Cymite had always been the smallest of the group. Some of the other cats teased her and picked on her. She didn't have a single friend amongst the other cats. Most of the time, no one wanted to stick up for her or help her out with the work, fearing that they, too, would be teased.
Flecka, Cymite's older, respected sister, frequently stuck up for Cymite. But, no matter how much Flecka tried, she couldn't end the teasing.
Cymite was a member of the Group of Majic and Rescue. At the time, the Group of Magic and Rescue was racing to the rescue of yet another cat. Today, they had already saved three cats, and tried but failed at saving fifteen. The deaths and captures of so many cats was saddening, but there had been greater losses on other days. Several of the other cats were beginning to be desensitized from all of the terrible events that had played out before their eyes during the past few weeks. Still, almost all of them cried when they failed saving the life of a cat.
Cymite heard Clorfly calling to the cats trailing behind her. Cymite listened. "Target approaching! Rapidly!"
Cymite, with the other cats, readied herself for the usual devastating explosion that always announced the position of a Demon Cat. Of course, Demon Cats had not given themselves the name. They called themselves Dragonstone Cats.
The island that the Dragonstone Cats lived on before the Attack was called Demon-Dragon earning them their names.
No explosion came. The Group of Majic and Rescue shifted nervously. "Hold you positions, everyone!" Clorfly ordered, always ready and prepared for a Demon Cat attack. She was respected by her cats and was the unnamed leader. She was a Sentee, which was the highest rank for The Cats.
And then it came.
A white-hot explosion blew up the ground inside of its radius. The dying trees close by burst into flames. Smoke filled the air, making the Group of Majic and Rescue cough and choke on the poisoned air.
A cat's silhouette appeared, the area of the explosion was engulfed in smoke. Then, the shape of the cat formed before Cymite and the other Group of Magic and Rescue's eyes. A collective gasp went around the room. It was Biclaw!
Biclaw was the leader of the Demon Cats or Dragonstone Cats or whatever you would like to call them. He was an evil mastermind. Cymite had always wondered how he'd lost his paw. In place of his right paw, he had a medal paw with two long, extra-extendable silver claws. The sight of Biclaw brought shivers up Cymite's spine.
"Hello, Biclaw," Clorfly meowed threw gritted teeth. "Were is your captive? Give her up, or face the consequences."
"You talk big," Biclaw said, almost electronically. "But you know that you can not defeat me. You have tried many times before, and failed. What makes you think that you could do that now, Clorfly?"
Clorfly paused, thinking of something to bite back with. "Biclaw, you'd better stay away. You don't know what you're up against."
Biclaw sighed. "Activate the Star-Syndrome," he meowed, begrudgingly.
Two giant steel bars lifted from within the blackened earth, pointing skywards. Then two more rose from the space of empty soil between them. Medal lines robotically appeared from the very tops of the middle medal bars. These intersected with the bigger lines on the outskirts. All six of the medal bars compressed themselves together, forming a big, thick medal line. At the same time, the steel bar lifted, revealing two more medal bars, these were made of silver. Attached to straight up and down bars of silver was a cat.
"Devenolete!" Clorfly cried in disrepair.
"Quite," Biclaw muttered, to quietly for any of the Group of Majic and Rescue to hear.
Devenolete struggled a bit, but the medal chains were heavy. She couldn't use her Majic, for steel rebelled against the use of Majic.
"You know, we could use our Majic to release her," Clorfly meowed, rolling her eyes to show what she hoped looked like confidence. But she knew that Biclaw had found some loophole. Biclaw always found a loophole.
"Ah, but I don't think so," Biclaw started. "You see, the Star-Syndrome has diamonds on the chains and built into the silver. Do you, or any of your other cats, know what diamonds does to Majic when properly Enchanted?"
Clorfly shifted nervously. She didn't, and she didn't think that her cats did, either. But, she could guess. "No," she muttered.
