ponz
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Post by ponz on May 5, 2020 18:41:41 GMT -8
.●♕ WRITING ARCHIVE ♕●.. . . CW: the Golden Kingdom addresses a variety of heavy subject material, including physical/emotional abuse, semi-graphic depictions of character death, parental neglect, complicated relationships with religion, pregnancy/childbirth, and psychological manipulation. While the majority of this content is consistent with what is seen in the original Warrior Cats series, if you are sensitive to any of the following, please read with caution!
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ponz
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Post by ponz on May 7, 2020 13:54:08 GMT -8
— 001 — Ember had never considered himself particularly devout. He didn't believe in The First. Sure, he was raised on the myths of a golden kingdom, but his mother's nightly recitations of noble knights and regal monarchs and the mysterious white entity that pulled all the strings for her three kittens never convinced Embers the way they had his siblings. They were just nursery tales. Surely his mother didn't really believe she was descended from royalty? He was no heir to a long-lost throne, and neither was his brother, who'd always been fixated on the tales of magic lying dormant in a sprawling castle. Ember's family had no royal blood, and that was that. His brother could boast of The First's voice in his dreams, his sister could echo him, and his mother could indulge them both all they wanted. But in the end, it made no difference. Those daydreams went up in smoke the day the fire came.
Fantasies were of no use to him now, not when his family was gone. His mother dead, his siblings missing, his home burnt to the ground. He could have stayed to grieve, but Ember had never been one for facing his problems head-on. Instead, he ran. There was no time to mourn when he focused on the rush of wind in his ears, the feeling of earth moving beneath racing paws, and in whispered confessions to strangers he'd never see again. Sometimes, he remembered the shimmering, oppressive heat of an uncontrollable inferno, and how it had devoured everything he'd ever known. And sometimes, during the quietest hours of night, that visceral brightness was seared into his retinas, haunting him even when his eyes fluttered shut. If he only ran fast enough, the sparks at his heels would never ignite.
Ember left the ashes and cinders behind for the life of a wanderer. He grew up running, shaped by the very path his paws carved. He taught himself to hunt, to act, to thrive, until one day, Embers was no longer an aimless, half-grown scrap of fur, but a limber young tom with a faraway gaze. He could roam where he liked, charm cats as he pleased, learn all he could about other ways of life. And in the absence of company, he managed just fine. It was lonely, sure, but Ember would survive. He always did. The ache of longing could be ignored. He'd simply flit from group to group like a migrating bird, never able to build his own home, but content to find solace in the nests of others.
This moon's companions came in the shape of a tight-knit travelling band of rogues. The small family at the top of its hierarchy were kind enough to let him stay, provided he help hunt for the others, but it wasn't going to become a home. Ember knew that from the start, just like he'd known with the last group, and the group before them, and that group's predecessor, too. Here, he was simply taking a break to soothe weathered paw pads, cracked and dry from weeks of aimless wandering. Once they healed, he would be on his way, older, wiser, and ready to wear down his paws once more. The leader of this rogue group had a daughter, Foxglove. She was near Ember's age, a dainty, flirtatious tortoiseshell with a soft voice and cold eyes. She made every excuse to stay by his side, clearly interested despite his disdain for her. He knew it was her obvious affection for him that had won him a place in their ranks, but it was hard to count his blessings when she crooned unwanted compliments and kept her flank glued to his.
Tonight's campground was a forest clearing. Ember lacked the energy to protest Foxglove tugging him around wherever she pleased, so he found himself settling under the shade of thick canopies besides her gracefully. "Tell me a story," she whispered to him as the sky made its transition from soft daylight to inky darkness. "One you haven't told anyone else before."
"Well, alright," Ember murmured, one ear flicking idly. His stories— and he had many— always blurred together under pressure, fond memories of temporary acquaintances giving over to snippets of the present or haunting flashes of his past. Stars twinkled overhead, just beginning to peek out from the blackness above them. It reminded the cream tom of something he'd nearly forgotten in his time on the road. "Let's see... my mother used to say that every star in the sky was a spirit," he began, still staring up at the galaxies. "She told me that one day, once we're dead and gone, we'd all end up there, too. Our souls would run around the never-ending sky, lighting the night for every descendant that still walks this earth. She talked about that a lot, I remember, and sometimes she'd talk to the stars before she went to sleep, asking them to watch over us." He paused, suddenly nostalgic for a time he rarely let himself remember.
"Your mother must be a fool, then," sniffed an imperious Foxglove, unimpressed, "Because every cat with a lick of sense knows that stars are simply stars. Leave those fairytales for kittens."
Ember's lip curled just slightly. He thought back to his moons spent in the company of clan cats, united in admiring the ancestors that made their home in the stars. Surely old Whitestar or Sootstar would have an indignant reply for Foxglove's brashness. But Ember knew better than to argue with his benefactor. He forced a smile for her and leaned over to press his nose to her cheek. "Rest now," he told her. She preened.
"Goodnight," she sighed, a faint purr curling around each syllable as she draped against him lazily. Under the dim starlight, the ruddy splashes in her fur seemed to glow a brilliant red. In spite of her cold eyes, half-lidded with sleep, she looked like a cluster of coal as it flickered to life. Ember fought the urge to shudder, reminding himself that there was nothing that bound him to these cats. The road was open and he would never forget how to run. He tore his eyes away from the molly and rolled away from her, suddenly unable to bear the thought of her. Foxglove, who had already fallen deep asleep, did not notice.
Ember sighed and lowered himself onto his soft underbelly. His pointed chin found its place atop pale-furred paws, green gaze stinging from a need to rest. Cricket song echoed in the clearing, loud enough to drown out the soft breaths and snores of other cats, but monotonous enough to lull him into a daze where he sat. Ember's eyes, heavy with exhaustion, fluttered shut. The last thing he saw before sleep finally seized him was the sky overhead, each of the many stars just as bright as he remembered.
. . .
Most nights, the dreams he could remember were thick with the acrid smell of smoke. Sulfur would flood his senses, choke him, burn him from the inside out. They weren't quite nightmares, though they certainly weren't pleasant. But this night was different. When he came to, Ember found himself in a glittering expanse of tall grasses and lavender blooms. The sky was painted a rich blue, bursts of electric orange and red streaking through it. This was unusual, particularly because there was no sense of disconnection. Ember was present and aware. He could even feel the soft earth between his toes. A bell's chime, deep and sonorous, echoed in the emptiness, startling him from his contemplation.
