A Tale of Two Tails, 1/5 of Vol.1 by YaBoiMeowff < Submission

Keywords male 1234725, fox 255010, cat 220418, feline 157021, boy 84267, young 73039, shota 36123, magic 26345, embarrassed 15841, forest 15550, shy 15250, crying 14492, boys 11930, grin 5662, friendship 5391, neko 4562, evil 4490, abuse 4265, nervous 3588, kemonomimi 3201, woods 2949, drugs 2911, innocent 2756, desperation 2216, bullying 2038, war 1803, begging 1728, scythe 1029, innocence 1016, adolescent 871, exploration 849, confident 569, console 360, occult 334, survival 289, conflict 223, orphan 180, coming of age 160, magick 128, orphanage 79, diplomacy 42, eccentric 13

PERDITION

Chapter One
Gregory

“Mmmm, so you're... Gregory?” His voice was coarse, lethargic. It sounded deeper than it was.
Gregory's neck tightened and his head rose until Phreqs' black leather shoes came into view. “Yes.” He replied, his voice a hoarse whisper, his brow damp with cold sweat.
Phreqs stared at him, his form faintly illuminated by the candles on the outer walls and the two candles at the front edges of his chair. They were hidden away in the darkness, beyond where Gregory could see, but he knew they were there: he knew the other Alchemist's were watching from behind him, their faces covered with crimson, silken robes, their scents blocked by ritual Magick.
“A fox.” Phreqs finally said. “There are not many foxes left.”
“No. I'm...” He swallowed. “I'm one of the last ones.”
The room went silent. Gregory took a heavy, stifled breath. Not again, not more silence, he thought. How long do I have kneel here like this? What is he thinking? Am I going to be accepted?
He swallowed again, running over the same question for the millionth time. What happens if... I'm not?
“Look into my eyes, Gregory.”
His throat tightened with fear. His head slowly shifted up to meet Phreqs.
Why am I so scared? He wondered. Why am I so scared to look into his eyes? Why am I so scared to be here?
I... belong here, don't I?
This is my home now.
Phreqs' black robe was little more than a black splotch on a black surface that seemed to eat any light that came near it, but Gregory's eyes had adjusted and he could make out his silhouette now. He followed it upward, until he saw a hood.
Phreqs grunted and rose from his low, slouched position. He sat up straight and pushed his hood back.
Gregory's eyes widened. He looks like a normal man, he thought. He isn't a monster. He's just...a man.
Phreqs looked back at him, nearly squinting, his brown eyes and white flesh twinkling faintly in the light.
He's just a man, but... he looks so pained. So old, but so... young at the same time.
“Gregory,” Phreqs said, his voice a whisper. In the silent chamber, Gregory heard it clear. Do you know what it means to be an Alchemist?”
“It's to...” Gregory paused. He thought back to all the times he'd pondered this question. To all the different answers he'd given himself at different times. He needed to make his depth and profundity known here, but he wanted to be concise and elegant as well. “It's... change.” He finally answered.
Phreqs' head cocked the slightest bit to the side. “Oh?”
“Y-Yes. It's... to change something in accordance with will.”
“Mmhm. And what do you change with alchemy, fox?”
“You....” He paused again. A feeling of brashness overcame him, a sudden confidence in light of his immediate danger. “What do you not change with alchemy?” He finished.
Phreqs stayed silent for some time before standing. He rose slowly, his movements lethargic and pained., and before he rose completely, a hooded figure appeared at his side and helped him. Another hooded figure appeared from his other side and handed him a book.
“You are no fool, fox. You did not come here unprepared.”
Gregory watched him approach, one small, pained step at a time.
“Do you know what it means? Do you know what this act of change is? What it means to change the world in accordance with your will?”
Gregory swallowed.
“Do you fathom the immensity of this action? Do you know what it is to wave your finger and have it... be done? Do you know the cost, boy?”
“The... cost?”
“What is the purpose of existence, Gregory? What is the point of it all?” Phreqs stopped a few steps away from him.
“The p-point?”
“Yes, boy. Why do you suffer? Why do you endure this? What is the point?”
“...What's the meaning to life?” Gregory asked.
“Call it what you will. Just tell me what you think it is.”
Gregory looked up at Phreqs, his throat tight. “It's... I....” His heart pounded against his chest and his blood ran cold. “I... I d-don't....”
“You don't know?” Phreqs pressed. “You don't know why you live?”
Gregory fell silent for several moments. He could feel all the eyes in silent hall on him, but he had no idea how many eyes there were tucked away in that oppressive wall of black.
“It's....” He began, tentatively. “Why I live...?” He looked up at Phreqs. His eyes widened a bit as another wave of confidence and power washed over him, like the one from before, but stronger now. “You want to know why I... endure?”
Phreqs' chin rose. He looked down at Gregory, his eyes a bit wider now too.
“There's only one reason anybody lives. It's because there's a purpose.”
Phreqs continued to look down at him.
“I couldn't tell you what it was, though. All I know is that it's there.”
“...You know that it's there.” Phreqs repeated. “But you don't know what it is that's there?”
Gregory thought about this for a moment. “Yes.”
“And how do you, boy? What tells you that there is a purpose at all?”
Gregory's chest tightened. He'd known the question was coming, but he doubted his ability to answer—let alone in a few words. “I know, because... why else would we be... condemned to live?”
Phreqs' eyes tightened. “Condemned to live?”
“Yes. Why... would we be forced to endure this? Why would we be trapped here?”
“We're trapped here?” Phreqs asked curiously. “But what of suicide? Isn't that an option?”
“Yes, but... that's an end to life. An end to this life, or to that life. Who's to say that it ends... life, though? Isn't life the only thing we've ever seen? How do we even know death exists—exists in the sense that... in the sense that we can go there, or that we can manifest it, or that... we can feel it, that it exists at all as an opposite to life? Isn't life just a collection of various elements that comprise a sentient being? At least fundamentally? Isn't it just... processes? How does this one thing, all grouped together in our terms, in our definitions and understandings and our world view, how can we accurately say this... homunculus of human thought we call a body or a 'self' has an opposite at all? Isn't it typical of something with no actual opposite to simply become.. negative? The lack thereof? Isn't that... death? A fancy way of saying 'nothing?' If death only ends a life, but leaves existence intact, then wouldn't existence just continue to beget life? To force this... hellish experience over and over again? Forever?”
Phreqs remained silent. No part of his face moved. He seemed so still in the pale light that Gregory was not sure if he was still breathing.
After awhile of this, Phreqs groaned softly.
“...And as for life,” he began. “You claim it is just... a homunculus of human thought? Just a series of aspects of existence mashed together into one convenient logos?”
“Y-Yes.”
“And you believe this logos to fundamentally be... a condemnation? You consider life a sentence that goes on forever?“
“To a degree... yes.” Gregory answered. “If this is not a condemnation, then I don't know what i-”
In the time it took for Gregory's heart to beat, Phreqs pulled a massive slab of steel from seemingly nowhere in the darkness and swung it toward Gregory. By the time his mind caught up with Phreqs' appalling speed, the slab of steel was already hovering by his head, cold metal pressing into his cheek. A drop of blood ran warm down his icy cheek, saturating his fur.
A... scythe.... Gregory thought, his body numb from the sudden rush of adrenaline. So fast....
“You said life was a condemnation, didn't you, Gregory?” Phreqs asked, his eyes wide now.
“Y-Yes.” Gregory whispered.
“Then tell me something. If life is such a condemnation, why are you so afraid of having yours taken away?”
