"The Cat and the Bird" by Sebastian A. Meusel

"Pride is all we have now,
when we´re left with nothing.
To strong to break with muscle,
beyond any pain or suffering."
(Simon Collins: "Pride")


Greewl sat at her table and watched the humans and other beings of De´Rian come in and go out of the seedy inn. It crouched at the intersection of Plaza Tourot and Marketstreet in a rather sleepy part of town. If that could be said about any part of Eschtar, City of War, City of Mercenaries and other undesirable things. But that suited Greewl, daughter of the once proud Van-Beran-As, just fine. Haw,... what a name for her people. But in the clumsy human tongue, it was the only way to describe the Cat-people: "children of wood and ash". Sadly this was a very fitting description, making her heart ache.

Fire, fire everywhere! The sky hovered black above her and heavy smoke obscured the sun. Hot ashes filled her lungs, slowly choking her , breathing became harder and harder.

Greewl straightened apruptly in her seat. Her claws dug deep gashes into the wooden table. Relax, she told herself. All that lies behind you. All that is history now. Like the lives of those lost in the night of the firestorm. All those were now beyond the mists. But she could not let her memories devour the whole evening. She had other business to attend to. Like waiting. If he would only come this night. She had waited three whole days now and he had not shown at least a feather of his damnable body. Sure those damn birds were creepy, and the humans of Eschtar were not in very good standing with their people. But then, they were not in good standing with any of the many people of De´Rian. It was called the city of Mercenaries for no reason. Some of the hardier looking men had sometimes looked her way as if to size her up and decide if she was worth the trouble of some scratches in the face. But she had given them one of her trademark grins and they all had quickly looked the other way. Nobody was stupid enough to catch a fight with a feral beast. The warriors of Eschtar were very good, they had really learned to judge their opponents beforehand. Not to just look into their faces or gawk at their bodies. And as some had told her, her body was quite a sight. Lean and well-muscled with that exquisite feral touch that many men liked these days. Especially her black, white and silver fur made her a major attraction in these parts of the land. The sharp double-edged sword by her side obviously marked her as a warrior. Not that she needed it. She was more than capable with her claws and fangs.
The scent of wine, sharp liquors, human food and humans filled her nostrils and made her retch. She had hoped she would have gotten used to it by now. Lazily, she streched in her seat and let her long lush tail play over the ground. Where was that bird? She should not have trusted the human who had said that the Eylos would show up in this inn. He came once a year, he had assured her and he always came this time of the season of rain. Well, it seemed that this time the bird had gotten his feathers wet and could not fly anymore. Damned may he be. He was the only one who could tell her were she could find her prey.
By now, it was late and more and more customers left the building to go wherever their "business" took them. Well, it was none of her "business". Grinning to herself she ordered another cup of water. Though it tasted slightly foul and brackish it was the only truly edible thing in here. She decided not to wait much longer. She would find her prey eventually, one way or the other. No prey escaped a true cat.
She was the last customer and the maids began eyeing her suspiciously. Envying her fur and her natural grace. One or two of them were quite friendly, but most were afraid of strangers and especially of other races. She got up and paid her dept. The bird had not come. Like the previous two days. Sighing with dissapointment, she walked to the entrance and left the inn behind.
The rain poured down in billions of unending strings. Soaked her coat within seconds. Only a few sheltered torches burned here and there, not nearly enough to light the dark streets. The muddy ground was dissolving into a broad stream of cold water. She had took on the human custom of wearing boots and clothes in this city. Not because of pride or identification with human fashion, but out of necessity. The rain was a constant anoyance to her and she had hated this land as she had first set foot upon it. It was cold and filthy, and the sun was mostly blocked by gray clouds which shed much of their burden over this city. She walked trough the wet streets to her room in one of the more "outlander-friendly" inns. These were quite rare in this city. Well, tomorow was going to be her last day of waiting for that damn bird. She had never seen an Eylos before, but had heard that they were brothers and sisters to birds. Like her poeple were brothers and sisters to the large cats, roaming the jungles and some of the deserts of this world. Exept for one. The great desert in the east. There, no other beast but the scorpion reigned. The scorpions of Lord Arachnar. A thousand times damned may he be.
Something splashed in a puddle a few yards up the streets. Alert, she gazed into the darkness. Not even her ability to see in the darkest of nights did anything against the thick blanket of rain. But her ears worked quite well. She could hear the regular breathing of as many as four humans against the constant dribble of raindrops. One to the left of her, one to the right, two behind her and up front there was a naked wall. They had her surrounded. Well, they obviously did not know who they were stalking. She headed left, judging from the raspy and fast breathing that this one was the most nervous of the pack. And nervous prey was easy prey. The two behind her accelerated their pace as they saw her running into the arms of their comrade. The fourth stayed behind. Obviously letting the others do the dirty work, to partake in the "fun" later. Well, she would give them "FUN".

