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: Last prologue before the story starts up!
Nothing much to say this chapter, just want to get the ball rolling.
Warnings: Echo says the word damn. That's it!
"Are you ready?" Sunda asked.
"N-No." She replied honestly.
The leopard had perched himself on the edge of her bed, and Echo knelt in front of him. He pulled a brush through her hair, trying to tame her tangled, wild locks into some semblance of obedience. . . and her hair seemed to be winning. Sunda cursed under his breath as the brush got tangled for the millionth time.
Echo gave an aggravated sigh as the cleric set about trying to free the brush.
"It's not my fault you don't brush it every day." He said, finally managing to pry it loose.
"Takes t-too long." The words took an eternity to pronounce, but she got through them. She'd been up all night, practicing speaking, and Echo had discovered that if she spoke slowly, she was capable of stuttering out a sentence.
Sunda grumbled something under his breath, and Echo picked up a fallen lock of her hair and rolled it between her fingers.
"It's n-not me." She murmured, staring at it.
"What do you mean?"
"Wrong c-color."
"Echo," Sunda said, patiently, "There's no shame in having white hair — or being different. Besides, white is the color of honesty and integrity. . . and a great many other things. It's something to be proud of."
Echo gave a noncommittal noise in response, and dropped the hair. Sunda scooped it up and began to braid, hands moving deftly behind her.
"Okay. . almost. . . done! Now, we are running severely behind schedule. Let's go over to the palace." He tapped her arms for extra emphasis, and she stood, knees aching.
She didn't know how long she'd been kneeling there. Echo had been entirely set to go to the palace, mop of hair left untouched. As fate would have it, however, Sunda had spotted her, wielded a brush like a deadly weapon, and had informed her that she was going to get her hair braided, whether she liked it or not.
She was just about to go to the mirror when Sunda grabbed her and bodily steered her out the door. She protested, wanting to see what she looked like, but the cleric was unrelenting.
"No, no. You're already running behind as it is, and King Claudus admires punctuality. Come on!"
She gave in, and fell into step beside the leopard. As they left the cleric hall, Sunda escorted her across the palace grounds, and with every step, Echo grew more and more anxious. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to control the rampant turmoil in her chest. This was the farthest she'd ever been from the cleric hall, her safe haven, and she felt wholly uncomfortable.
In what seemed like seconds, they were in the main entryway to the palace, and Sunda gestured her inside. Alarm rushed through her as she caught sight of Sunda turning around. You can't leave me alone! She tried to backpedal, but Sunda caught her, and gave a hushed laugh.
"No, no, you have to go through the main entryway. I have to guard the outside. It's tradition — go on now, you don't want to keep a king waiting, do you?"
Sunda turned her around and gave her a little push. Echo stumbled, and whirled around, but the cleric had outright vanished.
Echo stood there and suddenly felt very, very small. She breathed in deeply and hoped the leopard would reappear, but he did not. She breathed in deeply, and pressed her hands together to stop their shaking. She turned, staring at the main hallway, and then back to the main entryway.
Way to leave me high and dry, you useless leopard.
Worrying the inside of her cheek through her teeth, she began to start forward, her hands growing clammy and her throat drying up.
Anxiety permeated every cell in her body as she walked forward, trying to ready herself to meet her fate.
Her footsteps bounced off the walls, an unsteady metronome counting down the time as she drew closer to an ornate, wooden door. Echo swallowed, attempting to tamp down on the nervousness that was threatening to overwhelm her. Her hands shook so badly her entire arm almost vibrated, and her stomach was churning and knotting at the mere thought of walking into the throne room.
She closed her eyes for a fraction of a second and willed herself to concentrate on things other than the doorway.
Sleep had eluded her the previous night, as Echo had imagined every possible scenario that could go wrong. Likewise, the same distress had made it impossible for her to stomach anything for breakfast.
Part of her worry stemmed from the thought that she'd already done something wrong.
In the garden, the day before, Lion-O had taken off. He'd looked alarmed as he noticed the sun dipping below the horizon. He gave her a short, "tomorrow!" before running off, a ragged cloak tucked neatly in his arms.
Stop that. It's only making you more nervous. Really. Stop fretting over it so much. She knew it wasn't wise to read into signs that might not be there, but the harder she tried to focus on something else, the more her brain focused back on the meeting at hand.
In a desperate attempt to distract herself, Echo looked at the palace around her. It was as grand on the outside as it was on the inside.