A great monster of a cat materialized before him, their form twisting and flickering in and out of existence. With a magnificent glowing white pelt and star-speckled eyes, they towered over Ember as if they were some sort of bear or lion-like creature. He stared in silence at the cat-beast, only the tip of his tail's twitching betraying his surprise. Though the great white cat made no motion to approach, their smile was wolf-like as those glittering eyes narrowed in on the cream tabby. Then, they laughed sharply, stepping forwards on paws that were ghosts in one moment and made of flesh the next.
"Hello, Ember," the cat purred. "I have been waiting for you."
Ember's tail fur spiked as he backed away from the figure, lavender swaying in the imaginary breeze of his dream. Delicate petals were crushed in his hurry, grasses scratching at his flank. This felt too real to be a dream. "Who are you?" he growled. "What do you want?" The cat grinned, sharp teeth glittering in the eerie light of dawn.
"Oh, silly little one." Their great white form rippled again like a desert's mirage, but their gaze never wavered. "You know who I am. I've come to speak with you. Surely you remember your siblings speaking of me?"
Ember swallowed thickly. He did remember. "So you're The First."
"Yes." They ran their tongue over pointed teeth.
"Why are you here?"
The First didn't bat an eye at the venom in Ember's tone. "Just to speak with you," they said. "You see, I've come to make an offer." The First nodded towards the expanse of field behind them, white tail swishing with restless energy. They turned around, bounding through the tall grass. Lavender shivered in The First's wake, staying folded behind them as if it were bowing. At a loss for what else to do, Ember followed after them. They padded through the fields for what felt like an eternity, only slowing once the top of a great castle began to peek over the horizon. It was a massive creation, shining golden in the light of Ember's dream world. Little flickering figures raced around the castle's grounds. Perhaps ghosts, or perhaps just shadows, they gave life to the towering structure. Illuminated by the setting sun, the castle almost seemed to glow.
"Before you lies the Golden Kingdom, or what it once was." The First's voice was soft, not nearly as thunderous as it had been before. "The spirits of my many knights rest here." Ember's eyes wandered as they spoke, trailing over the curve of bell towers and the flickering ghosts that explored freely.
"It was my everything," they continued. "A masterpiece lost to time, but there is still hope to restore it. One of my descendants still lives." Ember peered at The First, surprised to see such raw emotion on their muzzle. It wasn't quite joy. There was too much shadow hidden there for it to be joy. But nevertheless, The First's shimmering pelt seemed to brighten with their excitement. They turned to face him, and for a moment, Ember could see traces of himself; the long ears and angled face, the narrowed waist and sturdy shoulders. "In spite of everything, you have survived. I didn't think you would be my chosen. I thought surely your brother would have—" The First paused, something dark flashing in their starry eyes. "Well, it wasn't meant to be. But you've proved yourself worthy. You've grown into a wise young tom, little Ember, and I believe it's finally time to restore my kingdom. All of this is yours, if you want it."
"So my mother was right?" Ember said, hardly more than a whisper. "We really are your descendants?" The First's glowing eyes crinkled at the edges as they nodded. 'Why didn't you come to us sooner?' Ember wanted to ask them. 'Why didn't you pick him instead?' But the words sat heavy and cold on his tongue, so he did not ask them at all. Instead, he sighed. "I'll do it," Ember said. "I'll lead your kingdom. But you'll have to help me."
"Very well. I hereby strip you of your old life," the great cat rumbled in response. The First's star-speckled eyes glittered as the first cool breeze of the evening whipped through the lavender fields. "Ember is no more. You will henceforth be known as Crown of Embers, monarch of the Golden Kingdom. You will live nine lives in one as you preside over my legacy with my guidance. Do not let me down. You are a ruler now." The First slid forwards and pressed their nose to his forehead.
Ember jolted at the sensation. The First was frigid to the touch. The ice sapped away at him slowly, until his paws were heavy as lead and his whole frame drooped with lethargy. Ember couldn't help but shiver, feeling as though every last ounce of warmth in his body had left him in a rush. He was cold, so very cold, and tired beyond belief, but there was a fire that had been lit deep inside his chest. For all his exhaustion, Ember felt a little bit like a phoenix, withering to nothing until the moment the inferno in his belly overflowed and made him anew. The First stepped away, finally, staring at their descendant with dark eyes. "I will send you an ally in one moon's time," they murmured, smiling just slightly as Ember swayed on shaking paws.
"Long may the Kingdom reign," The First purred, and the lavender field of Ember's dream world went dark.
. . .
Crown of Embers' eyes snapped open, his whole body quivering after that bizarre encounter. He was no longer lying in the forest where he'd curled up to sleep. Foxglove was nowhere to be seen. His fur was damp, plastered to the hard ground, and he felt cold all over. Wherever he was now, it was not where he'd been as he fell asleep. 'No,' thought Embers, a cold feeling settling in his gut, 'I'm somewhere else entirely.' He scrambled to his feet in alarm, paws meeting cool, moss-slicked stone instead of blades of soft grass. Each breath came out in too-fast bursts, his heart pounding with adrenaline or fear or something in between. Everywhere he looked was stone walls or towering pillars, encasing a small central clearing. The overgrown grass there was adorned with a few gnarled trees that had erupted from the earth after centuries of abandonment.
In between cracked stones and the magnificent, towering trees in the quad, a small pool of rainwater had collected. Almost as if in a daze, Embers wandered over to it on shaking legs. He hadn't seen his own reflection in many, many moons. Slowly, he leaned over the water's surface, breath held in anticipation. The face staring back at him was familiar— almost. He looked a little older, a little more haggard. But what was most striking was the spot on his forehead that The First had touched. A stark-white insignia had burned itself onto his temple, in the shape of a simple three-pointed crown. He knew for certain that the crown hadn't been there before. Crown of Embers could only stare in awe, words slipping off his tongue before he could stop himself.
"So it was real. I really am royalty."
No cat was there to answer him, nor was The First. Only the wind passing through the trees made any sound at all. The quiet was almost deafening, and yet Embers shook himself and glanced up from his reflection, cream-furred tail twitching with residual energy. He had a whole castle before him to explore, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little excited. The young monarch bounded across the clearing, heading first towards a conspicuous opening in the castle walls. Green eyes scoured the land around them as he went. Stubborn trails of ivy and thick patches of moss clung to the exterior, nature's way of reclaiming the long-unoccupied space. Inside, though, it was a different story. It was much colder within the castle walls. That, at least, was a welcome reprise from summer's wrath. Crown of Embers padded around slowly, eyes peeled to take in everything around him. The place was nothing like any of the human structures he'd ever seen before. It was massive, for one, larger than even the most impressive human's den. Beyond just that, it was eerily familiar. His mother had once described the home of her ancestors. The details of the memory were fuzzy— it had been a very long time, after all— but everything he could remember was a near-perfect match. The thought made Embers' head spin.
