The Leon Pogroms

By GoldenEagle

Author's Note: Do tell me if I misspelled census. Please? And, give me an opinion, purty purty please. The first thing written in ages due to the chemical imbalances in my head. Go figure. OH!! Oh, yeah!!! I added little song/quote things to the two previous installments, so go check it out! YAY!

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Chapter Two: Census by Fireflies

Once was a magical place

Over time it was lost...

The castle floor lies in traps...

Now the drawbridge has been lifted

As the millions

They drop to their knees...

Disillusioned as they enter

They're unaware what's

Behind castle walls...

They pay homage to a king...

His tears are frozen stiff

Icicles drip from his eyes...

Have they lost their heads

Or are they just all blind mice

We've heard all their stories

One too many times

Hypnotized by fireflies

That glow in the dark...

Welcome to the tragic kingdom...

-No Doubt, "Tragic Kingdom"

"I'm not crazy! I'm not!" A girl's cries ring through silent halls. "Don't leave me alone! NO!!! Not again!" Sobbing in the darkness, a child in a woman's body curls in on herself, calling for her brother, calling for anyone. "I never hurt anyone!" She screams. "I've never hurt anyone! I'm not crazy!"

The murderess screams until her voice goes, and then falls asleep, as she does, every night, in the dank, deep dungeons of Asturia.

**********

"Merelu, stop bouncing about." Van said for what must have been the fourth time in the last twenty minutes. Of course, he didn't sound as amused as he had at the beginning of the ride. In fact, his entire cheerful attitude had dropped with the continual annoyance of the furball in constant, nervous motion in the cart with him.

Merle tried to stop. She really did. It was just the utter boredom of the long ride to the Austurian capital that made all her energy coil and burst up like a little, fur covered jack-in-the-box. It was all of thirteen seconds (Van had been counting) before she erupted into nervous conversation again. "Van-saaaaaammaaa... How much longer? And do I have to wear this? And when do we get to eat? And-"

"Merelu!" Interrupted the flustered king, his eyes narrowing in warning. The catgirl's mouth closed with an audible snap at the tone and her ears went back. She began to fidget with her fingers and the silk material of her long royal gown, looking away, outside, to hide her rising tears. Of coarse, Van immediately felt guilty, and cursed her silently for her unconscious mind games. "Merelu..." he began more softly, though there was still a tense note underneath the controlled voice. "Just calm down. We still have a few more hours before we get there. As for the dress, yes, Merle, you need to wear it. You're representing royal Fanalia. Asturia's king can't go thinking the princess of our entire country is some seventeen year old, hooligan of a catgirl who can't sit still for thirty seconds and would rather be playing with the stable boy than speaking with the upper class families that rule the world." His tone had softened to an affectionate drawl and he ruffled her hair on her head, pulling some of the pink strands further from the fancy do it had been in before. Wisps and strands and chunks of light, straight hair fell over the small crown jewels that crested above her forehead in a wild yet elegant pattern set in Fanalian gold.

She looked up to him, his hand still warm on the top of her head, his eyes at ease, fond as they looked down on her. Merelu smiled despite her earlier gloom, and despite the strange pain that filled her heart when he looked at her like that. Those pangs spoke of mature and smooth edged truths that she was not ready to accept. Truths that told her that the look he gazed down on her with was just that. A love that he felt he had to lower down to her, a love that he felt that she needed. It asked her for nothing, though she willingly gave everything for him. She wanted him to want her. That's what the pangs said. She needed him, yes, but she needed him to need her in the same way.

Of course, all these mature truths passed through her subconscious in a millisecond, and she was smiling up at him, offering him the things he did not ask for.

She found the calm she couldn't earlier shortly after, and fell asleep with her head resting against his chest, purring lightly in content, the king beneath her smiling, picking at and soothing her hair in a long standing habit. They were a few miles into the borders of Asturia when Merelu woke up with a start, her ears pricked, her nose wrinkling with scent. Van looked at her, body tensing at her rigid profile, adrenaline pumping at the thought of danger. He relaxed as she settled down again, though there was curious innocence on her face as she leaned over him to pull the curtains of the coaches windows to the side, her head leaning out. Feeling a bit squished, Van pushed her away lightly, looking out himself.

"What?" He asked, eyes alert, on guard.

Her nose twitched again and then she opened her mouth hesitantly, eyes still a bit clouded from her nap. "That smell... There's more here than I've met in all my life." She said, her tail curling and uncurling as she shuffled forward again. "Come look, Van-sama!" She said in hushed excitement.