Every surface appeared to be polished and cleaned daily, and it was incredibly hard not to admire the many splendors that were artfully placed on display. Portraits portraying epic battles and fallen heroes hung on the walls, crafted with care and honor. Large, open windows invited those walking the grounds to look inside — to show they were welcome.
Certainly helps project an aura of amiableness between the nobility and the citizens, she thought, admiring the bright sunshine and greenery draping the outside walls.
As Echo continued to slowly approach the door, she caught a flash of her reflection in a mirror. She stopped on a dime, and cast a look at the door, then the mirror, the door. . . the mirror won. Just one more once-over. She wanted to make sure she looked immaculate for the king and the royal family. And, to be completely honest, Echo wanted to see what Sunda had done for her hair.
She stepped over to the mirror, hands smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in the new clothes Jaga had given her.
Layered over her long-sleeved shirt and pants was a sleeveless vest. It had a high collar that bunched around her neck, and the entire thing stretched down to her knees. It was stitched in a manner that rounded off at her hips, allowing one panel to fall in front of her, and the other to fall behind her. Sunda had explained that it was a traditional style of clothing, meant to allow the legs plenty of room to move for fighting. Echo was glad she had pants on underneath it.
Nobody needed to see what stories her skin told.
Sunda had also done a wonderful job with her hair. It was plaited in a simple, yet elegant braid, but wayward strands still hovered, framing her face. Well, nothing can be perfect. Still, Echo made a note to ask him how he managed it later — she just might have to adopt it, to keep the wild beast of her hair in submission. Nodding, Echo stepped away, satisfied she looked presentable.
She only hoped that King Claudus and the royal family would forgive her for her human status. Drawing in a shaky breath of air, she separated from the mirror and faced the doorway leading to the throne room.
It loomed, just a few feet away, and just looking at it had her nerves fraying. Exhaling, Echo tried to center herself.
"My name is Echo," She said, slowly, "and I am a human. It is nice to meet you."
She'd practiced in her room most of the night and morning, saying the words over and over again.
Nice to meet you. . . nice. . . there's got to be a better word.
". . . an honor. It is an honor to meet you."
There, that sounded better.
Echo began to walk to the door again, forcing herself to move before she lost her nerve. It opened before she even had a chance to knock, and a servant inclined his head, gesturing for her to step inside. She hesitated, but Sunda's infection grin flashed across her mind.
"You'll be okay. I promise you it won't be as scary as you think it will be!"
His words gave her enough courage to step inside. She straightened her spine as much as she was able, and tried to project an aura of confidence she definitely didn't feel.
It'll be fine, it'll be fine, it'll be fine. She thought, repeating the words in her head like a mantra.
As Echo entered the throne room, she was immediately taken aback by the opulence on display. It was just as ornately built as the rest of the palace, albeit the roof was much higher, and drapes and tapestries hung across the walls. It gave the atmosphere a hushed and private tone. At the end of the room, a circular alcove had been carved from the stone, and there Jaga stood beside three thrones, two of which were occupied.
Echo stopped in the middle of the room, and found herself face to face with King Claudus. He appeared to be an older version of Lion-O, but he seemed much more rough around the edges. Where Lion-O's face invited conversation, King Claudus had his hidden under a veil of seriousness. Echo could tell just by his body posture that he was a very stern person.
To Claudus's right, sat a tiger. He looked as regal in bearing as his father, although his face seemed slightly more open and inviting than the king's. The tiger's brown eyes regarded her with a guarded curiosity.
The third throne — presumably for Lion-O — was empty.
Where is he?
"King Claudus," Jaga spoke, voice bouncing off the walls, "I present Echo, the human that has been in my care for these past few weeks. Echo, this is King Claudus, and his son, Prince Tygra."
Echo had no clue how foreign diplomats received the ThunderCat king, but she bowed her head, attempting to convey respect.
"My name is Echo. It is an honor to meet you." She said, enunciating each word with care. Her voice started strong, but shook at the end. Much better than what I thought I could manage.
The sharp gaze of Claudus examined her, peering critically. Echo fidgeted as he took his time to look at every inch of her strange, alien body, and a long moment passed before he answered.
"So you are this 'human' Jaga has informed me of. My cleric also tells me that you have lost your memories. Is this true?"