Rather than dwell on his confusion, he continued to wander. The stone walls were cracked in some places, and crumbling in others. But they were intact enough to keep out the wind and rain, and, Embers supposed, that was enough. Crimson banners, each one miraculously untouched by moths, hung from the ceiling. Some were adorned with gold-trim and neat stitching, the detail so fine that Embers could hardly make out the looping calligraphy or gallivanting creatures they portrayed. An occasional suit of armor, rusted but intact, stood guard near corners or doorways. Every few pawsteps, an unlit lantern dangled from chains up above. Crown of Embers observed it all as he wandered, taking in each remnant of humankind that had once called the castle home. He followed the central hall's path as it circled around the courtyard from start to finish. After his fifth loop, Embers finally made his way out through one of the gaps, his head buzzing with unanswered questions and paws beginning to ache just a bit.
Back outside in the clearing, there was at least the comfort of feeling grass underfoot. It felt more like home, there. "One moon..." Crown of Embers mused, settling down at the base of one of the many impressive trees. An ally in one moon's time, The First had said. That left him with more than enough time to learn his way around the castle, and more than enough time to reflect on the past he'd been running from for so long. Now, his history had caught him by the scruff, insistent on keeping him trapped and never letting him forget it. Whether he wanted to or not, it was time to put down roots. For the second time that day, he laid down to rest, welcoming the embrace of sleep. It had been a long, strange first day as king.
As the sun rose past the horizon, dawn's light washing over the sleeping cat in his castle, the courtyard shone a brilliant gold.
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ponz
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Post by ponz on May 13, 2020 17:41:02 GMT -8
— 002 — Crown of Embers' first few nights alone in the castle were quite strange. It was hard to sleep when he could hear the suits of armor in the hall creak and groan, or when the ancient crimson banners flapped without any gusts of wind nearby to move them. It was unsettling to overhear ghostly laughter and the faint sounds of jovial conversation echoing, particularly when he knew he was the only cat there. It was nigh-unfathomable that the displays full of silk and porcelain were somehow pristine and untarnished after years of abandonment. All of it was just... strange. Unearthly, even. The First had said that an ally would arrive within the moon, and with each day he waited, the walls around him seemed to murmur with anticipation. But as the weeks passed him by in a blur, Embers found he was no longer bothered by the castle's oddities. Somehow, against all odds, he'd begun to see it as a home.
It was the dawn of his third week when the pitter-patter of little feet in the floorboards upstairs finally silenced. Embers spent that morning lurking outside the lone mouse burrow's entrance to confirm his suspicions, and by noon, resigned himself to his fate. He'd somehow managed to hunt the castle mice to extinction. So to soothe the growling of his belly, the monarch of the Golden Kingdom would have to leave the comfort of his castle and try his hand at catching something in the fields outside the stony walls. It took no time at all to navigate the winding hallways and staircases back down to ground level. Embers had had plenty of time to learn his way around, after all.
He slipped out of the castle's front entryway gracefully, bounding out onto verdant grasses and letting the gentle heat wash over him with a pleased hum. It was nice outside in the summertime. He'd have to remember to go out more, and not just for food excursions. Crown of Embers' eyes fluttered shut as he gave in to the relaxation. He let himself roam aimlessly, relishing in the ambiance and the pleasant weather. The earth was solid and warm beneath his paws. It felt real. The swaying buds of lavender, still fragrant and blooming well, swayed in the light wind and brushed against his flank as he walked. That felt real, too. As much as he liked the castle, it was nice to be somewhere that didn't feel as if it had come straight from his dreams. He let his mouth drop open just slightly, scenting for prey, and kept his ears pricked for any gentle footfalls or the rustling of scaled underbellies against hard ground. Surely, there was something out here that he could eat.
In his trance, Embers paid no heed to the scent of an unfamiliar cat on the breeze. He was too focused on the hunt to notice the figure standing before him until the young monarch managed to stride right into the stranger's solid chest. He leapt back in a panicked rush, fur spiking, and came face to face with the poor she-cat he'd nearly walked right over. She was smaller than he was, only standing at about shoulder's height, with thick white fur and calico patches across her face. A long, feathery tail was curled around one hind paw, and two pale yellow eyes observed him keenly. "Hello," the stranger greeted, smiling ever-so-slightly at the blatant surprise on Embers' face. "Are you the one I'm supposed to find?" she asked. Still, Embers was shocked silent. Only when the she-cat took a step forwards, mild concern shining in those pale eyes, did he return to his senses.
"Sorry?" Embers managed.
"You see, I saw a cat in my dreams," the calico continued. "They were this big white creature who called themselves The First. They said I'd been chosen to serve the monarch, that there was this kingdom I needed to help protect, and that I'd know when I found them." She trailed off, then, looking him up and down in appraisal. The stranger's eyes caught on the white marking on his forehead, the little crown shape left behind from his first encounter with the apparent deity, and cracked a smile. She had a nice smile. It was a calculating one, but still nice. "I have a feeling I'm in the right place." Crown of Embers smiled back tentatively. "I'm Ember. Um, I mean, I'm Crown of Embers. The monarch of the Golden Kingdom. May I ask your name?"
"Of course," said the stranger, laughing now. "It's Lillian. My name is Lillian. Pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine. And you're the ally that The First promised to send?"
"Yes. I'm a trained herbalist," she said, shaking her tail to reveal a small bundle of dried plants hidden within the thick tufts of fur. Now that she'd shown them off, it made sense that the molly's coat had such a peculiar, earthy scent. "I imagine that's why I was sent here. But I seem to recall The First had another name for that role... A cleric, perhaps? Is that correct?"
"Ah, well," Embers laughed sheepishly. One paw began to shuffle at the dirt between his claws, a sudden flood of nerves overwhelming him in a way he hadn't felt for moons. Maybe it had just been too long since he'd seen another friendly face. "I believe so? It's been quite some time since I was told anything about how this Kingdom is supposed to work. Cleric sounds about right." His new companion merely nodded, accepting this declaration easily. For a moment, Embers wished he could be as unflappable as she seemed. Her whole life had been uprooted, surely, just to come to his aid, and the little calico had yet to even mention it. It made him wonder. Was she perhaps keen to leave behind her past as well? Clearing his throat, Embers addressed her again. "If you'd like, I could give you a new name."
