Fall Of The Empire
Rating: T (for now.)
Disclaimer: I don't own this. If I did, the second season would have been out already, and I would be all over that like white on rice.
Author's Notes:
1.) What's this? Hoshi-
Another chapter. That's weird. And only a few days after the release of the last one? How odd. It's almost as though I'm getting really into this, and the end is coming up. . . :o Okay, all jokes aside, most of it was because I really wanted to hurry up and get to the end, and I loved Curse of Ratilla and Birth of the Blades as episodes.
When you love something, it becomes really easy to go ahead and write about it. Quite expeditiously, too!
2.) Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I wasn't expecting so many. Or the views, either! We've cracked 12k, everyone! Color me impressed, I never thought we'd get there, honestly. I thought maybe 5k. Well. Let's see how high we can get it when I start season 2, eh?
3.) Are you excited for the end? Birth of the Blades, Recipe for Disaster, Soul Sever, and What Lies Above - and bye bye, Season 1. I know I've practically been saying this every single chapter now, but I'm ready for the end. I've got my emotional blenders out and my canon-plot-fiddlers ready. Prepare to be meddled with, canon!
4.) This chapter is actually one of the shortest that I've ever written. Weird, huh? Don't worry, Birth of the Blades will more than make up for it. Action. Lots and lots of action. And a bit of a twist at the end! But anyway, I'm hoping I did things well enough in this chapter. I kind of liked how short it was, for some reason. It just seemed to fit. I won't lie, it kinda felt like Echo tuned out at about the middle part, because something kept bugging her.
. . . I wonder if that something will finally get her full attention next chapter?!
Protip: There will be tons more dialogue from everyone's odd human, one caustic puma, and Lion-O, King of Mistakes. But we'll get there.
Warnings: Nothing, except for stylistic things FF loves to om nom. Mild cursing. If you see anything with the first-person in it, it should be italicized. That is all.
. . . this text is here for a mysterious reason.
The ride in the tank had been a short one. Echo was glad - she was anxious to get the ops underway, and with Mt. Plun-Darr being just a short hop away, she was already kind of excited to get started. It was weird, that she considered action to be exciting, but it was hard not to be. They were finally getting to see other Cats, and she was relieved to know that their small band weren't the only ones to have survived the fall of Thundera. Exiting from the tank, Echo joined the group as they hiked up an incline, heading for a foothill surrounding the mountain.
A storm was rolling in, and the closer they got to Mt. Plun-Darr, the more violent it got. Dark clouds boiled overhead, accompanied by lightning flashing and thunder crackling. It was reminiscent of the storm surrounding the Black Pyramid, albeit this storm held no evil presence, it was still an impressive tempest. As Echo walked, the group silent, she finally got a good eyeful of Mt. Plun-Darr. It loomed out of the darkness like a giant obelisk, dark red crystals jutting out of the uneven rock. An enormous skeleton clung to the side of it, skull craned back in a silent, eternal screech, leathery wings rotting, claws dug deep into the rock.
As Echo looked at the corpse of the great beast, she felt an uneasiness in the air, and she didn't like it. It felt like she was standing on the precipice of a cliff, and looking over the edge, just begging a gust of wind to knock her over and send her hurtling into the dark.
"Myst," Panthro said, breaking the silence, "The Dragoon of legend. Long ago, the dogs waged a great battle with the beast. Mt. Plun-Darr claimed both of their lives. To this day, its corpse remains, guarding the mountain."
Pumyra showed them up a small trail, abandoned and forgotten. Conveniently, it led them to a handy little overhang with an excellent view of the mining operation. Echo hunkered down, gaining cover next to the rock. The cats settled down, crouching and peering over the wall, scanning the mining operation. Echo looked down at the mine, noting the shabby tents making makeshift living areas, the sizable amount of Cats milling about, and most notably, the rats that stood guard, mercilessly beating their prisoners with whips and swords. Even with the distance they were at, Echo could hear the cries of pain and the familiar crack of the whip.
The cats next to her stared at the mine with a mixture of horror and anger, fury acting as a wonderful chaser for the potent mix. As Echo peered down into the quarry, looking at the faces of the defeated cats, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, drowning everything in white.
Echo sucked in a surprised breath of air as the white swirled, blending with shapes and colors, and then she wasn't at the mine anymore. She was at a hundred different places and times. Omens pressed against her mind, almost shivering in some kind of anticipation, so excited and eager for her to see something, to acknowledge something she hadn't before-
From the whiteness, a black bolt of color appeared, forming into a shape. . . A sharp edge.
It was a sword.
Another voice, louder and stronger than Omens, cried out, begging to be noticed. Echo split in two, one of her still seated on the ground, and a ghostly version of herself walking forward. The phantom of her stepped closer to the sword, which began to emit an aura tainted purple. It tore at her clothes like acid, disintegrating them bit by bit. Strands of hair fell to the ground, the ends singing close to her scalp. The doppelganger of herself reached the sword, and grabbed the hilt.