Echo sensed a strong familiarity at hearing his voice. She tried to put a finger on where she'd heard it before, because she had. She was absolutely positive of it. . . but where?
Claudus narrowed his eyes on her, and Echo felt her face flush as she realized she'd hesitated a moment too long.
"Yes," She said, quietly, "I c-can't remember anything."
Except for blood, pain, and the driving need to do something. . . only I don't know what.
"I see. As you can imagine, this is a disappointment. We are curious as to what a 'human' truly is. You resemble a race known as the Wood Forger, however—"
"Sorry sorry sorry!" A voice yelled.
Lion-O stumbled out from the left side of the throne room, surprising them all. He bolted to his chair and seated himself quick as a flash. Tygra pinned Lion-O with an exasperated stare, and Claudus outright glared, simmering in anger. His guard fell into place a second later, and he schooled his expression into impassiveness as he turned to Echo again.
Lion-O shot his father a sheepish smile, and then straightened in his chair and tried to look as princely as he could. Lion-O flashed her a bright smile, and Echo twitched her lips in response.
"— however," He continued, "Wood Forgers have not set foot in Thundera for quite some time. We welcome all species, so long as their intentions are peaceful. I offer you refuge in my city, so you may have a safe place to stay and regain your memories. You will remain under Jaga's care during the duration of your time here."
"T-Thank you." She said.
I know where I've heard your voice. Back when she had been trapped in the hands of demons, she was certain he was the one Jaga had been speaking to in a hushed conference. Echo didn't know why it felt important to note that, but it did.
"ThunderCats are suspicious of new species," Claudus continued, "so it will be wise for you to claim yourself as a Wood Forger."
"But. . . b-but. . ." Echo flushed, and fiddled with her fingers as she tried to speak. The words were on her tongue, but she couldn't say them. The silence stretched on, pressing against her.
Echo floundered, just on the verge of sinking.
"Yes?" Claudus prompted.
"I-I'm n-not—"
"Calm yourself, Echo." Jaga said patiently, "Take a moment to gather your thoughts."
She did, taking another deep breath.
"What if I tell them I am, b-but they don't believe me?" She asked, "I don't think I'm a good l-liar."
"We can tell." Tygra murmured, and for a second, Echo thought she saw Claudus give an amused twitch of his lips.
The king lifted his hand, and a servant approached her, holding a pendant attached to a gold chain.
"This crest signifies you are under my patronage," Claudus replied, "as long as you wear it, the citizens of my city will know you are not to be questioned."
The servant helped her clasp the pendant around her neck. It was a red jewel, set into a golden ring, where runes of the ThunderCat languge were inscribed. Echo gave the royalty assembled a broad smile as she bowed her head again.
"I g-graciously accept your offer, King C-Claudus."
The king nodded his head, pleased with her answer, and then rose from his chair. Both of the princes followed suit.
"You are dismissed."
She bowed her head once more and then turned on her heel, leaving the throne room. Echo was beside herself, muscles trembling as relief poured through her. She felt lighter than air, and as soon as the ornate door closed behind her, she let loose a shaky sigh. She'd done it.
She had survived the throne room.
She glanced down at the crest she wore, and traced the jewel now hanging at her throat. Just have to remember to call myself a Wood Forger. While she was excited to show Sunda the pendant around her neck, Echo left the palace, feet automatically steering her to the gardens. The cleric could wait for a while. It was what he deserved for leaving her alone like that.
Besides, the gardens were her favorite spot, peaceful and relaxing. She could do her own little celebratory dance in the privacy of the shrubs.
The garden was just in sight when she heard the yell.
"Hey! Wait up!"
She turned, and there Lion-O was, jogging towards her. When he reached her, he shot her an apologetic smile.
"I didn't meant to take off so quickly last night — or be late today. I had some business to take care of in town, and my father doesn't approve of me leaving the palace walls without a bodyguard. But I attract too much attention with one, so. . ." He trailed off, realizing he was rambling.
I'd like to ramble aimlessly one day. She was just proud she could form coherent sentences at the moment.
"Echo, right?" He asked.
She nodded.
"You have anything planned for the day?"
"No?"
He grinned at her, eyes flashing happily, "Well then, let me give you a tour!"
Echo gave a surprised yelp as Lion-O grabbed her wrist and tugged her along behind him. She thought about protesting for a moment, but gave in a moment later.
She smiled wistfully as Lion-O began to show her the entirety of the palace grounds, his voice filling the air.
