"An ancient shall come into being…"
~Tantomile's Prophecy [Full Version of the Vision is located in Chapter 10 of Strange One]
The sounds of the human fire brigade pierced the sky, just as the heavens opened and loosed a torrent of rain. Alonzo stared at what was left of the yard, his eyes filled with sorrow at the sight of his beloved home, which was now little more than ash.
"We will rebuild," Munkustrap assured him, giving his younger brother a comforting pat on the shoulder.
Alonzo nodded, although his heart was still filled with despair. They could rebuild, but nothing could undo the horror of that morning—the moment he saw Cassandra's lifeless form sprawled across the field of war.
"I would like to bury her near the old oak," Alonzo spoke. He didn't mention the dark queen by name, but Munkustrap knew whom he was referring to.
"I can't allow it," Munku said quietly, his brow hardening into a firm line. "That section is reserved for the burial of Jellicles."
"She was a Jellicle," Alonzo said softly.
"She was a traitor," Munku reminded him. "And we have no place to bury traitors. Take her body to the edge of the yard and dump it. She will receive no burial rites."
"I can't just let her rot in the ditch," Alonzo replied, although his voice still did not register above a whisper.
"She doesn't deserve proper burial," Munku said sternly, turning away as if his word settled the matter.
Alonzo's eyes narrowed angrily. He wouldn't toss her aside, like some dirty Pollicle. No matter how much ill-will had passed between them, Alonzo could not allow her to be treated so dishonorably, even if she was dead.
Munkustrap gave an angry sigh as he moved through the yard, silently assessing the damage of the flames. Sections of the yard had been reduced to ash, but there was still plenty to rebuild from.
Still, many cats were missing—several had run into the woods, seeking shelter from the fire. Others had disappeared into the streets of London, presumably never to be heard of again.
Demeter was among the missing—as well as the kits. Munkustrap felt a prick of fear as he considered the loss of his family, but something deeper was gnawing at his mind. Eventually, Demeter would learn of Bombalurina's death—it wouldn't take her long to realize that he was responsible. He had to find a way to explain this.
He would simply tell her what he had told Alonzo—Cass and Bomba charged, he merely defended himself. It was a casualty of war. She would understand.
Of course, he had to find his mate first.
"Plato!" He called out. The young tom appeared. Munkustrap looked toward the dark and foreboding forest. "Organize the remaining Jellicles into search parties. Then go into the woods and find those who fled during the fire."
Plato gave a curt nod and rushed off to find the others.
"What happened to you?" Jellylorum's voice was filled with concern.
"It's nothing," Roary shrugged it off. Jellylorum quickly took Roary's head in her paws, turning it to inspect a deep red gash just below his eye.
"A centimeter to the right and you'd be the next Growltiger." The calico queen referred to the infamous one-eyed Terror of the Thames.
Roary chuckled at the comment, "You've got quite a scar yourself."
He traced the claw marks that ran up her side, across her ribcage. Jellylorum gave a small shriek and jumped back, blushing profusely.
"Ticklish, are we?" Roary arched his eyebrow playfully.
"I-I'm just not used to being touched." Jellylorum instantly cringed at her own words. "I didn't mean it the way it sounds."
"I know," Roary gave a small smile. He added softly, "But they're both true."
Again, Jellylorum's cheeks were stained a blood red. She flipped her whiskers carelessly, as if warding off the conversation. "That doesn't matter. We've got to find the others."
"That would require going back to the yard," Roary gave a grimace. "I don't really fancy that idea."
Jellylorum gave the tom a light cuff on the head. In truth, she shared his sentiments, but her sense of duty would not allow her to run away. She had a family to protect—that is, if they survived the fire.
"C'mon," she moved through the darkened street, carefully avoiding the puddles left by the rain. She and Roary had darted into the alleyway several hours earlier to hide from the flames and the downpour. "We've been gone long enough as it is."
The calico queen easily found her way back to the yard—even if her memory had failed, the smell of smoke was easy to follow.
Plato was calling roll when they arrived. The young tom's face split into a smile, "Ah, Jellylorum and Roary Huffersnuff. Good to see you're still alive!"
"Wish I could say the same," Roary muttered under his breath. Jellylorum heard the remark and gave him a sharp jab in the ribs to silence the wayward tom.
"Haven't you done enough fighting today?" She hissed. Roary merely gave a lopsided grin, but he remained quiet.
