock when the voice of the cat called out, not in his head, but not far off: “Waste not your time, little morsel, you might as well try to delay the inevitable if you wish.”
Quickly, Nexus scurried back to his now mountain-sized rags that had once clothed him and quietly hid within it. He curled up and dared not breathe out of fear, as the shadow of the now huge cat passed over the clothing.
I respect you for thinking that you could hide from me, her voice echoed in his mind, But if I can penetrate your mind to speak within it, what makes you think I cannot also see what your vision sees?
No sooner did the voice stop, that the shadow pounced on top of clothes and started to tear from the other side. Nexus let out a shrill ‘squeak!’ and hurried out the other end of the clothing. While the cat squirmed trapped in the clothing briefly, the rodent searched desperately for a place to lose her. A scattered array of stones and rocks in the sand rested not far off and Nexus scurried toward them just as the cat shredded her way out of the clothing.
Upon arrival at the rocks, Nexus shut his eyes tightly and hoped that the cat couldn’t sense where he was.
Ah, clever mouse, her voice whispered in his mind, I guess you and I are at a standoff and I got to play the ole fashion cat and mouse game.
Nexus shuddered and kept his talon-like hands on the rock he hid behind to guide him as the cat continued to taunt him.
Here, mousey, mousey, mousey, the voice echoed, You think I didn’t hear that thought of tearing me apart? Well, it’s only fair then that I treat you as such. Don’t worry though, I’m sure you will be dead by the time I only begin.
Nexus pushed himself off the rock and onto another one and continued to follow his senses for direction.
I really have enjoyed this game, she taunted again, But I grow so hungry that I fear you might not satisfy me anymore. So stop delaying your fate and show yourself.
Nexus winced in fear and carried on. But just as he was about to move to another rock, he bumped into a wall of flesh and fur. Knowing it couldn’t be anyone else, Nexus opened his eyes and whirled around to run. He did not get far before he was pinned to the ground by one of the cat’s paws.
“Got you, my little morsel,” she said famished, “This has been fun, like I said, but let us get to the main course.”
Before Nexus could react, he was flung up into the air while the cat waited below with her maw opened widely.
Is… is this it?! Nexus thought, To be torn apart and devoured?! Not knowing who I am, or who my parents were? My goodness, what have I done to deserve this cruel a fate?!
He felt himself start to fall. Nexus started to weep at the injustice it seemed he was about to suffer. But just as he thought the cat’s jaws were about to grasp him, a hiss of pain filled his ears before he only felt her fur and was flung a littleways from her. As he landed in the sandy ground, Nexus turned back to see the cat, her fur soaked and dripping a white liquid. She briefly shook herself clean and looked above and past the mouse at something above and cried: “No!” as she tried to pounce at the Guardian. Nexus started to brace himself only to be heaved up suddenly by an unknown cause and watched as the light of the world vanished; the movement was so quick that he failed to catch his breath and already had felt light-headed, blacked out.
----------------------------------------
Cheera’s heart raced as quick as her actions had. The cheetah had finished her climbing just as a thunder clap echoed throughout the area. She recognised the sound all too well, the witch had either done a poor job at trying to control the weather to attack the sorceress, or the witch had performed a ritual successfully.
Hopefully the former, Cheera hoped, as she stealthy tried to follow the tracks and not be heard.
It took her a while before she found them; the witch in her cat form had only just escaped the rags of what Cheera could only assume had been the Guardian’s, but also noticed the small figure of a mouse dart into the forest of rocks. Cheera realised what the witch had done and looked into her satchel for anything useful to use against the witch.
There wasn’t much beside the title stone she grabbed that could have worked as a weapon. But when she noticed her milk jar, Cheera figured it could work. She pulled it from the satchel and undid the lid before she slowly arose and searched for the cat or the mouse. They were nowhere in sight, but Cheera stalked quietly around the forest of rocks. By the time she found them, the witch had thrown the mouse into the air.
Quick to her wits, Cheera splashed the cat with the milk, which caused the cat to recoil in disgust as the mouse fell to the ground, and then swooped the mouse up into the clutches of her hands.
“No!” the cat screeched, and pounced at Cheera.
The cat landed by the sorceress’ legs and clawed at the nearest one. Cheera hissed at the smaller feline as it tore the cloth to her pants. She stamped her foot and forced the witch to jump back. Then the witch pounced again, but this time the cat appeared to grow to the size of a person and revealed her true form; a torn-looking ocelot, deformed by years of doing who knows what, and wore only a tattered gown with a torn poncho over.
Cheera had no time to react and watched in horror as the ocelot grabbed the hand which the mouse was in and bit it. Cheera let out a small shout of pain as blood trickled down her knuckles while the witch spoke: “He’s mine, I made an oath with him, it is just that I have him!”