A month passed in the blink of an eye.
Echo and Lion-O had quickly become friends.
When the prince wasn't busy with his royal duties (which, Echo learned, he normally shirked anyway), he searched for her, and together, they would pass the day. She had discovered Lion-O's strange fondness for "technology" and the lion had shown her his secret stash of items.
Routinely, he picked the objects apart, cleaned them, and put them all back together again. Echo thought that some of it had looked familiar, but it was a fleeting notion — there one moment and gone the next.
Still, it was something Lion-O loved to talk about, and she liked listening to his ambitions. He explained what every component did (or what he thought it did), and Echo liked to see the excited gleam in his eyes when he talked about his passion.
In a way, Echo knew their friendship was based entirely on their differences. To Lion-O, she was something new, something he had never seen before in his life. Echo and her humanity posed a mystery to him, and Lion-O loved mysteries. She tried not to let the thought bug her too much, because Lion-O's friendship seemed entirely sincere.
Her interactions with his brother, however, had been severely limited at best. Claudus had not been lying when he had told her that ThunderCats were suspicious of new species. Tygra always looked at her curious, but suspicion and distrust hovered not too far behind. . . which Echo could do nothing about.
Once, he'd caught the two of them embroiled in Lion-O's technology collection. Tygra had snorted and rolled his eyes, saying, "oh, great, you infected the human, too. Right as I was about to try to talk to it civilly, no less."
And he'd left.
She had been offended. He viewed her as something. . . lesser. Like a bug. His words had stung her, and still did. She couldn't help that she was human. She wished everyone would stop regarding her like some sort of freak of nature. Some days, she wished she was a Cat, just so she could avoid their curious, judging eyes.
At least she had gotten better at speaking. She could hold normal conversations, and words came much more easily to her. Sometimes, however, she would occasionally forget a word or stutter if she became flustered. Those instances were growing fewer and farther between — something she was glad for.
But her memories. . . not a single one had come back to her.
Everyone assured her that they would come back with time, that she only had to be patient. . . but it was more than frustrating. How much longer do I have to wait?
Echo sighed as she leaned onto the stone balcony overlooking Thundera, fingers absently toying with the necklace around her neck.
For a month, she had been asking herself the same questions. Who was she really? Why had she stumbled into Thundera, bloody and broken? Why did things look so familiar to her? Why, why, why?
She frowned as she looked out at the city below her. The sun was warm, but pleasantly so, and a gentle wind picked up, blowing over her. At least I know Thundera will always have beautiful weather.
"Admiring the view?"
Lion-O appeared from thin air, scaring a good three years off her life. She jumped, startled, and whirled around.
"Lion-O! Don't do that!"
He grinned impishly and joined her on the balcony. Echo turned back to the view, propping her arms on the stone.
"I like the sunsets most. . . but I have a feeling you weren't really looking at that."
"Not really," Echo admitted, "but you're right. It is pretty."
". . . thinking about your past?" Lion-O offered.
Echo nodded, giving a sigh of resignation.
Both she and the lion had spent many nights ruminating about her lost memories. Echo had told him what she remembered — which was barely anything — and for days, they had come up with a wild number of theories. . . but none of them ever got the pair anywhere. Since Echo could only remember the tiniest of snippets, it really gave them nothing to go off of.
"Yeah," Echo said, glaring at the sunset, "I'm really good at this game. I can't remember anything, and it's been over two months."
"Hey now," Lion-O replied, "You'll remember it. You just need to give yourself time."
"That's what everyone says." She said, sulky. She slumped forward, watching the sun dip below the horizon.
When would she start remembering, already? She wanted to know why she had seen that scene of death and blood. She wanted to know what had attacked her, the demon with the glowing, golden eyes. . . And she wanted to know why she turned the knife on herself.
She had kept that from Lion-O. She just. . . she couldn't admit that to her best friend.
Lion-O tapped her arm, and she glanced up at him. He was smiling, flashing a bit of fang.
"Come on, I know something that might help get your mind off things."
He started walking away, and Echo reluctantly followed. A part of her just wanted to sit there and feel sorry for herself, but the rest of her was intrigued with where Lion-O was taking her. He led her past the palace and into the private courtyards, which were used by the palace guards to drill exercises. They were currently empty, and Echo stared at Lion-O, confused.
"I really don't see how this'll get my mind off things."
