《Nercokitty!》 A nations worse nercomany outbreak since the mage party at the graveyard. The largest country in the content had a tradition. To show you were ready to command the household, you must show gentleness, tenderness, and care through raising a cat. You reared it while it was young, slowly feeding it milk. Than you help it grow. You watch it till it dies of old age. This has lead to the nickname of the royal family being Purrlers, a pun off the word ruler. Princess Elizabeth sets her cat that she raised form the age of five in a small coffin in the royal family crypts. Her small frame sobbing as her best friend has died from simple old age, peacefully in his favorite resting place. Her parents help her morn, the father have gone through the same thing around her age. Some go peacefully, some are much kinder to be put down. The family leaves the crypt. No priest blesses the remains. A small black cat emerges from the coffin, purring. Its tail split into two near the tip, green necrotic fire dances around its frame. The unholy aura of its undeath rises the corpses around it. Great kings dressed in blessed runic armour. Queens in beautiful dresses. They lumber out of the crypt, and with hate for the living kill everyone they come across. This, was the start of the worse necromancy incident that the capital has ever seen. The very capital grew unhallowed, a breeding pit for the undead. The birth of this cat had so much necrotic magic fallout that the capitol fell, the royal family fed. Noble families bloodlines were ended. Countless commoners loss their lives to others and the undead. The old left behind. The sick killed in their beds while the house were alit a flame as a mercy to their soul. Countless knights died as blunt weapons had no effect of the runic armours. Bladed weapons did nothing to the armours or harm to the body underneath. Fashions once loved grow taboo as they reminded the victims of the shambling, once loved beautiful and wise queens. A small army of undead cats pour the streets, hunting for food to fill there ever present hunger. A black cat with a split tail returns to the castle. It walks unhindered through the empty halls. It paws at the Princess door and lets out a few short meows. Noises it always make to be let in. Noone opens the door. Hours go by. The cat walks out of the castle, knowing its territory very well. It walks outside. Past the corpses of some guards and nobles. No human he sees is alive. He hunts birds in the meantime. Ravens and crows scavenge the dead. The cat, unmoving. unbreathing, without smell to alert the birds or foot falls. It hunts like it body tells it to. It leaps, claws out like countless daggers digging into the large crows flesh. The cats mouth bites on the neck. But that is where instincts stop. Its mother never taught it how to kill. A strange new feeling. Like water running down its throat. A odd feeling of feeling something rush through the body. The cat does not panic, it is new, but not painful. The feeling rushes out. threads of awareness connecting to the dead. It ignores them as well. The cat bites the neck of the bird harshly, and feast. Without rest. He hunts the empty fields. Without mercy he kills and consumes, littering the gardens and grand roads in the castle. Corpses of birds, squirrels, rats, other cats, small dogs. Anything his claws and teeth can end, the ground has a body of that animal. The world grows cold, but he does not feel the bite of the wind. The wind grows warm, and he sees a human for the first time, in what feels a very long time. He walks up to it, rubbing his face on its legs while purring to his heart content. The robes the human is wearing reminds him of his bed. He looks up and meows. Humans always solve the hunger. He hungers. Killing the animals helps. But no more comes. The human jumps, they do that when he rubs on their legs without them seeing him first. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Liz! What is wrong!¡± I look to the loud other human. Some are just loud. The ones in the shiny stuff that hurts to look at in the sun are always screaming or in complete silence. No inbetween. Some pet me, there hands almost as big as my back and they are very gentle. I look up the human whose leg I was marking. I purr lightly as the human looks down, ¡°Jason...This is a royal empurror¡­.But it is black and it looks like the poor things tail is messed up. I think it is the first living thing I have seen in the royal capital since the disaster. .¡± The human in the robes bends down and picks me up. Yay, it is one of them with the lumps on the chest. The comfortable lumps that are perfect to nap or rest in. ¡°We should head back and report than...It must be a pretty powerful beast if it could live here among the undead and stay as healthy looking as it does now.¡± I know, I am beautiful. I have been called that since I was born. I relax in the human¡¯s arms. I wonder for a moment where the human I always knew was. I meow to be fed, ¡°Liz, try to keep it quiet. We do not need a horde on us.¡± The one in the shiny stuff whispers to the one holding me. The human holding me gets out a piece of something. I sniff, then lick it. It is good, better meat than the flapping things. Or the shambling things with the odd smells. I close my eyes and nap in this human¡¯s arms. It¡¯s lumps are soft and warm. I am content. ~~~ Brother and I are going to get so much money in commission! We found the first sign of life returning to the unhallowed wreck that the priest are trying to reclaim! Gods be praised, your holy priest are doing a wonderful job on ridding the bastard magic form the land and water. This is easily one of the most friendly cats I have ever held. It just let me pick it up and I think it is asleep right now. I am surprised as well how quick it ate the ration that I gave it. Usually this breed is kept only by Royalty, or nobles in the good graces of the king and queen. Some heros were given a kitten from the rare litter. It is one of the highest honors. And I am holding one! Gods, thank you for making something with fur this soft. It must be sick, it is so cold. So I hold is a bit tighter. I hope we are not too late, at least have it live long enough to escape the unhallowed earth so its spirit may rest in peace. Brother and I work down form the noble district. Careful and quietly, like two thieves in the night we escape the city with practiced ease. The undead seemed calm. Something I have never seen before. They were calm and we practically walked right by a few¡­ Something to report as well. I think this kitty is going to be a good luck charm. I kiss the top of its head. I can feel it purring in my hands. We walk up to a tent a bit closer to the gate of the capital that we came out of. About 300 feet away from the tent is a cluster of tents where all the adventures, priest, logistics and fun stuff like that are being housed. ¡°Team Beautiful, Intelligent, Graceful Sister and Just Brother has returned!¡± I beam at the cheerful attendant behind the desk outside of the check in tent. ¡°I still regret letting you sign us up.¡± My too serious brother sighs. He takes off his helmet and removes the pouch of lavender that he breathed through while wearing his armour. The tent area smells like the incense that the priest burn during their lectures. They say it helps keep the rot in the air at bay. I just think so everyone has a smell to focus on besides decay. ¡°Hello Liz, what is that you got in your arms?¡± The attendant behind the desk is a close friend! She helped us rise form F-tier all the way up to B-tier adventures! ¡°A living cat! A LIVING cat! A royal empurror to boot!¡± I hold the small cat out at arm''s length. It is adult size, just a bit on the small size. ¡°Liz...Don''t royal empurrors have a tortoise shell pattern with white chest and socks? I mean it¡¯s face is a dead match for one, but the colors are off and its poor tail.¡± Miranda takes the cat out of my hands and sets it down on the table. It lets out a small meow and I let out a long aww. Even my stone willed brother breaks a bit and pets the little guy. I think. Yup those looks like balls. Two little marbles in a fur lined pouch. The cat lies down on its side. Sunbathing. It¡¯s tiny chest¡­ not rising? But it is purring¡­ It can not be undead! No! Was I too late?! ¡°Brother...I think the poor thing passed¡­¡± My brother¡¯s eyes go to its chest, drawing his sword. Miranda practically trips out of her chair to get back. The cat looks up at us. Its ice blue eyes looking right in mine. Purring. It stands up on the table. Not even coming up to my chest but there is a small bit of dread that takes over my soul as two evil fires alight on the mangled tail. Brother charges. I ready a spell. Brother falls. So do I. We fell¡­ asleep¡­ ~~~ The two humans are on the ground. Odd. The other human woke me up from laying in the sun. It was so nice. I look to the new...Not humans. Smell is off. One remind me of the still ones on the ground. Its chest do not rise. Its hearts do not beat. It gives no signs of being alive, while it moves. Wrong, but familiar oddly. ¡°This the nekomata?¡± ¡°Apparently. Its appearance it down to the dot, besides its eyes.¡± Another human that smells like the orange things I hunt has bent down and is looking me in the eyes. I bat her face. It laughs, ¡°Aw its cute. How long till it starts to understand us?¡± ¡°A few years. It is going to be a odd process. Unless you kitsune, they do no inherently understand languages. But are intelligent enough to. We are going to have to teach it through treats that our words are now just its equal to a meow.¡± I meow back. She said something. My old human loved to fed me when I meowed. They do not. So I meow louder, my noise growing louder. ¡°Why is it making that noise?¡± I watch as they¡­ draw something in the road with some white stick that gets smaller as they go. ¡°I think it is hungry. I mean, there as A LOT of bird corpses. Someone in the kingdom should study how wild animal populations are doing with such fierce hunters on the prowl and being the kingdoms nationally recognized animal.¡± The end bit of her speech was high tone. How most humans speak while they grab my paws. I dislike that. One of them takes out a piece of meat. I jump off the table, and rub on the kinda human leg while purring. Marking them, my food dispenser. They set the piece of meat on the ground and I eat it while purring. So good. I am happy. The sun is warm, I have food, and humans are caring for me again. Even if they are kinda weird and not right humans. The one who fed me picks me up. I do not like how it holds me so I squirm. The other one, the grumpy sounding one that is still but still moves holds me to a point I feel comfortable, ¡°Wow Damenic, did not know you were a cat person.¡± ¡°When there is a cat in every household of the land. You learn.¡± I feel that seastion of water and blood. That cold hot feeling around me. In a flash of light, the empty plains are replaced by a forest. Small but close homes are what I see. The other human bends down with a wide smile, ¡°Welcome to Refuge little guy. Home of the monsters of myths, and you.¡± It boops my nose, ¡°Are our newest resident!¡± Mother of nature, Old bones and ranting. They pass me around. I carry the small Nekomata though the town. I make sure to have him on display to everyone. Everyone needs to see and know that he is one of us, just very young. One of the first young ones that we have ever found and took in. I am glad Veronica keep pestering me to check the capital. I lost the betting pool, I put in that it was a Lich. My first guess that I was wrong was betting against the Gazer. Never bet against someone with that many eyes. They can usually see better than you. I put the small cat on the dirt road in the middle of the forest. He is puffed up with green necrotic flames dancing around his tail, feet, and his teeth. This gets most people attention. I use people losely. I reach into Veronica¡¯s bag fetching one more of her rations and slowly place it down on the ground. I really hope we can teach him about words before he starts infulcing the undead and spirits that live here and in the forest. Most people keep their distance. The few other children we have around are staring at the cat with eyes full of wonder. Others are simply interested in their new neighbor. I see a look of fear form a fairy but that is to be understood. Your anthesis is standing in front of you with a piece of beef jerky in its mouth. Flames that would do worse than simply burn your wood is dancing VERY close to the earth. Being small means being closer to the earth. ¡°Everyone, I am going to ask for volunteers to rise this child of death. He has potential, but he has lacked guidance and understanding of what he is.¡± Thankfully Veronica speaks up for me, ¡°This one looks to be a difficult one. It might take decades but from what I have seen it is a kind cat. Very friendly to humans and willing to walk right up to most people. I think the new area and all the commention is scaring it. Please, go to your homes and think about taking this child in.¡± This happens when we find one that is feral but still workable. To civilize them in part at least. There are few here that do not age. Others that have lived longer than elf elders. All wanting a quiet and peaceful life, even if it is just for a bit. I like the quiet. I love my home. Everyone backs off and goes to their homes. Agreements with dyrids and fairies have let us live in their trees, making it conform to our needs while we care for our homes health. The cat has calmed down. He still looks around very wearly, creeping low to the ground with his ears flat and the piece of meat rotted but it does not seem to mind. In fact he eats it. Feral indeed. A few hours pass. He explores. Most watch from their homes as he prowls like a small hunting machine. He has already caught and eaten quite a few birds. I think he is confusing the feeling of hunger and of enjoyment of intaking other creatures mana¡­ He can be taught not to in time, or to be careful. At least he eats everything down to the bones. A few people walk out. A dyrid, A old Lich, another kitsune, and a dragon in human form through a polymorph spell. ¡°Greeting Elder Damenic.