Authors Note: Thus begins the story. But I do want to add a warning to the story: If you don't like slash, please do not read. I do ask to give it a chance, but keep unsavory comments to yourself please. For slash will become aparent later on in chapters. I just warn now. Also I feel I should explain just a little: This chapter is solely for showing Narcian's personality and the awakening of a being inside him. It does get better after this, a bit more...happy in a way I guess you should say.

Now, with all that said, on with the story and I hope you enjoy!!


A sliver of warm buttery sun painted a small yellow rectangle on the floor. A patch of warmth on the cold, cracked concrete. Strewn across the grey were pieces of paper with shapes and swirls. Some pictures recognizable and some possible only the artist could decifer.

He sat in a corner, the ray of light touching just to his left side. The pencil he held made faint scritching noises as the tip glided across the paper he held on his lap; a broken piece of wood his only table. The room was otherwise peaceful, but to Narcian, there was no such silence.

With each step of a feline in the hal, with every breath, whispers were sent swirling in the air. Words that only the owner of the voice heard, at least, that was the reality they lived. Narcian knew how wrong they were, privacy of the mind did not exist to him. Some would say it was a gift but he knew it was a curse.

Narcian is a telepath.

Sighing he looked up and out the window, ears laid back against his skull. As if it might block out the voices that were constantly barraging his head. For a brief second, he watched a swallow fly by. For that brief moment, he hoped, wished. But it was quickly gone. This was his life, his home, his reality. It wouldn't change.

Curling up on his bed he clamped his paws over his ears. Trying to block out the whispers, the voices. But to no avail. Always the thoughts wormed their way into his ears. No barrier could stop it. Every cat who passed and for some distance, thoughts, emotions, words, images. All filtered into his head. It was so hard to ignore. His cell, or 'room' was dark and dreary. Just like the rest of the place. But even what was supposed to be his sanctuary wasn't a blissful silence.

A knock hit the door suddenly and the large white persian known as Angra Mignus was there. He was something of a relief to the telepath because he ws usually working battle plans in a soft whisper and usually at the back of his mind, "Boss says you need some exersize." He informed the magic tom and was soon opening his door and tapping a paw impatiently

Narcian's ears twitched ever so slightly as he slowly got to his paws and made his way to the door. The magical feline was an extreme contrast compared to the others working under the Hidden Paw. He was thin, small, ears, tail and eyes always down. He almost seemed lifeless half the time, just a drone. Of course, he wasn't there for any muscle or fighting reasons. He was there because his visions and ability to read and hear minds made him an important cat to keep around. Though it wasn't a 'gift' as most said in his eyes. A curse that he wished to be rid of. He followed the big Persian. Trying everything to keep himself distracted from the quiet whispers. Keeping himself from delving further into Angra's head.

The Persian led him around the complex the long way, avoiding the lunch rush whether it was for his benefit or Narcian's it was unclear. They finally made it to the running tracks, which were rather iolated and were used mostly to punish recruits. "Ten laps then we can eat so hurry up"

Narcian may not be able to block other thoughts from his head, but he was very good at zoning out his own needs. Silently he nodded and began the laps. After one or two laps, his eyes half closed. All he heard were the thuds his paws made on the floor and the faint whispers from silent persian. But he felt nothing. He didn't waken from this type of daze until his laps were finished. Just a little out of breath he stopped in front of Angra and waited obediantly.

Angra nodded in silent approval, "One more and I'll bring your food." He vanished and the last of the voices with him. There was a wonderful two minutes of silence before the persian returned with two plates of burnt cod and some ruined sushi both stolen from the markets throw-aways.

Once Angra had left the room Narcain sighed, shoulders relaxing. Blissful silence. But of course, it was over far to quickly. Narcian had completed the final lap and was sitting crosslegged, back against the wall and eyes closed. Like always he heard the thoughts before he saw Angra. Opening his eyes he stood and waited. He was never one of many words.

Angra shoved the plate into the telepaths paws and sighed, plopping down hard onto the gorund and eating his food in huge bites. The persian was near silence as it were, no wars were raging so even the tactical planning was at a minimum today. A tiny hummed song took it's place, nothing specific and quite tuneless but it was a pleasant replacement to the constant noise.