"Like the strange one you have now, right?" He nodded. Lillian hummed to herself, before she raised both shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "Mmm, I don't see why not. Turning over a new leaf and all that."
This time, it was Crown of Embers' turn to inspect Lillian from head to toe. She was small and delicate, with a name to match, but by no means frail. There was a sturdy frame beneath that thick coat of fur, and an almost serene calmness in her posture. She was perfectly at ease, poised, and capable. A lily flower, soft and poisonous all at once. "How about Lily's Grace?" he offered, testing the sound on his tongue as he watched her face closely for a response.
"Lily's Grace," Lillian echoed. After a moment, she smiled. It was a gentle smile, a flattered one. "That's pretty. I like it. Does this make me a part of your Golden Kingdom now?"
"There's more space in here than you could possibly imagine," he answered, gesturing grandly around the castle interior with a swoop of his tail. Lily's pale eyes glittered with a quiet amusement. "Please, make yourself at home."
. . .
Nightfall arrived sooner than Embers had expected. In his weeks alone at the castle, he'd somehow forgotten how good company could make time fly. With Lily's Grace there to keep him occupied, the hours melted away faster than dewdrops beneath his paws. It had been a busy day, too. He'd given his new companion a tour of the castle grounds and helped her to set up a little cleric's den in what had once been a wine cellar. Afterwards, once they'd repurposed old barrels into nests for patients and storage racks into herb stores, they tidied the room of all the cobwebs in its corners and shared a small bird that Embers had caught earlier. Together, they wasted the last of their daylight hours relaxing in the courtyard with quiet chatter between friends.
Only when a heavy rain set in did they finally decide to part ways for the evening. "Goodnight," Embers bid the cleric, nodding politely to Lily as she retreated back to the cellars for the evening. She gave a gentle wave of her tail, echoing his sentiment, before disappearing from view and leaving the monarch alone to his thoughts. Embers, though, was still too awake to fall asleep. There was a thrumming in his paws, a sort of itch that he just knew would keep him conscious until it faded. Rather than waste time attempting to sleep, he began to wander. Through the half-hidden chambers and ancient bedrooms, slipping between library shelves and balancing carefully on the edge of an ancient stone hearth. The castle was never truly silent, but tonight, only the drum-beat of rainfall echoed in his ears. Maybe that meant something, Embers thought, or maybe he was a superstitious fool. But with all of the odd things that had happened in the past moon, the monarch couldn't fault himself for a little bit of superstition.
It was because of his restless pacing that he circled around past the entrance in the early hours of the morning. The castle's oppressive silence was starting to get to him. This was a place that needed to be full of life, bustling and vibrant and home-like, and if it couldn't have cats, it at least needed to have those odd little noises and rustles and shadows. It felt like the castle was holding its breath, this way. And that was when Embers heard something. He could just barely pick it out it, faint as it was, but he could feel it in his bones. There was a soft, wheezy sound coming from outside of the door. He halted his walk, peering with interest at the door just in time to pick up another quiet exhale, nearly drowned out by the rain. So Embers threw caution to the wind, and pushed his way through.
The old oaken door groaned at the impact, but it obeyed, swinging open to allow the monarch passage. He looked out, eyes narrowed, hardly able to see anything distinct in the murky darkness of night. Raindrops flecked his whiskers and forehead. Half-convinced it had all been a dream, Crown of Embers sighed. It was about time to give in to the exhaustion that had been pricking at him, anyways. And then there was a sneeze. The monarch looked down, started, to see a little scrap of fur with wild green eyes huddled for shelter at the foot of the castle's entrance. "Hello," Embers greeted gently, stooping down to meet her eyes. The gangly kitten flinched instinctively as he approached, but didn't move away. She just leered at him with stubborn bravery. "What are you doing out here so late?" Her blue fur was soaked through, and after a moment of hesitation, the cat relaxed.
"Ran away," she murmured, voice shaky but somehow deeper than he had expected. "From a bad place."
"Oh," he said. There was really no better way to respond. "Are you alright?"
"I'm cold," the kitten sniffled. "Is it warm in there?" Up close now, Embers could see the ooze seeping from watery, swollen eyes and a running nose that had left the fur of the kitten's chin crusty and matted. His heart ached with sympathy.
"It's very warm inside," he murmured. "Why don't you come in? I'll get you all dried up." Those bleary eyes peered up at him, narrowing for a moment in wary consideration. The kitten finally sighed, tilting forwards on wobbly legs and nearly collapsing against Embers' chest. Her blue fur was ice-cold and drenched, and a miserable little purr erupted as she burrowed into the dry cat's warmth. Embers wasted no time in scooping her up off the soggy ground by her scruff and nudging the kitten onto his back. He didn't care that the muck and mud on her coat was surely going to rub off on his own cream fur. What mattered was getting the little one to safety.
"Lily!" he barked, sharp and urgent. The sound echoed in the empty stone corridors as he raced towards the cellars at a breakneck pace. "Lily's Grace! I need your help!"
. . .
In the heart of the castle's wine cellar, a small fireplace roared. It had taken a great deal of engineering for the two cats to figure out how to light it, but now that the small stack of logs was aflame, the warmth had begun to overpower the cellar's natural chill. A small barrel, split down the middle with age, had been rolled over to form a den-like dome besides the hearth. Many of its wooden slats were stained a deep crimson, and the whole barrel still smelled faintly of heady-sweet fruits. Several stray burlap sacks were shoved beneath it like a layer of blankets, and even one moldy feather pillow from what must have been a King's chambers had been added to the nest. It was quite the cozy little structure. He could only hope it would help the little molly feel better.
"She wasn't dying, you know," Lily's Grace said gently, voice soft so as not to disturb the sleeping kitten nestled within the barrel. "Malnourished, exhausted, and struck with quite the nasty cold, but certainly not in immediate danger. It's okay. You can relax now." Both monarch and cleric made uneasy eye contact for a few moments, before Crown of Embers finally let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.
"Thank you," he said in reply, tension seeping from his frame. "I don't know what I would have done without you." Lily hummed.
