THE POWER

~*~

Echo didn’t have to listen for pawsteps or scent the air to know Feather was behind him. He swung around before she was even two cerrien-lengths away from him.

Thorn was utterly silent, while Thistle was grumbling under his breath.

“I’ll be at the Schooling Cave in a while to pick them up,” was all Feather said before she ushered her kittens forward and turned to leave. Echo wondered briefly if she had left the meeting early to fetch Thistle. Does she really not care about the murders?

“Rude!” Inferno snorted when she was out of earshot. He turned to Echo. “Why don’t you ever say anything to her?”

“What? And get my ears shredded?” Echo shook his head.

“You should’ve reported her ages ago,” Inferno muttered.

“Your parents tried to report her in the past, but didn’t succeed, and they’re advisors, Inferno. I’m just a random cerrien. I don’t see how my attempt will be any different.” I probably wouldn’t succeed without consequence if I tried! She’ll rip me to bits and send me to the Winter Food Cave to freeze to death!

Spire looked at their paws in uncertainty.

Echo fumbled for an excuse to break the tension. “We should leave—before we end up being late.”

Inferno tipped his head to one side. “My point still stands. I’m worried.”

“Don’t be.” Echo touched his nose to his. “There’s enough going on right now.”

Inferno narrowed his eyes. “Bye, then." He nodded towards Spire. "Have fun at your medic class."

Spire blinked as though they had been plunged out of thought. “Uh—yeah. Thanks.”

“I hope you feel better,” Echo called to Inferno as his friend turned and exited the clearing.

Thorn and Thistle bounded ahead down the path, with Echo and Spire following closely behind them. Their paws crunched upon the growing amount of leaves drifting onto the ground.

“You know, you should really do something about this whole Feather thing,” Spire said. “Try talking to her—make her understand how much she’s hurting you. She’s basically your mother.”

You sound like Inferno. “Even if we were related by blood, it means nothing. Feather will never listen to me,” Echo scoffed. “She’ll give me a long lecture about how she knows better. She might even barricade me in her den, and I certainly don’t want to be reminded again of what that feels like. Even with that aside, she served as a soldier and then as a member of the Court. She’s older, physically stronger, and was the partner of a soldier. I’m just some cerrien. I don’t stand a chance.”

Spire shuddered. “I—guess that’s true…”

If anything, I’m the last cerrien she’ll ever listen to. Echo thought bitterly. I’m barely her kitten. I don’t even think I ever was.

Soon the four cerrien made it to the Schooling Cave, where guardians and their kittens were already murmuring from inside. A line of guards blocked the wide opening, their gazes turning to the cerriens upon their arrival. A reddish brown cerrien with black paws slipped past the soldiers and met the newcomers a cerrien-length from the entrance.

“Hello,” the cerrien greeted them brisky. “Are you here for the next lesson of our kitten-range course?”

“Yes,” said Echo.

“Alright you can go sit down. The class will be starting soon.” The cerrien turned away and signaled for two guards to create an opening that the cerriens could pass through.

They began to pad further inside the cave. Many tunnels branched off to separate class chambers, and Spire turned to one in the back labeled Basic Medical Training.

“Bye guys,” Spire mewed. “Good luck with your powers, Echo!” They waved their tail in farewell and disappeared into the small crowd around them.

“Have fun at your medical class!” Echo called after them.

The Kitten-Range: Tribe History and Culture class chamber was closer to the front. Inside, flat stones were scattered around where some were already seated.

“Can we sit at the front?” Thistle begged.

“Yes,” Echo told them. “So long as you don’t disrupt the teacher.”

“Okay!” Thistle charged ahead to the first row and bounced onto one of the stones in the middle. Echo and Thorn sat on the stones around him.

“Hello, class!” The teacher trotted to the front. “Welcome to the session. Today we are going to continue our discussion on our tribe’s…”

Echo didn’t listen to the rest. I don’t have to pay attention to this. This class is for kittens like Thorn and Thistle. I’ll try using the power now. I sure hope I don’t end up somewhere else, if sitting here does anything at all.

He waited and let his mind wander for a while, hoping he could manage to use his power on command this time, but all he could focus on was the garrulous speech of the teacher.

“…Our tribe was the first to exist, and since then, many others…”

Come on! I need to figure out who the murderer is!

“…Scorpoterria has since tried to prove they are just as strong as us…”

This is pointless! Echo thought, starting to feel agitated. It’s never gonna work. He remained deathly still with his eyes clenched shut, ignoring the sounds swirling around him.

After what felt like days of eternal stillness, the ground abruptly fell before his paws. Echo let out a shriek of terror, but there was no response. For a moment he felt as though barreling through thin air. His paws thrashed in blind panic, his tail lashing wildly—until the terror was broken by a voice.

“Commander Starlight, what is that?”

Echo opened his eyes to find himself in the Hatchery—the hollow sheltered by many thick branches. Although he was crouched upon the earthy floor, he felt as though there was mere air beneath his paws, and his pelt was not stirred by the breeze that rustled the leaves.

Feather was sitting in a nest, a green and brown egg beside her and half concealed by her thick fur. A dark purple cerrien with fur filled with wisps of blue and pink, speckled with white, was gently rolling an egg splotched with a slightly faded stain of brown, the imperfection disturbing the beautiful light blue swirls on the rest of the shell.

“A cerrien egg,” Starlight reported, “found in the northern part of the forest. Our scouting parties couldn’t find any parents anywhere.”

Echo took in a sharp breath of air as he realized what time this was.

Feather looked briefly shocked, almost angry, but she blinked as though trying to push away her thoughts.

Starlight shrugged. “They’re probably dead. You shall take care of the egg.”