"You've been cooped up in the palace for about two months, right? All you ever do is read old books or walk around the grounds — trust me! Whenever I can't get my mind off something, I come here and do a little sword practice. It helps me think. And also," He said, voice dipping conspiratorially, "if you learn to defend yourself, I'll take you into the city."
An ember of excitement flared inside of her.
Lion-O often went into the city to buy more tech from a dealer named Jorma. Echo had always been jealous of the lion. In the span of two months, the palace had felt exceedingly cramped in space and interest.
"Really?" She asked, unable to hide the anticipation in her voice.
Lion-O winked at her.
"Really. C'mon, in here."
They ducked into the armor, and Echo was taken by surprise by the sheer amount of weaponry on display. The walls were covered with them, and the excess was handled by racks set up on the floor. Echo felt her mouth drop open as she took in the sharp blades mixed in with the blunted ones.
She heard Lion-O snicker, and he playfully batted her arm, which Echo returned in kind.
"I've been practicing with a sword since the day I was born," He declared, voice swelling with pride, "So I'm best at swordplay. But I'm handy with a few other things, too. Take a look around, see if anything speaks to you."
"Humble, are we?" Echo asked, a smirk on her face.
She moved deeper into the room, fingers trailing over the various weaponry around her. Staffs, stangs, flails, nunchucks, swords. . . the armor had a little bit of everything. Most of the armaments she rejected outright, and on whim, she picked up a staff, weighing it in her hands. She imagined herself spinning it expertly, as Sunda did. . . and that was when she saw them.
Echo replaced the staff and ran her hands over the sheathes, feeling. . .
There wasn't a word for it, but the emotion was so strong, it made shivers run down her spine. She traced the sheathes up to the hilts of the swords reverently, and everything in her told her to take them up in her hands. She grabbed both of the weapons off the shelf and held them up to the light.
"Are you sure?" Lion-O asked, "I think you should start out with something blunt instead. Wouldn't want you to gash yourself."
The blades were hooked up to a harness that allowed the wearer to throw it over their back or hips. It made the swords easy to access.
Before she knew what she was doing, Echo had thrown the harness over her back, her fingers moving mechanically, somehow knowing how to tighten the straps. A single blade felt wrong. It was too long, too heavy. But these blades, both of medium length — two halves of the same hole. . . they were perfect.
She drew them, hands holding the hilts tightly. The crafted metal gleamed in the sunlight, and a tremor ran through her as she stared at it.
"Echo?" Lion-O asked, a tinge of concern in his voice.
Echo turned, excitement nearly undoing her.
"I think. . . I think I know how to use these, Lion-O!"
"Really? You sure?" He looked at her, uncertain.
"There's only one way to find out."
Lion-O nodded. As they departed, he picked up a small box filled with clay discs, and Echo felt her giddiness amplifying. Small shadows of doubt wove through her as they drew nearer to the ring, and she bit the inside of her cheek, her heart pounding.
Echo stepped into the dirt ring, twirling the hilts of the swords in her hands — and nearly dropped them. She bit out a short curse and recovered from her fumble, glad Lion-O had his back to her. Okay, slow down. Let's not do that again. She gripped the hilts tightly, feeling that nameless emotion again. The weight of the blades was a comfort, and a strangely enough, filled her with a small measure of confidence.
She looked down at the blades in her hands, catching the bright reflection of the sunlight as it bounced off the metal.
Did she really know how to use these?
She really hoped she wasn't chasing after ghosts of her imagination. She prayed she wasn't so desperate to know something, anything, that she was grasping at straws. She'd been wanting a clue for months, and if she was wrong, if she was jumping the—
"Lion-O, there you are. You've got. . . what are you two doing?"
She groaned. Just my luck.
Tygra peered at them curiously from the hallway bordering the sparring field. The tiger glanced between the two of them, and then down to the swords in her hands. His eyes lit up in interest, and his lips rose in a smirk.
"You sure you should be playing with pointy things, human?"
Irritation burned in Echo, and she shot Tygra a hot glare.
Though she'd only shared a few words with the other prince, he always addressed her as "human" or "it" and refused to call her by her name. Tygra didn't like her — didn't trust her. The sentiment was returned in spades by Echo.
She opened her mouth to shoot off a retort, but Lion-O beat her to it.
"Don't you have something else to do, Tygra?"
"And see the human's spectacular failure? No, I think I'll stick around for a bit." He replied.