The purple mass exploded, and Echo squinted her eyes as the winds buffeted her, but she caught sight of how her other half changed. Cold blue eyes stared back at her, and her clothes melted away, but were just as quickly were replaced with something else. It was a uniform she didn't recognize, and although it was ripped and battle-torn, it looked. . . right. Another blink of her eyes, and the vision was gone, the mine stretching out before her again. Echo breathed out deeply, glad to be back in reality. Her hands reached into her tunic, seeking her journal. She was just going to sketch out a few rough shapes so she could remember it later, and add to it in detail-
It wasn't there. Echo patted the space she kept it tucked away in, but the pocket was flat. I must have left it back in the tank. Keeping the vision fresh in her mind, Echo swore she'd write about it when she got back. How weird had it been, though? A black sword, like Omens, only it wasn't. . .
Cheetara growled, low and menacing, the sound like a swarm of angry bees in her throat. "I can't stand to see our people treated like this." She glared down at the rats, who began gleefully whipping a cat who had fallen to the ground. Overhead, the thunder rumbled, shaking the land and drowning out the animal's cries.
Pumyra stared at her blankly, nonplussed. "Try living it. For months, I suffered lashings from those rodents. We gave up hope of being saved long ago."
Lion-O flinched, as though she'd visibly slapped him.
Echo took a steadying breath and calmly blew it out. She made no secret of disliking Pumyra, but she also knew it was necessary that she and the cat get along sometime or another. And it was a true fact that Pumyra had every right to be pissy with Lion-O, too. Their king had abandoned them for months. She'd been slaved, beaten, and whipped. Echo figured if she were in Pumyra's place, she probably would have done the same thing. Even knowing all that, it still didn't sit well with Echo.
"Do you remember the fall of Thundera, Pumyra?" Echo asked, her voice quiet.
"I remember that day very well." The puma replied. Her voice was hard, but laced with curiosity.
"I do, too. To my dying day, it will stay engraved in my heart. We all lost people we loved, and the city we cherished. Thundera was my only home. We tried to hard, Pumyra. So very hard. But Mumm-Ra. . . have you ever faced him?"
"No," Pumyra said, "And if you're asking for sympathy-"
"I'm not." The human interrupted, "But one day, you'll meet him. And you'll understand. At the time, there was no way we could have defeated him. He took the lives of the Guardians of the Crown - of Jaga. Lion-O was not ready to undertake the burden yet, but he is now. He doesn't want your forgiveness - he knows he has no right to ask for it. He'll do his best to redeem his sins, but I know he'll take that failure to the grave."
Pumyra stiffened, staring at her, her golden eyes slitted. She huffed, turning away.
"Some sins can never be redeemed."
We'll have to work on that.
Her whispered counsel with Pumyra ended as Lion-O straightened slightly, clutching at a rock in front of him.
"These cats will go free today. I swear it."
Next to Echo, Pumyra didn't look moved or thoughtful. She just stared down at the mining operation, impassive. Panthro pressed a scope to his eye, examining the op.
"What are they digging for? They're not touching the thundrillium."
"Why should they? It would take years to refine." Tygra replied, fingering some of the baby crystal formations in front of him, 'Mt. Plun-Darr poisons anything it touches."
"They're mining for the Sword of Plun-Darr." Pumyra answered.
"The Sword of Plun-Darr?" Panthro parroted, looking shocked.
Mumm-Ra's sword. . .
Her vision flashed in her head again. What the hell did it mean - and why then and now? Did it mean she would wield this Plun-Darr. . . or that she could? There were too many unknowns, and she didn't like it. That uneasy feeling still plagued her, pressing against her skin and taking residence in her heart, weighing it down. All the same, Echo frowned. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like where this night led her at all.
"If what I learned from the Book of Omens is true, its power rivals my own sword. If Mumm-Ra finds that weapon, it may not matter if we get to the other stones first." Lion-O's outlook of the situation was bleak. . . but honest. If Mumm-Ra got his hands on that sword, their mission was done for.
"Then while you free slaves, I'll take care of the sword." Cheetara responded. She got up, not waiting for approval. Immediately, Tygra stood with her.
"I'm coming with you." He asserted. Cheetara smiled at him.
"Don't think I can handle it alone?" She teased.
Tygra grinned. "Why would you want to. . . when you can handle it with me?"
Pumyra stared at them. "Go away." She said, voice deadpan.
Echo laughed, and for a moment, she swore she saw Pumyra's lips twitch into a semblance of a smile. But it had to be a trick of the light, because Pumyra wasn't smiling. She was just staring at them impassively. Had to be a flash of lightning, she mused. A beat later, Lion-O hopped up, and bid them both to be careful. Pumyra slid to her feet gracefully, padding over to Lion-O.