Gregory's eye shifted toward the gigantic scythe's curving, glimmering blade. It extended out past his head from the front and presumably from behind. The blade was wider than his torso.
No man should be able to hold that with one hand.... It's huge.
He took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. The initial urge was to say that he didn't know, to say that he was sorry, to say it was all a mistake and that he wasn't cut out to be an Alchemist, but in the back of his head, in the back of his heart, tucked away in the depths of his very core, he felt a force—something moving, something alive.
He opened his mouth and the words came out, surprising even him as he spoke. “C-C-Condemned t-to live. A-And c-cond-demned to die. And condemned t-to fear....” Gregory's eyes shifted up and met Phreqs'. “But w-w-w-worst of a-all, c-condemned to cling forever to the very instrument of my t-torture.”
Phreqs' eyes widened. His lips curled up into a smile, barely visible in the light. Slowly, the scythe fell away into darkness. Phreqs relaxed and pulled it close, sliding his hand up the massive shaft and letting huge blade rest on the floor. He approached.
“Here.” Phreqs reached out with his other hand and gave the book to Gregory. “You will need to read this. And then you will need to read it again. You need to study this relentlessly. Over and over again. Whenever you have an issue that you cannot work through, you will turn to this book. Whenever you have a question that only you can answer—this book will be your guide.”
Gregory took the old tome from him. There was no cover, and when he turned it around, there was no text on the back.
“Now,” Phreqs smiled again. “I have one more question.”
“...Y-Yes?” Gregory swallowed. The force he'd felt before, it writhed around, making him shake and making his head spin.
“Tell me, boy....” Phreqs reached out and wiped the small bit of blood on Gregory's cheek.
Gregory felt something rise up in his throat, like he was going to vomit, but without the nausea. It came only with a sense of worry, a sense of expectation, and a deep desire for satisfaction similar to wanting to spit rising mucus rather than swallow it.
Phreqs looked at his bloodied finger. He reached out and touched Gregory's forehead. He dragged his finger down, leaving a small trail of blood. “...What's your favorite fruit?”
Gregory opened his mouth and the word tumbled out, as if spoken by another.

Chapter Two
Leonidas

Every few moments I skipped forward to keep from being tugged. Mrs. Shire could only walk so slowly to accommodate me, and since I got slower as we walked, my arm occasionally over-extended and I was tugged forward—never hard, but never comfortably, either.
I kept this up until she abruptly stopped and turned around, pouting. “How about... I teach you a little trick?”
“A t-trick?”
“Yep. It's for when you're scared.” She kneeled down and met my eyes with a soft smile. “It's an easy one, too. Wanna hear it?”
I nodded.
“Just take it one step at a time, okay? Don't think about anything other than your steps. Don't think about me or you, or about what's ahead. Just focus on your steps, hon--even if you have to look at your feet while you walk. It'll help take your mind off all the bad stuff.”
I tried to avoid her gaze, but she placed her hand on my arm and stroked it. I caught myself looking up at her, and found her eyes gazing back. They were deep green with a subtle brightness about them, like pond moss in the sunlight. They made me feel warm whenever I looked at them.
She was smiling.
“Will you do that for me, honey? Will you focus on your steps and get through this...? I promise with some time you're gonna feel a whole lot better. This is a really great place and I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure you get taken care of--but for now, for now, hon... you just have to trust me.” She stroked my arm again. Okay?”
Tears were beginning to sting my eyes.
“You're hearing me, right, Leo?”
“Uh huh.”
She smiled and patted me on the head. “Do it whenever you get scared, alright? It's a good trick.” She got back on her feet.
“...Mmhm.”
“You ready to keep going?”
“Mmhm.”
She took my hand in hers again and continued down the old, dusty hallway of the place she'd called West-End--the place that was supposed to be my new home.
As we walked, I watched Mrs. Shire from behind, admiring her tail as it swished back and forth and twitched lightly at the tip as if it had a mind of its own. It was long, short-furred, and black like the rest of her fur; with the exception of the asymmetrical traces of white on her front side, that rose up from below her blouse and stopped at her neck.
She was an older woman, possibly in her thirties, and she was a cat, just like me—the first one I'd seen since mom died. Our fur color was almost identical, though the white of my fur was solid around my neck and extended up the side of my face where it completely surrounded my right eye. Also, my tail had a slim, curling strip of white that extended from my lower back all the way to the tip, and ended in what my mom had called a 'snowball.'
Sometimes I wondered if Mrs. Shire and I were distant relatives. I knew that wasn't true, but it was nice to think about. If we had been related, then I wouldn't have needed to be 'processed by the State,' or have been sent to an orphanage to live with other unfamiliar kids. I could've just gone to stay with her, which I would have liked a lot.
Most of the 'social service' people who'd helped me had been nice, but Mrs. Shire had been the only one who'd made me feel better. Whenever she was there, things weren't as painful, and the future wasn't as scary to think about.
West-End, however, was scary, even with Mrs. Shire holding my hand. The walls were made of an old, worn plaster: aged yellow in the worst spots, with a two-tone shade of dirty white barely surviving in the others. In several areas, the plaster had broken away, revealing crumbling bricks below. Deeper in the hallway, pieces of wall had been chipped off, as if by hand, and there were some holes in the plaster, about the size of fists.
At the tops of the walls sat opposite facing windows packed closely together, reaching from one end of the hallway to the other. Light was abundant during the day, but there were only a few candles, and they were spaced a good distance apart. I wondered what it looked like at night.
Night. I tightened my grip on Mrs. Shire's hand.
With a quivering breath, I looked down at my feet in hopes her trick would help distract me from the bad thoughts. As my head lowered, I caught sight of an image in motion at the end of the hallway. A large figure trudged in our direction—a human boy, several years older than me and almost as tall as Mrs. Shire.
I nearly choked on my saliva in panic.
I tried to ignore him and focus on my feet, but it felt as if my mind had turned to sludge. My chest grew tighter with each step, and I could feel my tail beginning to press into my side with fear.
The moment I saw his feet from the corner of my eyes, my head started moving on its own, and by the time I realized what had happened, I was already looking straight at him. He was looking back at me with a heavily furled brow and squinted eyes, as if anger and confusion were fighting over control of his face.
My heart thumped against my chest and I tore my gaze away. A frigid chill ran through my body.
After managing a few more numb, breathless steps, I inhaled sharply, loudly enough so that Mrs. Shire could hear me. She turned around to face me, looking worried.
“You okay, honey?”
I nodded in return, but tears welled up in my eyes and gave me away. I was taking quick, shallow breaths, and my tail was coiled around my lower body like a snake.
“Aww, hon, c'mere.” She kneeled down again and pulled me into a hug. “I know it seems scary right now, but you'll get used to it, okay? You can be safe here.”
I sniffed.
“Just wait until you meet Headmaster Daughtry. He's a really nice guy and he's gonna take great care of you.”
She said it to cheer me up, but it only reminded me we would soon be separated.
“You know,” she pulled away from the hug and looked me in the eyes. “He used to be a governor. Your new guardian's gonna be a pretty amazing guy.”
“A... governor?”
“Yep. Do you know what a governor is?”
I shook my head.
“It means the people chose him to be responsible for making laws and deciding on what's right. And you know what's even more amazing than that? He decided to give it all up to take care of kids like you. I guess that's just the kind of guy he is.... Now that doesn't sound so bad, does it?”
I shook my head and sniffed again. “Is he nice?”
Her gaze softened and she smiled. “The nicest.”
“...Is he a cat, too?”