¡± They all saw and bow to me. In unity. I still think they practice that behind my back. ¡°Greetings everyone. Remember this is not an auction. We are here to help him, not control the path of his life.¡± They all nod in agreement. The kitsune rises one of his eye brows though, ¡°How do we know it is a he?¡± ¡°He has balls, Monthrol.¡± This got a chuckle out of the others. With the smaller amount of people and the fact that its food is now not in danger, the nekomata walks ups to most of us, rubbing all over our pant legs or simply bare skin¡­ or bones as with Skelly. He actually seems to enjoy the Lich. Purring loud enough to be heard form about eight feet away. ¡°Kekeke, looks like the kitty likes his fellow kin quite a lot.¡± I watch as the dwarfen lich bows down, petting the cat. It is hard to see it as anything but a very cold cat with odd colored eyes. But the green flames it summoned when it was feeling fear as proof enough of its race. ¡°Old bag of bones. I think it just sees something that it is use to. Hunted in the capital for half a year before we found it. The entire time, not a single undead bothered it. I am looking out for you bibliophile, he can influence the undead skillfully and naturally that he has no trama with them.¡± The ancient dragon crosses his arms, looking at the cat with a stern gaze. A good strict teacher, one who knows harsh love well. But not what we need. ¡°Darzuis. I do not think you are a good fit for him at this point in time.¡± The dragon nods. ¡°I trust your judgement Elder Damenic.¡± I shift my gaze to the other two. A motherly dyrid, and a grandfatherly kitsune. I¡¯ll save Skelly as a backup. There is a legitimate fear about his controlling the Lich, even if he is not aware about it. Monthrol is a eight tailed kitsune. Close to his ninth if his bosting is to be taken as truth. He has been here a long time. Helped raise many children, but not such a problem case as this little headache, ¡°Maybe Monthrol...But I think Elswood would be the fit for our needs right now.¡± ¡°I understand. I do need sleep some days, I am not a spirit like the two.¡± He laughs and leaves to his house. The Lich bows as well, leaving me, Elswood, and the little terror in the clearing. ¡°Take good care of him. Make sure he ends up becoming something that could pass off as human, even for a short while.¡± ¡°He is beyond nature¡¯s caring grasp. But, his soul rest well endowed in the spirit¡¯s care.¡± Her eid speaking. He is a tangible spirit, powerful in magic with a potential that is rarely seen, even among us horrors that lie in rest. Biding our time till we are needed. ~~~ I set the cat down on the wooden floor. He immediately begins to explore. I watch as he settles under a table that has a decent amount of sunshine. ¡°I wonder what I shall name you spirit.¡± He looks up at me but sets his head down on his paws. Laying in a way that seems to be comfortable to him, ¡°You seem to be what that kingdom called a Royal Empurror...Clever word play...Wonder how long it took them to come up with it.¡± The only thing nobel about this cat is how pleasant he makes laying around look. I speak to nature. I speak in the tongue of the spirits. A universal language. No matter what. You understand it. It is a truth of life, ¡°Hello small one, I am Elswood. I am a friend. Is there anything that you would like?¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The little cat purrs. He sniffs around, heading to the door while staring at a bird. ¡°Repeat, use your mouth. Birb.¡± ¡°Burrb.¡± He licks his jowls. I wonder why he hungers. He is dead. The dead know no hunger. ¡°Good.¡± I open the door and let him hunt. He still has nature in his mind and spirit. A small hunter, but a hunter nonetheless. He uses every bit of the body, nature will not complain. It is everything''s place in the world. ~~~ A few months past. He speaks in the common tongue. His word choice is lacking but that will solve itself in time. A few weeks in, Damenic spoke to me about lessening his hunting habits. Apparently a few species have not been spotted since he has arrived. We have also taught him not to hunt tails attached to humans. We were all surprised when the little spirit savagely pounced on Monthrol¡¯s tail. For its size, it is a hunter. Never gave up the hunt till someone picked him up and calmed him down with a piece of jerky. Almost everyone carries a piece of it now to help kindly calm him. He is still more beast than man. It does a beast of his nature no good when you treat it like a human child. He can speak. But rarely does. The others are worried if we found him simply too late. I believe he is just lazy. One of the others pointed out as well that he resembles a Royal Empurror. A spoiled kind of cat that are kept only for the prestige attached to their name. So, this is a royal, pampered cat who found the joy of hunting. A beast that has awakened his instincts and does not wish to let them go. I have done what I believe I could. What he needs is an enlightened mind. Not a being so closely entwined to the world, and nature¡¯s will. No matter how much it pains me to let him go. He started to call me mother. I am not cold. Nature is nutrating. I do not wish to give up the mantiptive little spirit. But it is for him, to better him. He used my leg as a scratching post, it did not hurt, simply amusing. He brought me birds and small creatures that he has caught. He has ¡®slept¡¯ with me every night. Slept as in lied down on a thing that the others call a bed and simply rested. It was relaxing. A new hobby once my chores and duties are done. Such a strange creature of death and spirit. Acts so alive yet nothing but a imprint on the world. Nothing real, a simple spirit twisted and corrupted with age and decay. But is easy to forget that. With how rare he speaks, you can easily just see a beast with midnight fur and a mangled tip of a tail. ¡°Ebony, come here.¡± He has learned most basic words. A quick and wise learner in the short time that we have been together. I watch as he gracefully weaves through the chair legs like a hunter in a dense forest. His body moves quickly, silently, gracefully. No wonder so many birds and animals have died around us, we have brought and let loose a predator with no interaction with life, beyond what he wills. ¡°We will be going to Fylson. He will be teaching you form now on. You can come here as often as you like my little spirit. This will always be a home to you.¡± ¡°Yus mather.¡± He nods his little head. Such a quiet, nice little boy. I pick him up. I rest his legs on my arms as his tail wraps around my bicep. I was thought this was a proper way to hold a cat. Support the front and back paws to the point the cat can comfortably put weight on it. I carry him through the village. Most of those with tails puff up upon seeing the hunting demon. But most friendly greet us both. Even a few of the children follow us form a distance, trying to touch his midnight fur. Ebony begins to purr, lazily holding his head up to see where we are going. His features similar to the royal family, even on a different face you can see the resemblance to the faces in the paintings of the town hall, showing off the king and his family. Is that why they have the name royal in their breed name? We stop outside of a old and undead tree. A tree spirit that died and Fylson in his knowledge and power brought cursed life back to the tree. Some of the nature was against it but the blight has never spread from the land that he was given so it has been tolerated. I stop outside of the blight, putting Ebony down on the cursed soil. His fur became slicker. The edges of his features sharper, his paws actually act with the ground. Looking at him now, he looks more real. But it is not a surprise. He a spirit yet a undead. The blight feds him, nurtures his soul and form. Cursed magic, but it sustains him. I shall tolerate it. Nature can endure, anything. ¡°Fylson, it is time for you to do your part.¡± I do not need to yell. The lich is aware of almost everything in our hamlet of monsters. A good security system, and a good secret keeper. The rotten and moss covered wood snake back on itself. Form the perfect tree and wood is now a doorway. Ebony carefully treads over to the skeleton, his eyes focused on the skeleton¡¯s pocket. There are few sentient undead that can live without hatred for everything living, that can be not evil. Nekomatas are rare as well, much rarer than the kitsune because of the requirements for their birth and the fact they can not breed like the kitsune. Even though they are quite similar. Nekomata are simply more spirit than they are flesh. Magic creatures, not ones born from nature. Just a by products of it and the spirits acting together. A form of decay in a otherwise harmonious balance. ¡°Kekekeke, hello there little Ebony. I am a bit cross with you taking the Dyraid name over KittyBone the Magnecifect.¡± The Lich takes out a snack and tosses it out near the cat. He leaps in the air, flying and catching it. Than he runs to a thicker patch of dead grass where his purrs of joy are louder than the bird calls. ¡°If he wishes to visit Fyl-¡± ¡°Kekekeke, That is not my name anymore. I like Skelly a lot more.¡± I nod. I turn around and begin to walk to my home. I look back for just a moment, seeing the cat purr in the grass makes me feel like he will be alright. Better most likely among someone like him, not a being that is almost the oppsitie. ~~~ ¡°Kekeke, Greetings Ebony.¡± I croch over the patch of grass the little soul is trying his damndest to hide in while making a racket with that purring sound, ¡°That plant just let you run wild, didn''t she? I am amazed a creature could instill such trama in beings that could end nations.¡± He looks up and meet my eyes. If I had eyes that is! Kekekeke. Such odd color eyes. Like ice. ¡°Well, we have a lot of things to do. Going to work our hands down to the bone. Kekekeke.¡± ¡°I do not have hands.¡± He tilts his head as I pick him up. Clever little thing. Knows little words but can call me out like the best at his age! I am going to enjoy this! ¡°Well, Necromancy is basically playing with magic and bones. We can easily make you a pair with a bit of flesh that we can wear down till them sparkling whites are on display.¡± He has not stopped purring even after I picked him up. The blight feeding him in a way I think only killing has done. Everyone can steal essence and improve their power and bodies by killing, ¡°You are going to like it here young soul. No more feeling hungry. No more of that wicked tiredness. We are undead! Are we tire not!¡± I walk into my tree. I force my will of the magic in the air, in the soil and in the spirit of the world. A feat that would leave most arch mages with their jaws on the ground, I use to close my door! ¡°Kekekekeke.¡± ¡°You are odd. Like the still men, but you move.¡± He squrims in my arms, easily escaping it and falling to the ground. These old bones are not strong and my forearm bone was apparently big enough for him to squeeze through. ¡°You are odder young nekomata. We will work on your magic.¡± ¡°That green fire stuff that sometimes happens when I am hunting? ¡­ Also I am not odd! I am cute and adorable! Mother and everyone else said so!¡± He begins to walk in the middle of my legs, swirling and turning like water to dance RIGHT where it would inconvenience me. Little soul is with the master of annoyances. This poor, navie amature. ¡°Oh you poor thing. You think dancing in the middle of my feet is going to annoy me?¡± I would of smirked if I had my lips! I speak to the spirits of air. The ones who hold magic and I ask for it. I have worked up a wonderful relationship with those little bastards so I simply fly above the little tripping machine, ¡°Tsk.¡± He looks away and begins to explore as I rattle my bones to mock him, ¡°How is magic going to help me?¡± ¡°Because the goal is for you to live a lifetime outside of the hamlet. Any way you like. You could come back if you like, or continue to live! There is no pressure boy. Your unlife is yours! I am the only one here qualified.¡± ¡°Did you not want to help raise me?¡± ¡°...Tsk. Gifted for your age.¡± ¡°Mama said I was a smart and agile hunter! I could take what I like form the forest and the forest had no right to complain as I am the best hunter in the forest!¡± He¡­ puffs up his chest, tilting his head back with his nose pointed up. Like a little royal. No wonder the draid folded in so easy with this little thing. However my will not break! My bones however I make no promises. I do not want to have to replace my toes...again. I still can not find where he hide them after our first meeting! ¡°Well mister gifted kitty. How about you assume a human shape!¡± The kitty lowers his head tilting it to the side. His little ears are standing straight up but he looks so confused. ¡°How do I do that?¡± ¡°Magic has much to do with the forces we call spirits. Some are liked, some are loved, some are hated. They have personalities, you can fall in and out of favor with them with your actions. You can call spirits of what the general public call narcotic spirits. But in the long, long, long time I have lived little kitty, I think there is more to it.¡± I grin, or I would of if I had a face! ¡°Like what old bones?¡± He tilts his head. Eyes unblinking and straight at me. I got his attention! Now the hard part will be keeping it, young things like him are so fickle. A good few hundred years in the soil will do him some good! ¡°This does not leave this room young nekomata. It has been the culmination of my entire life, and you are the only one I have meet far enough that is in tune with the needed spirits to actually make use of this.¡± ¡°Why so serious?