She was a young Queen - but Queen in more ways than one. Her fur was unique red and black, and her face bore the purple paint of royalty. A gold star was between her eyebrows - the marking of a hybrid. She was more Feline than Quith, but still owned some of the powers.
Their land, which was never called anything but "home" or "land", was actually a village of Felines and Quith. The Quith were a strange race, but welcomed as friends. There were even a few crossbreeds - the children of Quith and Feline. She herself was one.
Her daughter, Sifarow, ran in. Her fur was muddy and wet, but on her black face she wore a grin. Tereling picked her up.
"Silly," she murmured, washing her kitten. Sifarow wriggled in her mother's arms, but stayed until she was clean. Then she ran off to play with her Quith friend, Firarth. Each royal Cat had a Quith companion, usually of the same age.
Tereling walked over to her own Quith friend, Jarinlan. He was a lion at the moment - it was his favourite form.
"I have been meaning to ask you something," Tereling said.
"And that would be?" Jarinlan asked, tossing his green mane a bit.
"You have been unusually quiet lately. Is something wrong?"
He looked down. "Daretha is weak…. I'm worried about her."
Tereling sighed and placed a paw on Jarinlan's furry shoulder. "I'll have my healer look at her ---"
"No!" Jarinlan rejected.
"Why?" she asked, surprised at his decisivness.
He frowned He had his reasons, but a Feline, even a hybrid, could not understand. They needed more Quith than she had in her. "I don't trust her," Jarinlan answered simply.
Tereling looked at him quizzically for a moment. Jarinlan kept his face pointed at the children.
"I admit, Dimapax is rather new at her craft, but she was trained for three years and ---"
"I don't care," he said stonily. "I will not let my Daretha's life lie in her paws, I have reasons you could not possibly understand."
* * *
That night, Daretha, a friendly blue Quith, died. Her energy gave out and disappeared into the atmostphere, giving her life to the plants. The next day, the garden bloomed wildly - even though there had been only mere seeds the day before.
"I'm so sorry," Tereling said, placing a paw on Jarinlan's shoulder. Large wet tears were falling from his eyes.
"Jari," she said, using the nickname they had not used since childhood, "come into the garden. It's the most amazing thing - the plants have grown!"
"Like she said she would," Jarinlan muttered, but followed Tereling, Sifarow and Firarth to the mass of beautiful plants. Sifarow and Firarth raced off right away, the previous yelling at the latter that he was cheating by flying.
"Yes, very lovely," Jarinlan said without any enthusiasm. A bush rustled suddenly, and he dropped into a defensive pose. One of his jobs was to protect the Queen. Tereling tensed up.
The bush shook, and shook, then - out popped a Feline. Her fur was red and white, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry if I scared you," she said, looking down respectively.
"Raque (rak), what were you doing in there?" Tereling asked, looking at her friend in bepuzzlment. Raque gave a sheepish smile.
"I fell asleep last night after planting these seeds," she explained, "and when I woke up, I was surrounded! I've been slicing away since midnight." She indicated to the hole in the strong, thorny bush, then picked up some more sticks and covered it. "You won't even know it exists. Have a feeling that hole'll be there forever, though." Turning around, it was as if for the first
time she noticed Jarinlan. "Hello…."
Jarinlan nodded, not taking his eyes off her. "I am Jarinlan. You are…Raque?"
"Yes."
There was silence for a moment, and then….
"Muuum! Firarth's eating the roses!"
"What?"
"He said they tasted good!"
"That's ridiculous," Tereling said, surpressing a laugh.
"I know! They taste horrible!" Sifarow said earnestly. Tereling noticed something red stuck between her teeth.
"We have a crisis," she reported. "Firarth's eating the roses."
Jarinlan sighed. "Firarth!" he called, running in the direction from which Sifarow had come. The others chased him.
"What are you eating?" Jarinlan demanded. Firarth turned redder than usual.
"Nofing," he tried to answer, his dragon cheeks bulging.
"Spit it out."
"Nah."
"Yes."
"Nah."
Raque stepped forward and held Firarth's head in her paws. "You heard your father - spit it out now."
"Nah!"
Raque squeezed the sides of his mouth, then stuck her paw in - right into a dragon's mouth. Firarth struggled, but it was to no avail, Raque held tight with her other paw. After a moment she pulled out a mangled, slightly slimy crimson something.
"There's your rose," she said, placing it in Jarinlan's green paw. He looked at it distastfully, but said, "thank you."
Annoyed that his snack had been stolen, Firarth flew up into the air and zoomed about in busy circles. He purposefully made lost of noise, teasing the birds to no end. Sifarow danced in the flurry of little feathers.
"I'm going to see if I can prune this into a reasonable size," Raque said, looking up at the looming rose vines, coiled and recoiled around each other. It seemed quite a task, and Tereling said so.
"I like to keep busy," Raque answered, pulling out some hedge clippers. She climbed the top and began chopping.
"Ow!" Sifarow exclaimed. She held up her paw. "I got a cut."
"Let's go back to the castle and have Dimapax fix that," Tereling suggested. They did, but Jarinlan was very cold to Dima.