Cheera reached into her satchel and produced the lamb flank that was made for her and the Guardian. The witch eyed the tender piece of meat with a fanatical gaze. Cheera tossed the flank onto the ground and the witch released her grasp and dove for the piece of meat.
“Leave,” Cheera ordered the witch, “Before I have to do something.”
The ocelot looked up at the cheetah with a hatful gaze, flicked her tail, and transformed back into her last form with the flank in her maw before she walked away. Cheera looked at the bite wound and saw a black liquid ooze around it with her blood. Using her cloak, Cheera wiped the wound and remembered that the mouse remained in her grasp. She turned her hand over and opened it, the mouse laid in her palm seemingly lifeless, save the occasional rise and decline of his belly with every inhale and exhale of breath. Cheera sighed, grateful she had managed to save the Guardian, though not without injury.
“Revered be Your name, Gan Tús,” Cheera uttered under her breath, “for You have safely protected me and this poor fellow, whom you have sent.”
Once she concluded her honorary praise, Cheera opened her satchel and replaced the empty jar of milk before she gently placed the unconscious mouse in too.
“Don’t you snack on the food while I walk, please,” she whispered to the mouse, though she knew he probably didn’t hear her, “I don’t wanna get hungry on the journey back.”
With that, she closed the satchel and started to head back to the temple.
----------------------------------------
Not long, but not shortly after this, Nexus regained his thought. The mouse coughed briefly and then looked around his surroundings.
Is this the afterlife? He thought, having just remembered the events that unfolded earlier, I did not think it would be so… leathery.
Nexus sat up and leaned on the corner of the satchel as he gazed up at the very little light that peeked through. The satchel swayed with every strut its owner took. The muffled tune of a song being whistled filled the mouse’s ears and his heart with a blissful feeling.
Then a scent stole Nexus’ attention. He looked at the other contents of the satchel and his eyes widened at the size of the cheese and bread. The sight was so amazing to him that he failed to notice he drooled. The Guardian’s stomach growled for the first time since he was scratched by the cat.
I mean, it’s only fitting that I desire cheese, Nexus thought, as he patted his new form, Hehe.
But then the realisation sank into his mind; he was in the possession of a person who was most likely many times his size and if they were to see a mouse snacking on what could only be assumed their meal, what would become of him. Because of this, Nexus forced himself not to even touch the food.
A moment later, the movement and singing stopped. Nexus looked up with an anxious gaze of fear. The hatch of the satchel was pulled back and the giant face of a cheetah peered down. Nexus became terrified while the cheetah smiled and cheerfully greeted: “Why hello, hope you feel better,” but the mouse paid no attention, and scurried to hide beneath the loaf of bread. He almost succeeded but then there was a pinching feeling at the end of his tail which had not made it, which caused him to let out another: “Squeak!”
“Sorry, sorry,” the cheetah apologised, as she dragged the mouse by his tail out of the satchel, “Truly I am.”
As Cheera pulled the terrified rodent from his hiding place, she heard him repetitively speak: “Squeakmeepsqueep!” over and over again.
“Clam down,” Cheera responded, “I’m not going to eat you.”
Nexus stopped his pleading and looked up at the cheetah with amazement as she dropped him into the palm of her other hand.
“Meep squeak pip?” he asked.
“Yes, I understand you,” Cheera answered, and smiled as she looked at the mouse and beamed, “You look so cute.”
Nexus huffed and started to yell angrily with meep and squeaks at the cheetah who chuckled with amusement.
“All right, I’m sorry,” she replied. Her ears perked up at the sound of the growling that Nexus’ stomach emitted and looked sympathetically at him, “Oh, I didn’t realise you were starving.” She caressed his cheek with her fore finger as she said this.
Cheera pulled her hand away and dug through the satchel. Nexus watched, realised he no longer was being supported and looked below himself to see that he levitated a few feet or so from the ground. His heart jumped a beat and he started to squeak frantically.
“Hehe,” Cheera chuckled, “Don’t worry, it’s just a trick I can do without any spells being needed, watch.”
To prove her point, Cheera took off her cloak, whipped it around, and laid it down like it was a tablecloth as it levitated in front of her where she sat. She grabbed the mouse and brought him down to the cloak where he hopped off her hand.
Then Cheera produced the cheese slice and bread, placing them beside the mouse, who looked desirous at them.
“Just wait a little longer please,” Cheera asked, as she pulled out the milk jug, uttered a few words in that language that still confused Nexus, and watched as the empty jar refilled itself with milk. “Here you are.”
Upon the last sentence, Cheera took a piece of the cheese that seemed suitable for the mouse and offered it to him. Nexus took it and turned his back to her as he started to work away on the cheese with delight. The cheetah however, frowned at the mouse’s manners and gave him a gentle push with her finger. Nexus turned around with an irritated expression.