¡± He looks away and starts to lick his fur, damn brat. I was trying to make it dramatic! I am suppose to be your old, wise, and wonderful mentor that you reamaber for the rest of your time on this world! ¡°You ruin all my fun.¡± I cross my arms and turn away. The wind spirits get a kick of dropping me on the ground for the cat to laugh at me. He does. I grumble and stand up, wiping the dust and rot off of my robes, ¡°I think that the Necromancy spirits are actually a culmination. I think they have, at the very basic level soul, death, and decay.¡± ¡°Ok. It seems like what I know.¡± ¡°See! Smart cat, you are a smart cat to understand the complexities of the spirits and how many of them can act together as a force that we can not see how the basics of them acting together makes even greater forces much greater than the parts that they are made of! KEkekekeke! Come young one! I will make you the greatest necromancer since the drunken king of the graveyard!¡± ¡°Ok old bones, can I have another snack?¡± ¡°..Here.¡± Bag of bones and leaving home. The old decayed tree never shown who lived in it for years after the cat entered. The children told ghost stories about those who live inside the unhallowed grounds. They say if you get close enough, you can hear the howling of the damn. The sounds of breaking bones. Shattering and curses being spat form mouths not meant to grace their beautiful world. So, when the tree does open one day. With children outside. When a tall man walks out carrying a cackling skull, they screamed. Those with wings flew. Those with magic became unseen of vanished back to their beds. The more normal of them stared with fear. Like deer staring at a predator for the first time. Fear is all they knew. ¡°Was it needed to scare them?¡± The man looked down to the skull in his hands. Tilting it so it is facing him, looking him in the eyes. t ¡°Kekekeke, Young apprentice, have I still not taught you the value of a good prank? Kekekeke. The faces of fear! It moves my heart! Well, if I had one!¡± The skull¡¯s mouth moved, rattling the skull in the young man¡¯s hands. The teeth clacking as it talked and shook in sight of the children. ¡°This is more along the line of tramatzing. If we are going to scare the children.¡± One of the magically gifted children hide by not being seen. It does not help the poor girl as a equally unseen force sets it hand on her shoulder and whispers, ¡°Boo.¡± This. Of course. Causes the girl to scream, run home, and hide under the covers. The young man flicks his wrist. A skeleton hand that is simply hovering in sight simply appears. Both the young man and the skull laughs. There cheerful laughs become haunting nightmares, childhood traumas that shape the rest of these young monster¡¯s lifes. ~~~ I smile at the old man¡¯s skull. ¡°Don''t you dare sonny.¡± My smile grows. I hold it out at arms length than drop it. I punt it as far as I can with the force of my human body and assistance of the wind spirits. His skull goes quite far. Easily clearing the other side of the village. I chuckle wide a wide grin as I fix my clothing. Simple black mage cloth form back in the days where the old man actually had a pair and could actually get drunk. I never took a look at the village besides to hunt or play with those things that looked like things I wanted to hunt. I was simple and happy back than. Now this fucker who thinks he is the king of pranks has taught me. I am aware of everything around me. Borrrriiinnngggg. I walk the path to my mother¡¯s house. Yes I still think of her as my mother, even though I know she is not. At some point I communed with the soul spirits and turned back in what I would call my true state. A beautiful cat with midnight black fur. I hoped up into a window of her home and begin to purr. It is odd how much different each home smells. One of life and flowers, the other of alcohol decay and pranks gone wrong. So...Many...Pranks¡­. I am glad I buried his big toe bone under my favorite bone depository. I would love to see his headless body stumble through the streets looking for his head! My mother opens the window with a wide smile and wraps her arms around me, ¡°Hello there Ebony, I have not seen you in quite a few winters.¡± ¡°The old sack of bones would not let me outside. I had to make a trap, tie up his body, detach his head, and open the tree myself once I learnt enough about the spirits.¡± I lean into her soft and warm body. Ohhhh I missed this. I love being petted and pampered and fed. ¡°Well, do you think you can go out into the world now, my child?¡± ¡°I cooouuulllllddd¡­ Or I can stay here for a bit! With you! ¡­. Please?¡± I give her my best big eyed look. Ears back and just a hint of begging. It almost always works. Unless your that damn bag of bone that would never stop talking. Not a wink of sleep for however long we were in there! I miss sleeping and eating! ¡°...You are lacking knowledge on some subjects. Flyson probably taught you much about magic. But I think you need to be tempered.¡± My mother gently sat me on the ground in a spot that the sun is shining on. I let out a purr and curl up in it, enjoying the warmth along with talking to the fire spirits. They love to make things warm, and I love to be warm. It is a purrfect match!The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. They also like to speak with the death spirits and decay spirits around me. Apparently they make up most of the parts of the green necrotic fire that I use to use to hunt or just flared up. I also have to barter with them using my mana but my form is held together by mana and the only way for me to gather it is by killing, eating, or residing in blighted land for a period of time. But I do not mind. The forest is full of prey. And I would love to hunt again. A few hours later a knock comes from the piece of wood that my mother considers to be the front door. My mother answers it. I look at the door to check who it is while keeping most of my body in the sun. It is the guy with the many tails and ears like mine. He is¡­ I thought I kicked him farther than to be found in a few hours. I will the soul spirits to change my form into human once more. It is odd how they will only let me switch between the two. ¡°Kekeke, thoug- wait save me! Monthroll! Elswood! He is a savage!¡± I grab the damn skull and turn to the forest and punt it once more with a VERY satisfying thump of it hitting a tree far away. I turn back to my mother and the many tailed man, ¡°That always feels great!¡± I smile widely at them. ¡°Already can turn human like, can you young nekomata?¡± The many tailed guy smiles at me. He is old looking. Like, this is the first thing I have ever seen that actually looks old. I only know what age is through the hazy memories of being an actual cat. Very hazy. I only remember a face very clearly, everything is like looking through a dirty pond. ¡°The bag of bones wouldn''t stop talking till I could.¡± I shiver. I remember turning human first time. I disassembled him and put his body in a bag and took a nap. Of course I was unaware that his damn undead put him together while I slept. I have never been wet before. But I hated it. ¡°That¡­ Sounds like a unique teaching method.¡± The old man smiles awkwardly at me. I walk past him and curl up on the flood. Too tired to turn back to a cat. This body can be more warm, the sun feels nicer on skin. ¡°That is the young spirit. Powerful even though he is young. I am proud to call him a son.¡± I love being praised by mother. Why do I call her mother? Because she fed, petted, slept, and so much things that I felt like a mother would do out of care and love. She says a lot about nature and stuff but I think she has been lonely. The few walks that I went on when I lived with her I never saw someone made out of wood like she is. I saw plenty of things though. Not a single human. ¡°Ebony, wake up Ebony.¡± I feel my shoulder being lightly pushed around. I turn my head to look at my mother. Of course this is when I notice it is very dark and late out, ¡°Hello there my Kin. It is very nice to see you, let us move to the bed?¡± I nod and stand up. Of course the bed is up a flight of stairs so those wake me up a bit. Her bed is huge, easily fitting us. I lie down in it. My mother lays as well. Both being human and a cat feels natural and right so it is easy for me to sleep once more. ~~~ A scale of time goes by they call years. Well my mother calls them winters. Everyone here is a bit odd. Apparently eating things raw isn''t normal? You do this weird thing where you hold it over fire and wait than eat it. Somehow it taste different. I think I like raw meat much more. My mother recently has been rotting. It has been worrying me. I have tried to talk the rot spirits, trying to bargain with them to leave her alone. But the death spirits interfere. We have never used words. We used magic to speak. It is hard to explain in words but it like sharing everything. I am begging, they are final. She is dying. It makes my chest tight, I do not like it. She doesn''t deserve it. I confronted her about it. She simply told me it was time. I am not sure when I got so attached. I talked to the pile of bones about it and he told me not to try anything. It is her choice. But she is my mother. As months go by, she took her time teaching me how to speak to the life spirits. At first they hated me. I am everything that they are not. I am dead, they represent life and the concept of living. But I think my mother did something. Now they accept me, not hate, nor love. Just accept and respond to me when I ask, they do not rush to my mana like I am use to, but they come. My mother gave me a seed. She told me this is her kin, her child. Something her race makes when they are near death. Only a month later the village had her funeral. I met the man and women who took me from the stone city. Demenic welcomed me when I could actually understood him. He took me to the side and told me a story. It was early, early on in the history of all the races. A man did a vile act, he committed the first murder. The first sin against the gods. So, they cursed him. Made him undead, the very first of them. They cursed him with immorality, and this city is his way to make up for his mistakes. I am smart. The First Lich called me smart. Part of being a Nekomata apparently, blessed with wisdom and intelligence on par with the eldest of dragons. There has only been four known, well five now. Damenic asked if I was ready to live among the humans for a period of time. I said yes. I did not know many people here. The old bag of bone, mother, some of the kids that I mentally scared. Some of the adults that I mentally scarred. I liked to sleep and laze. But now I have to find a place to bury this seed. Only a fitting place will be worthy of my sibling! The women he was with drew something in the dirt, ¡°It is nice seeing them grow up, is it not Damenic?¡± ¡°It is.¡± ¡°So kid, where would you like to go? Like some advice?¡± ¡°I do not¡­ Maybe close to that city of stone you two found me at? The old bag of bones told me there are not many lands of blight that the enlightened race let run out of control and it defeats the purpose of this to just nap in a warm place does it not?¡± The many tailed women smiles wide at me and nods. ¡°Go sign up in an adventure hall. You¡¯ll met lots of people and can go kill lots of evil monsters so you can stay in this pretty form of yours.¡± She winks at me. Damenic sighs. ¡°He is not even ten women. Stop robbing the damn cradle.¡± ¡°Geez Damenic, I am being friendly. You wouldn''t know that is like even if it bite you in the ass and replaced your unbeating heart.¡± ¡°Women. The spell form. The wind rubbed some dirt away. Why show off so much?¡± ¡°Fine! You do it if you are going to nit pick each and every thing I do!¡± She crosses her arms and makes her breast look bigger. How? She seems to stick her chest out and prop them up with her arms. The unassuming man that everyone calls elder draws on the ground. Fixing some things than I feel him push raw mana into dirt. ¡°Goodbye Ebony, I will find you in a hundard or so years.¡± That was the last time I saw my home for quite a while. The true start of my misadventure. Death of mother and a knight in literally shining armor. The old decayed tree never shown who lived in it for years after the cat entered. The children told ghost stories about those who live inside the unhallowed grounds. They say if you get close enough, you can hear the howling of the damn. The sounds of breaking bones. Shattering and curses being spat form mouths not meant to grace their beautiful world. So, when the tree does open one day. With children outside. When a tall man walks out carrying a cackling skull, they screamed. Those with wings flew. Those with magic became unseen of vanished back to their beds. The more normal of them stared with fear. Like deer staring at a predator for the first time. Fear is all they knew. ¡°Was it needed to scare them?¡± The man looked down to the skull in his hands. Tilting it so it is facing him, looking him in the eyes. t ¡°Kekekeke, Young apprentice, have I still not taught you the value of a good prank? Kekekeke. The faces of fear! It moves my heart! Well, if I had one!¡± The skull¡¯s mouth moved, rattling the skull in the young man¡¯s hands. The teeth clacking as it talked and shook in sight of the children. ¡°This is more along the line of tramatzing. If we are going to scare the children.¡± One of the magically gifted children hide by not being seen. It does not help the poor girl as a equally unseen force sets it hand on her shoulder and whispers, ¡°Boo.¡± This. Of course. Causes the girl to scream, run home, and hide under the covers. The young man flicks his wrist. A skeleton hand that is simply hovering in sight simply appears. Both the young man and the skull laughs. There cheerful laughs become haunting nightmares, childhood traumas that shape the rest of these young monster¡¯s lifes. ~~~ I smile at the old man¡¯s skull. ¡°Don''t you dare sonny.