Disclaimer: I only own the idea for this story. The characters are not mine.


It has finally happened! That little fool of a Magician is going to release me. There is no Jellicle Moon Magician to counter me. I will have the control I need in no time at all. And all because of that compassion of his. He cannot condemn his tribe to death, and he does not believe himself capable. My deception has worked. He will never know how powerful he actually is. It will be wonderful to be free again. His protection spell will wear away with time and I will have control of this tribe, and any others who stand opposed to me.

This Magician does not know what he is up against. He has never known. Even with help he cannot hope to return me to the back of his mind. He only calls on me when he is in dire need. The irony of this is not lost on me. He hates me, but he cannot survive without me.

I have finished. He will not harm my loved ones. I step out into the clearing again. The Pollicles' howls can be heard, they are mere streets away. I must give control before they arrive. I look to the Twins and they nod as one. They are ready.

I close my eyes, releasing my hold on him. I am pulled and pushed. This is not right. He is fighting me as he breaks free. Instinctively I struggle, something feels wrong about this. My eyes snap open to see that I am trapped. Trapped within my own mind. I hear everything he thinks and everything he says, but it does me no good. I have no voice, no say in what he does. Bast's Fangs, what have I done?

I open my eyes, looking down I see that the chest of my body is black. A cold smile curls the corners of my lips. I am free again! He gave me control, and he will not regain it. Quaxo is gone. A purr rises in my throat. I cannot help but look at the psychic cats. They appear impassive, but there is a slight glint of apprehension in their matching eyes. "It is a pity your Magician doubted himself. He was as powerful as I; he just did not believe himself to be." I feel the Magician struggle in the back of my mind at that, but I have had millennia of practice at ignoring them. He will not regain this body, or life. I stride toward the entrance. First to deal with these dogs and then it is time to handle the Jellicles.

Rage rises in me. He has concealed from me the most basic fact about the New Moon Magicians, the one fact that he has made me forget—we are some of the most powerful Jellicles alive. Even without him I should have been able to handle these dogs, or enough of them for the tribe to be safe. I growl. He will not keep me here. I will not remain trapped in my own head, waiting for him to harm those I love. I push against the cage I am now in, but I feel him solidify the walls. This can't be happening!

The fight is brutal, but quick. I have no choice but to watch. Everything he sees I see. The Pollicles never stood a chance. They all lie dead, or have fled to avoid ending up like their companions. The Op-Mistoffelees has defeated them. Wait, The Mistoffelees? Bast, no! He's regained his name, and with it his control. How can I break this now that he has regained his identity? I struggle, feeling him entrapping me more. He doesn't know my mind as I do, but I fear it will do little good.

I feel him stirring, but he will not defeat me. No cat but the Jellicle Magician itself can conquer this power. The Magician is tenacious, but he will not banish me again. I refuse to live a generation trapped in his mind.

"Your job is done. Release the Magician."

I sneer at the Mystics. Do they really think I would willingly allow him to regain control? I realize their purpose as I see flecks of white appearing on my paws. They have distracted me. "Aserette!" The spread of the light is stopped I can feel the Magician storming around, he is trapped now. That one word is enough to stop him, unfortunately it cannot reverse the little bit of control he has gained. He is not trapped in one place any longer, but he will not regain the ability to live a physical life. Well, if this is what it takes. I will concern myself no longer with the Twin Mystics. They cannot touch me, and they will not harm their friend. I will beat this kitten and bind him for the rest of his lifespan if I must.

I almost had him, if only he hadn't seen. I had reached my own magic, but with that one word of command he pulled that away. I cannot reach that. He stopped my pursuit of it, and therefore my escape. There must be another way out of here. I begin to search. He does not give me time. I am suddenly standing in the center of the scrap yard. I cannot feel the earth beneath my paws and know that I am merely an apparition. I turn slowly to face my adversary. Many moons ago I wished to be simply myself, Quaxo, not the Magician, not the bearer of The Mistoffelees. Now I am and I wish I wasn't.

He sneers as he stalks toward me. His primary weapon has always been words, but now I see his paws crackling with lightning. Well, two can play at that game. I feel for my mortal Magic. This is the Magic that is mine by right of birth. This is the Magic that hums through my blood and keeps tempo with my heart beat. This is the Magic tied to the Jellicle Moon itself. I feel it flowing to my paws, they do not crackle as my opponent's do, but they begin to glow softly. Oh, Bastet, let this work. Let me have the strength for this.

I growl. I can see how he fears me. He fears his own weakness just as he fears my strength. He still doubts himself, and that will be my opening. The deception I have planted in his mind for his entire life is my key to this battle. I am the Magic that I wield. He is not. He cannot stand against me.