Her expression faltered for a moment. “No, he's human, but try not to worry too much about species, alright? That kind of thing doesn't matter all that much, and I know for a fact Daughtry is very much for Equality.”
I nodded.
“So do you feel a little better now?”
“...A little.”
“Okay, good. How about we go meet him, then? His office is right over there.”
She pointed to an old, wooden door a few steps in front of us, chipped away at the bottom from years of use, a square hole in the center where I imagined a window had once stood. Mrs. Shire reached out for the knob, and without turning it, pulled the door open and led me inside.
The room contained a low coffee table, an empty receptionist's desk, three chairs up against a wall, and three doors leading to what I imagined were other, smaller offices. The walls were the same old plaster as the hallway, but cleaner and a more consistent shade of white. Mrs. Shire let go of my hand and looked down at me.
“Okay, hon, just take a seat right over there while I go in and talk to Daughtry. I'll get the paperwork filled out and do all the boring stuff and then you can meet him, okay? I'll be out in a few minutes.” There was an extra silky edge still lingering in her voice.
I nodded and climbed up on the chair furthest to the left. I was too short to reach the ground, but I liked being able to swing my feet back and forth.
Mrs. Shire knocked on the only closed door other than the exit, and after being greeted by a faint “come in” from a male voice, she looked back to give me a reassuring smile. I mustered up a polite smile before she disappeared into the room.
“Daughtry....” It was a strange name, one I had never heard before, but one I had already begun to associate with good thoughts.
I stared at the closed door for several moments before turning away to face forward, toward the door we'd entered in. The broken-window hole was directly in front of me, and immediately beyond it, on the crumbling plaster wall, I could see a white patch where it looked as if graffiti had been scratched out with a sharp object.
I shuddered.
Who was I going to be living with?
The big kid from earlier had been so much... older. Was it possible there were others as old as him? Or maybe he was a counselor?
What concerned me even more than his age or his size was the expression he'd given me. Why had he looked so surprised? And, had it just been my imagination, or had he looked disgusted?
I had to live in this place, with people like him, surrounded by people who could love me or hate me, people whom I could love or hate in return. People I'd never met in my entire life.... It was nauseating to think about.
My entire body felt sore, and I kept shifting around on my chair, trying to find a position that would make the uneven, hardwood comfortable. I let out a low, woeful groan.
Looking back at the door to Daughtry's office, all I could think about was how much I wanted Mrs. Shire back by my side. I wanted to hear her say more magic words, like the ones she'd spoken in the hallway; the kind that made the pain melt away as if they were bringing me back to life. But I knew the sooner she came back, the sooner I would be forced to meet my new roommates, and worse yet, the sooner she'd leave me for good.
When she was gone, I would truly be alone. For the second time in my life.
Maybe there was a chance I wouldn't be staying here? Maybe Mrs. Shire would realize how obedient and kind I'd be as a foster son? Maybe she would adopt me-
-The click of the door opening interrupted my thoughts. I looked over and found Mrs. Shire exiting the room, smiling at me. I realized my hands were balled into tight fists, and I quickly relaxed them.
A man followed close behind. He was several inches taller than she was, and had greasy, dirty-blond hair that was lumped into numerous tangles and curls, all of them of varying thicknesses, with the lowest ones slicked back behind his ears. His tawny eyes were so soft and relaxed that next to Mrs. Shire's they looked almost dead. His white shirt was loose and flat, yet puffy around the arms, and there was a collar around his neck.
“Okay, Leo, you ready to meet your new guardian?” Mrs. Shire was smiling softly at me. She walked over and kneeled down. With the elevation from the chair, she was at eye level with me.
“This is Mr. Daughtry. Or, as you're gonna be calling him from now on: Headmaster Daughtry. This is the nice man I was telling you about earlier; the one who gave up on politics to take care of kids with no families—kids like you.”
Kids with no families.
Kids... like me....
“You may not know it now, but when you get older you'll understand what a big sacrifice that was for him to make.”
I looked over and caught him staring down at me with an expression that oozed power, both in the physical sense, and in another, harder to pinpoint sense.
In a split second, everything that I was had been handed over to this mysterious man of whom I had never spoken a word to, this man who had never spoken a word to me.
“I just want to share a few words before I leave, okay?” She must have seen the dread that appeared on my face, because in that instant, I saw her lips curl into a slight smile and her eyebrows purse into a taut look of pity. “I need you to listen closely, Leo--to every word. They might be really, really, important for you some day. Alright?”
I forced out a nod. Tears filled my eyes, and I struggled to hold them back.
“I won't lie to you, hon, you've been through a lot for your age--for any age--and the truth is, you've got a lot more left to experience. There are going to be some great days, but there will be some where you're not going to want to go on. Days where you're not going to want to take another step, even when you absolutely need to keep moving. You'll want to lie down, Leo, and you're not going to want to get up sometimes. But you remember, don't you, hon? You remember what I told you about walking?”
I nodded, and tears began running down my cheeks.
“What did I tell you about the steps?”
“Y-you said,” I sniffed, “you said t-to keep walking....”
“I did. To focus on your steps and keep walking. And that's exactly what you have to do. And do you know what you do when you can't walk any further? When you can't stare down at your feet for another second?”
She paused, as if expecting a response, but I remained silent.
“You look up, Leo. You have to look up. You have to look towards Gaol and to DELIVERANCE and ask for help. Naol loves playing tricks, especially on kids who are having a hard time. He going to be out there, trying to get you turn away from Gaol, to condemn you forever to YOI, and he'll come to you at your worst moments. He'll try to make you hate your life, and he'll try to trick you into thinking bad thoughts. It's evil, and whenever you feel like you can't take it anymore, or whenever you're so scared you can't stand it, you just gotta look up and ask for Gaol's help, okay? That's so important I can't stress it enough. Gaol is always going to be there, even if you can't see Him. He's always going to be with you. And He'll be there when you die, if you accept Him while you're alive.”
I sniffed again.
“All you need to know is that He works in mysterious ways, and we're all part of His plan. Okay? He's always with you. And when He is with you; Naol isn't. That's the only way to get through this. Never lose faith, hon, and never lose hope things will get better. Because they always will. It can just take a real long time.”
“...The last thing I want to tell you is that you can never stop walking, alright? Naol will try very hard to make you think there's a choice--but there isn't, hon. The only choice is forward. Don't even acknowledge anything else. Be humble and keep moving forward, and Naol will never get his hands on you. He'll never pull you down into YOI. That's all you have to do. Keep moving.... Will you do that for me, Leo?”
I nodded. “Mmhmm.”
“Alright.... Good boy.” She got to her feet and looked down at me with that same, soft smile. “I guess it's time for me to go now.”
“No...!”
“I have to, hon.”
“W-will I ever see you again?”
She paused. Her smile faded for a moment, but quickly returned, even stronger than before. “Sure. You'll see me again.  But you gotta keep moving if you want that to happen.”
“I w-will! I promise! Just please come back to see me! Pl-please d-don't....!” I wiped the snot leaking from my nose onto my forearm. Hot tears were trailing down my cheeks even faster now.
“Don't worry, hon. You're gonna love it here.” She turned away and faced Headmaster Daughtry.
I looked over and saw him smiling at me with the utmost gentleness.
“Alright, he's all yours.”
“I'll be sure to take good care of him, Shire, you have nothing to worry about.” He smiled that same, gentle smile at her, though there was something more in his eyes now.
“Oh, I'm not worried. I know he'll be just fine here. Lucky for him there are people like you around.”
“You flatter me.” He smiled, this time with genuine pleasure.