"It's my job, isn't it?" she drawled lightly. There was a purr in her words that betrayed her good humor, and her wry grin all but confirmed it. He smiled back at her. Embers didn't trust The First, not really, but they'd done an alright job with picking Lily. A quiet rustling sound drew their attention, and the conversation trailed off into silence. "She's waking up," Lily observed, eyeing the monarch by her side. "Why don't you talk to her? I'll give you some privacy." Without another word, she whirled around and slipped out of sight, though Embers was almost certain he could still see the glint of her pale eyes in the darkest corner of the cellar. He huffed out a laugh. Of course, she'd want to keep an eye on their little patient. The cleric was much less subtle than she'd like to think. Crown of Embers turned back to the overturned wine barrel when the rustling grew louder, and smiled just a bit at the ginormous yawn that followed. Inch by inch, the little blue molly wriggled her way out of the makeshift nest, She was hardly eight moons, if what Lily had guessed was correct, with a scruffy blue coat and curled-back ears that made her look even younger. "You're awake!" Embers said softly, peering down at the kitten as she stretched out lazily. "Hello! Are you feeling better?" The sound of his voice drew her attention, and both green eyes shot up to meet his. But she didn't seem frightened, just confused.
"Where am I?" the kitten sniffled. Her words were still distorted from cold, but they were much more distinct than before. Lily's herbs had clearly started working, and Embers was once again struck with a wave of gratitude for the cleric. "Who're you?"
"I'm afraid I forgot to tell you my name last night," he said, kneeling down so as not to tower over the little one. It was true. He'd been too panicked to even think of making introductions. "I'm Crown of Embers, and I'm the monarch of the Golden Kingdom."
"Well, I'm River," she said, chest puffing up with pride. And then, she giggled. "Has anybody ever told you how weird your name is?"
There was a sudden snort from somewhere in the cellar, which quickly trailed off, but both Embers and River nearly jumped at the sound. The monarch huffed, glancing back to the dark corner of the den, where Lily's Grace was trying her hardest to stifle laughter and make herself scarce. "Yes," he sighed, shaking his head and fighting his own amusement. "You would not be the first." River glanced back to the shadows with curiosity, trying to catch a glimpse of the other cat that had made noise. While she searched fruitlessly for Lily, who had already changed her hiding spot to deter the young molly, Embers cleared his throat to make a proposition. "Last night," he began, "you said you ran away. Do you have anywhere to stay? You're welcome to live here with us, if you'd like."
The young molly tilted her head, thinking for a moment. "I'd like that," River decided aloud, her curled ears flicking. "You guys are nice. Lots nicer than the cats where I came from." Still, there was worry in her eyes. Before River opened her mouth, she hesitated. "Do I... have to do anything to stay here? 'Cause back where... where I used to be, I had to earn everything I got, and it was really hard work. Hunting, and building, and making the higher-ups happy, and stuff. I really wanna stay here, I do! But I just don't wanna be a burden."
"No, you could never be a burden," Embers said, a sinking feeling in his gut, though he knew better than to let his horror at her treatment show. "You don't owe us anything." But River fixed him with a look so skeptical, the monarch was left scrambling for a compromise. "If you really want something to do, you could be my squire," he offered. "How about that?" Now, it was River's turn to look confused. "What's a squire?"
"Well," he said, haltingly, "a squire is... hmm. Maybe I should explain from the top. Do you know what a knight is?" "Sure I do!" River chirped, face lighting up. "Knights are like, really strong warriors that can fight and stuff. They protect their friends and rescue cats in need. They're heroes!" There was admiration in her words, the sort of nostalgic, childlike glee that Embers hadn't felt in a very long time. He was just glad that the little molly had been taught her nursery-tales, after all.
"That's exactly right," he said brightly. "But before a cat can become a knight, they have to be trained. A squire is what we call those cats who are still learning how to be good knights."
"Okay," she said, looking back up at Crown of Embers with eyes gleaming. "And if I become a squire, I can live here with you guys?"
"Of course," he promised her, sincere as he could be. The declaration felt final, and for a moment, he could feel a presence nearby. The First was watching, and they were pleased. It was a cold, unpleasant feeling, which Embers did his best to shake off before addressing the squire once more. "Here in the Golden Kingdom, we call our squires by a special title. Yours would be Young River, and for now, you can be my squire. You earn a new name once you've studied enough to become a real knight."
"That's fine with me!" she said, already moving again in her makeshift nest as she struggled back up to her feet. "What do I learn first?"
He laughed, gently nudging her back down onto the makeshift nest. "Why don't you focus on feeling better first? We can start training tomorrow."
"Come on," River whined, flopping over petulantly. She was still sniffling, "Pleeeeeaaase? I don't wanna stay in here all day."
Crown of Embers bit his lip, glancing back to the other end of the room for Lily's Grace to offer input. There was no sign of those flashing yellow eyes, so this one would have to fall to his own judgement. And Embers had never been very good at saying no to a pleading kitten. So with a sigh, he relented, and soon a grinning bundle of fur was barreling into his chest with a chorus of thankful laughter. "We're going to tour the castle, alright?" he told her firmly, in no uncertain terms. "And that is it. You're heading right back to your nest when we're through." River nodded innocently, tail tip twitching in that way that promised she wasn't listening to a word, and followed him as he led the way out of the cellar at a snail's pace. And though she coughed and sneezed and gasped for breath with every few steps, River couldn't keep her delight concealed. Sometimes it was easy to forget how special Embers' castle was, but having a fresh set of eyes was an wonderful reminder of just how amazing it could become.
He was going to get a thorough chastising from Lily's Grace for indulging their patient's whims, Embers was sure, but seeing the awe on Young River's muzzle firsthand was worth all the while.
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ponz
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Post by ponz on Jun 3, 2020 18:41:53 GMT -8
— 003 — Bee stared up at the towering castle, tail shielding her eyes from the bright glare of the sun. At first, she'd dismissed it as a hunger-fueled hallucination. Food was hard to come by, after all, and she could feel the jut of her ribs growing more and more pronounced each day. But the longer she wandered the plains, the clearer it became. A steady hill supported a massive stone castle, sticking out like a thorn in a paw. But as strange as it was to see raised earth in the middle of endless golden prairie, there was no denying it. Bee wasn't hallucinating. This was real.
If she wanted to shelter there, she'd have to climb the thing, and quickly. A nasty autumn thunderstorm was coming, and if Bee had learned anything from her time on the run, it was that staying in the open during a thunderstorm was just asking for bad luck. She sized up the massive stone building once more. It looked nearly impenetrable, but she was desperate.The kittens were starting to move around, and with them came the hunger pangs. If she didn't find somewhere to sleep and something to eat, she might not be the only one to die. Bee hated their father, deeper and fiercer than she had ever hated before, but the kittens weren't going to be his. They were hers. She'd run off far enough to ensure that, and there was no point in having gone this far if she couldn't even keep the little ones alive before they were born.