Narcian leaned against the wall and slid down to sit again, sighing ever so quietly. Ears twitched and eyes closed as the humming replaced the words. He ate slower than the persian, but not slow enough to be told to hurry up. His tail curled up around his waste.

The Persian reached over and snagged the telepat's last bit of sushi and popped it into his mouth, the humming growing louder as if it were covering up over thoughts, thoughts the persian would rather the telepath not hear.

Narcian set the plate down and rested his head back against the wall. The humming was a bit odd, he wouldn't deny it. A select few knew about his telepathic ability, it wasn't uncommon to hear something strange to cover up the actual thought process. Though the humming was a little different, it was better than words.

The persian ruffled the tom's headfur and jerked a thumb to the track, "Four more laps." HE said in a gruff tone. He hummed loudly again but under it he licked his lips 'damn he looks good when he runs...'

Narcian winced slightly at the touch. That was something that was new...But it also made the humming louder for a moment. Standing he stretched before running. Kicking up the speed a couple notches these few laps, actually running instead of casually jogging.

The persian dropped the humming accidentally just long enough for Narcian to hear his mental wolf-whistle. Angra then returned to cleaning every crumb off the plates.

He stumbled a second, slowing and shaking his head. Blinking rapidly he stopped and looked around. Angra...No, that persian? Had to have been someone nearby...Or his imagination....Luckily he was on his final lap. Finishing he stopped. Uneasily waiting. He wanted to get back to his 'room'. Away from everyone.

The persian was busy starign at patterns he had finger-drawn in the dirt. They looked like plays for the annual rugby game. Damn Angra must be bored.

Narcian tilted his head slightly and blinked. No, couldn't have been Angra. After standing quietly for a little while he spoke for the first time that day. "Is there anything else that I need to complete?" He asked, voice soft and smooth, despite not being used for days on end.

The persian ignored him for a moment until his eyes lifted from his scribblings and he seemed to look over the telepath a bit too slowly before meeting his eyes, the tiny mental whistle sounding again.

Narcian took a surprised and automatic step back, eyes wide. Angra...was....He shook his head. It was difficult to wrap his mind around that fact. Angra had always seemed attracted to queens. Or, at least that was the thought Narcian had. It seemed he was wrong, quite wrong. He shifted his weight uneasily.

Angra brushed the scribbles from the dirt and stood, brushign off his tail and butt. "Two more then we move to pull up and then a nap I think..." The sun was coming in hotly from the few dust coveed windows and even a kitten on sugar would pass out in.

Narcian nodded, still baffled as he turned to continue the laps. He finished the two laps quickly, just wanting to be away from the persian and sort through his own thoughts. Stopping, just a little bit further away this time, he waited to be told what was next.

"20 pullups before you get a break. I have to check the recruits and I'll be back in half an hour." The Persian ruffled out his headfur. "If you finish the pullups do laps until I return.

Despite his thin form, Narcian seemed to do pull-ups allright. Though he preferred running, his leg strength was stronger. Near the end of the pull ups he was out of breath and finding it harder to ignore his sore arms. It was a dull nag in the back of his brain when he finally stopped and headed to start running again since Angra hadn't returned.

It was two hours after the promised time when Angra finally returned. He had the evening meal an hour early and sat down at his usual place to wait. "You can be done for the day. I brought dinner"

Narcian stumbled over to where he had sat down before and leaned against the wall exhausted. Though it hardly showed on his face. What he had heard before, the whistling, he had pushed from his mind as he had concentrated on his tasks. He nodded in gratitude for the food and ate, faster than before and finished quickly and leaned his head back against the wall, taking a deep breath and exhaling softly.

Angra didn't offer an explaination to why he was gone for so long but the two and a half full hours of silence seemed to be a gift from the persian

Narcian sat quietly, waiting. If they were done why wasn't he being led back to his room yet? His tail once again curled around his waste and rested on his lap. Where he absently slowly ran his fingers through the yellow and white fur. His ears relaxed slightly, thanking bast for the silence once more. Closing his eyes his drifted into a light sleep.