¡± My smile grows. I hold it out at arms length than drop it. I punt it as far as I can with the force of my human body and assistance of the wind spirits. His skull goes quite far. Easily clearing the other side of the village. I chuckle wide a wide grin as I fix my clothing. Simple black mage cloth form back in the days where the old man actually had a pair and could actually get drunk. I never took a look at the village besides to hunt or play with those things that looked like things I wanted to hunt. I was simple and happy back than. Now this fucker who thinks he is the king of pranks has taught me. I am aware of everything around me. Borrrriiinnngggg. I walk the path to my mother¡¯s house. Yes I still think of her as my mother, even though I know she is not. At some point I communed with the soul spirits and turned back in what I would call my true state. A beautiful cat with midnight black fur. I hoped up into a window of her home and begin to purr. It is odd how much different each home smells. One of life and flowers, the other of alcohol decay and pranks gone wrong. So...Many...Pranks¡­. I am glad I buried his big toe bone under my favorite bone depository. I would love to see his headless body stumble through the streets looking for his head! My mother opens the window with a wide smile and wraps her arms around me, ¡°Hello there Ebony, I have not seen you in quite a few winters.¡± ¡°The old sack of bones would not let me outside. I had to make a trap, tie up his body, detach his head, and open the tree myself once I learnt enough about the spirits.¡± I lean into her soft and warm body. Ohhhh I missed this. I love being petted and pampered and fed. ¡°Well, do you think you can go out into the world now, my child?¡± ¡°I cooouuulllllddd¡­ Or I can stay here for a bit! With you! ¡­. Please?¡± I give her my best big eyed look. Ears back and just a hint of begging. It almost always works. Unless your that damn bag of bone that would never stop talking. Not a wink of sleep for however long we were in there! I miss sleeping and eating! ¡°...You are lacking knowledge on some subjects. Flyson probably taught you much about magic. But I think you need to be tempered.¡± My mother gently sat me on the ground in a spot that the sun is shining on. I let out a purr and curl up in it, enjoying the warmth along with talking to the fire spirits. They love to make things warm, and I love to be warm. It is a purrfect match! They also like to speak with the death spirits and decay spirits around me. Apparently they make up most of the parts of the green necrotic fire that I use to use to hunt or just flared up. I also have to barter with them using my mana but my form is held together by mana and the only way for me to gather it is by killing, eating, or residing in blighted land for a period of time. But I do not mind. The forest is full of prey. And I would love to hunt again. A few hours later a knock comes from the piece of wood that my mother considers to be the front door. My mother answers it. I look at the door to check who it is while keeping most of my body in the sun. It is the guy with the many tails and ears like mine. He is¡­ I thought I kicked him farther than to be found in a few hours. I will the soul spirits to change my form into human once more. It is odd how they will only let me switch between the two. ¡°Kekeke, thoug- wait save me! Monthroll! Elswood! He is a savage!¡± I grab the damn skull and turn to the forest and punt it once more with a VERY satisfying thump of it hitting a tree far away. I turn back to my mother and the many tailed man, ¡°That always feels great!¡± I smile widely at them. ¡°Already can turn human like, can you young nekomata?¡± The many tailed guy smiles at me. He is old looking. Like, this is the first thing I have ever seen that actually looks old. I only know what age is through the hazy memories of being an actual cat. Very hazy. I only remember a face very clearly, everything is like looking through a dirty pond. ¡°The bag of bones wouldn''t stop talking till I could.¡± I shiver. I remember turning human first time. I disassembled him and put his body in a bag and took a nap. Of course I was unaware that his damn undead put him together while I slept. I have never been wet before. But I hated it. ¡°That¡­ Sounds like a unique teaching method.¡± The old man smiles awkwardly at me. I walk past him and curl up on the flood. Too tired to turn back to a cat. This body can be more warm, the sun feels nicer on skin. ¡°That is the young spirit. Powerful even though he is young. I am proud to call him a son.¡± I love being praised by mother. Why do I call her mother? Because she fed, petted, slept, and so much things that I felt like a mother would do out of care and love. She says a lot about nature and stuff but I think she has been lonely. The few walks that I went on when I lived with her I never saw someone made out of wood like she is. I saw plenty of things though. Not a single human. ¡°Ebony, wake up Ebony.¡± I feel my shoulder being lightly pushed around. I turn my head to look at my mother. Of course this is when I notice it is very dark and late out, ¡°Hello there my Kin. It is very nice to see you, let us move to the bed?¡± I nod and stand up. Of course the bed is up a flight of stairs so those wake me up a bit. Her bed is huge, easily fitting us. I lie down in it. My mother lays as well. Both being human and a cat feels natural and right so it is easy for me to sleep once more. ~~~ A scale of time goes by they call years. Well my mother calls them winters. Everyone here is a bit odd. Apparently eating things raw isn''t normal? You do this weird thing where you hold it over fire and wait than eat it. Somehow it taste different. I think I like raw meat much more. My mother recently has been rotting. It has been worrying me. I have tried to talk the rot spirits, trying to bargain with them to leave her alone. But the death spirits interfere. We have never used words. We used magic to speak. It is hard to explain in words but it like sharing everything. I am begging, they are final. She is dying. It makes my chest tight, I do not like it. She doesn''t deserve it. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. I confronted her about it. She simply told me it was time. I am not sure when I got so attached. I talked to the pile of bones about it and he told me not to try anything. It is her choice. But she is my mother. As months go by, she took her time teaching me how to speak to the life spirits. At first they hated me. I am everything that they are not. I am dead, they represent life and the concept of living. But I think my mother did something. Now they accept me, not hate, nor love. Just accept and respond to me when I ask, they do not rush to my mana like I am use to, but they come. My mother gave me a seed. She told me this is her kin, her child. Something her race makes when they are near death. Only a month later the village had her funeral. I met the man and women who took me from the stone city. Demenic welcomed me when I could actually understood him. He took me to the side and told me a story. It was early, early on in the history of all the races. A man did a vile act, he committed the first murder. The first sin against the gods. So, they cursed him. Made him undead, the very first of them. They cursed him with immorality, and this city is his way to make up for his mistakes. I am smart. The First Lich called me smart. Part of being a Nekomata apparently, blessed with wisdom and intelligence on par with the eldest of dragons. There has only been four known, well five now. Damenic asked if I was ready to live among the humans for a period of time. I said yes. I did not know many people here. The old bag of bone, mother, some of the kids that I mentally scared. Some of the adults that I mentally scarred. I liked to sleep and laze. But now I have to find a place to bury this seed. Only a fitting place will be worthy of my sibling! The women he was with drew something in the dirt, ¡°It is nice seeing them grow up, is it not Damenic?¡± ¡°It is.¡± ¡°So kid, where would you like to go? Like some advice?¡± ¡°I do not¡­ Maybe close to that city of stone you two found me at? The old bag of bones told me there are not many lands of blight that the enlightened race let run out of control and it defeats the purpose of this to just nap in a warm place does it not?¡± The many tailed women smiles wide at me and nods. ¡°Go sign up in an adventure hall. You¡¯ll met lots of people and can go kill lots of evil monsters so you can stay in this pretty form of yours.¡± She winks at me. Damenic sighs. ¡°He is not even ten women. Stop robbing the damn cradle.¡± ¡°Geez Damenic, I am being friendly. You wouldn''t know that is like even if it bite you in the ass and replaced your unbeating heart.¡± ¡°Women. The spell form. The wind rubbed some dirt away. Why show off so much?¡± ¡°Fine! You do it if you are going to nit pick each and every thing I do!¡± She crosses her arms and makes her breast look bigger. How? She seems to stick her chest out and prop them up with her arms. The unassuming man that everyone calls elder draws on the ground. Fixing some things than I feel him push raw mana into dirt. ¡°Goodbye Ebony, I will find you in a hundard or so years.¡± That was the last time I saw my home for quite a while. The true start of my misadventure. ~~~ Chapter 3 I am greeted by the sight of a wall of fabric, ¡°Ughhh, who could be using the damn teleporter circle this damn early in the morning.¡± I turn around to look at the source of the fabric. A girl with sleepy eyes walks through a doorway in the tent. Only damn thing that sack of bones was useful for was teaching me magic and words for object that I have never seen but humans use a lot. ¡°Greetings, I am sorry for the intrusion.¡± I step down form the raised piece of stone in the ground. I walk toward the entrance of the tent hoping that she will not want to talk. This kitty is not in the mood to deal with humans. I hear like, nothing good about them. Ever. Besides their taste that one time¡­ Now I am hungry. ¡°Wait wait wait! You gotta write down where you came form! There are rules for this stuff mister!¡± Of course. The girl stood in front of me. She barely comes up to my chest! And hers is not very soft looking. It looks like a guys, all flat and not appealing as a nap spot. ¡°I no speak. I sorry.¡± I wave to her, trying to walk past but her jaw is just dropping at my brilliant acting. ¡°You literally just greeted me in perfect fluentacy.¡± Fuck I did. ¡°I¡­ Uh¡­ I really do not know where I came form, it was a small hamlet with only a hundred or so¡­ people¡­ living in it. The only mage that lived there transported me here so I can start a live of an adventure. Please let me go!¡± I look down at her with a begging face. My eyes wide and the icey color makes for a wonderful pout. I see a shiver run down her back. A shiver form my cuteness! ¡°A-alright big guy¡­ Go, git. I have work.¡± She steps away from the tent entrance and tries her best to shove me out, ¡°Fucking scary eyes.¡± I do not think I was meant to hear that but I can not help but feel offended. Noone has ever called me scary! I have been called wise, smart, intelligent, damn cat, son, handsome, pretty kitty, ¡®Keke oh Ebony please do not punt this poor old lich skull. Last time I landed in poop!¡¯ But I being a polite and generous kitty do not say anything and walk out of the tent. What greets me, is more tents. Tents and people. But mostly tents. I miss my trees. I walk down the streets. Most people here are humans apparently. Some are¡­ Elfs? They look quite like mother¡­. Than there are the ankle biters. I can smell the vile brew that they oh so love. Once I go back, I am hiding his foot. I build up the courage to stop someone that I walk by, ¡°Excuse me, do you know where the adventuring guild is?¡± The man that I stopped is in full armour. Head to toe clad in plate that looks like drawings that I have seen from the pile of bones library. Just¡­ It looks less. The spirits do not dwell in the metal making it strong like the bone head could make. It looks alright form just a pure metal point¡­ I think. It is shiny and hurts to look at it because of the glare. Would it be warm to lie on? ¡°Sure bud! New to town? Mighty fine clothe you got on there, a wizard or mage form some fancy collage?¡± The man turns to me. Hands on his hips while his head is tilted up slightly to look me in the eyes as I look down in the eye slits. ¡°Town? Yes¡­ I am new to this...town.¡± More like a giant collection of human eating tents. ¡°Alright lad, follow me and do not lose me in the crowd! The center of the city gets heavy foot traffic and a tall an¡¯ thin thing like you could be swarmed in a instant!¡± Swarmed? I remember the bees¡­ Bad thoughts. Bees no like kitty. Kitty no like bees. Fire likes bees. Bees scream at fire. Kitty only feel safe when bees are all black and crispy.. The man in the armour walks toward a direction in the streets of tents. I follow after having to run as I spent a few minutes reliving a trauma of hunting in the forest. Bees. I feel a terror filled shive rock my body at the thought of the droning buzzing noise. It is not hard to keep track of the man in armour. His is a different color form most of the others in armour. Only his is so shiny that it looks like someone is reflecting the sun right in my eyes. Just¡­ So bright. Why so bright? What have I done to offend the sun itself that it has cursed me with the walking mirror that is my only guide! A few minutes late we walk up to the first building. One made of stone, very large. The tents are cleared form around it a good couple hundred feet but there are tables everywhere. The smell of the burnt flesh that everyone likes to make so much fills the air with a undercurrent of that vile swill of mead. Less offensive than the stuff that walking boneyard liked to make and tried to drink. It was everywhere¡­ My poor fur tasted like that vile stuff for weeks¡­ I was sticky and unhappy. We practically dance through the tables, people all wearing the same clothing and serving food along with those in armour and robes like mine. He dances through it like it is an act that he has practiced his entire life while I do my damn best to keep un on these weird human feet. I one time had to bed the mischievous wind spirits to help me speed up. They did so by a burst of air that took me over a few tables. I, of course landed on my feet. It is normal to land on your feet. The man in armour laughs, ¡°Doin¡¯ damn great to keep up with a B-rank through the trail of eattry!