"Why must you hate her so?" Tereling whispered. Jarinlan frowned.
"Because I can tell who she is," he answered.
Jarinlan visited Raque often, and you could say it was quite obvious what would happen. Soon they got married - though Firarth was most displeased. "Why are you going to marry her?" Firarth asked angrily. His father and Raque sat before him as her flew back and forth.
"Because we want to, Firarth! You should understand - I thought you were much more mature than this ---"
"She's not even a Quith!" Firarth yelled. Raque looked like she wanted to climb right back into the bush. Jarinlan jumped up.
"You have no right to speak so disrespectfully!"
"I'll speak how I want! And I don't want her, I want Mum!" Firarth dropped his head into his dragon hands and began to cry.
Jarinlan felt himself weaken at the mention of Daretha. "She's gone, she can't come back," he said, more softly than before. "You have to accept that."
"I won't! I want her back!" Firarth sobbed. Raque felt guilty for causing all this trouble. "Firarth, I ---"
"I hate you!" he yelled, then flew out the window.
"Firarth, come back!" Jarinlan called after him. Firarth didn't respond and flew harder, sadness wrenching his heart.
The moon shone lightly through the parting clouds, creating atherial patterns of light before him. He wanted to be alone, away from his father - what he really wanted now was his mum.
"Why did she have to die?" he asked the moon, looking at it forlornly.
"It was her time," a deep voice answered. Firarth whirled around.
Behind him stood a very very large grey Tom. His eyes were sort of faded in colour, though perhaps once they had been green. There was something unsettling about his appearance.
"I'm very sorry, little dragon," the Tom said. Instantly Firarth forgot his appearance.
"What's your name? I'm Firarth - I'm a Quith."
"Quith, excuse my mistake. My name is Lungoth."
"Lungoth," Firarth thought. "How appropriate." Then he said out loud, "Do you know my family?"
"I know what is happening now," Lungoth answered. "Your father is getting remarried. You're angry because you don't want anyone replacing your mum."
"Yes, that's exactly…. How do you know?"
"I - uh - have friends who work in the castle," Lungoth replied after a moment's hesitation. He spread his deformed face into a smile. "I came to you to say - you want to get away, you could come and stay with me if you like."
Firarth's young face lit up. "Really? Oh, that would be wonderful! When can I leave?"
"Any time you like."
Firarth's naïve mind considered this. It sounded just like what he was looking for. "Now!" he said. Then he remembered his best friend, Sifarow. "Wait, I have to tell Sisi." He turned to fly back.
Lungoth grabbed his wing. "No, little one, I'm afraid you must not tell her."
"But she's my best friend, she'd worry about me ---"
"Your father wants to marry a Feline. Now or never."
Firarth gulped and took a final look at the castle which was once his home. "Let's go."
* * *
Firarth lived with Lungoth for nearly four months. Lungoth was never there, but it didn't matter to Firarth. He practised changing forms, flying, and breathing fire. He stayed at Lungoth's cavern, while….
* * *
Tereling raced into Dimapax's chamber. "Raque's having a kitten!" she called, and Dimapax came running out.
Raque lay in her bed, panting madly. Seizing her chance, Dima grabbed a bottle of a strange liquid and forced Raque to drink. "What is that?" Tereling asked as Raque screamed.
"Just a relaxant, it will help the kitten pass," Dimapax lied. "Sure, the kitten will pass. It'll be a dead-borne though, and that's the objective," she mentally added. Another hybrid this close to the throne would be dangerous to her operation. And if this one was an even hybrid…the results could be disasterous.
Raque screamed once more as the kitten was born. It mewed pitifully, and to add much to Dimapax's despair, a silver star shone on her forehead. The kitten was a live even hybrid.
Raque looked at her kitten. "She's beautiful," she murmured, then collapsed, lifeless.
* * *
Jarinlan was devastated. "All of them! I lose everyone I love!" he ranted. Then his tone turned to sadness. "Why?" he sobbed. His mind hurt terribly, so much he decided he's rather not have a mind, or a heart, for that matter.
Reversing to his form of pure energy, he floated out the window and into the sky, gone.
* * *
Firarth felt his father leave. He flew out of the cavern for the first time in months, not caring that Lungoth would see him gone. In their room he found Tereling and Sifarow, Tereling holding a tiny tiny furball in her paws.
Looking closer, he saw the obviou signs: a silver star on the forehead, wings, and the silver of the eyes.
"A little sister?" he breathed. Sifarow jumped up and hugged him tightly.
"Firarth, Jarinlan and Raque are…." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Instead she threw her arms around him again and sobbed. "I'm sorry," she murmured.
Firarth gave his best friend a hug, then took his little sister in his hands. "She's an even hybrid…. Oh my God! What am I going to do? I can't take care of a kitten! I'm not even a hybrid, I can't teach her how to fly ---"
"Firarth?" Tereling interupted. "Firarth, would you like me to foster her for you?"
Firarth breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, thank you so!"
Tereling smiled. "Not a problem - now, I'm not going to bother you with telling us where you were for the past few months -" Firarth felt more pleased "- because it's time for bed." Pouting slightly, they trudged up to their rooms.