"Now," Plato returned to his roll. Apparently he had not heard Roary's comment. "There are fifteen Jellicles still unaccounted for."
Jellylorum scanned the crowd for her own family. She did not see any of them; she assumed they were among the missing.
"We'll split into three groups," Plato announced. "One group will take to the streets, the other two will search the woods. Meet back here at nightfall."
Everyone shuffled around, quickly forming three search parties as Plato had directed.
"Where are we going?" Roary asked, turning to Jellylorum with expectant eyes.
"I am going into the woods. You may go wherever you like," the queen joined Plato's group.
"I go where you go," Roary said simply, following her. Jellylorum rolled her eyes, but she did not comment. Roary's sudden decision to become her best friend was slightly aggravating to the calico queen, although she didn't know why. Perhaps it was because Jellylorum fancied herself as a cat who didn't need friends. Perhaps he was just annoying.
"Let's move out," Plato motioned to his group, leading them into the forest. The trees loomed forebodingly over them as they entered the darkened place. Not a single sound issued from the wood—it had the eerie silence of death, like the moment of stillness before the storm.
Jellylorum gave a shudder and quickly pushed such gloomy thoughts from her mind. Now was not the time to become a pessimist.
Jemima stared down at her paws. They were covered in mud now, but underneath the grime still lay the blood of Bombalurina. She stood beside the stream that ran through the deep wood—she should wash off the grit, but if she did, she would lose the blood. As morbid as it sounded, those deep red stains were the last part of Bombalurina that Jemima had. She wasn't quite ready to let go yet.
She sat there, contemplating the odd twist of fate as she waited for the others. She had been so consumed by her thoughts that she had gotten too far ahead of the group. She could no longer see them, but she knew they'd be there soon. So now she waited, her mind replaying the image of Bombalurina's death over and over again, like a demented carousel.
She wiped away a single tear that slid down her cheek, leaving a mark of mud and blood on her pale face. She knew she looked positively frightful, but she didn't care—right now she felt as pitiful as she looked.
How could her father do such a thing? He was a protector, not a destroyer—how could he take a life so easily? Jemima knew that it was war; it was either her father or Bombalurina—someone had to die. But a small part of her wondered, Would I be this sad if Father had died instead?
Jemima was instantly ashamed of her last thought—how could she think such a terrible thing? It was almost as bad as what her father did.
What her father did. A single action that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Long after the stains disappeared from her paws, the marks left on her soul would remain, as painfully fresh as the day she received them. Nothing could ever erase the horror she had witnessed. As much as she had loved her father, she now saw him as something completely different—a murderer. A monster.
Alonzo waited patiently until the search teams left; then he took a spoon and went to the old oak tree. He would bury Cass before Munku returned. He didn't care if the Jellicle Leader found out—by then it would be too late. Munkustrap would certainly not dig up a body, even if it did belong to a traitor. No one in the Tribe would stand for such sacrilege, and despite his power, Munkustrap was still smart enough not to directly confront the entire Tribe.
The ground was filled with rocks and Alonzo had to fight for every inch, but it was worth it. He wasn't there to protect Cassandra when he should have been; this could count as some small penance towards his crime of abandoning her. He couldn't ease the nagging feeling that all of this was his fault. After all, if he hadn't shut her out completely, she never would have left the tribe. Then she never would have joined the rebels and she most certainly would not have died in battle. It was all so horrific—how could one little argument have such devastating effects?
"Where's Jemima?" Demeter asked, looking around fearfully.
"She's not far ahead of us," Teathrice nodded in the general direction, taking a moment to quickly guide one of the kits back onto the trail.
"I can't see her," Demeter began to walk a little faster. "I don't like her being out of my sight."
"Calm down," Asparagus spoke soothingly. "Jemima's a smart kit. She won't get too far."
"I hear water," Victoria interrupted, her large ears swiveling towards the sound. She doubled her pace, following the trail and practically bounding into Jemima. She shouted back happily to the others, her loud voice having a jarring effect upon the small queen, "I found her!"
"Finally," Asparagus gave a sigh of relief when he saw the stream. They had been traveling for what seemed like hours now, goaded ever onward by Demeter's constant urging.
"Let's stop and drink," he announced, taking a moment to enjoy the cool water.