Angra scooped up the tom and carried him to his room. Narcian's ears twitched madly as Angra picked him up. He clenched his paws over his ears, waking up quickly. The voice, even if it were just the humming, was so much louder. He sat him on his bed and left.

A shiver ran through him before he was set down on his bed. Shaking his head he sat up and rubbed his temples, trying to ease the migrane. "Physical contact," he muttered under his breath and sighed in aggrivation before lying back down.


Angra tapped softly on his door a few hours later, whent he entire lair was calm and asleep. Without a word the persian strode in and sat beside the thin tom.

Narcian's eyes snapped open when he felt the bed shift. Immediatly he was up and leaning back on his elbows, staring at Angra with wild, startled eyes. When he caught his breath after a moment, his expression became blank once more. "What is it? I have no visions for the master tonight."

Angra closed his eyes and tenderly pressed a finger to the telepath's forehead. The ounds instantly died and only an image of a smiling tiny queen appeared, "Tell me where she is."

Narcian looked confused. The location of a queen? He closed his eyes and thought back through the many visions he had had. None had that specific queen. "I do not know. Who is this little female?"

Angra didn't speak. The persian ust stared at him with meloncholy eyes as if the answer would surely only bring pain.

Narcian tilted his head, ears flicking back and forth. His eyes looked deeply into Angra's. "You care very much for this little one." He said softly. He could put two and two together. "I have not seen her in any of my visions or dreams if that is what you are wondering. She is safe for the time being."

Angra made to pat the telepath on the back but stopped short and returned his paws to his lap. "If you see her you will tell me." It wasn't a request or a question and the tone ensured that if Narcian went against this he would regret it.

Narcian winced as Angra's hand neared him, but relaxed when the persian stopped. His ears laid back even further than usual but he nodded. "I will," he said. Narcian hadn't survived thus long just because he was valuable. He hardly ever, if never, went against orders. From anyone.

Then, it hit like a brick. Narcian shook his head; tired, so tired. There was only one possible explanation, and he knew what it was. What if it was what Angra was looking for? "A..ngra..." He managed in a whispered exhale before he fell into the trance, paw lifted as if to touch the persians arm. His eyes glazed over, giving the normal gold a filmy white gloss.

Images faded in and out; past, present, future. It was hard to fit the puzzle together a lot of the time. But finally it settled. After four minutes he gasped and coughed, lungs filling with air, and his lifted paw went to his eyes. Blinking rapidly he collapsed onto his bed, paws shaking.

"I..I saw a harbor." He said once his breathing evened. "A green boat, rusted and unused. It appeared to have been such for quite some time. The only thing left of its name was a large letter R in white paint. The little queenkit you seek is there."

Angra listened intently but was gone before Narcian had finished speaking. He vanished down the hall. By sun up he was in the South Harbor scouting out every boat and deck for a large R and a lot of rust.

Narcian shook his head and rolled over onto his side, falling back into an exhausted sleep.


The next day he was sitting in a corner with some paper and a broken pencil. Sketches lined many of the pieces. Doodles, some of which seemed only the telepath could interpret.

There was a lot of mental sound as henchtoms rushed pass his room, muttering urgently outloud as well. Angra roared and clawed at a few of his better cadets. He couldn't stand to be touched and demanded from the nearest tom they retrieve Narcian and leave.

Narcian shuddered and clenched his ears as the sounds grew so loud. What had happened? Standing he waited, knowing he was going to be summoned. He went without a word or struggle and stood before Angra. He waited, listening to the thoughts around him. Wincing every now and then. "What need do you have of me?" His voice ever so soft.

The others left as they were ordered and soon the only sound was a desperate and tortured sound from the persian's mind. He was curled up in the far corner of the room, silent outwardly.

Narcian winced and brought a paw to his forhead, claws digging into his scalp slightly. There were no words in Angra's mind. None that he could make out for that matter. It was all emotion. Solid, waves of it. "Sir..." He croaked out, taking a slow, wobbily step forward. It was like walking against a strong current, each wave beating against his skull. A migrane was setting in from the overpowering emotions.

