A World Ablaze

Dedicated to Blazerkitty129 c;

This story will be a lot different than my typical ones (If you even had read them, mind you). I will try to update this three or four times a week, and as a result, the chapters will be 600-900 words. Do not be affright, as I will try to make a lot of action in this plot! I am also adding a question of the chapter, so you don't have any excuse not to review!

If I use inspiration, I shall put them here:

I'll stop ranting and get on with the story.

I: Outrunning the Past

The world poured out like a stream amongst the cat's eyes. He breathed in the roots of life, and breathed out death's calling. Serenity enveloped and embraced him. His pelt expanded along the night, igniting it with a warm fire that would cats would relax in the winter. A blue luster in his eyes flashed fervently, and it seemed to ascend the mood around.

However, the first memories of Blazekit didn't have the resonance of peace. Instead, he had awoken to a world ablaze.

A fire expanded across the camp, with fluctuating and deadly heat. It severed the area that it came across like looters and gold, and it crippled things that had spent work on day after day. Foulness and destruction was even in its scent. Fear seemed to clutch some cats in silence, and they remained deadlocked and motionless.

Blazekit was saddled put on a cat's back, whom was moving at a ludicrous speed. The result of this was Blazekit being thrown headfirst onto the ground several times, with a bone-shattering impact. The cat once didn't even mind to re-position him, and just left the defenseless kit squealing at the fire for it to not burn him to ashes. He noticed halfway there and persisted as if nothing could happen.

This left him in critical condition for way too long, and StarClan knows why he lived so long.

All kits are born with a fellow feeling inside them stating what to do, as if an instruction booklet of sort. You go to your mother, suck the milk, and be warmed and washed from the after-blood with a few licks. Blazekit, however, was given birth on a fire, literally. His mother took her final breath in smoke and fire, praying that something could come out of the kit.

Ironically, the queen, and her love already selected the name carefully, Blazekit. Both of their names (Cinderfoot and Firefrost, respectively) had to do with fire, and they wanted to give fire as a name. They had drawn paths of having generations based after fire. Sadly, these sunk to the ocean floor.

Then, the courier of the kitten, the last hope this cat ever had of surviving anything, the savior of a life that would evolve and ever-change, noticed it. While he had just jumped across the river in hopes of escaping the fire and catching a break from the weights that weighed him down so far, he noticed a thing that would reshape the hands of time.

He had a facial singe going down the left side of his face, that had melted the skin, and left the eye half-burned. Upon looking at this, Firefrost knew this was beyond repair. He looked down in agony and despair. Cinderfoot was right, he thought with his paws sealing his eyes, this is going to be one special cat.

As a father, his first reaction was to blame the kit. Shout at him, and leave him there. But he had realized he had failed his kit in the first moments of his life. In the grief of losing a loved one (and two unborn kits), fear swept him into his arms and made him think about how much he missed Cinderfoot. But all that was left of her was ashes, and this one cat.

"I want to leave you to the fire to die. I don't want you to be a reminder of my past. If I run fast enough in this world, my past can't catch me." Blazekit had no idea what he was saying, but the tone was insidious and forefront. He wasn't going to forgive himself, and as far as him and his shattered frame of mind was concerned, the cat he was looking at could do that.

He let out a wail of death's calling. He scrambled far and wide, looking for a place to reside in, and looking for any life that could be spotted. He tried to make it, but he couldn't. He would have been swept away on a thin wind.

But then he heard a cat's voice. No recognizable words were in the limited vocabulary, but there was life, and not death.

"Shhh… Its okay…"

He suddenly heard words. Words that had meaning. Yet he knew nothing of the catspeak they used here. He couldn't even contemplate what they meant because of the limited resources of language. Yet things were going to be all right.

Fear unwound from him. He felt life at last, not the death that the world had punished him to.

"You won't die... Come with me…"

And he did so in the starry skies he saw.