Enjoyably and uneventfully passed the next month. The kitten, which they had named Xelya, grew, as kittens should. She was incredibly adorable to everyone - with the possible exception of Tereling and Firarth….
* * *
"Xel, come here!" Firarth demanded. His sister shook her head.
"No."
"Xel!"
"No."
"Xelya, you come here this instant!" he yelled to Xelya, on the other side of her bedroom. Her little wings held her a small inch in the air, and she was purposefully staying away from Firarth. "You have to go to bed now!"
Xelya's next defiant "no" was cut off by a scream. Forgetting this scene completely, Firarth flew out the door.
"Wait for meee!" Xelya whined before he came back and carried her with him. Tereling stood in the centre of her room, much like a statue. Her face was pale, a single paw pointing to a small piece of paper in Sifarow's paw.
"Hand over the purple to me now, or there will be consequences," Sifarow read, taking Xelya from Firarth. Xelya always seemed to like Sifarow's flighty nature better than the calmness of he and the Queen.
"I know where you are - well, who doesn't," Sifarow injected, "and I know your weaknesses. Do as I say unless you would like to see see end up like Raque, Jarinlan and Daretha."
Tereling fainted.
* * *
"Dead," Tereling muttered, barely awake. Her blurry, crossed eyes straightened themselves until she coul clearly see the four faces leaning over her. "They're dead…."
"See Mum, it's like a code," Sifarow said, ignoring her slightly disturbed mother. "But they obviously mean someone - I just can't firgure out who."
"Read it again from, 'do as I say'," Tereling instructed.
"Do as I say unless you would like to see see end up like ---"
"Again. That stretch, I can feel it."
Sighing, Sifarow read again, "unless you would like to see see ---"
Tereling, who suddenly sat up and squashed her into a hug, cut her off. "Double guard on my daughter," she ordered. "Firarth, I want you with her too. Dimapax can take care of Xelya ---"
"No," Xelya said.
"Yes," Tereling said, puzzled.
"No," Xelya insisted. "No-no-no-no-NO!"
"Alright, alright!" Sifarow intterupted. "Settle that later; why am I to be watched?"
"See see," said Tereling, sounding quite mad. "See see, see see, see Si!
Sifarow!"
* * *
Firarth flew in tight circles within Sifarow's chamber. Sifarow herself sat up in bed, hugging her knees to her chest. The only sleeping one was Xelya. "Who is it? Who would want the purple so bad?" Sifarow wondered out loud. She wiped off a bit of her face paint and examined it curiously.
"Sisi, you never asked me where I was those months," said Firarth out of the blue.
"I guessed it might be a touchy subject," Sifarow answered, looking up at him. "If you know who is threatening me…."
"I do," he said, flying faster. "I know, and I stayed with him, and he fed me…." Panting, Firarth came to the ground. "He was obsessed. He talked about purple in his sleep…."
Sifarow was hurt that her friend had kept such things for her - though she hadn't asked. "Firarth…my mother needs to know of this Feline…."
"He's not a Feline!" Firarth announced. "Honestly, I don't know what he is! When I met him he was Feline, then he started changing…. Last time he was more of a - a - a lump-monster. Much too big, much too powerful."
"Guard!" Sifarow called. A red Feline walked in. "Yes, Princess?"
Sifarow coughed at the title. She saw a "princess" as the human girl who was locked in an easily-escapable tower for years in pink dresses and with head fur grown much too long - even for a human. "I want to see my mother."
"Yes, Princess," the guard said, bowing. A moment later Tereling rushed in. "What is it, baby?"
"Mum, Firarth has something to tell you," Sifarow said, hugging her mother. Tereling looked at Firarth in anticipation.
"Iknowwhowantsthepurple," Firarth mumbled, looking down and drawing a circle on the floor with his toe.
"Speak up dear, I can't understand you," Tereling said.
"I know who wants the purple," he repeated. "He's a Lungoth, and he's really big, and mean, and scary, and obsessed with power, and grey, and lumpy, and - er - big…."
Tereling looked about uncomfortably. "Th-thank you for telling me, Firarth…. I believe I should go back to my room now…." She walked out, staring dazedly. Firarth buried his face in his hands, wondering if he had done the right thing.
* * *
"Silver. Silver, with a gold core," Tereling snapped. She walked briskly through the crafter's area of her land. A yellow, jittery little scribe-kitten ran at her side, trying to write it all down and keep up with her hurried pace at the same time. They rushed into the silver and gold smith's place.
"My lady?" the smith intoned, looking up. He quickly bowed his brown head again in respect before looking at Tereling's face again. "My lady, what brings you to my humble smithery?"
"I need a staff to be built," Tereling said. The scribe pulled off a sheet of paper with the details on it. "As soon as possible, deliver it to the castle." She dropped a small stack of yellow papers on his desk. "Make this your number-one obligation. These are signed excuses from me, give one to your customers to explain if their pieces aren't ready yet. You will be paid richly." With a swish of the door, she was gone, the scribe chasing her, and the smith gaping at the directions in his paw.