Bee sighed, bracing herself to clamber up the hillside. and sucked in a deep breath. And then she stopped. Her jaw fell open just slightly as she scented the nearby air again. The sun-dried wheat and wilting wildflowers at the foot of the hill all reeked of cat-scent. The whole valley did! She could only assume that the smell of petrichor and the looming thunderstorm had overwhelmed her senses, distracting her from the fact that she was on some other cat's turf. "Great," Bee snarled. "S'posing I can make in, I'll hav'ta fight for it. Jus' my luck." Even then, with the threat of hostile strangers ahead of her, starvation was a cruel mistress. There was no choice left for her but to climb.
It was a long hike uphill to reach the main entrance, but the earth was smooth and lush underfoot all the way to the top. Any small holes or animal dens had been filled with fresh earth recently enough that the wheat had yet to regrow, packed so tightly that hardly a fleck of mud stuck to Bee's weary paws. Whoever lived in the place clearly cared about the land's upkeep. By the time she reached the top, Bee could see even more evidence of occupants living within. The castle's massive marbled oak doors towered over Bee's tiny golden-furred frame, and fresh claw marks against the weathered wood carved an intricate pattern that she might have appreciated, had she any food in her belly. Weather-worn scarlet pennants hung from the corners of every castle tower. Bee knew this because she had to walk the full perimeter, following older pawsteps that circled the entire castle's edge. But most importantly, Bee discovered this: there was no opening in sight that her scrawny pregnant frame could wriggle through. The beautiful fortress could only be entered through the doorway.
Bee's resulting stream of curses was deeply unladylike. Just as she began to consider sleeping up against the side of the stone wall in hopes it might provide rain cover, the clouds rumbled again overhead. Autumn storms brought autumn winds, rustling straggly stalks of wheat and crumpled flora at her paws, and amidst the stench of electricity in the air, a new foreign smell began to tickle at her nose. If she had to guess, it was a little bit of wet fur, rusted metal, and maybe something ever-so-slightly salty. The strange scent and the sudden crunch of dried grass underfoot were Bee's only warnings that someone was approaching her from behind.
"Hey!" A gruff, throaty bark came from somewhere in her blind spot. "Hey, you!"
"What d'you want?" Bee spat, whirling on her heel with fangs bared. "You followin' me? Tryin' to fight?"
The stranger stood only a few paces away, watching her with cold yellow eyes and a wary stare. He was small for a grown tom, but with a well-built physique that even his unruly red fur couldn't hide. It made no sense. How had this tom snuck up on her? Where had he come from, anyways? Bee grit her teeth. She reckoned she could take him if it came down to it, or at least leave him battered by the end.
The stranger blinked, a look of confusion crossing his face for a moment, but the expression was quickly replaced with one of appraisal. "Why would I fight you? We're one and the same. Cats of the Kingdom?"
Bee could only stare at the stranger. She had come expecting a quick scrap or territory dispute, sure, but she certainly hadn't expected... whatever the tom had just spewed. It seemed that the stranger could at least pick up on that.
"So... you didn't have that strange dream?" he asked, looking at her oddly. It was almost like he couldn't decide whether to laugh or to cry. Instead, he remained quiet, staring intently and blending in with the dark red of the storming sky and pale, dry grass he stood upon. "The one about the scary white cat, divine destiny, the kingdom? Remember that?"
"I don't have a clue what you're talkin' about," Bee said, eyes narrowed. "I'm jus' lookin' to get shelter from the storms, if I can even get inside th' damned castle."
"Oh," the strange tom muttered, with a certain sort of disappointment in his voice that Bee found rather grating. "Well, do you at least know where we are? I was at home when I fell asleep, but then I had the dream, and I woke up here. Something's not right."
"You're askin' the wrong cat," Bee drawled. "But it's the plains, I s'pose. What else does this look like t'you?"
The stranger gave no answer, leaving both cats at an impasse. Rolling thunder overhead was the only sound that broke the silence, before a tremendous, creaking groan sounded from within the castle's bounds. The mighty oak wood doors were still sealed tight, but that did nothing to stop the stranger from nearly jumping out of his skin at the noise. Bee was too exhausted to waste energy on responding to the eerie sound. "Quiet!" he hissed at her, leaping in front of Bee on principle. After all, it was just common courtesy to look after the expecting. "Someone's coming."
Another long, low creaking sound from inside the castle followed shortly after. As the stranger's red fur began to bristle, the marbled oak doors finally, finally began to budge. One final groan came from the heavy doors as they moved, revealing a small gap between them that was just large enough for a cat-sized creature to slip through. Before either Bee or her unnamed companion could act, a lithe figure squeezed through the opening with surprising gracefulness, followed by a smaller, stouter one. In the lead was a cream-furred oriental tom with a strange white marking on his forehead. His wide green eyes flashed in the dim outdoor lighting, narrowing with suspicion or curiosity at the two cats on his doorstep that he towered over. Flanking him was the shorter cat, a long-furred calico with a soft, unassuming look to her. Still, she matched her leader with a wary stare in Bee's direction and the stark white of her unsheathed claws. Bee growled at them both in warning and glanced to her stranger for support. Much to her surprise, she found none.
The fool had gone slack-jawed, stunned into silence at the sight of the much larger tom. Bee hadn't a clue if it was from fear or recognition, but she really didn't care. The storm was getting a little too close for comfort, and making a break for it was starting to look more and more appealing. "I am Crown of Embers," said the first cat from the castle, straightening his posture and subsequently towering over both Bee and her stranger even further. "But just Embers will do." Crown of Embers, or Just-Embers, or whatever, flashed them a surprisingly affable grin for such a scary-looking cat. Bee didn't trust him. The calico by his side gave him a sharp nudge, and the tom jerked. "Oh! I am the Monarch of the Golden Kingdom, which you see before you. Tell me, what business do you have here?"
"You... you're the cat from my dream," Bee's stranger managed, yellow eyes still fixed on the marking on the oriental tom's face. The more Bee squinted at it, the more the distinct white splotch started to resemble something more concrete... perhaps a three-pronged crown?
"Dream?" Crown of Embers asked, sharing an unreadable look with his companion.