“Anyway, I have to get back.... Believe it not, I have a consultation with Comisosa himself.”
“Comisosa? Am I permitted to ask what about?”
“Just reporting the numbers for Marge. He checks with us directly now and again, but I'm not sure why.”
“Comisosa has a complicated arrangement of priorities. I am sure he has his reasons for whatever it is he is doing. Regardless, give him my regards. I am sure he will be happy to hear from me.”
She chuckled. “I am sure he will.”
I held my breath as Mrs. Shire slipped out the room, extending one last smile and one last wave through the empty panel in the door. I wanted to call out to her, but I was at a loss for words. I could have begged her and tried to bargain with her in every way possible, but I already knew what the results would be. It was better to just spare myself the added shame and rejection.
I heard the clicking of shoes on tile.
Headmaster Daughtry kneeled down in front of me, just as Mrs. Shire had, except now, I had to look up to meet the eyes.
“Hey, buddy. I know Mrs. Shire already told you my name, but I was hoping we could get formally acquainted.” He extended his hand to me. “My name's Daughtry, but it's customary around here to address me as Headmaster Daughtry. What's your name?”
“Leonidas....” I shook his hand.
“Leonidas, huh? That's a cool name. I think it fits you really well.”
He paused for a moment, but continued on when I didn't respond.
He put his hand on my knee, covering the entire thing with his palm. “I can tell you're pretty worried about this, and that's totally normal, okay? But you're gonna have a whole family here of supportive brothers—that's what we call each other here, pretty cool, right?--and you're gonna be one 'em. One of us. So don't worry, alright? You're gonna love it here.”
Combined with the unexpected tone of friendliness, the hand on my leg quickly became a soothing presence. When he let me go and stood up, I almost missed the warmth.
“You ready to meet 'em?”
I looked into his eyes again, and suddenly, they didn't seem so dead.

Chapter Three

Daughtry twined his fingers around mine and led me deeper into West-End. The yellows hues of the walls began to overpower the white. Crumbling spots began appearing more often. Whenever I licked my lips, I tasted the scent of stale crackers and sawdust lingering in the air.
“You're gonna love it here, Leo.” He looked back at me and smiled. “We have lot's of things here that other orphanages don't. You know we have an entire library? Now, it's nothing compared to the Capital's library--but for an orphanage? It's really quite a sight.... Do you like reading at all?”
I swallowed. “Y-yeah.”
“Oh, you do, huh? What a lucky guess. I'm sure you'll find all sorts of cool things in the library then. Oh! Here is the cafeteria.”
There was something about Daughtry's relaxed manner of speaking that put me at ease. He sounded a bit like a kid, but a smart, protective one. When Mrs. Shire had been there, it'd been all business, but now it was as if his excitement about West-End were a curse he was committed I catch.
Shortly after passing the cafeteria, the hallway split into two directions. He led me to the right.
“The library is down there. You can explore that in your free-time, though. Right now I'm going to take you to the 'Bunker.'”
“...The Bunker?”
“Yes, yes. Don't worry, it's nothing bad. It's just the name the kids came up for the bunks—the place you all sleep. That's where most of the kids spend their time when they're inside, too. Are you excited?”
Where we all sleep? I thought. We all sleep together...?
I'd known it was possible I'd end up sleeping in a room filled with other kids, but that had been one of the least pleasant thoughts. The sort I'd actively tried to keep from my mind.
Toward the end of the hallway small groups of human kids sat leaned up against the walls. The closer we got, the more heads that turned toward us.
“Hey, don't worry so much.” His grip on my hand tightened. “You're gonna love 'em.”
The closer we got, the better I could decipher their expressions. I'd been wrong in my belief that they were looking at us—they were definitely only looking at me.
Some eyebrows rose in confusion, while others went forward with the squinting of their eyes. The worst were the ones that remained still, disinterested yet contemptuous, like they were looking at a wandering insect.
Heads turned sideways to whisper to other heads, but the eyes always stayed on me. Some of the whispering I could discern. Whispers of confusion, and for some, disgust.
Daughtry dragged me past them, forcing me to step over and between their legs with terrifying pace. I pictured what would happen if I stepped on somebody's foot by mistake. A flurry of semi-connected images ran through my head, more like panels than cohesive ideas. There were sneers, threats, and laughter, and a few glimpses of a foot suddenly sliding out in front of mine, and my body toppling to the ground.
I swallowed.
The hallway terminated into a dead-end. A few moments before reaching it, I noticed an opening in the wall, about the size of a double-door. There were hinges on the walls, but they were decrepit and long broken.
We turned into the opening.
A sharp current of warm, musky air flooded into my lungs. All the tension that had been creeping up through our walk plowed into me, like a brick colliding with my chest. The room made me feel uncomfortable in my own body, and eerily distraught with my own mind. I felt as if I'd walked into a different world.
The walls were the same white-yellow, and the windows were preferable to the ones in the hallway—now closer to the ground and capable of being opened. The aroma of stale crackers and sawdust remained, but had lost the tinge of an unoccupied building, and in place had taken over the bouquet of young stench.
Beds lined the walls, leaving a wide, empty area in the center. The covers were all the same; the sheets off-white and the thin, scratchy looking blankets on top a deep shade of blue. The bed frames looked cheap and hollow, as if they would creak loudly with every movement.
The room bustled with human boys, in groups, and others still in bed with their pillows pulled over their heads. A few kids sat alone, some on the outskirts, some sitting near groups, but not daring to claim a spot within them.
Just like in the hallway, a plethora of white, human faces looked up to meet me. The first few regarded my frame with astonishment, and this had prompted the remaining bulk of the room to snap to attention the way dominoes fall in a line, each with their own sort of astonishment.
Daughtry led me to the middle of the room, undaunted by the sudden silence.
“Alright, boys. I've got some good news for you.”
Various hushed comments reached my ears, such as religious exclamations like “Great Gaol!”, and some other, less than happy comments. My favorite was the 'are you serious?' that had come from somewhere in the back; as if my presence there was not only a surprise, but an affront.
Daughtry continued. “As of today, you boys've got a new Brother. As you can all see, he is like Joseph, so I take that they will become fast friends.”
Some snickering and too-hushed-to-hear commentary swept through the room, but quickly died down.
“I'd like for you all to treat our new Brother with respect. The same respect you would show anyone at West-End; the same respect you would show me; the same respect you would show your family. Because that is precisely what we are, and that's what he now is to you. A Blood Brother.”
I shuddered. I couldn't pinpoint what about his words sounded so sickening, but I had the instinctive feeling they were utterly untrue.
He looked down at me. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”
I swallowed so hard I worried for a moment my tongue would slide down my throat. I forced my head in his direction, and then I shook it back and forth. I hear more snickering, and a few mumbled whispers at my expense.
However, Daughtry seemed to understand, and instead cut the laughing off by looking up and continuing on.
“His name is Leonidas. As you can all tell, he is still very young—the youngest boy here. I expect you all to take good care of him and make sure he is comfortable. I know all you won't let me down.”
Ending his speech sooner than I'd have liked, Daughtry led me over to a bed occupied by a small group of young, lazy-eyed paupers, one sitting cross-legged on the floor, one leaning against the wall, another sitting at the foot of the bed, and the last extended out on the bed, his shoes scuffing the blanket.
“Alright, guys. Outta the way. This is Leo's bed now.” Daughtry's words came out smoothly, completely lacking in effort or authority or fear. I couldn't tell if I liked the effortlessness or not. Something about it seemed unnatural.