"You like her, don't you?" She asked softly.
Echo's frown sharpened. Pumyra was hostile, sometimes downright nasty, and now she was being. . . somewhat nice?
"No. I mean - uh, I'm over it." Lion-O said hastily, a blush rising under his fur.
Pumyra looked up at him with. . . with doe-eyes? Echo stared, utterly confused.
"Maybe it's time you move onto someone else?" She suggested.
Echo felt her heart drop.
She's not. . . Oh, my god. She is.
Lion-O looked down at Pumyra, as if he were finally seeing her. He looked at her body, at her face, her eyes, and Echo could see the spark of interest that flared to life in them. Honestly. . . Echo couldn't blame him. Pumyra was stunning, with a beautiful body. She had a curvier frame than Cheetara, a bit more filled out, and her assets were a tad more prominent than the resident cleric's. Pumyra had muscles, too, and they stood out in stark definition, highlighted perfectly by the one-piece dress/skirt she wore. But. . . But Lion-O had known her for all of six hours.
Something in her chest pinched in pain, and Echo screwed her eyes shut. No. No, no, no.
Her rescue came in the form of Panthro. The general got to his feet, looming over the two of them, and rolled his eyes. "Enough flirting. Let's do something about those slaves."
Echo fell into step beside him readily, glad to have a distraction. As they ran down the trail, every step felt like it fractured her heart in her chest, and she swore she heard it in the air. Pumyra was making the moves on Lion-O, and her friend was actually interested. And she was. . . She might have been a step away from finally attempting the same thing. Shaking her head, Echo forcibly dislodged the thought. If I get through tonight, she swore to herself, I'll try. There's no harm in that, right?
A promise was the best that she could do.
And with that, the mission was on.
"Best course of action would be to incite a revolt," Panthro proposed, "Get the slaves riled up, the guards get confused - easy pickings."
"You need to gain the favor of your people," Pumyra added hotly, "I think that'll be a difficult task."
. . . Hot damn. That was one hell of a mood swing. Echo glanced over her shoulder, and sure enough, Pumyra was glaring liquid hatred at Lion-O. Her friend, however, spotted his first opportunity, and peeled away from their group to approach an old cat. Echo switched directions, walking over to the lion as he retrieved a bowl of water for the exhausted, emaciated, and feverish-looking cat.
"Here, drink this."
The cat's features softened in gratitude, and his eyes sparkled with hope as he looked up and realized who was helping him. "Lion-O." The old cat wheezed. "My king has returned."
"I only wish I had come sooner." Lion-O said softly.
Echo fished a few leaves out of a pouch on her belt and handed them to Lion-O. In turn, he passed them to the old cat and instructed him to chew the herbal remedy, and eagerly, the old cat did. As his jaw moved, however, his eyes turned haunted and glassy.
"They said you wouldn't come back. . . that you'd forgotten. I knew you would, though. I never lost hope."
Reaching down, Lion-O caught the slave's hands in his own and held them.
Echo caught Pumyra's expression softening, a chink appearing in that prickly armor she wore.
"Who did this to you?" Panthro demanded, tone promising pain.
The slave pointed, his finger trembling in anger. "They did."
Almost theatrically, lightning flashed, showing the silhouette of a rat whipping another cat. Crates blocked the way, but Echo knew the sight. Disgust and horror took residence in her stomach, and she vowed she would put a stop to this - tonight. They would free the Cats, they would restore Thundera, and they would stop Mumm-Ra. They'd find the stones, and would restore Third Earth to a peaceful state.
She had to. Seeing so many animals suffering was just. . . Unbearable.
Pumyra snarled and leaped forward, eyes slitted in rage, but Lion-O latched onto her at the last second, keeping her from breaking their cover.
"Stick to the plan, and they'll all be free soon enough!" He said. Or tried to, anyway. Pumyra pulled back, slashing out at him with her claws, and broke free, sprinting through the encampment and to the rat.
Echo bolted after her. Whatever Lion-O's plan was, it just got edited. She lagged behind the puma, but when she came around the crate, Echo was utterly impressed to find the cat grabbing a somewhat lavishly-garbed rat by the wrist and bodily throwing him, crates exploding on impact. She was so much more than a pretty face - Pumyra packed a punch. One rat charged the human, but she checked him in the gut and brought his head down on her knee, knocking him out. Lion-O and Panthro arrived, taking out the other two rats.
A flash of brown caught Echo's eye, and she stood there, stunned, as Pumyra ran forward, a savage cry leaving her lips. She fell on the rat, fists punching his face over and over again, relentless and brutal. The human stood there, slack-jawed, as Pumyra pummeled away, intent on killing the rat with her bare hands. Lion-O jumped on top of her, wrestling her away from the rat.
"Enough, Pumyra!"
