---chapter 4
The white Siberian tiger blinked at the haggard raccoon sitting across the counter from him. He was short for a tiger, but still not a force to be reckoned with. His name was Kiryan. He owned a bookstore. Or at least that would be all he claimed to. His true business was a back door underground weapon dealer, maker and supplier.
Currently, he was having a mug of tea with Cymaenie, an old friend of his.
“You look like complete and utter hell.”
“Thanks. If it’s any consolation, you still look white.”
Kiryan rolled his eyes. “No shit Sherlock. I’m serious. You look bad. Don’t you sleep any more?”
“Not playing midnight capers and working the desk job.”
“Why don’t you give up the collar and tie?”
“Because I can’t risk that sort of suspicion.”
“I think your behavior now is suspicious enough to commit you. No one has to know about your real night job.”
“It’s just not feasible right now.”
Kiryan nodded sipping his tea. “So what have you got in the bag?”
Cymaenie opened his pack and emptied the contents onto the counter. Kiryan clapped his thick paws together delightedly and purred slightly. He shuffled carefully through the daggers and guns examining each with expert care and knowledge.
“You always have fine taste in stolen goods. I will give you that.”
“That’s not even the best part.”
Kiryan’s attention was focused back to Cymaenie. The raccoon picked up the heavy sword and laid it on the counter before his friend. Kiryan pushed aside all of the other items as if they were play things and carefully ran his soft paw over the cool silver of the blade.
He claimed never to purr as it was not something tigers did, but Cymaenie had to even grin as he was quite distinctively purring.
“This… this is a prize to revel in.” Kiryan grinned widely baring his fangs.
“I thought you might like it…”
“Like? Not strong enough a word raccoon friend. You have not an idea of what this sword is do you?” Cymaenie shook his head. “Holy shit. I can’t believe it.” Cymaenie looked up at him and watched as he wiped away a tear.
“This is the very sword of the greatest White Tiger: Shar’nak. You can tell by his crest forged right here.” He extended a single claw and tapped the blade. “See the pattern here… just above the guard where the blade and hilt become one? It is his personal crest, inscribed by the greatest Tiger warrior of all. This very blade freed our furs from the oppression of the Lions, and won the Battle of Ta’jol. You can almost feel the power of Shar’nak emitting from this blade. I can’t believe that you stumbled across this. I thought it was destroyed many hundreds of years ago.”
“You would think for a sword of such importance, he would have had a better security system on it.”
“Who? Who had such beauty hidden from the world?”
Cymaenie recalled the name plate on the door. “Professor Borer Head Curator of the Herdnan Armory Museum.”
“That old bastard had this in his office? Do you have any idea what this blade is worth, holy shit...”
“Beats me. I just steal the stuff and collect the green backs later.”
“Ah yes… well these other pieces I can give you the going rate for of course, however this…” he felt over the blade again.
“Consider it a gift. Just give me some ammo for my Eagle and we’re square.”
Kiryan leaped out of his chair and grabbed a cardboard box from a shelf and tossed it on the counter. He then grabbed up a few billfolds of twenties and tossed those on top.
Cymaenie set the cash aside and opened the box to reveal it full of .50 calibur rounds. He was about to protest but, decided it was clearly a fair trade as Kiryan was holding the weighty blade in both paws and examining every square inch of it.
It took some willpower but he was able to put it down in the corner, where he looked it over for a moment and smiled.
“You have made my day.” He wrapped his arms around Cymaenie and gave him a hug. He parted rubbing his paws together delightedly. He looked at the sword once again, and grabbed up his tea and took a sip.
He stopped in mid drink when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his friend looking rather down. He set the mug down and looked Cymaenie over.
“What is the matter? Something is on your mind. I had a feeling that you came here for more than weaponry.”
“I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. By my tail and whiskers I’ll be shaved if there isn’t something serious pressing on your mind. Spill the garbage, raccoon. I’m your friend. We’ve known each other for quite some time.”
“Really. I’m fine…” Kiryan crossed his arms and looked at him sternly, clearly unconvinced. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.” Cymaenie’s heart started racing. Blood pumped into his face, making the room spin. “Go on.”
Cymaenie couldn’t even formulate words together in his head. Everything became a muddled mess. He felt sick as if he was going to throw up, cry and scream all at once.
“I…” he started. He was not sure of the implications of his actions. Could he go on? His eyes floated around the room nervously, but every time his gaze passed by his friend, the tiger eyes were intently fixed on him, truly caring. “I’m gay.”
Kiryan smiled. “That’s what’s on your mind? Damn, here I was thinking that you killed someone in the mob or broke out of jail.”
“You’re… alright with it?” he felt timid and small, yet surprisingly good. It was almost a weight had been lifted off his chest.
“Yes of course. What do I care what you find interesting? So long as you are happy, that’s all that concerns me.”
Cymaenie breathed a sigh of relief. “I was so worried that you would shun me.”
“Please. I don’t give a shit. You know that.” He waved it off and picked up his mug. “It’s a touchy subject I understand.”
“Well, you are the first person I’ve told… Hell Kir… I don’t even know if I am or not.”
He looked him over. “Cy… you run around shirtless in spandex shorts. That should be a good enough clue don’t you think?”
He smiled a little. “Well, I’m not so sure. I’ve been having these mixed emotions and…”
“What do you like?”
“Well there is Feirya and she…”
“Forget about her. Pretend you don’t know anybody. What do you like?”
“I dunno. I’ve always found an attraction to other males. But, yet I know that its… shit man. I don’t feel well.”
“I’m here for you and you know that.” Kiryan said getting up and grabbing up the pot of hot water and filling a mug. He grabbed one of his tea bags and tossed it in for it to steep.
“I know. And I really appreciate it.” Tears had formed in his eyes and were rolling down the fur on his cheeks.
A warm smile spread across the face of Kiryan who gave him a friendly hug, then handed the mug to Cymaenie. “Whatever you think you are, I’m okay with it. What are friends for?”
“Thanks. That really does mean a lot to me. Really. I don’t know if I could go this alone.” His paws were shaking slightly as he sipped the tea and thought about his attraction. As the hot tea warmed him throughout, he felt better. He felt right. Whatever may come, he took comfort in knowing that he had a friend to back him up. With that, he could over come anything.
“So, is that a fair price for the other goods?” Kiryan asked changing the subject. He was honest. He didn’t care what Cymaenie was or where his interests lied. It was business as usual, and BS as normal.
“Oh. Yes. More than enough. It was an easy heist. I didn’t even have to break a sweat.”
Kiryan nodded. “Well, come on back. I have to show you the new merchandise I got in and we’ll see if I can’t get you to upgrade your sword.”
Cymaenie laughed. For the first time in his life, he didn’t have a strange weight on him, and he could freely enjoy himself. He smiled warmly, glad to at last feel liberated.