Echo shot him another glare, hating that arrogance in his voice. But, much as she loathed it, his words had only served to water the weeds of doubt in her mind.
With just Lion-O, she could handle it if she failed. She could brush it off in time, mend her ego. Lion-O wouldn't judge her for her failure. But Tygra?
He'd laugh at her. Then, he'd tell anyone who would listen the story of her failure.
Lion-O gave a low growl, and Echo looked back at him. He stood just a little ways away from her, holding a clay disc in his hands.
"Don't listen to my egotistical brother, Echo." Lion-O said, giving Tygra a heated stare (which the tiger returned with an even broader smile), "Just relax, okay? I'm going to throw this disc at you. I promise it doesn't really hurt if it hits you, but duck out of the way if you can, alright?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her body suddenly felt numb, and her legs and hands were shaking. Tygra failed miserably at stifling a chuckle behind his hand.
The lion cocked his hand back, and gave her a long look.
"Here it comes!"
And he threw it.
The clay disc made a high-pitched whistling noise as it flew through the air. Echo stood there, completely frozen in place. The swords were like heavy weights in her hands, dragging her down, and she watched with wide eyes as the disc continued to approach. She was going to get hit, she knew it. She shouldn't have even bothered to pick up the swords at all.
The disc was almost at her now, and she heard Lion-O telling her to duck. Tygra was already laughing—
Her body moved.
Her hands changed grip on the hilts, and even though she didn't know what to do, her body just knew.
One sword moved up, blocking her front, and she twisted her wrist behind her, prepping the other for the next blow.
The disc was just a few inches away from hitting her, and she wrenched her eyes shut, waiting for the imminent impact. Echo heard a loud shing, and her arm jerked. Her eyes snapped open just in time to see the disc split messily in two, flopping over uselessly in the grass. She stared at the remains, and felt as though she'd just run the mile. Her chest was heaving as she breathed in amazement. An electric current of excitement ran through her, making every nerve ending feel alive.
She knew how to use swords.
She knew how to use swords!
Echo looked up at Lion-O again, who appeared just as surprised as she did. He beamed at her, a wide smile on his face. Tygra seemed to be equally as shocked, eyes wide as he stared at her. He recovered, and that suspicion was back in place, eyes scrutinizing her.
"Looks like you were right! Your form is really rusty, and it's nothing I've seen, but you know how to use them." Lion-O exclaimed.
"Again," Echo replied, almost stuttering as she forced the word out, "I want to do it again!"
Lion-O retrieved more clay discs from the box, and they repeated the experiment. Each time, Echo stood there, awkwardly waiting for the disc to get in range, but then her body would respond to the threat, lashing out with the swords. The third time, she just barely managed to get it, and the clay disc nicked her cheek, drawing blood.
But its' shattered remains lay in the grass, split and cracked, and it was enough to make her excited all over again.
"Again! Let's keep doing this!"
Her arms were shaking, and her muscles burned from the exertion, but she didn't want to stop. Her hands already felt sore, and they threatened to drop the swords if the abuse continued. Echo hardly cared. She wanted to keep going. She had to.
Tygra, during the course of their second session, had crossed the courtyard and had come to stand next to his brother. He crossed his arms over his chest, a hard gleam to his eyes.
"Why not step it up a notch? See if you really know how, human? Use the machine." He pointed to a contraption that resembled a crossbow, only it had slots for the discs to be fitted. Lion-O began to protest, but Echo cut him off, nodding her head.
She wanted to give herself the acid test. She needed to. Every inch of her was alive with the exhilaration of this discovery.
"You sure?" Lion-O looked wholly uncertain.
"I can do it." She replied confidently.
It was a lie — she wasn't sure. But she had the opportunity to ask herself questions and get answers for them. How would she fare against tens of the little discs firing at her?
Lion-O looked like he wanted to protest again, but he bit his tongue. With a clipped nod, he wheeled the machine into place, and loaded up the discs. Then he stood next to it, his hand on the lever.
"Ready?"
She nodded.
He hesitated, but pulled the lever.
Discs flew at her.
This time, she found herself spreading her feet apart slightly, and instead of waiting for them to come to her, she bolted forward. Echo was utterly amazed at the fluidity of her movements. Her body twisted and ducked, and with every movement, her muscles burned, unaccustomed to the steps of sword play. Echo gave herself over to the dance, becoming versatile as liquid, swords flashing in the light as she struck. Discs fell — some shattered, others neatly split, and a vast majority of them nicked where she hadn't hit them in time.