Teathrice dutifully herded the three youngest kits in front of her, allowing them to drink. Demeter merely sat beside her, staring ahead into the bleak landscape of trees.
"My feet are aching," Victoria said softly, gingerly lowering her tired paws into the stream. She gave a small sigh of relief, arching her back to stretch her worn muscles.
"Perhaps we should turn back," Asparagus suggested, turning to glance at the path behind them. "The others are probably looking for us."
"If they survived the fire," Teathrice said, taking Deuteronomus and holding him close.
Asparagus frowned at the comment, but he didn't say anything.
"Maybe we should just stay here," Victoria suggested. The thought of walking in any direction did not please her at all. "If there are survivors, then eventually they will find us."
Teathrice and Asparagus nodded in agreement. Both cast wary glances at Demeter, waiting for her opinion. The black and gold queen gave a heavy sigh, "I suppose you're right. We'll stay here tonight."
Victoria gave another audible sigh of relief at the announcement. Jemima stayed a few yards away from the group, as if trying to stay as far away as possible without being completely separated from them. Teathrice noticed this distance and Jemima's unsettling silence, but the grey queen wisely kept her thoughts to herself. She had seen the blood on the young queen's paws—death was an inevitable part of warfare, but it didn't make it any easier.
The grey queen lightly pulled Aleyn to her, enveloping the kit in a comforting hug. She had never had kits and had always regretted not being a mother, but in these days of uncertainty, it suddenly seemed like a blessing. She couldn't imagine the constant worries that ran through Demeter's tired mind.
"Tea!" Aleyn whined, wriggling away from the grey queen's grasp. "You're smothering me!"
"Oh, sorry dearest," Teathrice apologized, smiling softly at the kit's melodramatic nature. Of the three kittens, Aleyn was by far the most outspoken. Deuteronomus had developed the quiet, calm nature of his grandfather, and Catrice was painfully shy.
"Mama," Catrice whispered, sidling up to Demeter. "I'm hungry."
"I'll find something," Asparagus volunteered.
"I'll go with you," Teathrice volunteered. Asparagus looked at her as if she'd grown a second head.
"You?" He arched his eyebrow skeptically. "You're a housecat."
"I still know how to catch a field mouse," Teathrice replied haughtily. She brushed past him, "Let's go before it gets dark."
"I'll stay here with the kits," Victoria called after them. She had no intention of using her tired paws any more than she had to.
Aleyn bounded up to the white queen and nestled happily beside her. Deuteronomus moved closer, but still kept a respectful distance.
Demeter nudged Catrice towards Victoria with a heavy sigh. "I'll go check on Jemi."
Catrice scampered quickly over to Aleyn, wrapping her dark tail around herself and turning her wide kitten eyes to Victoria, "How will we get home?"
The fear in the baby's eyes absolutely broke Victoria's heart. She gently pulled the kit into a comforting hug, "Don't worry. Your daddy will find us soon, and then we will be safe."
"I hope he hurries," Catrice replied.
Victoria looked up at the forest. Night was coming soon; already dark shadows were forming in the treetops. "Me, too."
Demeter sat next to her eldest daughter. There was a moment of silence. Finally, the black and gold queen spoke, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really," Jemima whispered, fresh tears forming in her eyes.
Demeter nodded. She gently wrapped a comforting arm around the young queen's shoulder. The familiar warmth and scent of her mother immediately caused Jemima to break down—there was something strong about Demeter's presence, something that told Jemima it was finally OK to cry, to be weak and lean on her mother's strength.
Demeter drew her daughter closer, silently comforting her in a way that only mothers can. Jemima didn't have to tell her what happened; Demeter already knew. She shared her daughter's pain and heartache, and she silently accepted her maternal role as the pillar of strength. She could cry later, when she was alone, when no one needed her to be strong. Right now, her daughter needed her, and that was all that mattered. Everything else was swept aside.
Eventually Jemima's tears subsided. She pulled way lightly, wiping away her tears and leaving more dark streaks on her pale face.
"I don't want to go back," Jemima said quietly, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "There's nothing left but blood and death."
Her voice cracked at the last word as Bombalurina's lifeless and horrified expression flashed across her brain.
Dem's face contorted in sorrow. Quietly, she spoke, gently laying a paw on her daughter's shoulder, "We have to go back, Jemi."
"We don't have to do anything," the young queen's voice filled with steel.