The one ahead of her walked as casually as he managed. But she smelled his sweat and his arousal. He could not await for his dreams to come true. Human trash.
The he was past her and she could hear him turn around, his feet sliding in the mud. She heard the soft sound of something beeing pulled from under wet clothes and the hissing of his breath as he lifted it above his head to strike her down . He struck.
And almost tumbled into the ankle-deep mud, driven by the force of his strike hitting nothing but air. A puzzled sound came from his mouth. Where was his victim? She had vanished right before his eyes. There was something on the floor. He bent over and picked it up.

-"Eh, watcha got there, Rorn? Where´d she go?!" His companion asked, coming up from behind.

He turned and showed his friends the wet, mudstained cloak she had left lying at his feet.

-"What? Did we follow an empty cloak? A Ghost?"
-"Booohooooowwhooooooo."

Laughing nervously, they looked around unconspiciously. Ghosts were another matter. They had done such things often and in a city like Eschtar nobody would ask questions if a woman or two vanished in a month. Hell, a week. Surely they were not the only ones doing these sports, as they called it. But ghosts. Nobody wanted to fool around with those from behind the mists. But they were not afraid. No. Never.
Then they heard the growl.
Deep and throaty. Coming from everywhere and nowhere around them. Circling them. Out in the dark. At first it was barely audible but it grew louder and closer with every uneasy heartbeat. They looked at each other and bolted.

It had been child´s play and a good way to smoothe the stiff muscles back into prime form. She took the first one out right after she had left the one with the club standing baffled in the rain. The second he had turned around to beat her, she just had pulled herself up on a windowpane above her. She had allowed him and his compatriots to wonder about her empty cloak. Rain made her way over the roofs slippery, but she had managed to silently creep up on the fourth one from above. He was standing at the corner of the streets to watch out for nightly passersby and the occassional pair of guardsmen. Not that he had to fear them. Maybe they would even have joined the fun.
She came upon him in a flurry of silver motion and razorsharp claws. He had not even had enough time to scream. She left her boots and clothes in a semi-dry corner near his corpse and took on the remaining three.

Now she was playing with them. Circling them and growling for all that her throat could give. She had to stiffle a laugh. It slightly surprised her that the three men actually had the brains to run. But that would make the chase so much more fun.
The world became a blurr of water, mud, flickering torchlight, heavy splashing footsteps and panting. She had the first one down after he had only taken a few hasty leaps down the lane. She jumped into his back and ripped out his throat with her left claw in one quick, well- practiced motion.
The second she took out of midrun with a quick slash for his hamstrings. He fell over. Despite the fact that he was allready doomed, he still tried to crawl away from her, his eyes fixed at her like on a fearfull apparation. Grinning viciously, she towered above him and planted a foot on his stomach, digging her hind claws deeper into the tender, unprotected flesh. Then, she crouched over him. Bringing her face near to his. His eyes widened with fear as he beheld the wild predatory look in her large, dark pupils and her cruel grin, glistening with sharp, ivory daggers. She could smell his fear. Oh, how long had she not felt this? How long had she not taken pleasure in the real thrill of the hunt? Since her last hunt with her sisters. Back then.
Since then. Since that day...