"I didn't think so," Biclaw meowed, a near smile playing on his lips. "When a diamond is properly Enchanted, it releases its Essence. Do you know what its Essence is, Clorfly? Any of you?" A nervous silence. "Mm. The diamond's Essence is like...a miniature shield. This shield is made of blue Miro-Energy. That energy, when you are within its radius, drains your Majic energy. There are also a few Cat's-Eye gemstones in there. They give off an electric shock when they are Enchanted and Activated."
The cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue didn't like the sounds of that.
"Mm," Biclaw agreed.
"Release her!" Clorfly growled.
Biclaw thought. He almost said an indignant 'Never!' or 'Not likely. You all know very well that, once I capture a cat, it is extremely hard, maybe even imposable, to free the cat.' But, that would be going against the plan. "Fine, then. I will release Devenolete."
Everyone was confused. Devenolete, Clorfly, Cymite, Flecka, and all of the other cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue.
"What?" Devenolete, Clorfly, Flecka, and all of the other cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue spluttered.
"Mm," Biclaw muttered.
Biclaw muttered a Word of Power and the chains released themselves and the Star-Syndrome retreated back into the depths of the earth.
"Devenolete!" Clorfly cried, rushing over to her friend. She was soon joined by all of the other cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue.
"Hi, Clorfly!" Devenolete meowed warmly, her voice laden with pure happiness. The greeting was repeated several other times to the many other cats that swarmed her. Some of these greetings included:
"Hey, Flecka!"
"Hello, Kamica!"
"How's it going, Clora?"
And so on. Everyone was perfectly content and happy. At least for the moment they were. This happiness would not last for very long.
*****
That night, all of the cats of the Group of Majic and Rescue gathered around Devenolete to see what she had to say about recent journeys.
Devenolete was a slightly imposing figure, particularly to tiny Cymite. She was a big cat, tall and strong, but also lean from sometimes days without food. She was highly trained, and it had taken Biclaw quite a few elite Squnetes to take her into his cruel captivity. She had medal in place of her front legs and right back leg were made of medal and same with most of the right side of her chest. Cymite didn't know the story behind the medal limbs, but she knew that it must be brutal.
Devenolete was a beautiful she-cat. She was a tortoiseshell smoke; a gray, brown, and white tortoiseshell. She had brilliant green eyes that were such a vibrant green that they seemed unreal.
Yes, Devenolete was an imposing figure.
In truth, she really should be treated with careful respect. Devenolete was trained well, and she was always very strong and agile. But, she had a soft heart. Cymite knew that she could trust Devenolete. She could trust her with her life.
"Devenolete?" Cymite called after the tortoiseshell she-cat had finished her third story.
"Yes, Cymite?" Devenolete questioned.
"I was just wondering, how did Biclaw get his medal paw? And why?" Cymite inquired, eager to hear the answer.
"Well," began Devenolete. "It all started with his first day of training.
"Biclaw, known as Cimacho at the time, was a competitive, ambitious young cat. He was eager to receive his training.
"In the field that he was practicing fighting in, a small but vicious group of dogs lived. The starving dogs hadn't seen a single whisker of prey for days. Cimacho and his mother, Afawnica, were the first edible things the dogs saw. The were the unfortunate victims.
"Cimacho and Afawnica saw the pack leader. He was a hulking figure that towered over the two cats, mouth foaming with infectious, rabid saliva. He had scars on his muzzle from the cruel bramble bushes that dotted the meadow. He was a ruddy brown and was agile with youth and muscled from a hard lifestyle.
"The dog barked a single command to his small but lethal pack, and the lunged forward, onto the helpless pair of cats.
"Cimacho and Afawnica couldn't move. They were stunned by the sudden chain of frightening events and everything had happened so quickly. All Cimacho's mother had time to do was drag him away from the worst of the brutal blows.
"But, despite Afawnica's efforts, the viscous, rabid dogs had mulled his paw. It was covered in blood and twisted at a sickeningly awkward angle.
"Cimacho's stomach churned with the unbearable pain. Finally, he blacked out.
"Afawnica knew that she couldn't carry her son in her jaws as she ran. She couldn't protect him from the dogs while standing her ground. But, she also knew that she couldn't and wouldn't abandon Cimacho with the dogs. She only had one choice, and it could mean the cost of her life. But Afawnica would take the chance.