¡± ¡°Trail of eattry?¡± By the time I could respond, we got to the front doors of the massive wooden structures. Poor trees¡­ Why could they not just grow a great one and live in it? ¡°Yes! The unofficial test of situational awareness, flexibility, balance, speed and nerves! You did wonderful dancin¡¯ through the mass of waiters and adventures without ruinin¡¯ a single meal! That takes skill! What past experience do you have huntin¡¯ boy?¡± The man in armour pats my back as I smile at him. I like to hunt. ¡°A lot of things. I think the village head said I was the reason for multiple species of birds never being seen again around our village.¡± I smile at him proudly, purring a tad at the end. I am proud of that. It took a lot of work to hunt and eat that many birds. I felt so full I apperntly napped for a week straight and my tail split grew a bit. Apparently that is a sign of power, like the many tailed foxes that littered the village. ¡°Birds! Ha! Birds with spells! That is a mighty easy trick, doesn''t mean you have any experience fighting the BIG besties at all!¡± They were big! When I was hunting them as a cat¡­ ¡°I did not use any magic! I caught them with my bare pa- er¡­ hands. Yes. Hands.¡± I nod. Yes, hands. ¡°Well, catching them with your hands bare is a fine accomplishment! You sure are quick enough to do it form what I have seen!¡± The man in armour pats me on the back than walks through the doors of the adventure guild hall. I follow him while looking around with wonder. I have never seen so many people. The closest I have seen is the still men back in the city of stone that I lived in for quite a while. In front of me is a desk with some youngish girls standing behind with smiles on their faces and matching outfits. To my right is a massive board that takes up most of the space on the right side. Pieces of paper with writing are posted on it over each and every inch. Most of them relating to kill some monster in some forest. Some are herb collecting in said forest. Huh, is this all they do? The man in armour is still walking to the desk with the girls behind it. I follow him and look to the left to see a staircase and more murder mission. Expect these are for in town, bounties to catch criminals? But next to that board is one about people looking for teams. Healers seem to be the most in demand with mages behind. Of course I am in high demand! I am the prettiest of kitt- er¡­ humans. Yes. Human. ¡°Sarah! I need a registration document for the new guy here! Found him in the mage square wandering around lost like a loss child!¡± ¡°Quiet down Joseph. Also throw some mud on your armour! It is reflecting the light and causing the floor to smoke!¡± I look to the side where the young girl is pointing. Indeed. There is smo- ah there is fire. I walk over to it and step on it, hush fire spirits. This is not to be burnt around me. Go wild when I am not in the area! ¡°See! Look at that! Fearless to even fire itself! He even passed the trail of the eattry going at my pace using only one spell!¡± What am I missing about this trail that makes everyone so amazed? All the counter girls jaws are open in surprise. Their eyes locked on me. I puff out my chest in pride. A quiet purr rumbles in my chest. I am happy and proud. Yes, look at me! Witness me! ¡°Alright Joseph. We are going to still have to start him at the bottom of the ranks¡­ How about you take him on a run? Get him use to the way our system runs?¡± The girl that hands the man in armour the pieces of...wood? Really, really flexible wood. The man in armour hands it to me and a feather with some weird metal point at the end that is dripping some black liquid, ¡°Fill out the forms and we will go hunt your first monster!¡± I nod hestainly to the man. I am glad that he is helping me but why is his armour so damn shiny? The paper ask me, ¡®Name, Race. Age. Position in team. Spirit affenties (Please rate form hated to loved.) Next of kin.¡¯ The bag of bones taught me how to read and write in the most common languages. ¡®Common¡¯, dwarfish, elvish, dragonic are just a few of the lauganges that he said I would need out in the world. This seems to be common, a language made for trade among all species. I write down: Nek- ¡­ I can''t erase that. Mother said not to tell my race, that I could pass for a human if I kept my instincts reined in. I scratch it out and fill in, ¡®Ebony, Human. Not sure. Mage. Death (Loved), Fire(Loved), Decay(Loved), Life(Accepted), all other affinities beside holy, purity, order, light.(Liked.) Holy, purity, order, and light. (Hated.) I hand it back to the man in armour with a proud smile. The skeleton said I had a prodigious amount of affinities. I might of even had more if I was not a spirit and undead! ¡°...Sonny are you sure about those affinities!¡± I nod with a grin, my chest puffed out as I tilt my head up just a bit. The dwarf made me practice this. Said it made me look like a noble. Whatever those are. He just lets out a low whistle handing it back to the counter girl. He walks up to me and grabs my shoulder pulling me in for a one handed hug, ¡°Hello, yes armoured man?¡± ¡°Come on boyo. I bet we can snag a good catch with us working, if you do well enough I will even let you join our team!¡± He pats my back with a chuckle, ¡°We been looking for a good mage to climb out of B rank! We got a damn fine ranger, me a knight in shining armour.¡± ¡°¡±Very shiny.¡±¡± The counter girl and I say both at once. ¡°We got a cleric for healin¡¯ but with that high life affinity you could double as a backup healer! Come on! Though the trail of tables once more!¡± He starts to drag me outside while I look around confused. Did I just make a friend? Sneak attack and evil gods. Alright, tod- HEY STEELBREAKER WHAT THE FUCK I SAY ABOUT DRINKING IN MY CLASS? Fucking pour me a drink, that¡¯s right dip shit. Any dwarf worth there damn beard can smell a pint i a room this size. Gods below that is some vile shit, be better used to clean the rust off my hammer. Anyway, today''s lesson is about the spirits that rule our damn world. Long story short? We know jack shit. We know little bits. We know some people are born with the spirits around them loved and all that fuckry. We know you can act in a way and some fucking magical shit will like you and respond. The main ones we know are earned are death, decay, holy, and purity. SURE you can believe the evil get the nasty death and decay, while the good get the fuckign sheilds and healing. But boys, I think there is more. Lecture of the drunk blind dwarf magic king, Milk-Eyed Sparkleforge: 245 years ago. After the dance of the tables I am brought to a random tent. The man in armour walks in it huffing with his helmet of shine on, ¡°Oi fuckers! I found a mage!¡± ¡°I pray to th- oh. It is not a big tittied girl with teary eyes. Has he touched you anywhere you did not like?¡± A moderately attractive women in clean white robes walks up to me with what I think are kind eyes. She grabs me by my hand and pulls me more into the tent so I can see the other per- er¡­ enlightened race. I was told the word person as racist¡­ whatever that means. . A elf with grass and leaf colored robe over her body covering most of it. She looks up at me, than the man in armour. With a straight face she simply spoke, a very airy voice. This is honestly the first time I have ever met a elf, ¡°Not looking to add to the haram in your head? Wow Eve. Our little knight is starting to use his higher brain.¡± Her eyes linger on me. Actually is more the pocket that I have Mother¡¯s seed kept in a bag of holding. ¡°Tulsi! I do not think of you two in that manner! You are valued comrades that I face the horrors of the world with!¡± I think it was me...But I think the one in white robes looked sad when he said that. I pat her on the back with a smile. ¡°It is ok. I do not think he meant to step on your feelings.¡± Mother explained a lot about human feels to me. Same with that bag of bones and anyone else I asked. They told me that love was something intense but less seen than anything else. That the bag of bones almost died from a dwarf love being one of his undead. I will forever spit on the name of that nameless dwarf who could not finish the job. The girl in white shivered, her eyes showing fear, ¡°H-how d-did you know?¡± ¡°Mother and ...Uncle.¡± I spit that name out, ¡°Taught me some things about reading people. So, why has he dragged me here?¡± I tilt my head. ¡°W-well¡­ T-to test your magic¡­ Please stop touching me¡­¡± I tilt my head to the other side. I take my hand off of her back and watch as her body slumps, ¡°What spirits do you have? The holy ones just ran away from me as soon as you touched my shoulder¡­¡± That happens? Well¡­ The pile of bones called me a ¡®singularity for necrotic magic that can overwrite the existence of its counters¡¯. Whatever that meant. I tried remembering what he said since he said it with so much fever early on. Before the great prank war. I won that war. I took his head, exited that den of rot, and punted it. I celebrated by napping in the sun in my mother¡¯s home. ¡°I was born special.¡± I smile at her. It is true. There are less Nekomata¡¯s in the world than fingers on one of my hands. The girl in purity nods. Those spirits do not like me. They do not think I should exist in this world. ¡°Well, everyone. This is Ebony!¡± I am patted on the back again. Damn shiny man, you are petting me wrong. The elf for once showed visible surprise. The other two were confused by her face. I think. The useless pile of bones called elfs, ¡®Useless tree hugging, sober, prudish, boring tall fucks that ever walked these lands.¡¯ I think he meant they are strict with their emotions. ¡°A Elvish name?¡± The elf tilts her head at me. I nod. It is easier to explain than a Dyraid name. ¡°The one who raised me was a elf. My uncle was a dwarf. The village raised me. The elf was the one who named and cared for me the most. I lived a few winters with my uncle studying magic and how to properly barter with the spirits so I use as little mana as possible while keeping them happy.¡± I smile at them. It took lots of studying to get to the level that I could prank that walking graveyard into tripping and pouncing on his head. The man in armour for once, takes off his helmet. Under it is an average looking man. Much easier to look at, his figure seems smaller without the helmet honestly. I know you can forge metal to be welcoming of metal, earth, and stone spirits. I know there is some way to make a man¡¯s presence more. To keep a monster¡¯s focus, an audience attention. Maybe he has that in his armour? He turns to me with a smile on his face, ¡°This here is a man thrice loved by the spirits. Thrice hated. He has every single affinity else above the norm. If we train him up he could easily get us into rank A!¡± The man in armour seems excited. I wonder why A rank is so special. The others seem excited as well. They are packing up stuff so I stand to the side and wait for them to finish, ¡°Our hunt today will be a tribe of goblins that set up near the edge of the Great Emerald Sea. Ebony, you will stay near Eve. She is fantastic with barriaris being a loved of holy and mercy.¡± I nod. They gather all their belongings into some sort of packs that they carry on their backs. Backsakes are what I will call them! The man in armour has put his helmet back on. The sun shines on the annoyingly shiny tin bucket but I can not exactly look away, he is leading the way through this maze of people and tents. Have I mentioned the amount of tents? I will admit. I have been tempted to start a blaze. A single spark and watch what will happen. It is curiosity. The type of curiosity that ends with being wet, or stung, or sticky, or yelled at, or something bad. You know it is a bad idea but it is a itch you can not help but scratch. So, I cause a single spark. A smolder in the grass when no one was looking. The ember was next to a rope. A few minutes later while following the group I feel a mixture of shame, panic and utter enjoyment. I felt a life die and my mana becoming thicker by their death because of my involvement. By the time we exited the tent city screams were heard. I felt spirits being bargained with. Water being summoned from the air to quench the ground. Earth and stone being raised to smother the flames, oddly even fire spirits are walking off with their fair share of mana. But with every death I feel more stolen mana added onto mine, shoring up my reserves and preventing me from fading form the material world for a even longer time. ~~~ I think the fire killed a lot of things. My mana feels thicker than I have ever expreinced before. I hope too many people did not die, would be inconvenient to blending in. Anyway! They did not turn around to go help. The one in the pure robes tried to convince us. She really tried. But I think the elf does not like the tents and the armour man has tiny green man murder on his mind. I? I want to flee the scene of the crime. Hopefully it will all calm down by the time we get back and I am not caught for the firestarter that I am¡­ I really hate my impulses. Kinda. They are just inconvenient. The actual act is fun, just dealing with the aftermath¡­ At some point the girl in the pure robes asked to turn back and help the tnet city. Apparently it is actually called a tent city. Adventures set up tents to live in while they work around areas with monster