Angra was digging at the wall, his claws scoring up the age-weakened drywall and turning it to dust which gathered at his feet. There seemed to be a physical effort to calm his mind and the waves of emotions and endless incoherent chattering faded to a dull background noise in Narcians mind, "Help..."

With an exhausted sigh Narcian fell to his knee's, wincing still but thanking Bast that the emotions had dulled down. However he knew the struggle Angra must be having. But...help? What could he, the weakest of them all, a mere telepath do? "W..with what?" He asked softly, at a lost. He hadn't forseen any of this. He didn't know what had happened to the persian. And he didn't dare dig into Angra's mind.

Angra's thoughts gave a shudder that translated into a physical shiver to rocket down Narcian's spine. He was trying to focus his thoughts enough to speak to the telepath, speaking hurt far too much. "I've been poisoned..."

"P...Poisoned?" Narcian sat back on his heels, shaking his head as his spine continued to shiver, making his shoulds shake just a little. "I do not know...I can try to heal you, but I have no talents with poison." He replied nervously, worridly.

Angra agreed mentally but was hesitant. It won't kill me... though I wish it would... bast.... He snarled and curled into a tighter ball, panting raggedly.

Narcian tilted his head, eyes worried as he gently, hesitantly laid a hand on Angra's shoulder. Wincing as instantly the emotions grew louder, stronger with the touch. "Wont...kill you..." He thought trying to search through his own head to find what little he knew of poisons. There were those that paralyzed and those that killed almost instantly. Those were the only ones he knew. "What is it doing? Sir, I need to know if I can pinpoint it." He had healed many small minor wounds. But nothing from inside the body.

Angra's muscles vibrated with his efforts to keep as still as he could and to keep his thoughts as silent as he could. They seemed to fade to the background again even with Narcian's paw on his shoulder. I -need- was all the persian 'said' before as image or thought flashed through the telepath's mind. It was of the two of them in a rather compromizing, if not rather violent, position.

Narcian shut his eyes tight amd stumnled back, falling onto his ass with his left paw propping him up, the right still outstretched, but no longer touching Angra. His body shook as he stared at Angra with wide eyes. "I...I cannot..." He didn't know what to say. "Sir..."

Angra did not move an inch the violent shaking not withstanding. His claws dug deeper into the wall and he glared down at the small pile of dust forming below him.

"Sir...I do not know how to help you..." He couldn't. Not only was he unwilling, but he could not remove this poison. The only way that might help the persian would be to delve into his mind, and Narcian would not do that. It was something that would have to run itself out of his system. He stood slowly on shaky legs. "What...How were you poisoned?"

ambushed.. I awoke like this He ripped his claws from the wall and wrapped them around his stomch snarling and smashing his forehead to the ground.

Narcian slowly knelt once more and cautiously laid his paw on Angra's shoulder again. He did not want the persian, the only feline he knew besides their Lord, hurting himself. "Please...Is there anything...else I can do to help?" He shifted uneasily on his knee's, ears plastered back against his skull.

Angra was suddenly lifting his face from the dust. But it seemed as soon as his nose was off the floor he was on the telepath, his teeth nipping and trying to claim the skin at the other tom's neck as his paws held the smaller tom down.

Narcian let out a startled yowl as he was pinned. But it was short-lived as Angra nipped at his neck. His eyes clenched tightly shut as the physical contact made the telepathy stronger. "S-sir!" He stuttered, his paws uselessly tangling in the persian's mane. He was far smaller and weaker.

(Section was taken out due to adult content. If you wish for the full version, email me or send me a message. But remember it holds a warning. If you do not like slash, please do not ask for it.)

Angra collasped beside the small tom and panted raggedly, "I'm so sorry Narcian..." He groaned out, his eyes glazed as the last of the poison was torn from his mind.

Narcian was shaking uncontrollably. He wanted to move away from Angra, but he didn't think he could. He ached, his mind was still a hurricane and his body felt like it was on fire. All he could do was keep his eyes shut with pain as he tried to quiet the tumult within his skull and slowly, barely shake his head. Yet deep within the storm of his mind...was laughter.