Her head felt light as she dropped and rolled, narrowly avoiding being struck, and she came up onto her knees—
. . . smoke lay in a thick cloud around her.
"Damn." She hissed, trying to peer into the thick veil covering the area.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she struggled to remain calm. She had to stay in control. She strained her hearing, trying to discern where her enemy was hiding.
"Where the hell are you?" She murmured.
A darkened figure ran at her through the smoke cloud, surprising her. It sped forward, and a blade came down in a neat arc towards her head. She gave a sharp cry of effort as she brought up her own steel to parry the blow.
This isn't good, she thought. She was outmatched, outgunned — and she knew defeat was imminent when her opponent pushed through her guard.
Her blades went spinning away.
He struck her, jabbing at her several times. His blade sliced into her skin, and she hissed in pain. A foot landed in her gut, sending her sprawling backward. She recovered, eyes twitching up to find a foot spinning at her head—
Not today. I won't let you best me.
And then her mind flexed, and power flooded through her.
The foot stopped just an inch away from her temple, and even though the smoke, she could see her enemy's surprise. Fear filtered onto his face, and he began to shake his head, but she glared up at him. A dark satisfaction wove through her as she smiled. She pushed, and then he was flying, body tossing and turning as he began to tumble over the ground—
Echo blinked, and the smoke was gone.
She was back in the sparring ring, and both Tygra and Lion-O were looking at her with expressions of utter amazement on their faces.
"How did you—?" Tygra asked, sounding at a loss for words.
That was a memory, Echo realized.
She felt something hot and wet on her lip, and it struck her hand. She glanced down, and saw a splash of red. What?
She dropped the swords she was holding, and stared at her hand. More little red droplets joined the first. She brought a hand up to her face— and it came away wet with blood. It was dripping from her nose. She stared at the harsh red that contrasted with her white skin, and she only briefly got the chance to wonder what the hell was going on.
In the span of a heartbeat, agony exploded in her head.
Echo curled in on herself, fingers digging into her temple as she groaned, gritting her teeth so hard she swore her jaw was going to crack.
"Echo? Echo!"
Lion-O's voice sounded hazy and faraway. Echo tried to answer, but she couldn't. The pain kept escalating, and it felt like her brain was going to explode in her skull.
"Echo!"
Then she collapsed onto the grass, writhing, hands clawing at her head. Still, her torment kept growing, until she was screaming, begging for some kind of relief.
"Get Jaga!"
She couldn't even decipher who was talking anymore. With every second that passed, Echo found herself completely consumed by the agony in her head.
Right as it felt her entire body was going to come undone, she lost consciousness.
Echo woke up with the stale taste of blood on her tongue.
She groaned and winced as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Sharp pains ran through both sides of her hissed, and she sucked in a sharp breath. She reached up to touch the sides of her head, and felt small bandages. She tried to remember what had happened, why she was hurt, and it came back to her in a rush.
She almost gasped as she remembered the overwhelming agony, and she sat, her spine rigid, as she expected the pain to rise up like a cobra and strike her where she sat. . .
But nothing happened.
Oh, thank god, she though, expelling pent-up air. Her head, did, however, feel somewhat ashy, and it ached, but unpleasant as it was, she could live with it. She looked around idly, and discovered that she'd somehow been brought back to her room in the cleric hall.
"You are awake."
Jaga entered the room, and Echo looked up at him, curiosity and fear and questions boiling in her.
"What happened, Jaga?" She asked, unable to keep her voice from trembling, "What was that? It was the worst pain I've ever experienced in my life."
The cleric seated himself on a chair, setting his staff against the wall closest to him.
"Tell me what happened, Echo."
She did.
She explained everything, from her frustration at being unable to recall any memories that morning, to the familiarity of the swords she'd held. She recounted her fear and uncertainty, and the way the world around her had faded and another had replaced it. It ended as she elaborated on the pain, and the blood. As she finished, she sat there, looking at the head cleric with wide eyes, her hands nervously gripping the cot underneath her.
Jaga was silent as he absorbed all she said. Echo swallowed, and the grimaced at the coppery taste still plaguing her mouth. Finally, the jaguar let out a small, "hm."
"What?" She asked, her voice trembling.