populations or dangerous places in general. Apparently they do not have many actual buildings as it makes the ¡®city¡¯ easier to maintain, no real law force just people with armour and magic that would not take kindly to having their lives threatened or their belongings stolen. We walk for quite a while to my surprise, we walked till the sun set. The others start to set up camp. A tent is put up quite quickly, a fire is started. Even with the sun being low in the sky and the world itself darkening the fucking man in armour is still shiny. Like, eye hurting shining. Well if I had normal eyes heheh- no¡­ I will not take after a walking bonefest. No matter how fun is his laugh. I notice that the elf is staring at me once more without saying a word. Her eyes are unblinking like an owl but intense like a predator defending its home. Very unnerving. Am I am the spirit. She is a talented elf. The girl in white is kneeling and praying. The holy spirits are communing around her acting like messengers to the gods. The little I know of them is that they are an odd type of spirit. Unnatural in the world, they were made by the gods to help enforce and enact their wills while listening to their pious followers. Mother and the bag of bones never look quite happy when talking about them and they are a sore topic around the village¡­ I never learnt more beyond that they were evil, bigoted, and homodical. That there followers were poor misguided human¡¯s who could of lived peacefully with us if not for them. I scoot a bit closer to the girl in white robes. The holy and purity spirits recoil in horror and disgust at my presence. They have never given me a chance¡­ The girl in white robes seems to notice this and her doe like eyes become wide and tearful. Aw...Is she scared of me? I¡¯ve never been feared. I have been treated like a nuisance but never legitimate fear. After this little adventure, I might as well leave their party and start on my own. I might even make some friends. I will have to teach them how to pat me right while making sure they do not die. Human¡¯ die bizarrely easily for hat some of them can kill. I move away form the poor girl in white robes and sit under a tree near the edge of the warmth of the fire. I take a breath and offer a bit of my mana to the spirits that follow me. Mostly death, decay, spirit, and fire. The fire seems quite excited with what I have burnt today. Death is as uncaring as usual but they seem saturated form all of the lives that my actions have ended.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. You have to worry about the death spirits. The more you kill the more they become saturated with mana and something. This causes things to happen around you as they grow heavy enough with mana to interact with the world without needing traded mana. For most others this could mean there deaths, but for me it means that I could blight the land that I walk on and dull the flames of life all around me. That would feed the decay spirits but it harms and spites the life spirits that I try to keep in peace with. There acceptance was one of mother¡¯s last gifts, I do not want to lose them. I think, there is a opposite to the gods. If I would name it, I would say order versus disorder. The gods and their holiness are a sense of order to the world. But, blight is there bane. It is just a theory. Maybe I can find a priest that is not scared of me to test it out. The fire roars a bit louder as the wood crackles as I feed the fire spirits around us. The ash does not ember as the decay spirits keep it in its new, less whole state. The spirit spirits, confusing I know, are tightly woven, passively consuming little bits of my mana to keep me alive. I do not have a true body, this is the closest that I have. The life spirits make the grass grow greener, the dirt become more, the trees grow heartily. It is needed to feed them or they may become sluggish to your cries of need. The others are lying down. Noone has really said anything beyond small talk so I rest my back against the tree that I have been resting on. I close my eyes and enter a light sleep. ~~~ I am awoken by a knife in my throat. Now, that might of killed someone. I reach my hand to the arm that is holding the knife inside of my neck. It is green, ¡°Are you a goblin?¡± I tilt my head. My hand is firmly around its tiny wrist pulling its hand back and sliding the knife out of my neck. I send a small burst of mana to the spirits that make up my neck and I feel it reform. Something clicks as the spirits shift to a ay I command as the same way I think. I stroke flames under its hands skin. I smile as I watch its green skin light up with green neurotic fire. There are no burns, the soul in its hand was burnt to nothing. I stand up while holding the sobbing child size creature. I take a look around the clearing that the other are sleeping in and feel seven more of these quiet little sneaks around. I feel the one in my hand sob and kick my leg trying to free itself. I coat it in lich flame for a moment. I let go of its hand and smile as the limp body lies of the forest floor dead. I am glad those flames do not only work on birds and small rodents. The air around us is heavy with some sort of fog. The goblin that I just killed had some sort of mask on. I wonder what it is. Is it- I step backwards as one of the child sized creatures runs at me with a sword drawn. I alight him of flame. Green fire dances on and in his skin making a lantern out of a once living being. The death spirits do not ask for mana as they see I am taking lives. The fire consumes the souls of the once living goblins and uses it as fuel for itself. I still feed and direct the spirits. The six others drop down, simply a lit. It is hard to focus on more than ten with lich fire especially when I was trying to avoid hitting the trees and my new friends. It takes a bit more mana than I would''ve liked to convince the air to move the dust that fills the air. I spend the next hour, I think, trying to wake any of them up. The elf was the first to awake. Very violently mind you. A sharp wooden knife pressed to my neck till she realized her mistake. Next she sees the dead bodies around us with mute, horror filled eyes. ¡°What happened?...¡± Her voice is still almost ethereal even after just waking up. Elves are weird. ¡°Goblins¡­ I think, tried to poison and stab us in our sleep? I was up playing with the spirits so I noticed them and burnt them.¡± I smile at her, I hope I am praised. I like to be praised. The elf stands up while putting her arrow holder thing on her back. She notches an arrow and starts to look at the poor goblins. There bodies are rotting quite quickly, did I accidentally mix in some decay into the fire? It is hard to separate the spirits when they gather around you in a form a bit more than the sum of their individual influences. Fire, decay, death, spirit are what make up my fire usually and it is hard to separate them in a combat setting. Apparently still beyond my abilities. That is sad. I am brought out of my wondering by the Elf retching in a bush. Poor thing. The thing they put in the air must of been bad if that is her first reaction to it. I even thought that elfs had a high poison resistance? Or is that dwarfs? I am unsure. They really glossed over a lot of races. Elfs equal trees. Dwarfs equal mountains or underground. Humans are like vermin, you find them everywhere and even where you do not want them to be. Some weird things that are a mixture of some animal and humanity. Automations created by magicians giving multiple spirits a single purpose. A lot of races that I can not think of off the top of my head. The ¡®enlightened¡¯. I wonder why I have to play nice with them. I walk over to the two others. The man in armour is still beyond shiny with next to no light. I am really disliking my night vision a bit. It makes him a pain to look at. So, I ignore him! I nudge the girl in pure robes over and over till she stirs a few minutes later. The elf has dragged the rotting corpses to the edge of the clearing. The smell of rot is in the air. Not a pleasant smell but much more tolerable than the vile brown liquor that the bag of bones called firewater. That. Was. Not. Water. The girl in pure robes jerks away from my touch with a scream. I wonder why. It kinda hurt my ears, ¡°Tulsi! Joseph!¡± She backs away, pointing to me shakely, ¡°Lich! Lich fire! The gods warned of a cat of evil and fire! Vile being! Vile being that needs cleansed!¡± That is¡­ mean. I have done nothing to them. I even protected them! What do they have against lich fire? It is wo- My shoulder jerks back as the elf¡¯s arrow thuds into my shoulder. I look down to it. I look to the elf who is loading another arrow into her bow. I look to the evil girl in pure robes, ¡°You are a bother. I even protected you in your sleep.¡± I reach up to the arrow, lighting it on fire. I burn the wooden arrows to ash and repair my body while I light lich fire under the elfs skin. She falls down screaming and clawing and her skin. The string on the bow rots to nothingness while the girl in white prays on the ground. The man in armour is still sleeping on the ground. Poor guy¡­ we will not have to wake¡­ I look to the elf as I feel holy and purity spirits fight back against my fire. She is touched by the gods now. Almost the same power as my flames. I pour my focus on the elfs hands. The fire flows like a flood over the force of purity and holiness in the elf''s body protecting the rest of her charred and scarred soul and body. She is still screaming, annoyingly and loudly. The evil girl in robes is crying so I start to burn her as well. I focus on her throat so I do not have to listen to her scream as well. As soon as her throat lights up light fireflies dancing under her skin I switch my focus to the elfs. Her hands are gone, rotten with the bones laying on the ground in front of her. There is a look of pure horror on her face. I stand up and do my best to keep my mana flowing and spirits happy with my offerings against their opposites. I walk by the man in armour, picking up his sword. I hold it in a single hand, dragging the tip on the ground as I step in front of the elf. I kick her down on her back and plunge the blade into her neck. I feel the resistance of her skin and bones through the metal of the blade. The metal spirits hum in enjoy as they they serve the purpose that they were forged to accomplish. Taking a life. I turn around as I feel the spirits stop responding to me, the ones that I sent to the evil girl in pure robes. A blast of holy energy blast me in chest. I fall to the ground gasping and in pain. My chest is on fire. I feel the very spirits and beings that make me up are being poisoned by the holy energy. The poison is turning my very being into poison making the creeping burn spread over my chest. I beg the spirits to turn me to my true form, to shed the spirits that are burning and killing my very being. A jerk of shifting view lets me see a shining blast past over my head. The girl in pure robes is slapping the man in armour awake and preparing to run. I call fire to me and feel just how much mana that I have burnt to survive the creeping poison that is purity and holiness, ¡°Why¡­ All I did was protect you¡­¡± I try to ask her. She looks me in the eyes. Hers are filled with tears and fear. Is this why everyone is scared of humans? Because they are given too much power, but too much fear so they act out like children with a knife? I back up into the forest, the night filled forest where my fur would help me hide form her attacks, ¡°Oh holy protect of man and light. I beg ye to protect my life and my light. I beg ye to protect the life and lights of those close to me. I beg to ye to protect me and mine from evil and impure, form monsters that lurk in the dark.¡± She kneels over the man in armour. Her back is facing the ground and her face to the ground as the holy and purity spirits dance to her words. Her words are starchy and sound like she is speaking through spit and blood while trying to get the words out. The words are empowered and strengthened by her acts and prayer. I run around to behind her and try to step in to attack her from behind. Simple hunter things. I have to kill her. They know who I am, what I am. They will hunt me. They will try to kill me. I put a paw forward to step into the barrier. My paw burst into flame. Pure white flames that burn and poison my very being, why is this so painful? It feels like I am burning alive. Every inch that the flames touch feel like they are angoy. They are made to hurt, to make my death a painful and traumatizing one. I shed the affected mana and spirits. My world grows blurry as my mana plummets once more. My body demanding I kill something so I may live. I step away form the clearing. My eyes glaze it over to land on my pact that is inside the barrier¡­ Mother¡¯s seed is inside of it¡­ I have no way to retrieve it¡­ I will have to check in the morning or when they are gone¡­ If they try to take it I will show no mercy. ~~~ During the night I prowl up the goblin fortress. I feel my body become sluggish as I am losing mana to the spirits keeping me inside of the world. I found my first goblin asleep sitting under a tree. I sneak up to him, licking my lips and lighting my teeth and paws in lich fire. I run up to it making not a single sound as my pawed feet help me move silently. I jump and sink my teeth into its neck. Its blood taste bloody. Like licking a old dagged. The flesh is thin, surprisingly thin with very little muscle and fragile bones underneath. I clamp my jaw down and urge the fire to burn its skull down to the bone. Quickly I fell its body go limp. A rush of stolen mana floods my being making me tremble in joy and relief. I will life. I let out a quiet sob as everything catches up to me. I sit on the dead goblins lap, curling up into a ball with my nose buried in my tail as I shake from fear and panic. I was so close to dying. To fading into the ether and never