Demeter was shocked by her daughter's statement, "Jemima, what are you saying?"
Jemima simply stared at her mother. After a heavy pause, Demeter spoke again, "Where would we go? What would we do?"
"I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life running from my father," Jemima replied bitterly. "It would still be better than looking him in the eye everyday and remembering what he did."
Demeter ducked her head, "You don't know the whole story, Jemi. We are in the middle of a war—the rules change."
Jemima turned to look at her mother, her young face filled with shock and disgust, "In what world would that ever be acceptable? What good are rules if you throw them off whenever they don't suit your purpose? He swore to protect the Jellicle—he promised never to harm a single cat. And yet…yet he…he…he killed her, Mother. I saw it—he just murdered her, right there in front of everyone! And she just…she just fell. And it was over. Just like that. He killed her."
Jemima's eyes glazed over with horror and sadness as she relived the moment of Bombalurina's death. Demeter reached for her daughter, so desperate to comfort her hurting soul, but something held her back. Bombalurina had been her sister, her greatest friend, her kindred spirit, her comfort in times of sadness and her companion in days of joy. But she still loved Munkustrap, and no matter how fanatical he'd become, Demeter couldn't bring herself to believe that he would ever take a life without justification.
The young queen saw the struggle in Demeter's eyes, and she knew that she could not ask her mother to betray her father. With a heavy sigh of finality, Jemima turned her eyes back to the setting sun, "I'm not going back."
"We have tracks!" Plato called out urgently. The search party quickly gathered around him. He pointed out the markings, "Five adults, three kittens."
"It has to be Demeter," Jellylorum nodded gravely.
"Let's go," Munkustrap pushed his way to the front of the pack, quickly trotting down the path. "Night will fall soon. Then the owls will come."
Everyone shuddered at the thought—they had all heard the horror stories of cats being taken off into the night by the sharp-taloned creatures. It was the worst death one could imagine.
The search party began calling out the names of the missing cats.
"Demeter! Jemima! Victoria!"
"Asparagus, can you hear us?"
"Teathrice! Teathrice!"
Teathrice's ears perked up. She turned to Asparagus, "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Listen."
The faint sound of another cat's voice called out again.
"I think they're looking for us," Teathrice whispered.
"Good."
"Is it?" There was a wave of uncertainty in the grey queen's eyes.
"What do you mean?" Asparagus asked, his expression filling with confusion and concern.
"When we first escaped, I was so frightened," she spoke softly. "But then I thought maybe we were the only ones left, maybe we would have to start over. And…and suddenly I felt relieved."
She turned to him with worried eyes, "Isn't that awful? I mean, how could I wish such a thing? I feel terrible for even thinking it; I don't even know why I told you, I just…I don't know."
Asparagus didn't know what to say. He simply stared sadly at the grey queen. In truth, he knew exactly how she felt—he was actually a bit relieved that he wasn't the only one who'd thought such things.
The voice called again.
"We must get back to the others," Asparagus said quietly.
"Yes," Teathrice nodded, turning back towards the stream. The dejected slump of her slender shoulders sent a stab of pain through Asparagus' soul. For the thousandth time, he wondered how different things would be if Old Deuteronomy was still alive.
Demeter's entire body tensed when she heard the search party calling her name. She turned back to her daughter with fearful eyes, "If you leave, you can never come back. You mustn't ever come back. Promise me."
Jemima suddenly felt the fear rising in her stomach, "Mama, I—"
"Please," Demeter whispered urgently. "Promise that you will run as far away as you can and never look back."
"I'll come back."
"No. You can't," Demeter shook her head vehemently. "It's the only way you'll be safe. Now promise me."
Fresh tears welled up in Jemima's large eyes, but she nodded, "I promise."
Her mother nodded quickly, wrapping her daughter into a hug.
"I love you, more than anything else in this world," she whispered, her voice thick with tears and emotion.
"I know," Jemima said simply. It was true. Her mother was making the ultimate sacrifice by letting her go.
"Be good," Demeter warned in a maternal tone. "If you follow the setting sun, you'll reach the next town within a day or two. You'll be safe there. Find someplace to hide for the night—the owls will be out soon, and it will be too dangerous to travel."
"I will," Jemima nodded, taking in all of her mother's advice. She gave Demeter another hug. "Goodbye, Mama."
"Goodbye."