"Afawnica shot forward, straight into the dogs. Their foaming maws snapping at her with sharp teeth. Afawnica ran on. She would do this. She would do this for her son.
"And so, she ran, the dogs trailing behind her in hot pursuit, into the forest. He son lay limp and bleeding behind her."
Devenolete stopped for a moment taking in the gazes of awe from her audience. Then, she continued the story.
"When Cimacho awoke, his mother vanished, his paw burning like furry, the dogs' scrabbling claw marks gorging into the earth near to him. He was traumatized. He could barely move. He feared for his mother and the memory flashes of the dogs were still fresh in his young, impressionable mind. He should be dead, but he sill lived...
"Finally, when Cimacho had the energy enough to stand and walk, he searched unsuccessfully for Afawnica."
Devenolete swept her gaze over the watching cats that crowded around her. "She was never found," she meowed ominously.
"A old she-cat found his lying by a riverbank, collapsed from exhaustion. He had been searching for Afawnica for such a long time...with no rest, food, or water.
"The old she-cat's name was Shellyah. She had had kittens twice, and had a soft spot in her heart for all cats, but especially as kittens and other young cats.
"Shellyah cared for Cimacho for weeks. She took him to her mate, Fireball. He was greatly respected by his fellow cats, despite his age. Shellyah knew that he and his cats would do all that they could to help this kitten.
"And, and Fireball did.
"When Shellyah took Cimacho to Fireball, Fireball took him to his Throne room. There, he and his adviser, Carmma, disused the matter.
"'What do you think that we should do, Carmma?' Fireball had asked.
"'Well, I believe that we should take him to our doctors,' Carmma replied, thinking quickly, knowing that the young cat's life was on the line.
"And so, Fireball did. The doctors could not figure out how to save his paw. The decided that it was simply imposable. So, the gave him the cure to the rabies. But, of course, the cure had its side effects. One of these side effects was getting very emotional.
"Another side effect (this one is not really a side effect. It's something that was purposely added to the formula for reasons that I don't know) is that it might make you either incredibly strong or smart. Which one do you think Biclaw got?"
"Smart!"
"Smart!"
"Smart!"
"Smart!"
Devenolete was a slightly imposing figure, particularly to tiny Cymite. She was a big cat, tall and strong, but also lean from sometimes days without food. She was highly trained, and it had taken Biclaw quite a few elite Squnetes to take her into his cruel captivity. She had medal in place of her front legs and right back leg were made of medal and same with most of the right side of her chest. Cymite didn't know the story behind the medal limbs, but she knew that it must be brutal.
Devenolete was a beautiful she-cat. She was a tortoiseshell smoke; a gray, brown, and white tortoiseshell. She had brilliant green eyes that were such a vibrant green that they seemed unreal.
Yes, Devenolete was an imposing figure.
In truth, she really should be treated with careful respect. Devenolete was trained well, and she was always very strong and agile. But, she had a soft heart. Cymite knew that she could trust Devenolete. She could trust her with her life.
"Devenolete?" Cymite called after the tortoiseshell she-cat had finished her third story.
"Yes, Cymite?" Devenolete questioned.
"I was just wondering, how did Biclaw get his medal paw? And why?" Cymite inquired, eager to hear the answer.
"Well," began Devenolete. "It all started with his first day of training.
"Biclaw, known as Cimacho at the time, was a competitive, ambitious young cat. He was eager to receive his training.
"In the field that he was practicing fighting in, a small but vicious group of dogs lived. The starving dogs hadn't seen a single whisker of prey for days. Cimacho and his mother, Afawnica, were the first edible things the dogs saw. The were the unfortunate victims.
"Cimacho and Afawnica saw the pack leader. He was a hulking figure that towered over the two cats, mouth foaming with infectious, rabid saliva. He had scars on his muzzle from the cruel bramble bushes that dotted the meadow. He was a ruddy brown and was agile with youth and muscled from a hard lifestyle.
"The dog barked a single command to his small but lethal pack, and the lunged forward, onto the helpless pair of cats.