Their expressions had been heavy, misery-laden scowls that screamed of injustice by the forces of life itself, but somehow when their attention went from Daughtry to me, they hardened.
The boys got up without a word, but said more with their looks than they could have ever said with their tongues.
Daughtry guided me to the bed and sat me down. He told me if I needed anything to come see him. He suggested that I go and try to make some friends—this he suggested with a barely perceptible aura of urgency, as if something of importance depended on it. He told me again about the cafeteria hours and that the library is always open. And then he was gone.
If my regaling of his departure makes it seem hasty, then that is because it was. Or at least, sitting there with an ocean of eyes gazing at me, it felt that way.
I sat on the bed with my legs close together and my hands on my lap. My feet didn't reach the ground, but I didn't swing them this time. The urge to shed immediate tears had passed, but my gut occasionally lurched up into my chest and I had to stop it from rising to my throat and turning into sobs.
I expended every effort to put on an expression that seemed aloof, but not too aloof. To make everyone know how indifferent I was, but casually indifferent, as if no effort was needed on my part at all. Indifference to the stares and the jeers, which increased in volume with each passing moment. The comments on my name, and the comments on my species. I wanted them to see how little I cared that I had essentially been put on display in the center of a town, of who's primary export is tomato; and I had been labeled with a great sign pointing to me saying 'CRIMINAL.'
Feet in shabby shoes clicked toward me. A shadow fell on the floor, darkening the spot I'd stared at since being left. I looked up, and found the same kids I'd seen earlier, the ones who'd been kicked off my bed.
“Hello.” The shortest one among them spoke first. The one who had been stretched out on my bed, who had apologetically scuffed my blanket.
“H-Hi.”
His lips pulled into a smile and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if contemplating something. “What was your name again...?” He squinted at me. “Oh yeah. It was... Leosnidas, right? Weird name.”
Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down next to me, close enough so that I could feel the warmth of his hip against my tail.
“Um, n-no ac-actually i-it's Leonidas.”
“Hmm? That's what I said: Leosnidas. That's your name, right? It's Leosnidas?”
His friends moved in closer, the second shortest of them—the one who had been sitting on the floor cross-legged moved to my opposite side, completing a semi-circle around me.
I swallowed. “O-Oh, i-i-it's just that, you're, you're saying it wrong... kinda. It's Leonidas. Not L-Leosnidas.”
“Oh!” He said, suddenly chuckling about something with his friends. “Is it now...? Y'know, I should really apologize. With a name like that, you must be nobility or something.”
“Oh, n-no, I'm not nobi-!”
“-No, no! ...It's cool. I wouldn't want to offend someone like you. Someone who thinks he's the son of a king or something.”
“You mean a prince?” The second shortest boy with the pale brown eyes chimed in. Silence hung for a moment. The blond-haired boy turned to look at him, squinting hard.
“I know what a fucking prince is, Lucky.”
The two taller boys laughed. Lucky looked frozen to the spot, but his face hardly reacted. My gaze shifted down toward my feet, and I pondered whether Mrs. Shire's trick applied when still.
“Anyway,” the blond-haired boy turned back to me. “I just wanted to tell you that I love your tail.”
My head inched upward in surprise. The moment I realized he had complimented me, I felt the tip of my tail softly flick in reply. He noticed the motion and replied to it.
“Oh yeah. It's great. Don't you love his tail, boys?”
The second tallest boy with the scraggly red hair grinned. “Yeah, it looks like a wild one.”
“Oh, yeah,” the blond-haired boy replied. “A very wild one. About as wild as they come.”
The tallest boy, with the broad body and the open, unimposing expression scoffed out of nowhere. “An what're you gittin' at Blon? Talkin' about the boy's tail....”
“You don't think it's a nice tail, Buddy?” Blon turned toward him. “I think it's great. Just look at it-”
In one motion Blon turned back to face me, and in one swipe he seized my tail with a hard grip.
I inhaled sharply and nearly jumped off the bed. “Ow! Ow! Ow!”
“See? Look at it. It's got the white at the tip and everything. It's cute, itn't? Just like some fresh sweet cream.”
“Please!” I begged, my hands hovering in air, the fingers writhing and flexing in discomfort. “Please...!”
Blon looked over at me in confusion. “Please what? What are you saying 'please' for? ...Can't you speak properly?”
The boy with the red hair laughed. Lucky smiled.
“Please stop... hurting me!” Tears started to well up in my eyes; the same tears I'd been desperately holding back for so long.
“Stop hurting you? By Gaol, I'd never do something like that! I'm just showing your tail off to my friends.... You don't mind, right?”
“I-”
“-Naaaaah. You don't mind. See guys. Isn't it nice?” Every time he emphasized a word, he squeezed down extra tight, sending what felt like a lightening bolt of pain through my body.
“Puh-puh-please...!” The word came out as a nasally, miserable sounding sob. The last thing I wanted all these large, imposing bodies to hear from me on my first day at West-End.
Blon scoffed and threw my tail against my leg. “Gosh, I guess I have to since you're gonna be such a selfish baby about it.”
I whipped my tail to the other side of my body and clutched it in my hands. Staring intently at the point he'd squeezed. I pulled my body in as close as I could, like a ball.
“Good Gaol.” Buddy shook his head as he watched the scene transpire. “You're a damn animal, Blon.”
“I don't think I'm the animal here.” Blon replied, laughing.
The red-haired boy cackled, and Lucky laughed a moment later.
“You like that, Ant?” (He spoke to the red-haired boy). “Then you're gonna love this.”
Blon's hand began to slowly veer into my field of vision. It took me a moment, but once I realized he was reaching across my lap to grab my tail again, I scooted away from him. He scooted with me and kept reaching.
When we reached the wall, I pressed myself as tightly against it as I could, and covered as much of my exposed tail as possible with my hands. His hand kept coming, slowly, painfully deliberately. He was inches away when he paused, and after a few moments of stillness, his hand reached up and patted my cheek.
Each tap made me lurch. When he finally pulled away, sobs slipped from my throat—hoarse, stifled, sobs.
“Jeez, what a baby.” Blon said. “That bothered by just a little touch to the cheek.”
“Y-You know, there's only one reason he'd be that bothered by something like that,” Lucky spoke up. Ant and Buddy turned to look at him, but Blon kept his eyes on me. “He, uh, he must be a stag....” Lucky went on. |You know, all... sneaky about it.”
The small area went silent, all except for the sound of my sniffling. Blon half-scoffed half chuckled.
“Yeah,” Blond said smoothly. “That would explain it, wouldn't it? I've heard stags can be really paranoid about touching, cause they never know when they're getting turned on.”
Wait, what, I thought. What is he....?
“Ha, ha, ha!” Ant boomed with laughter. “The cat's a damn stag!”
Buddy rubbed his face in exasperation.
“Y-yeah,” Lucky chuckled. “He's probably been gettin' off this entire time.”
“I knew he was a loser the moment I laid eyes on him, but I didn't know he was a stag, too.” Blon's lips curled into a frown. “Ugh! And to think I touched the little bait's tail!”
“I hope you don't catch the stag.” Ant chimed in. “I hear it's contagious.”
“I'm not too worried. I hear there's a cure for stag. At least for the contagious stuff.”
“Oh yeah?” Ant's lips curled into a smile.
“Yeah,” Blon leaned toward my ears. “You just beat the little bastard who gave it to you half to death and it goes away.”
“Is that so?” Ant said, laughing.
“Alright, Blon, that's enough teasing the lil' thing. This is pretty bad even for you.” Buddy interjected.