With that, Jemima dashed off into the woods, running until her sobs would not allow her to run anymore. She realized that she had not told her mother that she loved her, and this made her cry all the more.
Demeter returned to the rest of the group with a downcast expression. Asparagus looked around. "Where's Jemima?"
"Jemima is not coming back," Demeter replied in an emotionless voice. The moment Jemima dashed off into the woods-throwing one last small smile over her shoulder-Demeter had felt a sudden numbness in her soul. Funny, she'd always expected to feel pain whenever her heart broke. Apparently it was past the point of all feeling.
"What do you mean?" Teathrice was immediately concerned.
"She is not coming back," the black and gold queen repeated with a heavy sigh.
Suddenly they understood the meaning behind her words. A sad silence followed.
"Do you think she'll be OK on her own?" Asparagus asked quietly.
"Jemima is very strong," Demeter replied softly. "And very smart. She will do just fine."
The other cats nodded gravely. They knew that she was right—Jemima was a very capable feline. Still, she was so small, and the world was so big. It was a frightening thought.
The search party was closer now, calling their names, "Asparagus! Teathrice! Victoria, can you hear us?"
For a moment, the four adults looked at one another. Did they really want to go back?
It was Victoria who broke the silence, "We're over here!"
She cast an apologetic glance at the others. What choice did they have?
"Daddy!" Aleyn screeched with joy whenever she saw her father. The other two kits pounced on his as well, crying with relief. Teathrice noticed how Demeter's paw shot out instinctively, as if she wanted to pull them away, to shield them from their father, but she quickly withdrew. The grey queen said nothing.
Jellylorum rushed over to envelope her daughter and her son into a hug. "Thank Heaviside you're alive! I was so worried about you!"
Plato was at Victoria's side, gently asking if she was alright and inspecting her weary paws with delicate concern.
Teathrice simply stood there. She had no family, no close friends to rejoice at her survival. She was alone, just as she had always been. She just hadn't noticed how lonely it was until now.
The loft was filled with a heavy, oppressive silence. Tugger had locked himself away in his room the instant they had returned; the rest of the rebels were sitting morosely beside one another in the main room, too devastated to speak and too desolate to grieve alone.
Electra quietly sat beside Mistoffelees, gently placing his paw in hers. He didn't speak, but fresh tears flooded his eyes and he squeezed her paw in silent thanks.
"I can't believe they're gone," Pouncival was the first to speak. His voice cracked, "Cass—just this morning, she told me that she'd buy me a drink afterwards. A-a-and I was so certain that it would happen. I just knew she'd be back here, with us, and we'd all be OK."
Mungojerrie gave a heavy sigh, "They always tell ya to prepare for tha worst in battle, but nuffin' prepares ya for this."
"And Bombalurina," Pouncival whispered her name like a prayer. "I…I just…"
He immediately broke into a fresh onslaught of sobs, crying as if his heart would break.
"I didn't like her," Cetty admitted with a hoarse whisper. "But I never wanted her dead."
For some reason, this simple confession had a therapeutic affect—Cetty and Bombie had been notorious nemeses, and for her to admit such a thing was as close to a compliment as the red queen would ever receive.
Misto did not speak at first. After years of hiding the fact that she was his mother, he still couldn't tell the rest of the group. Still, he felt the need to say something.
"I…" he took a deep breath. "I loved her. She was my mother and I loved her."
Cetty looked around, slightly shocked by this admission-she didn't know that Bombalurina had ever been a mother, and she certainly didn't know that Misto was her kit. The others didn't seem phased. Apparently they knew.
Pouncival suddenly looked around, his eyes wide with fear.
"Where's Rumpleteaser?"
Author's Note: She's baaaack! Has it really been a year since my last update? And TWO since the last "Dark Side" installation? Aiaiaia-bad author! For those who aren't "in the know", I've been busy writing/producing/directing/acting in two new webseries, both of which will air this fall. So all my creative juices have been geared towards screenwriting-however, I have never stopped writing fanfiction; I simply haven't been posting anything...and on another note-since has changed formatting, all of my original spacing for my stories has been screwed up. I will be taking them down and reposting them with new spacing, to preserve the original format. So I am asking that once I do take them down and replace them, please please please re-favorite those that you have on your lists. Not sure if any of my old Chickadees are still out there, but I certainly hope so! ~Mim.