Mysterious Ways
This chapter is more of a foreshadowing/interlude. A much heftier chapter will be coming shortly.
Thank you all so much, readers and reviewers. HGP, glad you enjoyed it! It took a while for Tugger to get with the program, but I think he'll do just fine. the1andonlyofo, I didn't even realize the chapter was posted so close to Father's Day! How appropriate! Prifdinnas, as always, thank you for your lovely review, and congratulations on getting married! I'll see what I can do for you in the next chapter. Ilja Mitelia, welcome to the story, I hope you'll enjoy what's yet to come. And shikyoDEATH, your review/story made me smile. Thanks for reading and I look forward to hearing from you again!
Disclaimical: T.S. Eliot created these kitties, Andrew Lloyd Webber made them sing and dance. I just play with them, like so many toy mice.
A huge thank-you to CrazyIndigoChild for being my beta-reader!
9. Whispers in the Air
Though the fire had ravaged through these human buildings quite some times ago, the smell of old, stale smoke was ever-present in the air. Evidences of the fire's passage-scorched wood, smoke-damaged walls all about the area, dead and yellowed vegetation—were still all around.
He didn't mind, and in fact, he found the evidences comforting. Fire was an element he rather liked, and enjoyed the constant reminders of its wrath, of its sheer destructive power. It spoke to the magic that rested beneath his fur and skin, the kind that could call upon the fire to do deep, terrible things with a wave of a paw. Fire wasn't the only thing his magic controlled, but it was the element he preferred. It was simple, and beautiful in its lack of mercy.
Those who owed him grudging loyalty, the ones he kept around him, didn't seem to share his appreciation for the permeating burnt smell. They grumbled and complained, but he paid them no mind. When their whining annoyed him, it was enough to swipe out with thick, gnarled claws, drawing blood, reminding them the price of their ingratitude. If the complaints continued, then he would remind them, with fire and lightning, why it was not wise to test his patience.
He cared little for them, in any case. They were crass, unkempt alley cats with no thoughts of their own, mongrels who wanted a place to live and the occasional scrap of food, and a cat much stronger and wiser than them to order them about and offer them scant protection. They were useful to him for their strength in numbers, and that was the extent of it.
There were too many things they did not understand. Things they couldn't perceive, being no better than bottom-rung strays. Things of which he would never speak to them. It was enough for him to tell them to be quiet, and leave him to his solitude, whenever he had desire of it. The alley cats merely assumed he was 'practicing his magic tricks'.
They were right, in a sense.
He had honed his senses to detect magic in the air. Like a scent trail, like a hunt. Over the years, he had caught the scents here and there, faint promises of magic floating about the air. But whenever he followed the trail to its source, he found nothing but disappointment, time and again. This enraged him. Releasing the fire was a cathartic experience.
But this… ah, this was different. It was like scenting blood, a fresh kill. It was magic, there was no mistaking it. It wasn't faint. After the first day, when he'd initially detected the scent, he spent days climbing scorched surfaces and staring out into the wind, his ugly features twitching in delight as he picked up the sense yet again. It wasn't faint at all. It was growing.
This would prove to be most promising.
Short chapter is short. More of an interlude, really. I wonder who the mystery cat is?
Worry not, there's a gigantic chapter coming in a day or two!