She bodily checked Lion-O away, and he staggered into Echo. She caught him, saving him from falling onto the ground.
"Stay out of this," She snarled, "I'm gonna make sure he never touches a cat again." Silver flashed in what muted light there was, and Pumyra rushed forward again, seizing the rat by his throat and lifting him up into the air. The rat kicked his legs, futilely begging for his life.
"I was only following orders!" He pleaded, eyes wide with fear.
"Then I'll take care of the rat who gave them, too!" She growled, eyes mere pinpricks in her rage. Pumyra wound back the blade, preparing to stab it down into the rat, and for once in her life, Echo honestly froze.
She didn't know Pumyra was capable of such a cold-blooded feat. If they weren't there, she'd probably set to murdering every single rat in the encampment, staining the ground with blood and corpses. Darkness swirled in the cat's eyes, and Echo was scared of it. Panthro's eyes were dark with emotions, but never to this extent. Pumyra's eyes were almost black with rage, tinges of insanity at the edges.
Lion-O ran forward a second time, catching her wrist before she could plunge the knife into the rat's chest. "Stop!" He shouted, wrapping Pumyra up into a body lock. The puma was forced to drop the rat, who crawled back onto the crates in fear, and Lion-O released her, pushing her away from her intended target.
Instead of screaming at Lion-O, like Echo thought she would, the puma regarded him curiously. She was confused.
Did her mood just flip again?
"What is this monster's life worth to you?!" She demanded incredulously, "He deserves death!"
"In Thundera, I freed a lizard who did the same for me. Sometimes mercy can be an even greater weapon than the sword."
Pumyra growled, looking every inch as though she wanted to rip Lion-O's throat out. Ignoring the death threat, Echo bent and retrieved the cat's fallen blade, pulling it free of the earth. And miraculously, Pumyra's mood did another 180. She went from murderous to understanding in a heartbeat, her eyes softening, the doe-eyed expression returning.
"If you were anyone but my king, that rat would be dead." Though her tone was laced with a threat, it was soft. Mentally, Echo shook her head and wondered what the hell was the puma's problem. Pumyra made Echo's hissy fits look like completely normal events.
Who the hell could turn from a stone-cold killer to a flirting cat in two seconds flat? Regardless, Echo held the knife out to Pumyra, hilt-first. "He's a good king," She said, "And an even better friend. I hope you can see that."
Pumyra said nothing, but accepted her knife, and tucked it away on her belt.
Panthro grinned. "Yeah, kid uses that crown to get you to do all kinds of cockamamie things."
Lion-O glared at Panthro, arms flexing at his sides, like he wanted to punch the general.
The reaction made Panthro laugh. "Oh, don't gimme that look, I was joking."
Lion-O's expression got worse, his lip twitching, and Echo giggled - but the sound died in her throat. Lion-O raised his hands as if to attack Panthro - and the completely into the air in a position of surrender. Recoiling, the human noticed that the rat they'd just saved had a sword tucked up against Lion-O's spine, a surefire killing blow.
"Drop your weapons!" It hissed with a smug grin.
"Oh." Panthro said.
Echo did as commanded, secretly envying the general. Why couldn't she have picked nunchucks? He didn't have to take a harness off and on through every hostage situation. And lately, she'd been doing a lot of that. Echo stared at the rat, supremely unhappy as she fished her harness off of her body and dropped her Thunderian steel into the dirt.
"Heh. . . maybe he didn't hear my speech?"
Echo turned her deadpan stare onto her friend.
Only you would joke at a time like this.
A pathetic amount of rats took them "prisoner," although if Echo was being honest with herself, she felt incredibly insulted. Four rats - including the opulently-dressed lieutenant - led the front, while three rats brought up the rear. Their weapons had been confiscated, but one rat at the back of the pack carried them all, grunting underneath the weight. They had been clapped in iron chains, but Echo was legitimately getting bored of the whole thing. With a flex of her mind, she could easily break her cuffs, use their shock to grab her swords, and in that distraction, Panthro and the others would be free.
It would be sickeningly easy.
But Echo didn't, if only for the fact that the rats were taking them somewhere, and if Echo could guess, it would probably be to whoever was running the joint. And if that were the case, it was probably very likely that Lion-O wanted to have a few words with whoever was in charge. It was just how the lion rolled. One rat prodded at her, urging her forward from the back of the pack, and Echo complied, picking up the pace.
They were led toward a lower area of the mine, to a sheltered outcropping of rock that began to smooth out, from years of feet walking over the rock and hundreds of thousands of hours spent polishing and smoothing the stone. Echo glanced at Pumyra's back, idly wondering why the cat hadn't lashed out and murdered the first rat that had tried to touch her.
Another infamous mood swing, perhaps, as most of Pumyra's expression was blank. As they walked past cats, the rats hurried to shepherd them away from view, eager to quell the rising, curious whispers of those cats who had spotted them. Slaves peered at them, interest and hope in their eyes, their voices excitedly asking if they were staring at the ThunderCat king- a rat began whipping a slave, and several more followed suit.