“Bssh, don't tell me when enough is enough, Buddy. I'm doing this entire orphanage a damn favor. Make sure this little pussy knows his place.... You hear that, Leosnidus? We didn't need a little brat around here, least of all another...” He looked me up and down with disgust. “Fen.”
Blon had some more choice words for me, some of which he said closer to my ears than I'd have liked, but at that point, they all became one long, dull string. There was no more definition; just the understanding that the words hurt.
When he finally stopped insulting me, they walked away and headed to the other side of the room. After a few moments of sitting at the edge of my bed, too scared to move, I slipped into a lying position and curled up. I pulled my robes up to my face and sobbed.

Chapter Four

I don't know how long I lied there sobbing. How long I lied there, refusing to look up, refusing to move.
Whenever my tears slowed and the pain subsided, a deep, black void formed in my chest, like a jagged rock sitting juxtaposed to my heart. It swelled and swelled until my chest threatened to explode and my heart was nearly crushed. Then my body would shudder with pain and a new sea of tears would stream down my face.
But the void melted away, eventually, and the tears came to an end. I remained on my bed, curled up, my face pressed to the bedspread. I heard comments about me from afar, but they came and went like distant events in a nightmare. The details alluded me, but I noticed most of them were not particularly kind, nor were they particularly mean, either. Most of my 'blood brothers' looked at me like I was a lamb to the slaughter, like a sacrifice worth as much as I weighed.
And then there was the nagging question in the back of my head—why? Why was I being treated like this? What had I done to incur their wrath?
I was too tired to consider it in any depth. I was too confused and awash with this strange, miasmic sensation that made everything around me seem vague and nightmarish. All I knew was that Blon, despite all of his projected 'friendliness' seemed to derive pleasure from my pain. The more I squirmed and begged, the more intense the look in his eyes. The more he seemed to want to hurt me....
Thinking about it made the void form in my chest again.
He is supposed to be my blood brother? ...Are they all like that?
Something heavy landed on my bed. My heart fluttered.
Oh, Gaol.... I thought. Please, not anymore. Of all the many things I didn't know about the heavy object on my bed, there was one thing I did know—that it couldn't possible be good. Did someone throw something at me? Did they just walk over and set it on my bed? Why won't they just leave me alone?
“Um, hey.”
I jolted. The fluttering of my heart escalated to something more akin to a seizure. Oh Gaol, it's a person! It's another one of them. But...what do I do? Should I look up? Do I say anything? What if he does something to me while my head's down? It might be one of the boys from earlier.... But, I guess whoever just spoke didn't really sound like hi-
“-Hey, you awake...? You were just crying a few minutes ago; there's no way you're already asleep, yeah?”
Oh Gaol.... Why can't they just leave me alone....
“Oh, um.... If you're scared, you don't have to be. I'm not like those other guys, yeah? They're real jerks, but I'm not like that. I promise I'll be nicer.”
I swallowed again. Okay, that's... a good start. But that other kid lied too, didn't he? This might be a lie too... I took a deep breath. Then again, I don't have much of a choice, do I?
I turned sideways, removing my face from my the barricade I'd formed with my arms. Despite the gross smell and humid atmosphere, the first inhalation of fresh air was like a cool breeze on a hot day. I looked at the source of the words, at the weight toward the foot of my bed, with squinted eyes.
“Hey.” He said to me, his excited expression slowly coming into focus.
“Oh,  u-um, hi....” The first thing I noticed about him was the fur.
He isn't Fair.... He's a Fen, like me.
“So my name's Joseph. What was your name again? 'Lee-oh-ni-dus,' yeah?”
I cringed, hoping he kept his comments about my name to himself. “Yeah.”
“Ooooo, that's a cool name, yeah? Never heard anything like that before.”
Okay, I thought, maybe a few comments wouldn't be so bad.
He continued. “So, I couldn't help but notice.... You're a feline, yeah?” The edges of his lips quivered a bit, like he wanted to smile and was holding it back. I could here the smiling in his tone, though.
I nodded. “Uh huh. You're a feline, too.”
“Oh, definitely! I'm definitely a feline. Yep, tail and everything!” His tail swung over his waist and it fell into his hands. He was smiling now, and I had to stifle the urge to smile back.
I leaned forward into a more comfortable position and crossed my legs. Across the room I could see the small group of kids from earlier staring at me, all except the tall one who'd tried to get Blon to calm down. I looked down at my lap and--apparently--made a face obvious enough for Joseph to immediately realize. He looked in the direction I'd been looking, and then turned back to face me, no change in his expression.
“Don't let'em get to you, yeah? They're just.... They're just a bunch of cat-hating jerks, yeah? Even when they're not hating felines, they're being jerks, but they're usually hating felines, so... Something to watch out for, yeah?” His foot started to tap restlessly on the ground, my bed shaking along with it.
“Um, i-is.... Is everyone here like that?”
“Naaaaaah. I mean, there are some real jerks around here. Especially to felines, yeah? But you—hey, hey, don't make that face, really!--you don't have to worry about that! You've got me as a friend, yeah? And I'm cool with everybody here, yeah? So you got nothing to worry about, yeah?”
“O-Oh! So then we're... friends?”
“Yeah!” He leaned forward and the word practically exploded from his mouth (along with a small amount of spit...). “So you've got nothing to worry about. Cause we're friends, yeah? And friends watch out for each other. And us felines, yeah? We gotta watch for each other, too. Just like friends do... yeah?”
The last 'yeah' came after a small pause, as if he couldn't stand to leave that particular chain of thoughts without personal confirmation.
“Oh, okay,” I smiled. “I'm really happy that you're... nicer than the others. I guess not everybody here is a jerk-”
“-They're definitely not all jerks, yeah? There are some nice guys here. Like Scott, yeah? Scott's really nice to me sometimes, and he teaches me a lot of cool stuff. He is probably the smartest person here, yeah? Like he teaches me all sorts of cool stuff, yeah? Craziest stuff you could imagine! He talks about life a lot and gives me advice—oh, I almost forgot to ask, how old are you, Leonidus?”
My mouth hung open for a few moments, poised to respond, my mind struggling to discern the connection between his question and the previous topic. His hands wrung together every few moments, and when he wasn't wringing them, he was picking away at his claws, which were ground down to his fingers.
“It's... I'm, uh, twelve years old.”
“Oh, you're twelve, yeah? Yeah, I'm fifteen. I think twelve makes you the youngest one here, yeah? Oh wait, yeah, no, you're the youngest. Yeah. So how'd you get here? What's your story? Parents die in some horrible accident? A lot of kids here had their parents die—some in accidents, but most of them died in the war. So how'd your parents die?”
“Um... I....” I took a moment to process the flurry of words. He kept his eyes on me, half-smiling, leaning in a bit further, my hesitation seeming to make him physically uncomfortable. “I... well... she....”
Joseph must have seen the look of distress that had slipped its way onto my face, because I saw the happiness in his expression melt away like snow tossed in a fire. What took the cheer's place was an amalgamation of emotions, including, but not limited to sadness, regret, and even some mild panic.
“O-oh, I-I didn't, heh, I didn't... mean to, to offend you or anything, y-yeah? I just... I....” He seemed on the brink of tears.
“Oh, no, it's-”
“-I just, I-I pr-probably should have s-s-said it a little... better... yeah? I just... I.....”
“No, no! It's okay! Really...! It's fine. I'm not bothered. I, uh, appreciate you asking.”
“A-Are you sure? Cause I r-really didn't mean to-”
“-Really. I promise.”