Bast give me strength. This battle is not one I can win alone. I chance a momentary distraction to cast a glance to the moon. It is the full moon opposite the Jellicle Moon, but there is an aura about it tonight. It sings to the Magic within me as only the Jellicle Moon has done in the past. Perhaps I can conquer this darkness after all. I hear a crackling and throw myself flat, the bolt of lightning missing me by a whisker's length. I rise. This time when he fires I don't even think. My magic forms a shield around me. The protection absorbs the lightning and the bolt never touches me. I hear The Mistoffelees begin to murmur. His chant grows in intensity and I know I must act now or I will not be able to again. "Arriete Liberashio!"

How dare he! I had nearly completed the binding spell when that whelp uttered the counter spell. How could he know it? It is concealed from all mortals. Unless…No, that is impossible. The Jellicle Magic knows that New Moon Cats belong to me and to me alone! I snarl. I will not lose my place in this world! I lash out, a bolt flying from my paws as a spell leaps to my lips.

I dodge away from the lightning, to run square into a wall I cannot see. It holds me there like a mouse in a trap. He is toying with me. I struggle, growling. I will not give in to this! The next bolt doesn't miss. Agony shoots through me, up and down my spine. This is not how I am meant to end, a voice murmurs in my ear. It is lighter than The Mistoffelees', but the power in its tone tells me that it is of the same deep magic. I speak what it tells me. "Proterionna Liberashio." My voice is fainter this time, but immediately I feel a change. I am released from the wall I could not see and I turn to face my demon.

My hackles rise as the Magician speaks. Who is helping him? I always made certain he would not know the ancient Magics. I look around, my adversary must be here. To my shock there is no other cat present. The white cat that haunts me through the ages is nowhere to be seen. I have only a moment to consider this before I am put on the defensive by a sudden blast of white light from the Magician's paws. My lightning will no longer work, but it is not the only weapon at my disposal. The shadows surrounding us quiver. They respond to the slightest thought from me. Darkness is my element. This Magician before me knows nothing of his. He does not have one. Born at the New Moon he is caught between light and darkness. Neither flows strongly for him.

The new voice in my head tells me what I must do to access a strength I never knew I possessed. I stand in the center of the clearing, my gaze flitting about as the shadows around me writhe. They may not hurt flesh and bone, but I am neither at this moment. I hold my ground in the direct light of the moon. My opponent glowers at me from the darkness, only his golden eyes visible. The shadows reach out for me, but as they do I feel the moonlight give me strength. I raise my paws, I will only get one shot at this the voice warns. Listening to the Magic that sings for me, I focus the light into two identical bolts. They shoot forward, scattering shadows left and right, finally coming to rest wrapped tightly around The Mistoffelees.

NO! This cannot happen! He has no more control over light than I do! I struggle against the searing grip of the light, trying to call back my shadows, but they will not answer. The brightness fills all the corners, weakening me. I struggle hard against the Magician. He cannot win this! I will not be imprisoned again! There is another source of power, I can feel it.

He is weakening! This will work. The voice supports me, I am the Magician. It is my duty to control the Magic. He is not willing to be controlled, but that means naught to me. This is not easy, but nothing in life ever is. I battle my way back into control. The longer I hold him in the light the weaker he becomes until I am able to speak the words again murmured in my ear. May you be bound to the cat who holds you, never to haunt until the day of his death has passed. Simply an order in the common tongue. No more of these single words in an ancient language not spoken outside of Magic. This I can understand.

I am trapped! The bonds of the words wrap around me like chains as I am hidden away to be used like the Magician's mortal Magic. My humiliation is complete, far greater than if my adversary had killed me yet again. Yet still I live. My power will return to me. I shall wait until that time.

I watch in amazement as the light forms shackles on the Opposition's wrists. I hear a pawstep beside me and turn, immediately dropping into a bow. Before me stands a cat in gleaming white. He cuts an imposing figure, his green eyes calculating, but not in the same cold way as the Opposition. I know I am in the presence of the Jellicle Magic itself. The very thing we Jellicles celebrate is standing before me. His gentle paw is laid on my head and his kind voice speaks. It is now that I know the voice which has guided me through this ordeal.

"Return to your life, Magician."

When I raise my eyes from the ground both Magics are nowhere to be seen. I can feel the Opposition in the back of my mind, and I know he shall always be with me. Somehow, I can live with that now. He is part of who I am, but so also is the Jellicle Magic. Before I can muse on this any longer, the Twins are at my side, helping me to my feet. Yes, I can live with being who I am. The Magician. The bearer of The Mistoffelees. Nothing will change that. Nothing will sway that. I know well that I will not be the last to face the darkness within me. He has lived for many millennia and he will continue to do so until the day the world falls into ruin.

Thus was the tale of The Mistoffelees laid to rest for three generations. Oh, he tried to control the Magician again, more than once, but always when the Magician was in dire need I would step in. My brother and I have been at war since the night Bast banished him for torturing her beloved handmaidens. I follow him now, through eons, waiting to counter his next rising. He and I shall remain this way until one of us is no more, or the end of time, whichever comes first. The world continues to spin and we continue to live. When the Magician dies there will be many years of peace, time for his tale to spread among the other cats, to offer hope to the next kitten my brother chooses. This cycle will repeat until the day the sun sets for the last time.