“Alright,” replied Feather. Something else flashed in her eyes, an emotion Echo couldn’t quite describe. It almost looked like…Anger? Fear? Confusion muddled his thoughts. What reason did Feather have to be afraid?

“It has a strange stain on it,” Starlight commented. “We tried washing it off in the stream, but we couldn’t get it fully off. It’s a shame—that shade of blue is so pretty. It looks just like a pale blue sky, doesn’t it?”

“Huh,” said Feather absently. Her intense gaze never wavered from the egg.

Echo watched as his egg was plopped into Feather’s nest and Starlight left the den. He found himself searching for a hint of compassion, the slightest intimation of a mother who wanted anything to do with the tiny life growing within the fragile shell, but Feather merely lowered her large furry head into the nest, her face stolid.

Echo pushed away disappointment and made space only for reality. She hates you. Stop wasting time in a fantasy world where she doesn’t.

In the nest beside Feather’s, Echo saw the bright golden pelt of Prism. She was curled around a pinkish-orange egg and a newly-hatched kitten Inferno, his fur only now starting to fluff up.

“That egg is lucky that Starlight found it,” Prism said. “I wonder where it came from.”

“If you’re so interested in it, then why don’t you take care of it?” Feather scoffed.

“I’m busy enough with these two,” Prism explained, looking down at the egg and kitten beside her. “The other egg is due for hatching any day now. I’m an advisor. I need to get back to my duties as soon as possible, and with a whole new egg that needs to be kept warm here, and then looked after when it hatches, I’d be signed off of duties for even longer.”

Feather snorted bitterly. “There’s five more of you! I’m sure they couldn’t care less if you stayed here for another two moons!”

“Where’s your sense of heart?”

“Fine,” Feather replied sharply. She closed her eyes.

She never wanted to raise me. Echo thought. She’s no mother. How could she be allowed to raise more?

Echo waited with dismay for himself to be snapped back into the real world. Yet instead, flashes swarmed through his eyes until he made out strange blobs of colored light. A forest opened up before him, the sun low against the trees so that much of what lay ahead of him was lost in shadows—despite his night vision.

Bright white, vertical eyes shone through the trees. Echo’s night vision adjusted to the gloom, and soon he could make out the misty body of a creature, but it was pitch black, its form undefined in shape and its edges lapping the air like a hungry black flame, only vaguely resembling a cerrien.

“Who…who are you?” Echo asked warily.

Vicious yowls and cries sounded from nearby. Echo lowered himself to the ground before the wails gradually died away. A few yellow rays filtered through the leaves and tree trunks as the sun crept past the tree line, and Echo’s eyes widened as he caught sight of limp cerrien bodies. Two of them: one light gray, almost white, and one white and brown. Dark, scarlet blood covered their fur and pooled in the grass, staining it crimson. Their eyes were dimmed, the light of them burned out like an extinguished flame, leaving only cloudy smoke in their depths. Echo shivered.

Two more cerriens emerged from the trees, passing Echo and the shadowy cerrien without sparing even a glance at them.

One of them—brown and orange—sniffed the pelt of the white cerrien body.

“Scorpoterria cerriens,” she murmured. “Dead.”

“Scorpoterria cerriens?” The gray second cerrien narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. These cerriens have large ears and long legs, and look at the tufts of fur on their paws.”

“But why—and how, would two Scorpoterrians have died on our border?

The gray cerrien shook her head. “I think you’re overthinking this. This is the Maliterrian border. They’re probably loners. Awful as this is, cerriens are killed all the time there.”

“Either way, we should get out of here. Now. Can you smell any tribe scent on them?”

The gray cerrien lowered her head and sniffed. “All I can smell is the reek of Maliterria. It was probably just a skirmish between Maliterrians.”

“But why would they be in our territory? They never cross the border.”

“Maliterria must’ve gotten bold.” The gray cerrien flicked her tail dismissively. “Let’s go. We’ll report this to Commander Aspen right away.”

Aspen? Echo blinked. He was the acting commander when Starlight was about to lay Spire’s egg, around the time my egg was found.

He glanced at the other cerrien.

The creature simply stared back at him. Dread churned through Echo’s body.

“What happened to those cerriens?” Echo asked. “Do you know?” Unconcerned with borders or not, it was unusual to find dead cerriens of any affiliation in Moorest territory. Was that mystery ever solved? This is definitely the first time I’m hearing about this.

Without warning, Echo was suddenly thrust into a tunnel of eternal bright lights and a rainbow of colors so blindingly luminous that he had to close his eyes.

“Echo! Hey, Echo!”

A paw poked Echo in the side.

Echo snapped back to the present with a start.

“Class is over!” Thistle squeaked.

Thorn caught Echo’s gaze.

“Did you find out who did it?” Thorn demanded.

Echo backed away, nearly falling backwards off his seat as his brothers seemed to press around him. He took deep breaths, remembering the breathing exercises he would often use when he got too anxious. 

Breathe in: one...two...three...four...hold. Then let it out: one...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight...

His swirling thoughts eased as he began to relax. 

Where's Spire? 

“Come on.” He led the kittens out of the class chamber and spotted Spire hurrying towards them.

“Come on.” He led the kittens out of the class chamber and spotted Spire hurrying towards them.

“Did it work?” Spire lifted their tail hopefully.

“I—No.” He lowered his voice. “I saw two bodies. It was from a while ago, probably three years, and I think they were Maliterrian.” He shook his head again, trying to shake some sense into himself.

Was that what death looks like? He couldn’t rid the image of the corpses from his mind. It looked like all the life had been sucked from their gazes! Is that what Bramble and Aspen looked like too? He closed his eyes, forcing the image from his head for his own sake. Why has this power succeeded only in bringing me dread?