The cats dispersed as quickly as shadows, vanishing from sight.
Pumyra shifted, moving in closer to Lion-O, so discreet that not even the redhead noticed. Before Echo could stop herself, she glared at Pumyra's back. Really, she was the only cat on the whole of Third Earth who could change moods on a dime. Not to mention she was blatantly hitting on Lion-O. . . and then readily hating him with every fiber of her being the second. It really made no sense. As secretly as she could, Echo sighed.
And she, of course, was the only human on Third Earth who would bother to indulge her jealousy when they were in a life or death situation.
Typical, typical me.
The rats led them into an opulent throne room, decorated in gold and lavish marble. Echo marveled at it. Under the torch light, the delicate stonework glittered, humbly telling of the hundreds of hours took to craft it. If it wasn't inhabited by incredibly cruel rats, Echo mused, I think I would appreciate it more. It rivaled Thundera in terms of beauty - it truly did. But the stark reality surrounding it made Echo's admiration fizzle away and shrivel up.
The blood and lives of cats and rats had been required to turn the room into an ugly masterpiece of apathy. Nobody's lives was necessary to soak the stones and turn it into a monument of dominance. The lieutenant leading them ascended the steps, Lion-O's gauntlet and Omens in hand.
"Ratar-O. I have prisoners for-"
Ratar-O, a great beast of a rat, stood. "Slaves." He interrupted. "Belong in the pit, you hopeless halfwit." He sneered, clearly displeased with his subordinate. Ratar-O, great whiskers hanging down each side of his muzzle like a stringy beard, and long, sharp talons that drummed against the golden throne he sat was fat, but under it, Echo could see muscle, too. Ratar-O was easily three times the size of a normal rat. Curiously, Echo peered at the rodent closest to her, wondering if somehow they were still adolescents of some kind. . . but no. The lieutenant at the top of the staircase was flecked with gray hairs.
Eager to please his master, the lieutenant lifted up Lion-O's gauntlet. "But they had this!"
Ratar-O perked up, finally paying attention to the rat. "Let me see that!" He demanded, gesturing his subordinate closer.
The lieutenant bowed as he offered it up, exaggerating his movements grandly. Omens practically hissed as Ratar-O neared the blade, and she could practically hear it shivering in disgust as the rat ran its fingers over the golden case. Of course it would, Echo thought, staring at Lion-O's gauntlet, I wonder if that other presence has anything to do with it. . . She still couldn't get rid of that weird feeling in her stomach, like something else was calling for her, begging for some sort of attention. Ratar-O turned the gauntlet over in his hands, and then peered down at their motley crew again.
"So you're the child king of the ThunderCats," The rat murmured, looking them over, "A shame you have no kingdom, and an even greater shame I missed its tragic downfall. What a sight it must have been to see an empire come crashing down."
Lion-O tensed. Echo stared up at Ratar-O, trying to figure out his angle. Yeah, it sounded cocky and gloating, but it wasn't. . . completely self-absorbed. Unlike most of the other villains they had faced, Ratar-O actually sounded remotely. . . down to earth, if that was the right way to phrase such a thing.
"What's left of your people belongs to me," Ratar-O continued, "And soon, the Sword of Plun-Darr will, as well."
The Sword of Plun-Darr. . . Echo thought, fighting the strange feeling inside of her again. If that sword is here in the mountain, somewhere, and my vision are related somehow. . . She wanted to say that it could have been a good thing. But Echo remembered what Lion-O had told her, all those weeks ago, in the Tower of Omens. Billions of lives had gone into the forging of that sword. Billions of lives in a galaxy just to have the blood of a star to craft his weapon of choice. . .
It should have been enough to convince her that it was evil.
But Omens was forged from that same star.
"That sword belongs to Mumm-Ra." Lion-O grated out, spitting the words at the rat.
"Indeed. And the fool doesn't even know it's here. But long before anyone knew it was once his, it was ours."
Eh? They weren't working for Mumm-Ra? That strange feeling inside of her combined with a strong blend of dread, turning into a very potent mixture of something nasty. There was no way Mumm-Ra couldn't know. The rats were practically firing flare signals in the air, and broadcasting what they knew on neon signs. Hell, their security system was a joke. They'd slipped in easily enough - what if a scout in Mumm-Ra's army had already discovered their mission?
It meant they were running on borrowed time.
And Echo really wasn't keen on running into Mumm-Ra again so soon.
"Looks like it didn't do you swamp-dwellers much good." Pumyra smirked.
"It did," Ratar-O said, oddly calm despite her barb, "Until the cats took it away."