"It appears that, through your memory, you have unlocked a power that was dormant within you, Echo."
Echo remembered laying on the cot in the healing room, racked with pain and fever, and Jaga's words floated back to her, ". . . but under this veil. . . I sense a great power."
This had to be the power he was speaking of. In her memory, she'd stopped her opponent from kicking her. Then, with just her mind, she'd sent him flying backwards. She stared at Jaga in confusion, shaking her head.
"I d-don't understand. What did I even do?"
"Lion-O has told me that you paused. Several discs struck you in the arms, and one was about to collide with your head, but it stopped in the air. It remained there, held as if by some invisible force. A moment later, it shattered. Apparently, there was hardly anything but dust left of it.
Shock poured through her. I did that?
She shook her head in disbelief.
"But how could I. . .? That's not possible, right?"
"Using magic, clerics are capable of many things. The ability to move an object with one's mind, however. . . Is not an easy task. Do you recall ever having used this gift before?"
Echo shook her head.
"I see. Do not feel frightened, Echo. Many creatures on Third Earth are capable of wielding magic in some way. This must be yours. With time, and practice, you will learn to control it."
"But. . . That p-pain. . ."
Just remembering caused a fierce shiver to crawl down her spine.
Jaga got to his feet and collected his staff. He gave her a patient smile, "If I had to guess, I would say that you have not used this ability in a long time. Like a muscle, it has atrophied, and must be exercised. When you grow stronger, your tolerance for such a feat will be greater. I will work with you on this. For now, however, let us focus on the present. You have a visitor."
"Huh?"
Jaga was leaving the room, however, and a beat later, another cat entered. Lion-O stepped through the open archway, an incredibly worried and concerned expression on his face. Upon seeing her sitting up and awake, however, that rabid concern seemed to calm somewhat. Lion-O dropped in the chair Jaga had been occupying, heaving a huge sigh of relief.
"Don't ever do that again. It sounded like somebody ran you through with a sword."
Echo stared at him, bewildered. She had thought that Lion-O would view her differently, as another symptom to her "freak of nature" status had been added to. But there he was, calm as calm could be. She couldn't believe what she was happening. She was the only human in Thundera (and probably, Third Earth), she was claiming to be a race she wasn't, she had amnesia, and to top it all off, apparently she could not move things with her mind.
And there Lion-O was, not looking the least bit fazed.
"You're not. . . freaked out?" She asked, biting the inside of her cheek. She wanted to say 'afraid,' but she hadn't been able to say the word. Her hands clutched at her cot, and her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for a reaction. Because I am. I'm terrified of what just happened. Of what that means I am.
Because I don't even know.
Lion-O looked at her in confusion.
"No. Why would I be?"
Relief flooded through her, and she let out a shaky laugh.
"Lion-O. . . you're the best friend I've had."
He grinned at her, blue eyes gleaming.
"I try. I think it's cool — do you have any idea how many screws I've lost, taking apart technology? That would come in handy. And you've gained a new admirer, too." Bitterness dripped from his voice, and Echo regarded inquisitively.
"I did?"
Was Sunda around somewhere?
At that thought, she glanced at the door, expecting the leopard to be hovering around it. Sunda had a tendency to be overprotective most times, and he shadowed her like a ghost. Likely, he'd probably heard about her new ability. . . or he most likely had heard her screams.
She could expect a visit from the cleric as soon as Lion-O was done, she bet.
"Oh, yeah. Tygra didn't know how to take it at first. But then he realized that you could probably use that in combat, and he really loves challenges. 'Imagine what it could do,' he said. I think he's already planning on being your sparring partner as much as he can."
"That, uh, doesn't sound too bad. . .?" She hedged.
Lion-O stared at her, looking nonplussed.
"He wakes up at the crack of dawn to train with the guards."
"Oh."
Echo hated waking up early. The clerics loved to wake her up as close to dawn as they could, and while Echo was functional, she tended to be on the grumpy side. And her mind most definitely was not present in her body until closer to noon.
Though, all of what he was saying, even his bitter words about Tygra, made Echo feel more than relieved. She felt. . . she felt accepted.
She knew that the clerics were capable of using the elements, and even placing spells and curses on objects and people, but she'd never seen any of them move anything with their mind before. Echo smiled as Lion-O began to launch into theories and conjectures, listing all of the pros and cons of her newly-found ability.
As long as you're mind friend, she decided, then everything just might turn out okay.