Discalaimer: I don't own the Thundercats; either series. But I do own this fic.
Leading and Following.
Pumyra sat among the books of Mumm-Ra's library. Ever since that last confrontation, she immersed herself in the manuscripts of sorcery, determined to become the best, determined to erase the people who betrayed her, determined to become a servant worthy of her master. She already learned a lot of the most powerful sorcery the universe had to offer. Certainly, she was better than that understudy, Cheetara – if that one was ever taught any real magic at all, of course. Next time her and Master met the traitors, all their power will crumble before them.
She looked at the rune on the page in front of her. Such power. Runes to block weapons, to confuse opponents, to seal doors and mouths. And this rune in front of her…
Pumyra shook her head. There was something strangely familiar about the rune. She was certain she never saw it in her life, but nevertheless, there was this feeling she encountered it somewhere.
"A touch passes, but is never forgotten, young one. Not the touch of power. Nor the touch of death."
Pumyra whirled toward the new voice, loading her wrist crossbow. As she saw who it was, she lowered her hand. Her weapon will do little good against him, even with the new explosive pellets. She searched her memory for a spell that could work. Just before she could open her mouth to use one, the figure in front of her spoke:
"Young. Impatient. Always trying to use violence when in a new situation. Never trying to understand the situation."
"Shut up, old fool!" Pumyra snarled. "I heard of you. Where were you when I lay dying? What were you doing while the city fell? Understanding?" Her voice was mocking. "A lot of help it did to you and you clerics, Jaga!"
The blue ghost in front of her didn't seem slighted in the least by her insults.
"We did all we could. I did all I could." The blue ghost in front of her traced the spines of a few of the books with his fingers. "I fought with all I have. I would have done all I can to get you from under that rock, but, of course, it isn't easy when one is being tortured by Mumm-Ra."
"You knew?" She clenched her fists.
"I would have." He smiled at her, that old man's smile that makes it so hard to be angry. "Do you really think they wouldn't have noticed. Yes, the young king was obsessed, angry, just like you are. He might have missed it. But the ones following him were not. They would have noticed you." Jaga sighed quietly "Normally. But, as it was, only I would have."
"What are you talking about?.." Pumyra raised her hand, ready to cast a spell. Her eyes fell upon the open book. She staggered back, wide eyed.
"No…"
"Why not?" Jaga touched the page. "I told you, this kind of touch is never forgotten. And you remember it."
Pumyra dropped heavily into a chair. She tried to comprehend what the old cleric was saying. To find some way to prove wrong what he was about to say.
"The Tarnhelm rune." The blue ghost continued, sitting down facing her. "Stops people from looking. Stops people from listening. I may have noticed the touch of magic, but few others would have. Mumm-Ra is a good planner. Always understanding what's around him. Never teaching others to do the same. He carved that rune on the rock which was crushing you, expecting someone will pass by and ignore you. All to have a loyal servant. He got one even more loyal than expected."
"Impossible." The girl tried to object. "My master would never…"
Jaga chuckled at that. When Pumyra tried to yell at him, all she met was another smile.
"You have served him for long. You know him. When did you ever see anything he would never do?"
"But he has helped me. He gave my people a place to live…" Pumyra said. "See?"
She put her hand on the crystal ball sitting at the table. Not as good as Mumm-Ra's pool, or the Warstone, but it still showed that which wasn't concealed deliberately.
A town appeared inside the ball. Hundreds of her people; free from the war; walking, sitting, building, living. Everyone rescued from the mines, and more, were safe. And all thanks to the great, merciful Mumm-Ra.
"Perhaps you will tell me it's all an illusion?" Pumyra asked, mockingly. "It won't work. I have visited in person, more than once. My master is not evil."
Jaga didn't say anything to her. Instead, he simply touched the ball, whispering quietly.
The view point descended. Below the town, below the surface, until, finally, it was centered on a strangely familiar object. At a few more manipulations, seven more were shown, one by one. Pumyra stared at the ball, horrified.
"Bombs." Jaga said. "When set off, the entire town will be erased." He looked at the young, tear eyed girl in front of him. "Yes, you saw, you heard… yet, in a way, it was all indeed an illusion."
"What… what would set them off?" Pumyra asked. She had some suspicions, but…
"Any of the Six approaching the town… or your death. As soon as you would have stopped being useful, you would have died along with your people."
Pumyra grabbed her head. It was all too much to take in. A year or so ago, she suffered the destruction of all her ideals. Now she was going through that again. She wanted to shout at Jaga that he's a liar, but couldn't bring herself to. She knew he was right. Now that she looked inside herself, she could feel the tendrils in her heart, going outside the pyramid, all the way to the town.
"I don't know what to do anymore." She looked at the cleric desperately. "Where am I to go? Whom would I follow?"
Jaga shook his head: "You seem to have a very bad luck in following. Perhaps it is time for you to lead instead, young Pumyra."
Pumyra reflected on that for a minute.
"Perhaps you are right. It is certainly time for me to lead my people away from that accursed land." She rose from her chair, starting to consider the best way to hand in her resignation.
Jaga touched her palm, as much as he could in his current form. "It is good to see you choosing your own path, for once, young Pumyra. Good luck."
"Wait, are you leaving already?" She tried to grip his arm, but her fingers just passed through.
"I must. I cannot exist for long outside the Book of Omens. And the longer I remain here, the more likely Mumm-Ra is to detect me. Goodbye."
After Jaga left, Pumyra looked at the bag lying near her. Ever since she saw those kids bring an army in the Forever Bag, she was determined to replicate it. This one was not as good as theirs, but it would serve her needs for now.
Carefully, she pulled out some of the more valuable books and storage drives (yes, she knew the proper names now, after all these months of dealing with the technology), shifting others to make their absence less obvious. She couldn't take them all, but there was also another plan.
A mere couple of minutes after she finished, Mumm-Ra entered the library. Normally, she was awed by him, regardless of the form he took. Now, she looked at the muscular figure towering over her, and could barely hide her contempt.
But she was no stranger to hiding her loyalties.
"Well, my apprentice? How does your study progress?" The sorcerer asked, looking at the table with a smile. "I see you have been busy."
Pumyra was glad she decided to put the book of Runes in her bag. Had he seen that page, he might have suspected something.
"I am doing my best, Master, studying to become apprentice worthy of your light."
"Yes, beloved. A warrior, a healer, a mechanic, now a sorceress… so many professions you have studied. And all of that makes you so much the better servant."
"Everything I have is to serve you." Pumyra knelt, pressing her lips to his gauntlet. "Everything I have is yours."
"And soon, everything else will be mine. And yours. We shall rule together; god and goddess, two more of the Ancient Spirits. Now, listen to my instructions about your next mission." There was no response. "Pumyra?"
He looked down at where she was kneeling, but she wasn't there. And something was wrong.
Before he could understand what it was, a series of explosions knocked him from his feet.
As he stood up, Mumm-Ra surveyed the damage around him. Dozens of Pumyra's explosive pellets detonated inside the bookshelves, all but destroying his priceless library.
"That…" Mumm-Ra tried to choose the proper words to describe his anger. An anger which shifted to complete fury as he looked at his gauntlet once again.
Thieving wasn't a profession she ever mentioned to him. Yet here was the proof, in the form of an empty space where the Techstone used to be.
"THAT!..." Mummra started.
A.N.: Since the ultrasonic language of Mumm-Ra's bat-folk is quite impossible to transcribe, and a translation will push this fic well beyond its current rating, I am forced to end it at this point. I am sorry.