The rat descended down the steps, stopping in front of them. He surveyed each and every single one of them, starting at Panthro and working down the line, until he came to stand in front of her. He didn't say anything, but Echo tensed when he lifted a taloned finger and began to lower it close to her head. She stared at the rat, slightly nervous - and jumped a little when Ratar-O lifted a lock of her hair away from her face and ran it through his fingers.
She was a curiosity to him, she knew. Nothing more, she could see it in his eyes. His finger grazed her cheek as it ran down the length of her hair, and Echo nearly dropped to the floor was a familiar funny electrical feeling jolted through her. No, no, no! Not again! Why you? I don't even have a connection to you or anything! I don't want one!
Echo closed her eyes, willing herself to relax. If she rooted herself in the present, there was a chance she could make the oncoming vision go away. Maybe. Hopefully.
"For generations," Ratar-O began, moving away from her (she was becoming something of a one-second fascination lately), voice entering lecture-mode, "Lived off of other animal's leftovers, feeding on scraps in the swamplands, barely surviving underground."
Echo could detect a faint twinge of a mushy swamp, and with every moment that passed, the decaying scent of vegetation got stronger. She concentrated harder, trying her best to stay in the present. There was no telling what could happen to her if she lost herself in the vision.
"Until my ancestor, Ratilla, made a discovery that changed our destiny forever!"
Her feet felt wet. Echo silently prayed, wishing and hoping to whatever deity was listening that she wouldn't get sucked in.
Whatever god - or goddess, Echo really wasn't choosy - was listening apparently sucked at being godly.
With a startled gasp, the floor under Echo broke, and her body was wrapped in water. She thrashed, but she sank, the murky water sucking her down, down, down. Fear raced through her, and despite the bubbles that streamed in her vision as she turned, trying to see the demons, because surely they were there (they were wherever water was) - and she caught sight of them. The fiery golden-eyed demons crawled towards her, setting the waters ablaze, hissing and popping as they slowly crept towards her. The red-eyed demons streaked through the water, a shadowy blur, red eyes gleaming as they approached.
The word fear could only go so far to describe how Echo truly felt. "Terrified" or "completely and utterly panicked" might have fit better, but they, too, didn't quite capture how she felt. Her tongue tasted bloody, and she felt the need to both throw up and run away screaming. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making every nerve in her body crackle to life with a vengeance, and she wanted to run, to curl up in a ball - Echo wanted to do a million things.
Instead, her lungs burned, demanding she suck in a deep, soothing breath of air-
She did, only the water didn't rush into her throat. Air did.
The revelation was enough to make Echo still, and the water gently deposited her down on a silty bottom. She blinked down at it, completely and utterly confused, but her head jerked up when she heard a fizzling and popping noise, and there, right there, the demons were coming-
A strong, bright, purple light flashed, vaporizing both the fiery demons and the shadow-creatures. Echo flinched, her arms raised to protect herself, and she trembled, swallowing thickly as she stared at the last place she'd seen them. The demons were gone, however, and the purple light behind her remained very much insistent, demanding to be acknowledged. Echo turned, still strangely unaffected by the water, and there, in the depths of the rock, she could see a purple glow. It was calling to her, begging to be touched, to finally be unearthed and used. Echo could wield it. She knew she could.
It was just like Omens. A bigger, stronger brother to Omens.
Like a siren's song, Echo wandered closer to the sword, grabbing the hilt of it, covered in muck and grime from years of being submerged underwater - and power exploded around her.
Agony seared her right hand, and Echo clamped it closely to her chest, pressing it against herself, trying to make the pain dissipate. Echo flickered her eyes open, looking down at her hand, and she grimaced at what she saw. She hissed as she caught sight of her hand. Pain rocked through her, racing across her palm, where an ugly bruise laid just under her skin. It was a terrible mixture of blues, blacks, and purples, and in all honesty, it looked as though she were diseased.
It stung viciously, and her hand ached when she clenched it into a fist, but it was bearable the more she used it.
The scenes around her changed, the purple light boiling the water, evaporating it into nothingness. The landscape fell, razing itself to the earth, and fires blazed, destroying what little remained. An army of rats marched over the land, trampling over a fallen flag of Thundera, their armor making a loud clamor. Echo cradled her wounded hand close to her chest, worrying her bottom lip through her teeth. What was the point of showing her all this? The fires quieted, and cats rose from the ashes, stained, fearful, and afraid.
They called for protection, begged and pleaded for a power against the evil.
A powerful wind swept up, and blew the ash-cats away. The fiery plains hardened into rock, and lightning broiled across the sky, and a high, towering canyon yawned around her. On a rock, stood the shadowy visage of a young, powerful Jaga, wielding Omens. Echo watched as Plun-Darr's purple energy, and Omen's red energy collided, fighting against one another for dominance. Omens won, just barely managing to overpower Plun-Darr. It fell to the ground, shrunk and defeated.