interacting with the world again as I would have no mana to barter with so I could not kill to gain more. It is the same as death, but you just watch. Forever. I think a few hours past by as I lie on the cooling and rotting body of the goblin whos neck I tore out. At some point another goblin came to check on him so I tore his neck out as well and started to eat what little meat that I could to refill my mana. Fresh meat has some of the mana trapped inside to help the soul communicate with the body. It is why so many monster like to eat flesh. It is chock full of mana. The head has the most. The gooey pink parts that are in the skull are chock full of it. It takes some clever mana usage and spirit control to age the skull till it is brittle so I can lick up most of the soft and delicious tissue inside of it. I would of never learned this trick unless it was for mother. She taught me where mana rest in a body the thickest. The heart and the brain. The soul is impossible to consume at my state. So I burn it and use the energy to bargain for more powerful flames. It can get uncontrollable after a while. The more they are fed. The more wild they grow and less they will tolerate to be controlled. But it is worth it over a long, long hunt like I have planned tonight. I command the fire into my mouth to hide the glow and light. I feel it settle around my teeth and tongue making my mouth warm and comfortable. I track the trails that the goblins have left. They have made no effort to hide. Branches broken, footsteps in the mud. Grass stopped down and flattened over the course of countless feet treading on them. There is a smell as well. It grows more and more rancid and of rot as I prowl closer to their camp. I arrive at the edge of some sort of man made clearing. Huts, badly made tents, dug holes in the ground litter this large clearing where countless of those little green men are walking and sleeping everywhere. Bonfires are set up randomly with huts a bit farther to prevent unwanted fires in the clutter of bodies, fabric, and pelts. I gather as much mana that I could spare and gift it to the spirits with a single command. Kill, burn, rise, kill, rise, kill, rise. Necrotic flames that burn the soul, taint the land, rise the dead. I start it around a bonfire where numerous goblins are sitting around and sleeping, eating. The bonfire takes on the color of my flames. This gets the attention of the goblins around it. The spirits feed it a burst of mana making the fire explode sending burning logs all over the camp spreading the flames and decay. Some type of gas rises from the dead wood and bodies making more and more explosions sending parts of goblins and wood even farther away from the initial spot. . I feel a torrent of mana feed back into me. I smile as I climb a tree on the clearings edge and watch as the goblins are burnt, slaughtered by their dead kin, and die feeding me. The apex predator in these woods. I smile and try to cheer myself up. I almost died...But I lived. I learnt why holiness and purity is despised¡­ Why everyone hates the gods. Unkind, evil beings that need to be struck down form where they rain down heavenly terror¡­ Teach the humans that some of us are good and kind. Teach the elves, dwarfs, the beasts and everything else that we can live with them. I watch as the shambling still men limp down into the dug holes. I feel more and more mana floods into my as the sun rises. I walk away from my mess and the blighted land. I feel something draw me to it, begging for me to lie in the rotted land and rest there for as long as I exist¡­ But I have things to do. A promise to fulfil to mother. I need my bag back. ~~~ I return to the clearing staying as a cat. Smaller, harder to spot. The tents, most of their belongings, the bags are still here. Practically everything. I look over to the tree where I as resting and I see my satchel on the ground unopened and untouched to my heart uplifting joy. I am careful still. I slowly stick the tip of my tail forward of my paws and head to make sure if there is any holiness barrair like the one that set me a flame I loss as little mass and mana as possible. As I carefully walk towards my satchel no field lights me on fire. Good. Very good. I maybe be hypocritical about this but I do not like being on fire no matter how much I enjoy igniting others flesh and souls. Though it is more merciful than usual fire! It does no leave scars and almost always kills! I arrive at my bag of holding. I go through it with a happy purr as I feel everything is inside of it. Everything is how and where I left it. I command a spirit of air to lift the small pouch off the ground and tie it around my neck. It is easily small enough to be held comfortable there on my neck while being light enough that I hardly feel it. I climb a tree and curl up on a branch as today finally hits me and I crash. I lost and spent so much mana. I protected those enlightened only to get attacked by the girl in robe proclaiming a ¡®god¡¯ told her that I am vile and evil. Poor naive girl. The gods are not good. I was willing to be your friend. But you went and attacked me. So of course I defended myself¡­ At least the man in armour is here not to be a glare in my eyes anymore. The elf is still on the other end of the clearing rotted through. The life spirits are upset with me for making blighted land and rising the dead. The holy and pure spirits are gone, not even senseable like usual. Everything else dances around me like it is normal. My favorite spirits that make up my being are pleased at the tool of life that I took today. At least they are happy¡­ I shiver at the thought of the holy magic spreading through my body once more¡­ So painful. It felt worse than being on fire. Than being frozen, stabbed, or anything else. It was nothing but agony. It felt like someone trying to tear my soul and being apart with impossibly strong and brutal hands. It was the worse thing I have ever felt. I was so scared¡­ Mother this world is scary. Those in the pure robes are scary and unkind. The gods are evil. I just want to live long enough to get the chance to go home... Village life? Fur of midnight. Fire that burns emerald. It¡¯s footsteps left the land it tread on desecrated. In its wake it left legends dead but walking. Undead dragons roamed, arrows could not pierce its scales or hide. Blades tempered by the gods could not cut its flesh as it was a dragon. Undead heroes clad in armour of legends slaughtered armies before they were put down. Leading this march of death as decay was a cat with midnight fur. Of fire that burned emerald. We named it nekomata, and prayed to never see another again. Encyclopedia of cataclysmic beings, Volume 4. I wake up to the sounds of vomiting. Human vomiting. Or some enlightened race. It is much easier to demonize the humans for some reason. I look down from my resting spot in the branches to see a lot of pure white robes. A shiver of fear runs down my back as I remember the pain of a single girl in robes could cause me. How near death she put me. My fur stands on ends form an instinct left over. My claws dig into the branch as I take a few breaths. I can escape¡­. I can kill quite a few of them¡­ None of them are as strong as that one girl, none of them are as finely tuned to the holy spirits to resits my magic if I surprise them. I look up at the sun and take note where it is in the sky. I move quietly and carefully in the branches to a part that is mostly covered in shade. I commune with the spirits of darkness to coat myself and the area around me in darkness. To hide form the prying and fearful eyes of the humans down in there pure white robes of death. They do something to the goblin¡¯s bodies and the elfs. They bury them. I smile at this mistake. I push my mana into the death spirits with the task of rising them but telling them to lie still. For now. I watch as they set up tents. I watch as they send out scouts. I feel mana flow into my being form the scouts dying. I watch as only one returns, his snow white robe covered in blood and vomit. I listen as he tells of finding the unhallowed goblin nest, how countless goblins are roaming this forest spreading the blight and hunting any animal they can get there hand on. The men and women in white panic. I watch as they set up a barrier around their camp. I am inside of it and so is half of the bodies that I have risen. I watch as the sun sets and most of them lie in their tents. I watch till the moon reaches its apex in the sky. I jump down from the tree making not a sound. I stalk forward to the man in white still awake, tending a flame. I leap and bite down on his neck tearing his windpipe out and I watch him drown in his own blood. I rise the body in white robes. I order the bodies that are buried to rise from their graves. I feel my connection between them strained. Something they did is making it hard to control them. I light them a flame with lich fire. I order them to tackle the tents and hug those that are inside. I listen as the men in white scream awake, their souls burning in agony. Their bodies rotting off of their bones. Nothing left to be welcomed by the gods, their bodies mine to rise and do with as I wish. When the last man in white dies the barrier drops so I walk out while ordering the raised bodies to the goblin camp to stay and not roam out. I do not wish for the blight to spread and warrant even more of those men in white, so they do not chase me constantly¡­ I walk to the weird road that I saw that lead in and out of the tent city and I follow it away form the city while as a cat. I am not sure what I am going to get the chance to kill so I need so save as much mana as I can¡­ I miss my bed and my mother''s stomach. ~~~ A box on wheels pulled by horses stops in front of me. It looks fancy and reminds me of what that girl used when I was a cat. The door opens and out steps a girl, a young girl who has her eyes locked on me, ¡°Mother! It is a beautiful kitty cat!¡± I raise my head at the praise. Of course I am beautiful, I was bred to fit among nobles. There are no other cats as beautiful or as graceful as I am. Because I am a powerful mage kitty. I need to remember that. The people in white cloth could not stop me even when together in a place filled with holy magic leftovers. I am special. ¡°Clara, do not touch it. Do you not see the bag around its neck? It belongs to someone. It might be a nature mage familiar.¡± A much more mature voice comes from the interior of the carriage. It holds a bit of that sound wisdom that my mother held. I walk up to the girl while purring and rub my face on her leg taking care not to show just how intelligent I am. I have learnt what humans do against those different than what they expect. The girl looks to be between five and ten. I am not sure really how to measure human age. But she is young and I come up nearly to her knees. She is wearing a sky blue dress that I am currently rubbing on and against. Her hair is a blinding blond that looks like someone melted down gold into hair and placed it on her head. Her eyes are green, like a summer green grass. Nobel blood I think. ¡°Come back to the carriage Clara, the adventurer city said they are in need of the king. We are the best thing that they could have. Devil cat. Ha! They would not know what a devil is if it bite their areses.¡± ¡°But mother! The Lady Ranger is dead by the Shining Hero¡¯s own blade! The Praying Maiden was god-touched just to warn them of a evil in their midst, the evil took her own comrades blade and killed her! They were heros! Now they are sayin they might give up adventuring!¡± Are they talking about the man in armour and the girl in pure robes? ¡°That is right Sweetie. I am glad you remembered all that form eavesdropping on me and the messenger.¡± They are ignoring me. ME. Well the girl looks like she is panicking from getting outsmarted by her mother. That means she is ignoring me. I headbutt her leg and meow at her. That will sh- HEY WHY AM I BEING PICKED UP?!? ¡°Look mommy!¡± The little brat sniffles while hugging me to her chest. I am stretched out to my farthest reach. I can barely feel the ground with my tail, taunting me with its firmness and non-children hugging, ¡°The kitty tried to cheer me up! It must mean it likes me!¡± I do not. I like to be praised, petted, and fed. Not picked up, squeezed like a toy, and shown off as a trophy! ¡°Clara! Put. It. Down.¡± ¡°Yes mother¡­¡± I am reunited with the land and I take a running start down the road, away form the city of tents and the hugging child. I will be cute and social on MY terms. Not hers. ~~~ Days past as I walk down this road. No other carriage has stopped to try to pet or pick me up. I went at my own pace. I spent some time on a very sunny day simply napping in a leafless tree out of reach anything that would touch me, or attempt to steal my bag of holding. I then spent the rest of day cleaning my fur and making sure that my coat is shining and beautiful. During the night I actually chanced upon a hamlet about the size of my home. A single figure is walking around during the dark, so as a cat I naturally follow! I want to see how twisted these humans are, if the gods have corrupted even simple and good folk that tend the land. At some point the figure, a women, noticed me and smiles, ¡°Such a cute cat. It¡¯s fur is so dark I did not notice it till now. Are you friendly?¡± I meow at her and walk up slowly. I put my head against her rough dress and rub my face all over it to show how friendly I am, ¡°Such a cutie. I think that is what humans say? The hive has information that most humans have pets¡­ Would you like to be my pet?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. What. ¡°Ahhh why am I asking. Of course you would. You¡¯re so cold and death clings so close. I am doing a good deed on taking you in.¡± I am picked up by two soft and small hands as the not human hugs me close to her chest, ¡°So so cold. Do not worry young cat, I will help you become alive, or you will die¡­ I have never tasted cat.