Fire everywhere! The sounds of battle! Fire! Blood! Humans! The village burning! Her hut burning! The screams of her dying mate. The shrieks of her dying children.

He was trashing about in panic and one lucky punch hit her right on her weakest spot. The nose. Yeowling with pain she reared back and fell into the mud. Momentarily blinded by the agony she clutched her nose with boths hands and clawed with her feet at the air.

-"Help me, Kerim! Please, help me! Muh leg!"
-"Ah´m comin´ Rorn! Ah´m here!"
-"Where´s Urtar!? Gods, help me. Muh leg! It ate muh leg! Muh leg´s gone!"
-"Urtar´s dead! And your leg´s still ther`! Shut up!"
-"Ooow! It killed Urtar?! Where´s Gorin?!"
-"Ha! The bastard prob´ly ran away when he heard ya scream. Wil´ya shuddup now! I´ll help ya."
-"Kill th´ beast. You´ve got the knife. Kill it! It ate muh leg!"
-"Yo` damn leg´s still ther`!! Shuddup and geddaway from it! I´ll kil`it."

She heard the words through the haze of her pain. And knew she was doomed. If one of them really had a knife, she was dead meat, unable to defend, to strike out, to fight like she had to, like she must. Now she would never have her revenge, never lick the sweet blood of those who had killed so many of her people from her lips. Her prey, those who had cursed her with this waking dreams of terror and thus sealed her fate. She probably would be the only one of all the remaining hunters who would leave her mission unfinished. The last of her sisters and brothers in this world. She would die by her own fault, lying in the mud of an unknown street in a city that did not matter to her. Tainted on body and honor. The blood of one of her killers still on her teeth. That was no way to die for a warrior of the cat-people. At least, she soon would be with her kittens again.

She looked up at her captors as the pain of dying did not come. The hurt in her muzzled still drove tears to her eyes, but eventually, it would subside completely. Why did they not finish her? They just stood there staring. Eyes wide with terror. Staring into the darkness beyond her. What was it they saw there? She could smell that one of them had wet himself. And that the other who had so boldly come back to help his comrade was on the verge of fainting with terror. She listened and heard nothing. The stench of fear from both men was so overpowering that her bruised nose could not smell anything anymore. She dared to turn. And even she gasped.

Out of the rain came a lone figure. Huge and dark. Gleaming with water and the glow of a strange light hovering above it. It closed the distance with purposefull long strides, dark cloak billowing in the wind behind it. A soft hissing sound, a sword was drawn. Gleaming a faint silvery blue in that eery glow above the figure. The light slowly bobbed up and down. And the sword pointed at her two captors.
The one called Kerim let go of his knife, grabbed his comrade instead and lifted him up with a strength born of pure fear. Together they ran, screaming the name of many a dark lord.

The figure aproached her. The sword still gleamed in that strange light. It´s cloak still waved behind its back. It´s skin had a white-grayish tone, like bones. Shadows seemed to caress its body. Seemed to linger around it. It came closer and closer and then, she could see it's eyes. Blue they were, like the sky on a brighte sunny day. But there were no pupils in them. They were cold and devoid of expression. Then it extended a hand.

-"Come, let me assist you. You will not be harmed."

The voice was that of a man. But melodic and deep. She took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. The rain slowly washed the mud from her fur. The stranger wrapped her wet and muddy coat, around her shoulders. He looked into her face.

-"I was looking for you. I am truly sorry that I am so late. It seems that I was to late to meet you at the appointed place, but fast enough to help you here."