Plun-Drr screamed for help as Jaga cast a blue light over it, murmuring sacred, powerful words. Even in the vision, the sword cried out to her, begging her to help it. Instead, rock closed around it, bright thundrillium closing around it. Plun-Darr, in a last act of resistance, billowed a strong aura around it, poisoning the crystal. Mt. Plun-Darr rose in a few moments, tainted red thundrillium warning all who strayed too close away. Jaga remained right at the base of the mountain, chanting and weaving his magic, and before him, she could see the large thundrillium crystal, and the small gauntlet trapped inside it.
Echo stood and approached, the heaving, cracking, hissing landscape steadying under her feet. Jaga kept chanting, not noticing her at all. Echo approached, reaching out and touching the crystal, laying her injured hands flush against it. Her bruised hand ached and throbbed, flaring in agony. The thundrillium glittered, and she caught sight of a very human reflection staring at her in the glass.
Markata?! She whirled, and lost her balance. Echo dropped to a knee in the throne room, her eyes stinging as torches flickered over the gold and marble inlay.
"Human!" Pumyra hissed.
Echo felt like she'd run the mile. She had no idea how she'd stayed so still, but she had. She shook her head, struggling to maintain her breathing.
Ratar-O laughed. "Ah, the infamous pet. Does it pain you so to finally grasp the true cruelty of the cats?"
"Pot, kettle says whattup." Echo grated, forcing her voice to remain even.
Ratar-O blinked down at her. "I understand that to probably mean sarcasm. Regardless, you remain ignorant, just as the cats do. We will rule, as our ancestors once did." He strode away from them, back to the staircase leading up to his throne, and the lieutenant gleefully grinned beside him.
"And we will be at the top of the food chain!" He exclaimed. Ratar-O stopped, sneered, and then kicked him, sending the smaller rat toppling head over heels. Echo made it back up to her feet, her hands clenching into a fist - and pain speared through her. She glanced down, and there, her palm was still plagued by the disgusting bands of colored skin. Somehow, it came through. . . Was my vision really a vision? A mystery to ponder later - when they were out of danger. She clenched her hand into a fist and glared at Ratar-O.
"What in the name of Thundera was that?" Pumyra demanded, whispering to her.
"It happens sometimes. I'll explain later." She whispered in return.
"We?" Ratar-O repeated, "Remember, your place is to serve me!"
The small lieutenant picked himself up, holding an injured arm. "I'm getting tired of your abuse." He grumbled, frowning.
"Good!" Ratar-O dismissed his remark with a wave of a hand, "Then take it out on the cats. I want them all dead!"
The guards kicked the back of their knees, forcing them all to the floor. Echo didn't mind - the pain in her hand was much greater in comparison to that of her knees. Her shin guards cushioned the fall well enough, so she really didn't mind it. What Echo did mind, however, was the overwhelming, strange feeling of glee, of happiness. It plagued the air, filling her head and her body and making her want to shake her limbs to be free of it.
The lieutenant sharpened his axe behind them, something clearly meant to be intimidating. At any other time, Echo would have been frightened. She would have been casting secret glances at Lion-O and asking what the plan was, what she should do. But the feeling inside of her, making her uneasy, and the pain in her hand kept her from concentrating. The sound of their imminent death wasn't even on her mind.
"It was your mercy that got us into this." Pumyra hissed.
That helped bring Echo back into their current situation. She glanced at Pumyra out of the corner of her eye. Seriously? This cat was becoming famous for huge mood swings.
"And I'll get us out of this." Lion-O assured her.
Finished sharpening his blade, the lieutenant dropped his sharpening stone. Echo hardly noticed. The strange feeling swamped up inside of her, begging to be paid attention to. Echo shook her head, trying to clear it. Another energy began to spin through her head, making it spin.
She did, however, hear a hushed silence fall on the room. They're getting ready to kill us.
"Maybe you should start with me?" Panthro offered genially. "He's gotta get us out of this."
The ground shivered under her feet, and Echo paused, taking in a deep breath of air. A beat later, and the ground quivered, the floor rolling as though it were made of liquid, sending everybody off balance. Rock and dust fell from the ceiling, beginning to rain down and coat the throne room, and just as quickly, everything began to fall apart. It all came apart at the seams, marble cracking, gold dissipating into dust, and Echo wasn't sorry to see it go.
A large crack sounded through the room, and Echo looked up, spotting a boulder hanging over Ratar-O. A strong shudder passed through the room, and the boulder cracked, crashing down on Ratar-O. Echo stared at the spot where the rat had been buried, and she felt no pity.
"Well," She said, "That solved one problem." She was absolutely positive she hadn't been heard, the crashing sound of rocks drowned out her voice. But she was wrong.
"And makes another!" Pumyra shouted.