¡± Why is she still talking in that sweet voice while talking about eating me? I am not tasty! I am dead! Halp! HALP! ¡°Shhh, do not be afraid my gentle little pretty kitty. Andrea will take care of you! Humans talk like this to their pets! So I must as well to understand humans and how they are so dominant on this world!¡± Oh no. No no no no no. ¡°No no no no no no no no.¡± ¡°Kitty¡­ spoke? Cats don''t speak¡­ do they.¡± ¡°You are NOT eating me! I am not tasty!¡± I bite and struggle my way out of this not humans arms. She drops me and looks down with a sad look on her face that the children of the village had when I was not in a cuddling mood, ¡°I do not wish to eat you small kitty! I wish to care for you!¡± ¡°I am fine! I am not near dead, I am dead!¡± I stare her up in her eyes, ¡°Do not even think about stinging me or calling some hive down on me. I will not be a happy nekomata!¡± Her eyes widen and smile very creepily at me, ¡°A nekomata?! Perfect! You can help my hive and I farther our brood!¡± She giggles and crouches down, petting me once more. It is a very rough petting, I do not like it, ¡°SOFTER! Softer! Damn to the hells, how are you so bad at petting?¡± She tilts her head to the side, ¡°But this is how they showed me to pet the dogs. Is this not how you pet cats?¡± ¡°No no no no! Your technique is awful. Put your palm on the middle of my back, then lightly stroke down it to the tail. Stop BEFORE the tail! I still do not know why my butt goes in the air when that happens¡­¡± Following my instructions the not girl strokes her hand down my back while sliding her spare hand under my body and picks me up, ¡°Well little nekomata, you have a name don''t you?¡± I nod, ¡°Ebony! My mother gifted it to me and I love it quite much. I will not be called anything but it to those that know me.¡± She giggles and takes my paw in her little feminine hand shaking it, ¡°I am Andrea, well that is what they call me. This village. In my home, I am simply a drone. I am disconnected from my hive¡­ on banishment.¡± She looks to the side. Looking a bit sad. A instinct form being raised with humans had me headbutting her chest lightly. To cheer up humans that look sad. She has not put any part of me in her mouth or¡­ other parts that means to eat me. So? It is not bad if I stay with her for a bit? ¡­ I might just like being taken care of. ¡°No talking around the other villagers! Just play that cute cat that I picked up randomly and took in!¡± ¡°What do I get out of it?¡± I tilt my head. It is completely insane of this girl for her to think I will just simply hunker down when I can keep roaming. True it is dumb to try to fit in with humans in my human form till I learn more about them, and more ways to avoid those in pure robes. ¡°Food, you still like food?¡± I nod. ¡°Pets as well? You seemed to elite about.¡± ¡°I am a elite specimen of a cat! I deserve the most elite of petting and food!¡± I huffed and break eye contact with this not human. She smells a bit off. A bit more damp and the earth spirits seem to dance more heavily around her. The spirits of the mind that I have seen hive mind like beings utilize are despondent, refusing to acknowledge her at the moment. So far. Her story seems true. Besides. I miss home. This place reminds me of it. But with humans. I will have to actually act like a cat around others. Maybe I can use my human form to socialize when I want? The girl walks quietly to a single house on the edge of the little village. I am in her arms, my tail wrapped around her arm as I lean against her soft chest yawning. It is great to be a cat. I watch with sleepy eyes as she opens a door with her arm that is not holding me than walk inside the dark home. She places me on the ground so I take it as my que to start to explore to my unbeating heart''s content. The front door enters into a wide and large multipurpose living room and kitchen combination. There are a few doors that lead to a bathroom, a bedroom, and a small study like area. I of course head straight to the bed and jump on top of it while curling up in a ball with a small purr. A bed is much better than the grass of trees. I do not need to sleep as I am dead, but is is relaxing and feels right. I am not even sure how I sleep as I am dead and more ghost than real. But I do. It is odd, but I am glad that I can. The world would be more dull, would pass too slow otherwise. I would not get to play with interesting humans as much. I would not get to dream. I would not get that amazing feeling of waking up from a long and deep slumber where the world does not seem to exist and you are just utterly relaxed. Sleep is wonderful. Naps are wonderful. Food is as well. I watch with sleepy eyes as Andrea climbs into the bed. She slides into the soft covers and closes her eyes, ¡°Gods¡­ This is strange.¡± I hear her mutter. Maybe to herself? ¡°What is?¡± ¡°A nekomata. A damn nekomata just stumbles on my doorstep. I do not believe this to be honest. Not completely. I am from a old, old, old hive. A race of doppelgangers that rose aside humanity. Just the humans. We had our highs, and we had our lows. But for the countless years that we have lived among them, learning, mimicking there was a general understanding no matter what. We will never be as great as them. We asked why a few times but made no real effort to investigate why. I broke off from the hivemind, I became an individual. It rarely happens, almost always as punishment but I choice it¡­¡± ¡°You are all over the place. Tell me something, one thing.¡± I huff. It is so bad listening to people tell stories like this. Mother did it all the time and I disliked it. The only thing the bag of bones did right was tell a story and teach. ¡°Right right¡­ I¡­ Um¡­ Where do I begin?¡± ¡°Your race?¡± ¡°Right. Probably need to know that. The Hive¡¯s first memory was a life as a human. Some type of wild magic, where the spirits danced free twisted it into something not human. We look human, act human, practically the same inside and out but we all are connected by blood and the hive mind. We all share all our memories. We call ourself dopplegangers. We can have children with others of our kind of other humans, but the fertility rates among us are low so our numbers have never been high. There is a lot about us that make us, US, but we have never been a hero. We have never slayed a dragon. We have never became a great mage. We have never been GREAT¡­ We are lacking something that humans have. But we are much older. Much wiser¡­¡± Never once was I spoken. It is strange to see a human speak of themself as if they were many compared to one. I hear her quietly sob. I do not know what she is feeling but I get up from my comfortable ball chape and curl up near her chest purring. Here we lay till her sobs grow quiet and her chest rises slowly than falls just and slow telling me she is most likely asleep. I fall asleep shortly myself, no reason to be awake. So I do what any cat does, nap. ~~~ The next morning I am woken up by a hand messing with me while I sleep. I tuck my paw under my chest to hide it from the molesting hands of children¡­ with children? I open my eyes to see two children staring at me with wide and happy grins. One a girl, and the other a boy. The girl lets out a squeal of joy, ¡°Miss Andrea! Look how pretty its eyes are!¡± ¡°Yes Maple, he has very pretty eyes.¡± ¡°Miss Andrea you are sure he will not lash out like the farm cats?¡± The boys grin slowly falls as what I assume a small trama overtakes him and he steps away. A light scar is visible on his hand form what looks like claws. The girl has no such fear as she is petting and touching my back and ears as I try to melt into the covers to escape the grabby hands. ¡°I promise David, he is a very intelligent cat. If you go get him a piece of smoked ham form the pig that we put down a few days ago, he will probably do a very simple trick for you.¡± Oh you¡¯re fucking kidding me¡­ Tricks? TRICKS?!? I THE GREATEST CAT TO LIVE WILL DO TRICKS FOR CHILDREN? I huff and get up form the covers while putting on the best greater than thou expression and air that I can muster. I jump form the bed, walk to the kitchen, jump up on a table than use that to reach the stop of the shelfs out of reach of any of the fuckers who do not know my greatness. ~~~ How¡­ How did he get up there? We stare up at this strange, almost human like nekomata that is glaring daggers at the children and we. we will admit, when we first saw those malice filled eyes we nearly sunk to my knees and begged for my life. One life that the hive has lived saw the power and aftermath of a nekomata rage. An entire content was blighted, dead roamed. Everything was dead. It took a fleet of elder dragons to burn the blight away form the land, and since than it has been a desert content with very little life inside of it. Only dragons rest and nest on those barren lands and rise their young in peace of foolish young heros that wish to seek glory by killing young dragons and making armour from their hides. But that was another life that we saw the mistake of that¡­ Thankfully, Ebony has simply wished to jump out of reach from the small children whose parents are working the field right now. It is our job in the village, to watch over the young that are too young, weak, or sick to work or practice in their trade. We smile up at the black cat that is plastered out of reach from us lowly mortals. Well till we get the chair and get him from up there if he tolerates it. Well David has returned with a few sausage links that the village butcher probably gave him out of kindness. That is what we love about village life, it is usually very kind and giving. Well off villages like this one will happily share their belongings or products. Selfish villages usually never live for long, only towns have that sin crawling inside of them. We watch as Ebony tilts his head to stare at the sausage links. His pupils widen in a reflex of hunting cats. A small purr is heard through the room as he gracefully jumps down from the high cabinets and sit down right in front of David. He lets out a loud meow while his eyes are locked on the sausage links with hunger. If his eyes could eat, the meat would of vanished already. ¡°I¡­ Uh¡­ roll over?¡± Poor, sweet David. He has always been so nervous around others, even we. We watch with a mixture of amazement and horror as the nekomata, one of the apex in necrotic magic roll over on the ground. A being that could bring a content down to its knees and bury it. Making thousands of years of human work vanish as it traveled the world. A being like that rolls over like a dog. We stare in a mixture of shock and amusement as the sweet child David tears off a piece of the sausage link and puts it on the floor in front of Ebony. Ebony picks it up in his mouth and escapes up the table, up to the cabinets once more For the rest of the day Ebony stayed up on top of the cabinets outside of the reach of the children. He slowly, very slowly ate the sausage with a small purr being heard throughout the room form that small cat. It is amazing just how loud yet gentle the sound he can make is. We think that there is magic behind parts of it. Maybe he does not even know how much ease he can use magic. To speak so freely with the spirits. There are rare ones that are born loved by some spirits but never to the degree as dragons, dryads, beast of the wild, beast of spirit. The closest option we have is to ascend, demonify, or become a lich like being. We have to give up being human. That is why that little cat up there terrifies us. It is beyond us. We have no options expect to welcome it into our home, gain its favor and hope that it offers its help. We can not be fooled. No matter how human it may act, it is a beast. The two children parent come in the early evening to retrieve their children and greet our new guest. They thank me for helping David get over his small fear of cat, even just if it was the first step. It helps that Ebony does not feel like a regular cat. The spirits dance around him too well, but we do not think they notice as they do not have the experience of countless lifetimes in dabbling in magic. A few minutes after the children left we heard his voice. It sounds like it was whispered in our ear just inches away. He does not even open his mouth to speak. The sheer harmony of the spirits with this being is that starling, he uses them to speak. The legends did not give the scale of minute mastery and the depth of the relationship of this monster and the spirits of the world. ¡°I want more of those ¡®sausages¡¯.¡± ¡°I will see about getting some if I can pick up a bit more work, or you can beg the children?¡± Gods, We plead you. Do not let the- ¡°Stop. Do not call the gods unless you want me to react in kind.¡± We freeze. Our minds stop the prayer that has become a habit at some point in all of the lifetimes that we have lived. We look to the nekomata and watch as its tail flicks sharply with undisguised hatred and fear. It¡­ fears the gods? ¡°W-we are sorry.¡± ¡°It is fine...I thought it would be obvious that I do not want the holy and purity spirits around me. They and death along with decay do not agree. Toxicity.¡± We make the mistake of locking eyes with the avatar of death that is resting on top of our shelfs.It¡¯s eyes are wide. Dilated pitch black orbs with a ring of frost around them. A cold cold abyss. We shiver. It feels colder suddenly, ¡° It hops down form the shelfs to land on the floor in front of me. It¡¯s mangled tip of a tip flicking as it walks past me, rubbing its cold body on my pants legs. I-I should reconnect with the collective. To w-warn them¡­ and not be alone with this thing. I feel alone for the first time. ¡°Let¡¯s head to bed? I wish to rest the stress of the children away.¡± ¡°I have a few chores left¡­¡± I keep my voice steady as it claims my bed for itself. ¡°Alright. Good night Andrea.¡± ¡°Goodnight Ebony¡­¡± Why does he have a dyrad name? So many questions in that little nightmare.