Imperfection
A fic by Heterica
It was a cold wintry night upon the clans, and as such shivered the trees that had thrived in the greenleaf. The twolegs were all nested, only going out in their monsters to fetch prey.
A mother stood in the moonlight, shivering. The moon was full. Her kit had been born that night, at moonhigh. She was banished, for her only kit's disfigurement. Of course, not specifically for that, but her mate, horrified at it, claimed she had killed the rest and mangled that one.
And so she stood tall among the bare birch and lush juniper that night dreaming such dreams that StarClan had sent.
And in such dreams, a voice said, "Your child is not cursed, but blessed. He was born close to this world and yours. He is imperfect in both, and it is in this imperfection he is made perfect."
The mother was indeed shaken, but she dared not think of it. Instead, she brought up her kit as normal, thinking of him as her only chance.
And it so happened, as he approached the age of apprenticeship that his mother did become ill, and within two passings of the full moon was dead. Perhaps if he had not been devastated by such loss, he would have gone a different path, a path of a hardened rogue and not of the path he did follow.
He then mourned her, bringing fresh kill to her grave for until the day of the full moon, upon which, he saw a most wondrous sight. There, in the leafy brush, sat his mother, in the moonlight.
"My son", she said, "Death has separated us, but we are never truly separate. For you see, you were born gifted. What some see as your imperfection, the black night in your eyes, the red lines in your fur, are your connection, to us."
He was confused. Having never been around any other cat in his life, he wondered why he would be considered imperfect.
"But mother", he asked, "why should I be considered imperfect because of this? Am I not as lovely as others?"
"As I see it, indeed, however, your state reminds some of the inevitable damnation arriving at an unknown time; the finality of demise.", she replied.
As tears of weeping rolled down his beige muzzle, he replied, "Why then, am I alive yet? Why has StarClan not taken me? Am I merely an amusement for the heavenly cats among the stars?"
"Nay, my kit, do not fret. StarClan has use for you yet. For in your imperfection, you are made perfect. For you see beyond the face, you look into the heart. You do not see simile and illusion, indeed, you see what is. And yet, you feel love for what is, and so, you are not like cats above or cats below, you are imperfect to us, but indeed in your imperfection you are perfect. For the epiphany of demise that elders and slain heroes have vision of in their terminal breaths is with you always.", she long-windedly remarked.
The youngling then replied, "But mother, even if I were to venture unto the other cats and be this, I could not call myself 'son' or 'kit' as you have called me so; I must be named.", he retorted.
"My son, you have a name, but you must look for it. Look within yourself; for you are more worthy than I to name you for the rest of your life.", she purred.
The cat thought for about a minute, but it was what seemed for a lifetime. He had all sorts of dreadful thoughts about what he would be called at the Clans, and hid himself in his paws. All of a sudden, out of the darkness came a breeze of fresh gale, that replaced itself with an Owl, of wisdom and age. And he looked into the owl and the owl into he, and realized he had found his name.
"My name is Owl.", he replied.
"Truly, my son it is.", his mother replied as she dissipated into morning fog.
And so the young one instated his journey and thus this story on that day, and thus was born the Legend of Owl.
And our hero continued past the Falls of Firedawn and the Mount of Little Badger and found himself among a woods that somehow he vaguely recognized from time long past.
And it did happens that a patrol was among this section of this wood, and when they first saw him, they saw from the back, so at first, not being of any clan scent, they asked if he was lost.
He turned around. Looks of sympathy turned to utter horror. And Owl realized his mother was right. He was seen as ugly by them. He could see into their souls and see fear, but in one, the leader, guilt.
"We demand to know who you are.", the leader asked.
"Based on your thoughts, one whom you dread. My name is Owl.", he replied.
"You claim to know my thoughts, but do you know this: who is my mate?", he asked, obviously toying with the child.
"Your emotions say it is one called 'Nightfang', but your heart, which I can see, tells me…", he started as he gasped.
"The one you love is my mother, who is deceased. She told me of you, how you abandoned her. Such anger, such fear, why?", he asked.
"YOU LIE YOU IMPETUOUS BASTARD.", he said as he hit Owl with his paw, claws unsheathed.
"I wish I did lie, for if I did, perhaps you would not feel guilty of my birth.", Owl calmly replied.
"How am I feeling so calm?", Owl thought to himself, "He abandoned me and my mother, and now he has hit me. And yet, I feel so compelled to love all of these perfect ones, though I am imperfect."
"Enough", said a female, "The boy is right."
"You lie, you fox.", the tom muttered.
"I do not lie. I remember your kit, born as this one looks, whom you threw your kind mate out with. Just because you are the leader's son does not mean you are right. Besides, I may be a fox, but you're a rabbit, sleeping with as many she-cats as you can before you die of one of your many enemies biting your neck clean off.", she replied, her voice glistening with venom.
The other cats muttered in agreement with the she-cat. She flicked her tail at the tom in triumph. He was obviously mad, but kept his silence.
And they went back to camp that night, with Owl as their prisoner. And in camp, the She-Cat asked, "You are stronger and larger than he is, as well as more spry and youthful, why did you not beat him into the Earth, or even kill him?", she asked, "After all you've been through, I mean."
He replied, "Because he has been blessed with the life that StarClan gives, I must love him, for if I love only my friends, do not even evil people do that? Indeed, to love one's debtors is the greatest of loves, for it is the hardest love to love, and the best love to love."
And so it is with you.