"Yes," he said, nodding almost frantically. "You see, I was somewhere else, and when I fell asleep, I dreamed of a great white cat who told me that there was a fire that needed tending to. I woke up here after that."
"What about her?" the other cat, the soft-looking calico, asked him coolly. Her eyes were a clear, watery yellow, and she watched Bee as if she were going to eat her alive. Bee decided then that she didn't trust this new molly, either.
"Oh, she was here when I woke up," he said. "She threatened me the moment she saw me."
"I was 'ere first, is what I was," Bee snapped, unable to help herself. "M'looking for somewhere to shelter. That's all. No crazy dreams or any of that nonsense."
Crown of Embers looked almost as if he wanted to laugh, but the rapidly-darkening sky above them gave another ominous growl. Instead, he just nodded. "We can debate later. The weather is worsening faster than I'd expected. My companion here is Lily's Grace, a trained herbalist and the cleric of my kingdom, and I'd like to have her check you both for injury or illness. But first... please tell me, what are your names?" The stranger and Bee glanced at one another quickly in a silent argument over who would speak first.
"M'name's Bee," she said, after a pause, long tail sweeping over her stomach protectively.
"Adder, at your service," said Bee's stranger, bowing politely like a show-off. Bee decided she hated him a little bit, too.
"It's a pleasure," Crown of Embers purred, tilting his head to them both. "If you'd like to become knights of the Golden Kingdom, I can promise you both plenty of food and a home here with us, in exchange for your allegiance and your help defending and providing for the kingdom as a whole. And as for you, Bee, I can guarantee a safe place to have and raise your kittens. I could never turn away a mother in need." Bee scoffed at the sentiment, but the offer did sound awfully tempting.
"What's the catch?" she rasped, eyes narrowed. Lily's Grace matched Bee's leer, and Adder shot her a bewildered glance, but Crown of Embers just smiled.
"There is no catch. I'd just ask that you take on new names in keeping with our customs. Perhaps something like Adder's Hiss for you, Adder? And for Bee... Honeybee's Wing?"
"Done," Adder said quickly, smiling for the first time since Bee had met the tom. "I think that's what the white cat called me in the dream, actually. It would be my honor to serve as one of your knights."
Nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this was what she'd expected when she sought out the castle for shelter. As much as Bee detested the idea of working for some kind of overlord, she knew full well that she was hungry, and alone, and the sole caretaker of her unborn kits. If it meant having a warm, dry place to sleep through the storm, she'd let them call her anything they liked. "Whatever," she snarled, shouldering past the monarch and cleric to enter the castle. "I'm starvin'. Please tell me you've got some food 'round here." Lily's Grace and Crown of Embers shared a quick look, again, just as the first fat raindrops finally broke from the clouds above and splattered to the ground in a flurry. Shuddering as the cold rain pelted her fur, Lily turned tail and chased after Honeybee's Wing. "Food stores are to the left of the central courtyard!" she called, the words growing more muffled the deeper the cleric ventured into the castle. Embers watched her leave, allowing his own shorter coat to get wet as lightning flashed behind him. Adder's Hiss glanced at his monarch only once before following the other two, likely in a hurry to stay dry. With every other cat inside, Crown of Embers stepped back into the castle as well and shook the raindrops from his coat. Next, he sank his teeth into the worn rope attached to the oaken door from within. It took a great deal of tugging, but after a few moments, the castle entrance finally slammed shut with a resounding clang.
"Adder's Hiss and Honeybee's Wing," Crown of Embers said softly, once he had spat out the last of the rope's fragments from between his teeth. "Welcome, both of you, to the Golden Kingdom." . . . SCENE TWO Lily Pov - lily and embers discuss the first/lack of belief when honeybee gets settled in. embers is concerned over why cats are getting ripped from their old lives. - ember's recollections of past flings - honeybee grumbles to herself while she is the subject of conversation - the ever-nosy lily grills embers about everything he remembers from his mother. embers leaves, contemplating his past. "this just doesn't seem right."
It was always warm in the cleric's cellar, now that Lily's Grace was living there.
"I'm worried about her," Crown of Embers said, just above a whisper. "Surely you can see it, too... Bee looks as if she hasn't eaten in weeks.
aaa (thought you had to rename, that's just the first's policy, I don't love it myself. i'm worried about it, honestly) (
Honeybee's Wing paced around the nest two, three, four times, until she seemed satisfied. (she flops down, tells them to stop gossiping about her, and rolls around to sleep.) (lily apologizes, turns to him and says are you sure that's all you remember?) (embers leaves the den as requested, muttering to himself.)
SCENE THREE River Pov - river roams the castle and notices a peculiar moving tapestry. it freaks her out so she leaves the room. she already knows about the first, remembers how they helped her to escape, but she doesn't like them. - embers appears after his conversation with lily, and river makes him join her for training so she can forget about what she saw.
Young River always grew restless during stormy weather. It wasn't the rumbling of thunder that got to her, the melancholy grey skies, or even the bone-deep cold of wet fur from the rain. No, it was the confinement. Being stuck inside the castle, even if it was for her own safety, left her whole body itching with the urge to do something, anything! She could hardly stand it. River paced around the remains of the Great Hall, too frazzled to curl up in her nest of field grass and feather down. Crown of Embers and Lily's Grace were busy with the newcomers, so she couldn't ask them for something to do. And even if they weren't, if they happened to be lounging about without a care in the world, River still wouldn't be able to bring herself to ask. She was practically a grown cat, anyways, and a good squire didn't demand attention just because they were feeling lonely. A good squire could take care of themselves, and make their kingdom proud. She owed her rescuers that much.
There wasn't much for her to do, so, she figured, one more jaunt around the Golden Kingdom's grounds couldn't hurt.
"Huh." River's tail curled inquisitively. "Has this always been here?"
Not once had she stumbled across this particular decoration, in spite the thousands of times she'd run through the castle corridors.
(the tapestry moves)
(runs from the room and bumps into embers)
"This castle's a weird place," she said, sneaking glances at the corridor that she'd just run through. "Why'd you pick to live here, anyways?"
"I didn't," Crown of Embers sighed. "The First brought me here."
"The First," River muttered, her nose crinkling. "They're kinda freaky. I don't like 'em."
"You've met them?"
"Mhm," (flashback). "Can we talk about it another time?"
(teach me again how to do that move.)