We sat in silence. He looked away from me, and it wasn't until I saw his body begin to relax that I realized how tense he'd gotten. I also noticed that the bed (and his leg) had stopped shaking for the first time since he'd sat down.
“So, you still wanna know what happened?” I offered.
“Oh, yeah, for sure. If you're okay with telling me, yeah?” Joseph seemed surprisingly calmed compared to just a few moments ago. He wasn't speaking as quickly anymore and his hands had stopped shifting around.
“Yeah, I can tell you.... The truth is that I never met my dad. Mom raised me, but... she was really sick. She wasn't sick the whole time or anything, but she got sick toward... the, uh, end, and after she died I... got picked up a few days later.”
“...A few days later? What were you doing until then?”
“I was still living at home.”
“They didn't just leave you there, yeah...? Like you were in a town or the government helped you, yeah?” He tipped his chin toward me considerately. “Like they got you out soon, right? Or the uh... well, you know....”
“Nobody knew about it for awhile.”
The resulting silence was the first awkward silence we'd shared yet. Joseph pulled away a bit, looking as if the implications of my words were finally settling in.
“So you....” His face twitched a bit, like he were going to grimace, but stopped halfway.
I stared down at my crossed legs, half-depressed, half-confused, as I wasn't sure how to feel about making an orphan who'd probably heard a long list of horror stories cringe that way.
“Hmm, I never actually met my mom, yeah?” Joseph suddenly continued. “I knew my dad, though. I didn't like him much, though.”
“How come?”
“Cause he didn't like me much, yeah?”
“Oh,” I frowned, finding the idea of a parent disliking their own child new and remarkably upsetting. “What... happened to him?”
“Dead.” Joseph said the word as if his father's death had meant little to him. Like it were as common as a bad storm.
“Hey,” he suddenly continued, “you wanna see somethin' cool?”
I looked back at him, not sure how to answer, and desperately praying that he'd changed the topic.

“Um, h-hey, Joseph, um...” I stopped to remove a thorny bush from the sleeve of my robe. “...Where are we going?” I looked at the plant with disdain before directing my gaze toward Joseph, who was further away from me than I'd have liked.
“Trust me. You're gonna love it, yeah?”
“Yeah, I... I believe you and all, but that doesn't really answer the question... and it's just, we're getting kinda... Ugh!” I narrowly dodged a thin branch that protruded directly into the path, aimed right at my eye. “We're getting kinda deep in here. You, uh... you do know how to get back, right?”
“Pfft, of course. I've been out here billions of times, yeah?”
“B-Billions, huh?”
“Billions.” He said with finality.
I bet you can't even count to a billion.... I thought sarcastically, looking down at the thin path of gray, sandy dirt. He's definitely walked it quite a few times, though. Otherwise it wouldn't be worn down like this.... I wonder what could be worth walking such a long path so many times?
It was odd, though. There was a lot of stuff in the way for a path that had been tread 'billions of times'--or at least enough times to wear the grass down to sand. Bushes, branches, thorns, and broken, untrod branches littered ground, many of them covered in vines and hidden in the various growths, ripe to be tripped upon. Why had none of it been broken, moved, or crushed?
“Um, Joseph?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we almost there...? We're really, really, deep....” Whenever I made the mistake of looking away from his back, I found myself suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of space around me. The forest was dense, but somehow, I could still see deep into it, into strange groves and dismal crevices no doubt harboring all sorts of decrepit life. “H-Hey! Wait! Don't leave me!”
“Hey, don't worry about it, yeah?” He swung himself onto the side of a felled tree long enough for me to catch up, keeping his eyes aimed forward the entire time. “You trust me, don't' cha'?”
“Um, well, I-”
“-Perfect! Really, you're gonna love this place, Leonidus! It's so... perfect, yeah? I go here whenever I just have to get away from everything and from everyone and for... well, you'll see when we get there. You know,” he paused for a moment to dodge a particularly intrusive branch. “I've never showed this place to anyone. It's totally private, so we don't have to worry about anyone interrupting us out here.”
I swallowed.
Totally private...? I thought. He's never showed anyone? And he's taking me there... to this place... out in the middle of the woods... on my first day here...? And he mentioned it immediately after casually telling me his father is dead.
My blood ran cold.
Am I gonna die?
After what seemed like an endless, perilous journey, a clearing appeared, and I noticed Joseph suddenly moving much quicker.
Why did I agree to this? I thought, sweat coating my brow. I barely know this person. I've only talked to him one time. I just... What was I supposed to say?
Joseph stopped ahead of me, facing the clearing, his hands on his hips.
I stood next to him and looked out into it.
“So?” He remarked, as if we were standing in front of his livelihood.
I looked up at him inquisitively, and then back toward the clearing. Compared to most of the woods we'd traversed it was... well, clear. Fairly wide, most of it covered in vines and leaves, with a large, circular spot of dirt in the center. There was a large tree trunk lying on the ground as well, a small groove in it about the size of a butt.
“Is this it?”
He turned to look at me, bewildered. “Wh-...Whatta you mean?”
“You made me walk all this way and... it's just an open space?”
“W-we-well, it's not, heh, it's not... just an open space... yeah?” His tone sounded pleading, and his expression turned similar to that snow-into-fire, happiness-melting-away look from earlier. “And, and, I know it's a far walk, but... but that's why it's good for being alone, y-yeah?” His gaze turned down toward his feet.
“Oh, I-I didn't mean it like that! It's just, I didn't expect... I... I don't know what I expected, just something... different. But that doesn't mean I don't like it!” My words managed to elicit a downtrodden, sideways glance. “Yeah, it's really peaceful, and quiet, and nice out here. And after what happened earlier, I think that's really great.”
“...Yeah? You... you really think so?”
“Yep. I really do.”
Watching his shattered expression contort into smile made the entire walk worth it.
“Okay, then, perfect! Lemme show you around, yeah?” He nearly hopped from spot to spot as he led me around the clearing, which turned out to be surprisingly nuanced.
At the end closest to us, there was the felled tree. The butt sized groove had been a seat, just as I'd suspected, one that Joseph graciously offered up to me when and if we came back out here. Toward the back was a small cliff that dropped about three feet down and led into a flurry of vines and tall weeds. He called this area 'the Pit,' and according to him, it was where he went to the bathroom.
Toward the center was the large, circular patch of dirt, surrounded on all sides by thick leaves. A small bit of the circle was misshapen and led to a particularly big tree. An oval of bark had been removed from the front of the trunk; the edges of it were uneven and the wood beneath looked chipped and deeply scratched.
“I call this the Circle.” He said, beaming with pride. “This is kinda the best part.”
“Oh, yeah, it's... great. But, uh, what's it for?”
“Oh! Nothing much, yeah? This is just where I train for the  world championships. No big deal!”
“...World Championships? What are those?”
“Oh? You've never heard of the world championships? They're awesome, yeah? There's this, super duper big arena in Vosstayne where the greatest fighters on earth all get together and duke it out for a grand prize! It's the most amazing, incredible thing ever. And all the big shots of the arena are super rich and famous and everybody loves them and I'm gonna be one of them one day. I promise you that! So I come out here and practice everyday—every single day I can, even when it's raining! I'm gonna get out of West-End and head there when I'm old and good enough and I'll be the best fighter the arena has ever seen!”
“Wooooooow!” I cooed. “That's so cool!”
“Isn't it?” He asked, grinning. “It is cool, isn't it?”
“It is so cool! I didn't know you were trying to do something like that! Does that mean you're gonna be rich some day?”
“Yep, it totally does. But I'm not even in it for the money, yeah?”