What did he just say?! He wanted to meet her? He was the Eylos? The bird? But there was nothing birdlike on him. Exept...
Now she noticed that it was not just a cloak that billowed behind him. He wore a cloak, allright, but it was much to heavy with water to be thrown about by the not overly strong wind.
It were his huge wings, folded behind his back. With these he would have never fit through the door of that damned inn. He had probably waited outside while she was hanging about inside that stinking hole. Damned be the gods of fate!
And he was not that much "birdlike" as she had expected him to be. He looked quite human, but taller and thinner. His upper body was heavily muscled and leather stripes were wound around it in an intricate pattern. Loose fitting black pants and sandals protected his legs. His face was handsome, if your taste was for humans, and his hair jet black. As were his wings. He was a fascinating creature. For a bird. In his right hand he held a long cane, on whichs upper end was a complicated pattern of branches or roots, in which was held a ball of glowing light, slightly larger than a man's fist. Greewl had never seen anything like it and instinctively reached out to touch the strange orb.
Smiling, he held it up a bit higher so that she could not reach it.
-"Sorry, it is not allowed to touch the holy light of the sky."
-"Uhm, oh, sorry! I .... was only curious. Sorry."
-"You don´t have to apologize. I know this reaction."
-"Well, yes. Eh,... are you a priest or something? Carrying that light?"
He chuckled softly.
-"No, we all carry an orb of light with us. It is a piece of our home and our soul. But that is for another hour. Let us go into some dry place and get on with our business."

She nodded, picked up her clothes and they left the dead bodies behind. No one would be surprised in this city to find two dead men lying facedown in the mud.


Luckily the Inn that housed her room had larger doors. And so the two of them sat together some time later. -"By the way, what´s your name? Mine´s Greewl of the Ván-Breán-As."
-"My name in the old tounge is, Sh´arr-Kerdan. Servant of the Burning Glacier. Have you ever seen the burning glaciers of the high Eshveat mountains? They are refreshing in the first light of morning and soothing in the light of the late evening.", a longing gaze driftes out of the window towards the east.
-"You seem to miss your home very much?"
-"Yes. But not as much as you and your people. I have heard of your horrible pledge and what caused it. And I am sorry." Greewl shriked, suddenly furious.
-"Sorry!? You are sorry? For what those damned Drachier and Hethenessians did to my people. They killed almost all of my people in their damnable war. And we didn´t even fight. We just lived on their battlefield. The mercs they´d hired slaughtered everyone. Just because we were in their way. And they liked to kill. We were a peacefull people. And they massacred us.May The Silver Eyed One chain them all in his unbreakable metal. We will bring them before him. We will find them. Every last one of them. And bring them to justice. - They made us what we are now. They made us the Children of Wood and Ash! They will pay. And we will have revenge! So why are YOU sorry for what an Army of mercenaries did?"
The Eylos was taken aback by her sudden fury.
-"I am sorry. That´s all. It pains me to think of all the suffering that you and your people must have been through. And my people once held a grudge against the Drachier too."
-"What? The Drachier fought you? And you still exist?"
-"Well, they fought us and we fought them. In ancient times our two people clashed over the reign of the heavens on this world. De´Rians sky was filled with the screams of the dying and those who wanted revenge against the other side. But our war was just. Not a slaughter like the killing of your people. We warred for a reason and though every other race was beneath us, none of them suffered on our behalf. And we have long since learned to coexist in the heavens. The Drachier and my people are dying races too,but by our own fault so we can no more afford to fight over the endless sky and over ancient wrongs. We have learned to forgive but have not forgoten."
-"Well, we will never forget nor forgive. We will bring these mercenaries down, every last one of them and I think you allready guessed why I wanted to speak with you."
-"Yes, I think I might know the reason for this meeting. You are seeking the whereabouts of a certain Captain of Eschtar. A man widely known as "Wroon the Faceless One", a leader of the Eschtarian Mercinaries. And I think it is because he led an Army of his men trough the northern woods some time ago. And you are now out to bring him to justice. Not an easy task as I might add."
Greewl was quite astonished. That Eylos knew more than she had thought. Very clever.
-"Yes! That´s the man I´m hunting. My prey. Can you tell me where to find him?"
-"As I said, it will not be an easy task to accomblish. For he is now quite a bit more prominent then he was back then."
-"What do you mean?"
-"I mean that he is now Dhamán Wroon, Leader of this Citys Army and Warlord of Eschtar."

--- End of Part I---