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ponz
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Post by ponz on Jun 3, 2020 20:19:58 GMT -8
— 004 — WRITING WIP
- duchess drops off the royal kittens. she seems confused as to how she arrived at the kingdom, and quickly disappears again afterwards. crown of embers is shaken by this, former distrust of the first rekindling somewhat as he is left to name his unexpected kittens alone. (surrogacy, why is he given custody of another family's kits, etc)
- honeybee thinks about her own upcoming litter, still keeping to herself in the kitchens, and laments the dullness of her claws.
- adder grapples with his identity as a knight, struggling with flashbacks and faith issues, while taking over young river's training for the day.
- otter shows up, and immediately does not get along with lily. lily decides to keep a close eye on him. otter is only respectful to the king, and retires to the throne room with a parting warning to "put away the past."
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ponz
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Post by ponz on Jun 12, 2020 14:24:01 GMT -8
— 005 — WRITING WIP
- newcomer aster's petal arrives on the border, and unlike any other cat, shows no fear in the face of otter's fang. while otter is genuinely impressed by the younger molly, he cannot help his suspicion over her knowledge of the first despite not having met the deity in question.
- young cloud, another newcomer to have (presumably) been sent by the first, stares longingly across the moors. her mentor, adder, struggles to connect with her, although they do find common ground in being uprooted from a life that they know they cannot return to.
- young river's training session with crown of embers is cut short when otter's fang summons the monarch to interrogate another newcomer. rather than train alone, she seeks out royal kittens aspen and birch. they drag her into a game of pretend, and an amused river realizes that she has matured significantly since joining the kingdom.
- honeybee finally goes into labor and is (reluctantly) assisted by lily.
- feeling emotionally unsettled after meeting aster, embers tucks his kittens in to bed and falls into a fitful sleep. he is visited by the first in his dreams, and is told that his image as a monarch is slipping by rearing two "illegitimate" heirs. the first declares that they will hunt down a consort, and warn embers against failing their standards again.
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ponz
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Post by ponz on Jun 18, 2020 14:03:06 GMT -8
— 006 — WRITING WIP
- flirtatious morning, a refugee from a collapsed clan, stumbles across the castle. while giving him a routine check for health, lily discovers that morning is an immensely talented healer, but she is unable to convince him to work alongside her. (uninterested in playing doctor for vagabonds, wants to find love, etc). lily refuses to give up.
- otter, having been assigned babysitting duty to allow embers time to mentor his squire, is forced to run all around the castle grounds to keep aspen and birch in check. only when he promises to teach them about "royal things" do they agree to stay put. otter's stone heart begins to melt, just a bit.
- river finally mentions the tapestry to embers, curious about the battling it depicts. he is reminded of the customary tournament, and accidentally lets slip his fears about the first having it out for his kittens. river reassures him the best she can, but resolves to keep a close eye out regardless.
- adder has another vision of a past lover, and when he stirs from the trance, he finds that he has wandered into the nursery. honeybee begrudgingly introduces him to her kittens, as he had been avoiding them up until this point.
- aster returns from a "day trip" with a stranger, koi, in tow. they converse about the kingdom in hushed tones before lily interrupts them. something about the encounter feels wrong, but she lets it slide.
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ponz
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Post by ponz on Jun 30, 2020 13:46:14 GMT -8
— 007 — WRITING WIP
- lily bandages up a scratch on tiny canary's paw, while perpetrator goldfinch is sentenced to sort herbs. lily calls out to who she assumes in honeybee watching, but morning reveals himself. another friendly argument over joining the clerics occurs.
- honeybee practices her sparring moves in the nursery while enjoying a rare moment of alone time. adder stumbles into the nursery again, and offers to help her. after a moment of humiliated shouting, she concedes, and a wonderful frenemy-ship is born.
- otter allows aspen and birch to weave flowers into his tail, but not without giving them stern words of advice for the future. embers interrupts, sweeping his kittens into a hug, but advisor and monarch worry about the threat of a "consort" arriving to disrupt the fragile balance of power.
- river paces around and tries not to stress over her upcoming knight's assessment. moon-brained cloud is unhelpful.
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ponz
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Post by ponz on Jul 11, 2020 22:15:35 GMT -8
— 008 — WRITING WIP
- embers comes to in the throne room, head feeling fuzzy after another night of ominous dreams from the first, and finds himself face to face with an equally-disturbed khione. she sends him away to do his monarchical duties, insisting that she needs time to process the life she has just been forced into. an apologetic embers leaves to give her space, but he cannot help the sick feeling in his gut.
- young river wakes up from her last night spent in the squire's den thanks to cloud's tossing and turning. she sneaks outside for fresh air, where first-summoned knight shadow and their adopted kitten raven are awaiting entry.
- adder interrupts honeybee's rest with three kittens in tow. honeybee consents to care for them, as she owes him a favor. canary and goldfinch are just excited to have new playmates.
- young river is made river's melody in a sentimental knighthood ceremony. aspen and birch, waiting in the belltower, ring the bell for her in celebration. curiously, the bell chime sounds different for each kitten.
- lily coddles kitten raven in her check-up while shadow keeps a watchful eye. khione interrupts them, and though she hesitates to use the title, introduces herself as the queen when pressed.
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ponz
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Post by ponz on Aug 19, 2020 17:09:08 GMT -8
— 009 — WRITING WIP
- embers and khione, now snow's shimmer, go for a walk around the castle perimeter. they discuss his responsibilities as a monarch and her responsibility as consort. after some soul-searching (and the discovery that they are both aromantic), they decide to prioritize building a stable friendship as the heads of the monarchy. only once they know one another well enough will they start a family.
- after visions of rainbow koi, regrets from past lives, and a monumental white cat haunting their dreams, a young cat wakes up in the great plains with a castle off in the distance. they figure that opal seems like a good enough name and make their way towards what they suspect will only be another temporary life to live.
- lily struggles to remember the names of all of the new cats that have arrived in the kingdom over the past moon. morning makes fun of her by easily recalling them all (shadow, raven, minnow, stag, firefly, moth, wasp, snow, koi, himself). just then, a demure rabbit enters the cleric's den and introduces herself shyly. lily shoos morning from her den so that she can do her job.
- aspen and birch have finally reached the minimum squire's age. although they know they have to wait another few days for a mentor to be chosen, they celebrate the milestone by dragging all of the other kittens in the nursery into a game of chase.
- embers gives an official welcome to the many newcomers to the kingdom. otter's fang announces that the first tournament will be held on the dawn of the next moon. many cats celebrate, but aster seems impatient. rabbit and koi share a concerned look.
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