"Cimacho and Afawnica couldn't move. They were stunned by the sudden chain of frightening events and everything had happened so quickly. All Cimacho's mother had time to do was drag him away from the worst of the brutal blows.
"But, despite Afawnica's efforts, the viscous, rabid dogs had mulled his paw. It was covered in blood and twisted at a sickeningly awkward angle.
"Cimacho's stomach churned with the unbearable pain. Finally, he blacked out.
"Afawnica knew that she couldn't carry her son in her jaws as she ran. She couldn't protect him from the dogs while standing her ground. But, she also knew that she couldn't and wouldn't abandon Cimacho with the dogs. She only had one choice, and it could mean the cost of her life. But Afawnica would take the chance.
"Afawnica shot forward, straight into the dogs. Their foaming maws snapping at her with sharp teeth. Afawnica ran on. She would do this. She would do this for her son.
"And so, she ran, the dogs trailing behind her in hot pursuit, into the forest. He son lay limp and bleeding behind her."
Devenolete stopped for a moment taking in the gazes of awe from her audience. Then, she continued the story.
"When Cimacho awoke, his mother vanished, his paw burning like furry, the dogs' scrabbling claw marks gorging into the earth near to him. He was traumatized. He could barely move. He feared for his mother and the memory flashes of the dogs were still fresh in his young, impressionable mind. He should be dead, but he sill lived...
"Finally, when Cimacho had the energy enough to stand and walk, he searched unsuccessfully for Afawnica."
Devenolete swept her gaze over the watching cats that crowded around her. "She was never found," she meowed ominously.
"A old she-cat found his lying by a riverbank, collapsed from exhaustion. He had been searching for Afawnica for such a long time...with no rest, food, or water.
"The old she-cat's name was Shellyah. She had had kittens twice, and had a soft spot in her heart for all cats, but especially as kittens and other young cats.
"Shellyah cared for Cimacho for weeks. She took him to her mate, Fireball. He was greatly respected by his fellow cats, despite his age. Shellyah knew that he and his cats would do all that they could to help this kitten.
"And, and Fireball did.
"When Shellyah took Cimacho to Fireball, Fireball took him to his Throne room. There, he and his adviser, Carmma, disused the matter.
"'What do you think that we should do, Carmma?' Fireball had asked.
"'Well, I believe that we should take him to our doctors,' Carmma replied, thinking quickly, knowing that the young cat's life was on the line.
"And so, Fireball did. The doctors could not figure out how to save his paw. The decided that it was simply imposable. So, the gave him the cure to the rabies. But, of course, the cure had its side effects. One of these side effects was getting very emotional.
"Another side effect (this one is not really a side effect. It's something that was purposely added to the formula for reasons that I don't know) is that it might make you either incredibly strong or smart. Which one do you think Biclaw got?"
"Smart!"
"Smart!"
"Smart!"
"Smart!"
"He...got...strong!" Devenolete announced to the surprise of her audience.
"What?" everyone gasped at once.
"Yes. He was already intellectually powerful. He got both ends of the bargain," Devenolete explained simply.
"Continue the story!" a cat from the crowd meowed eagerly.
"Yes. After they gave him the formula, the told Fireball about how unsuccessful their attempt to save Cimacho's paw.
"Fireball was distraught. He asked Carmma what she thought he should do, and she told him that he should take Cimacho to his scientists.
"Fireball obeyed with most haste. Within a few moments, Cimacho was at the lab, where Fireball's scientists worked.
"All day, the scientists worked. Then almost a whole other day. But, finally, they finished. They had made Cimacho a medal paw. Once Cimacho awoke, they found one mistake that they had made. They had not added claws to the artificial paw.
"Soon, they did. Four steel claws that could sheath and unsheathe.
"Cimacho lived with the cats. He soon had a high rank in the group of cats and was well respected for his vast intellect and imposable strength and fighting tactics. And he was known for his powerful kindness that overflowed his large heart.
"One day, there was a devastating battle. A hostel neighboring group of cats attacked Fireball's group. In the battle, many cats died. While Cimacho was fighting, one of his steel claws cracked after getting shot with a non-handheld pistol.