“Look, I get it, you're new here, and you are probably even scared to trust anyone,” Cheera began, “But I don’t like it when I have a guest that turns their back on me, especially if I helped them.”
“...Meep pip,” Nexus eventually apologised, as his tail flicked ashamed, “Squeak meep squeak.”
“I forgive you, and you’re welcome,” Cheera replied, and gently patted the mouse before she started to make a sandwich for herself. “What’s your name if I might inquire?”
“Eeek…” the mouse squealed nervously, and rubbed the back of his head, “Pip squeak meep pip.”
“You… don’t know?” Cheera repeated confused, when she remembered her earlier discovery, “Oh right, I think I might know why.”
She reached back into the satchel and pulled out the title stone. Just as she set it down on her cloak, Nexus noticed her bite wound and scurried over before Cheera retracted her hand.
“Meep squeak?” he questioned.
“Oh, that…” Cheera said, “It’s not that bad I think, nothing a potion back home could not fix.”
Now the Guardian really felt guilty; it was because of him that she suffered the wound, and had no way to make it up to her now. So Nexus figured the least he can do is show his gratitude. While he loomed over the wound, he leaned in slowly and gave a small smooch on it. Cheera smiled and blushed very lightly at the affectionate gesture. Before the mouse could move away, the cheetah leaned in and returned a gentle lick across his face which flared a deeper scarlet than her.
“That is a first,” she whispered, “Never did I think I would lick a Guardian. Then again, I didn’t expect to have to save a Guardian also.”
She finally opened her hand and dropped the stone. The rodent scurried over to it and beheld its writing.
“Squeak?”
“Yes, that is your name,” Cheera clarified.
Nexus huffed and looked disapprovingly at the stone.
“What is it?” Cheera asked.
“Squeak meep pip squeak ep sqwee,” he replied.
“Don’t like it, why?” she pressed on, “Well, I mean I can understand the frustration, my full name is Cheeranaeth, but I prefer Cheera. Still, I think your name is simple and nice, I don’t see an issue with it.”
“Squeak eek squeak,” Nexus said, “Ep squeak meep squeak pip.”
“Think it doesn’t feel like a name?” Cheera repeated, “Well, I guess I could call you just Nex…”
The mouse’s ears twitched at the suggestion and he looked up and squealed with delight and agreement.
“Nex it is then,” Cheera stated, “Well, Nex, you now know I am Cheera, and while you seem to be off to a bad start here, allow me to welcome you to the world of Grossheim.
“Now that we have that out of the way, let us eat,” she added, and took a bite from her sandwich, “hrmf, wersh I hod some kend uf meat ‘o ‘o wit ‘his.”
Nex chuckled and continued to nibble away at his crumb of cheese. He finished with ease and looked back up at the cheetah expectantly.
“What, still hungry?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Well, I guess I can give you more,” Cheera thought aloud, “But if you over-eat don’t say I didn’t try to stop you.”
Taking a slightly bigger chunk of the cheese and a little bread, Cheera placed the pieces before the rodent who leisurely ate it. By the time they were finished, the mouse had eaten all the bread and two-thirds of the cheese he was given. Cheera replaced all that was left over into the satchel before she opened the milk jar.
“Thirsty?” she offered.
“Pip,” Nex refused, but added: “Ep squeak meep squeak.”
Cheera held out her palm and poured a little milk in it and watched amusingly as Nex slumped over and lapped at the milk in her hand.
“Such a cute thing you are,” she commented, and stroked his head with her finger. She looked up, saw where the wandering sun of Grossheim rested in the sky before saying: “Well, it’s been fun, Nex, but we must be going. I think that there is a way to get you back the way you were, but I make no promises.”
Cheera lifted her hand once Nex had heaved himself onto it and brought it down to the satchel for him to climb in. But much to the cheetah’s surprise, the mouse scurried up her sleeve and climbed her arm.
“Hey!” she cried out, and tried to catch the vermin, “Get out of there! Nex!”
The mouse exited at the neck brim and hurried to her shoulder where he remained with a determined look that said ‘I wish to ride here’.
“...Fffiiiiinne,” Cheera sighed, “but once we start to ascend the mountains, promise me you will get in the satchel, okay?”
“Ep squeak ek pip-meep,” he retorted with her own words.
“Why you…” Cheera chuckled, as she grabbed her cloak, shook it clean of any crumbs, and replaced it on herself.
The pair journeyed back to the Mystic Peaks, with a newly found appreciation and company for each other. Neither knew what awaited them -for nothing is destined to anyone, only intended- but still their spirits were high. And so concludes the first of many tales to come.
TO BE CONCLUDED.
*- I would recommend to the dear reader, if thou wish to have a clearer vision of such a structure, to refer to the text ‘The Life Style And Structure Of A Meɪguild Sanctuary’ by the scribe, Alejh.