“You're not...? Then how come you're doing it?”
“Heh, you've got a lot to learn, Leonidus!” He put his hands on his hips and grinned at me. “I do it because I love it, yeah?—Oh, and also because I want to be super famous!”
“You want to be famous...? Wow, that would be... I can't even imagine it!”
“Yep! I practice everyday for it! I bet I practice harder than just about anybody else.”
“Than anybody...?” I asked with wide eyes.
“Than anybody.”
“Wow.... So what do you do in the arena? Do you just fight or are there challenges?”
“I've heard they sometimes do special events and stuff, yeah? But it's mostly fighting. It's just you versus your opponent, yeah? Battle 'till the end.”
“'Till... the end?” I frowned.
“Heh, I-I didn't mean... the end end. But until somebody gets knocked out. People don't usually die in the arena. There aren't any weapons or anything like that, yeah?”
“I hope not! I would hate it if you went there and ended up... you know....”
“Huh?” He looked back at me, dumbfounded. “You'd hate it if I ended up what?”
“Uh, you know... dead.”
He stared back at me with no discernible emotion on his face, but his eyebrows were pursed a bit, as if he were in deep focus. I couldn't tell if he was staring at me, or just staring in my direction and in deep thought.
“A-Anyway, to be honest with you, I'm a little jealous....” I went on.
“Hm?” He led me toward the felled tree.
“It's just... you have this really cool dream and this big plan for the future and you're gonna be rich and famous and stuff. I don't have anything like that.”
“You don't know what you want to do when you grow up?” He sat me down on the groove in the trunk and took a seat next to me on the bark.
“No, I don't really have any idea. All I know is I wanna be successful, and rich too. And... there's someone I'd like to find, too.”
“You wanna find someone?” He laughed. “You're just a little kid, yeah? Who could you wanna find?”
“Um, well,” My cheeks turned warm as I struggled to find the right chain of words. “There was a... a woman who brought me here. Mrs. Shire. It's just, she was really nice to me, and, she told me I could see her again.”
His lips curled up into a taut smile. “Oh really?”
“Uh huh. Right before she left she said we could see each other again.”
“And you said she is the one who brought you to West-End?”
“Uh huh.”
“Hehehehe.”
“Wh-... What is it?” I stammered.
“Heh, is she pretty?”
“I-I-wha... I don't... I don't know!”
“It's okay if she is, yeah? You can tell me if you have a crush on her.”
“B-B-But...! I never said that I-I... I don't...!”
“Ha ha ha!”
I frowned. “I don't have a crush on her!”
“Are you sure?” He replied. “Sounds like you're smitten.”
“...What's smitten?” I asked.
“Means you're in love.” He did a hugging and kissing motion, as if there were a woman in his arms.
“No! It's nothing like that! It's just... She was just really nice and... and I wanted to see her again.”
“Heheheh, it's fine, I'm just teasing you. You can love whoever you want, Leonidus.”
I frowned harder and crossed my arms. “Stop making fun of me.”
“Heh.”
We sat in silence for a few moments before he revived the topic.
“So you said you wanted to be successful, yeah? But you don't know what you wanna be successful in?”
“...No. I don't. I'm not even sure what... I could do. I guess it would be nice to help people if I could. But, I kinda wanna be rich, too, and I'm not sure if I can do both.”
“Ehhh,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Money is okay, yeah? I don't know if.... I don't know if you should make it your goal, though. Money ruins people. Makes 'em evil, and it makes 'em do evil stuff to keep it. Maybe you should just stick with helping people, yeah?”
“Money is evil...?”
“Yeah, I learned that from Scott. He talks about money a lot, and about the class system and about how it ruins people. He's really smart, yeah?”
“He sounds like it.”
“Yeah, he's a real genius, yeah? I swear if anyone is gonna make it out of this Perdition, it'll be him.”
“Huh?” I looked up at him. “Whatta you mean? ...Perdition?”
He looked down at his feet, the smile on his face melting away. Then, suddenly, his eyes widened and he looked over at me.
“Hey, you wanna see somethin' cool?”
“Something cool?”
“Yeah, yeah, something really awesome, yeah?”
I regarded him with some awe. He had gone from happy, to sad, to excited all within a span of ten seconds.
“I dunno.... I do, but last time I said yes we ended up like a hundred miles in the woods....”
He furled his brow “We're not a hundred miles in the woods.... Maybe you just need to get out more.” He pouted somewhat comically and turned away.
I giggled, and he looked back pleased.
“So-you-wanna-see-it?” He leaned in, half-smiling, half-grinning.
“Okay, okay,” I said, pulling away. “I'll take a look. As long as it doesn't involve a lot of walking.”
“You're gonna love it and it doesn't require any walking!” He got to his feet and practically skipped to the dirt circle in the center.
He extended his leg and leaned forward, resting a hand on his knee and reaching for his toes. He did the same thing with his other leg, then hopped up and down for a few seconds. After a few more minor warm-up exercises, he turned away and faced the tree with the oval of torn-away bark.
“Ready?” He called out.
“Yep!”
Joseph spread his legs and pointed his body toward the tree. In the next motion, he blasted toward the tree, taking full length, full speed strides in it's direction. Before I had time to gasp, he reached the trunk, placed one foot on the bottom of the oval, pushed himself up high enough to put his other foot on the top of the oval, and then arched back.
He kicked off with enough force to send this body flying backward in a flip. The landing involved a slight stumble a second after his feet hit the ground, but otherwise, he'd done it perfectly.
“Sorry. I guess I wasn't warmed up enough.”
“Whoa!” I jumped up off the tree trunk and my jaw dropped. “You just did a flip!”
“Yeah, I didn't stick it, though, yeah?”
“That was amazing! How did you.... Who taught you to....”I looked back and forth between Joseph and the tree in utter confusion. He looked back at me slightly bewildered, but I saw his tail flicking around in an undeniably excited way.
“You really liked it?”
“That was so cooooool! I didn't even... I didn't think anyone could even... do that. I've never seen that in my entire life!”
“Heheheh, I saw some older kid do it when I first got here. But he wasn't as good at it as I am, yeah?” He grinned. “I can do some other stuff, too! It... it's not as cool as the backflip, but you might like some of it, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” I beamed. “Lemme see another trick!”
Joseph's tail whipped in a wide motion and he smiled back at me.
We spent another few hours in the woods before heading back. Walking back into West-End yielded a lower population of kids than there had been in the morning—which I had no problem with whatsoever. There were some stares and even some hushed whispers as we walked in, but beyond a few curious glances at the new kid, it wasn't as bad as I expected, and nobody openly harassed me this time. It didn't seem like the bullies from earlier were there either.
I was worried about sleeping that night. In a room filled with kids I didn't know. In the dark with uncovered windows next to a bunch of woods. With nobody to go to if I got scared or had a nightmare.
But it was immensely relieving to know Joseph was across the room. Even if I had no plans of crawling up next to him and falling asleep like I had with my mom, it was nice to be able to say the choice existed, to know there was a warm body somewhere in the vicinity who actually seemed to care about me.
I wonder what tomorrow is gonna be like.... I sure am hungry.... Wow, Joseph is so cool and nice! I'm so lucky to have someone like that be friends with me! I bet he'll be able to keep me safe.... It's really dark in here, but, I'm not that scared for some reason. Maybe I'm getting braver...? Wow. I'm really hungry.
My thoughts went in circles like this for awhile, until I finally plunged into the darkness of sleep.

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Inkbunny

A Tale of Two Tails, 1/5 of Vol.1

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