"His paw getting repeatedly shot, all of his medal claws were either lost or broken. He raced to the scientists, who knew how urgent this was, got right to work. Cimacho had requested powerful, extra-extendable, retractable claws, and made with real silver.
"The scientists only had enough silver (and enough time) to make two. He raced into the battle. Viciously, he attacked his enemies. When the battle was over, despite the loyal cats' efforts, the land was lost.
"Cimacho and the other cats split up in their haste to escape the place that they had once called home."
"Oh, wow." A cat from the crowd interrupted with the whisper.
Devenolete nodded in silent agreement. Leaving your birthplace was always hard for kittens, but when you leave the place that you grew up in, it's like someone tore a chunk of your heart out that will never and can never be replaced. She then continued the story. "After leaving his home, Cimacho started to act strangely. He would steal prey from other cats just for the fun of it. He had had a messed up life and was becoming a messed up cat.
"Stay cats that saw him described him as either terrifying or crazy. The ones who knew of him, who had fought him or were friends with him, had nicknamed him Biclaw, after his two long silver claws attached to his medal foot.
"And that," Devenolete summed up, "Is how Biclaw got his name and medal foot. The sad tale begins with an innocent kitten hunting with his mother and ends with a vicious killer of a cat who we all know as Biclaw."
The crowd murmured things like, 'wow' and such, whispering and gasping. The story had been quite a surprise, though no one doubted that it was real. Devenolete's stories always rang in complete truth, no lies.
Devenolete gazed down at the cats. "Cymite?" she called to the small cat.
"Yes?" Cymite's voice was a little shaky. She wasn't used to getting addressed to without an order or an insult.
"Do you have another question?" Devenolete wondered.
"Um," Cymite thought for a little bit. "No, I don't think so. Thank you for asking, Devenolete!" Cymite was just happy that it wasn't an insult or an order.
Then, a little kitten from the crowds, Queela. "Um, Devenolete?" Queela asked in her usual, chipper voice.
"Yes, Queela?" Devenolete asked warmly. She had a soft spot for kittens.
"How did you get your medal parts?" Queela wondered, never shy.
Devenolete laughed. "Well, we're a brave little kitten, aren't we?"
Queela didn't know how to answer. "Yes?"
Devenolete laughed again. "Alright, then. This is how it all started..."
-KittyLover8
© 2012
Devenolete nodded in silent agreement. Leaving your birthplace was always hard for kittens, but when you leave the place that you grew up in, it's like someone tore a chunk of your heart out that will never and can never be replaced. She then continued the story. "After leaving his home, Cimacho started to act strangely. He would steal prey from other cats just for the fun of it. He had had a messed up life and was becoming a messed up cat.
"Stay cats that saw him described him as either terrifying or crazy. The ones who knew of him, who had fought him or were friends with him, had nicknamed him Biclaw, after his two long silver claws attached to his medal foot.
"And that," Devenolete summed up, "Is how Biclaw got his name and medal foot. The sad tale begins with an innocent kitten hunting with his mother and ends with a vicious killer of a cat who we all know as Biclaw."
The crowd murmured things like, 'wow' and such, whispering and gasping. The story had been quite a surprise, though no one doubted that it was real. Devenolete's stories always rang in complete truth, no lies.
Devenolete gazed down at the cats. "Cymite?" she called to the small cat.
"Yes?" Cymite's voice was a little shaky. She wasn't used to getting addressed to without an order or an insult.
"Do you have another question?" Devenolete wondered.
"Um," Cymite thought for a little bit. "No, I don't think so. Thank you for asking, Devenolete!" Cymite was just happy that it wasn't an insult or an order.
Then, a little kitten from the crowds, Queela. "Um, Devenolete?" Queela asked in her usual, chipper voice.
"Yes, Queela?" Devenolete asked warmly. She had a soft spot for kittens.
"How did you get your medal parts?" Queela wondered, never shy.
Devenolete laughed. "Well, we're a brave little kitten, aren't we?"
Queela didn't know how to answer. "Yes?"
Devenolete laughed again. "Alright, then. This is how it all started..."
-KittyLover8
© 2012
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