Echo didn't move. She knew that it would be folly to try and dash for the door, and there was no telling if the ground would give way under them and dump them into the mines. Something told her, deep inside, that she was going to make it out of this completely alright. She just knew it. Echo closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax. The ceiling of the throne room caved in, and Echo was swallowed up in darkness.
She didn't remember passing out. Echo was. . . actually kind of glad that she didn't. Experiencing her body getting piled on with rocks and dirt was not something that she wanted to have in her memory. Echo laid there, feeling her body, and she knew she was alive, rocks pressing against her. But it was strange, her wakefulness. She knew she was awake, but she just couldn't open her eyes. She could feel, she could hear. . . She just couldn't wake up.
Echo remained in a very hazy twilight. She swore that she dreamed, a very fantastic and epic fight between Ratar-O and Lion-O. And while she bore witness to their battle, a strange energy begged for her to come and find it. She saw whips and swords, haunted, dead eyes, and red thundrillium crystals and reflections of Markata. His gaze lingered the longest, black, old, and ancient.
And then light. She saw lights.
Bands of energy, like Omens and Plun-Darr.
An explosion sounded, flashing her away from her dreamworld and into reality. Her ears rang, and a headache pounded in her temples. But she was awake, and that was all she could ask for. She was alive, sucking in air, and in pain. Still, Echo tugged on her arms, and somehow, miraculously freed herself of a small rubble pile. She got up groggily, gingerly pulling herself from a mess of dirt, rock, marble, and gold. She slowly got to her feet, and was relieved to find that almost all of her was covered in bruises, no broken bones or deep gashes.
They'd survived by luck. Panthro grunted as he helped heave a rock off of Pumyra, and Lion-O slung the puma's arm over his shoulder, freeing her from the wreckage.
"Told ya I'd get us out of this." He said, all cocky smiles.
Pumyra looked up at him tenderly, "Perhaps there is room for mercy in our struggle." She said softly, doe-eyes returning in full force.
There really wasn't time for her to be feeling jealousy, or emotional pain, or anything like that. . . but she still felt a twinge of pain in her heart. She was remotely gladdened by the fact that the night was quickly expiring and she was, in fact, alive. And that meant that she'd have to make good on her promise. . . or at least try to make good on it.
She was spared further pain as a few moments later, the group got together, and everyone shed themselves of their chains and cuffs. Deciding to walk off some of her aches and emotional pain, Echo took to the outside, shepherding the cats into a line, meant to be leading away from the got into it, acting as a walking dispensary of information. Some cats expressed interest, others a muted hatred (again, Echo couldn't really blame them), and others pestered her with questions she had no answer to.
"How is Thundera?"
"Where has the king been?"
"Why did he disappear?"
She kept her answers fairly generic, and waved the cats along, telling them to set up a makeshift home outside of Thundera's ruins, and if they would kindly be patient, their king would be with them soon enough. She couldn't concentrate too much on the cats, though, as that weird, urgent feeling still plagued her, and on instinct, Echo patted her tunic, looking for her journal.
She had so much material she had to log.
I wonder if Cheetara and Tygra made it out of the caves okay. . . They look pretty unstable.
"As if there were any doubt we'd die down there!" A voice declared.
Tygra! Talk about timing.
Jogging over to the group, Echo was completely astonished at finally laying her eyes on Plun-Darr. It was absolutely gargantuan. The hilt of the sword was easily more than what she could wrap her hand around. She glanced down at her palm discreetly, sizing the hilt and the bruise on her palm. Definitely smaller. But if it was crafted from the same material Omens was, then it was probably meant to shrink and expand at the will of the owner.
As she looked at the gauntlet, Echo sucked in a discreet breath. That feeling was almost overwhelming, practically screaming at her to pick up the sword-
Oh my god. It's Plun-Darr. I can hear it talking.
Echo cast a wary glance over to Omens, who sat docile and dormant. Omens talked to her, too, but it wasn't to this extent. A quick glance at Cheetara showed the cleric untroubled, which meant that she was alone in the Plun-Darr department. But why the hell would Mumm-Ra's sword want her to pick it up? What if a repeat of her palm happened? She was fairly certain that it would make her useless as a fighter. If the pain continued in her hand while she wielded the sword. . .
It was too confused. Echo shelved the thoughts and decided to come back and visit them later.
Lion-O stretched a hand forward curiously, hovering over the gauntlet, that glowed a bright crimson and purple.
"This isn't a weapon for cats to wield," Cheetara spoke, Lion-O drawing his hand away, "We should take it to the Tower of Omens before Mumm-Ra learns its been unearthed."
"It's too late for that!" Panthro shouted, pointing to the horizon.
There, in the distance, is an army. Tanks, hovercrafts, mech units, and way too many ground forces for them to ever hope to beat. It was the entirety of his army and then some, if Echo could gauge it right.
Echo stood on the precipice of a cliffside, expelling a gusty breath of air.
Well, she wanted a war.
It looked like she got one.