With a small sigh in half felt annoyance, he wiggled in next to her, the coach's window so small (to make it more difficult for assassin's arrows to make it through) that both their cheeks were pressed firm together, their pointed noses pushing out into the sunset atmosphere. For a moment, Van was distracted by the velvet of fur that grew on Merelu's cheek, but the moment was gone as he saw the gracefully moving stream of beings outside of their transport. Most were covered in hooded garments to protect their face from the chill of Asturian breezes that already told of an early and harsh winter to come. Some weren't, though. Some were in loose and tearing summer garments, rags around their feet. The rich and the poor of Gaea seemed to mix on this road to the Austurian capital. Van had thought he had heard those outside and felt the coach slow, but he hadn't imagined that there were so many surrounding them, all heading in the same direction. It had been quiet for so many, and with a jolt of realization, Van comprehended onto what had caught Merelu's attention.

"They're mostly catpeople." He said, startled. Merelu nodded, the softness of her cheek rubbing up against his, the velvety fur tickling him uncomfortable. Without thinking of what a scene the two youths must be make with half their heads pressed out of this lavish coach, both wearing crown jewels that couldn't seem to hold back the tidal wave of either's hair from their face, he called out to a hooded figure traveling closer than most to the carriage of tanned leather.

"Why the crowd?" he called out to the entity on the back of a foreign horse that was grey and shaggy. A northern horse, he realized before even finishing speaking. Almost as soon as the inquisition had left his mouth, two more horses of the same obvious origin carried their riders to the side of the one the Fanalian king had spoken to. These two both wore heavy, furlined hoods, just as their companion did. There seemed to be some sort of silent conversation that followed, and then the one farthest from the coach brought their mount over. Immediately one of Van's guards moved forward but retreated to a safe and near distance when the king pulled back slightly to push his hand out and wave him away. Van's face was then pressed out again, curious.

The rider pressed close to the carriage before he unhooded himself. Herself, more correctly. A cat woman who seemed to be in her early thirties nodded to the two royals, her thick and long fur a silver that seemed to match her steed's. Her eyes were a sharp golden color and pulled back exotically at the corners. Black waves of hair fell around those eyes, and her ears sprouted from the mane, grey tipped with ebony. When she spoke, she spoke with a far northern accent, one that was never heard in these parts. "Pardon, your Highnesses?"

"The crowd. Why is everyone heading to the capital?"

She gave them both a harsh stare, one that analyzed and then discarded a moment later. "There's a census. All of the cat races have been called from Asturia and neighboring kingdoms. It's not mandatory, supposedly, but they are urging everyone to come. Food is being given to the poor and financial need to those who have food. Everyone needs it, after the war." There was a small pause, and she was staring ahead, ears drawn back, in deep thought, it seemed, before she looked back down to them. "I would have thought you had known, King and Princess Fanel?"

Van looked as though he thought he should have known, as well. "Yes, well, we've been called for a political gathering. I had no idea there was a census being held."

She looked down on them like a goddess to her subjects in a time in need. There's something she knows, thought Merelu. Something important that we don't. "You don't know, your Highness? I would have thought... But haven't your people been called out as well? I have talked to many from the Fanalian providences that have been called, if not forced, out this very day."

Van frowned. Merelu decided to butt in. "Today? We just left today. And we haven't heard. A census? What for?" The foreign traveler was now looking at her a bit wearily, like this bundle of energy was her responsibility in some way. "But, Van-sama, wouldn't you have to approve something like that-"

"Enough, Merelu." He interrupted her, obviously upset and in deep thought about something. He was already pulling back in to the darkened entrapment of their ride, ready to mull over something. "Thank you, madam. Good luck to you and your riding partners."

"And to you, your highness. May Luna keep watch over your path." She gave a low bow in her saddle before trotting off, Merelu watching as the group of foreign riders began to split and spread out, forming a familiar pattern that seemed familiar. Her tail twitched and her ears went back, her eyebrows rising.

"Van-samma..."

"Not now, Merelu-"

"But Van-sa-"

"Merelu-"

"The riders!" He didn't interrupt her, but looked up, inquisitive. "The three? They're spread out like our guard. There's a few more in the same garbs... Van-sama, are the escorting us?" He was moving forward, pushing her away a bit harsher than he meant to. He peered out, and, yes, she was right. He could see them, a mirror image to his own guards, and then when he scrambled to the other side, pushing Merelu away again, they were on this side, too. All in a protective stance. "Van-sama! Look!" She was distracted, now, by the view that leapt up to meet their eyes. It was the Asturian capital, lit in the now darkness as if the buildings were aflame. "Wow! Wow!" Yes, wow, thought Van, staring out at a nation that was a giant to his own. But his tension grew, his frown deepening, as he saw the Asturian soldiers standing post on the approaching gates to the city, upheld weapons silhouetted like a warring army's against the flickering of what could have been millions of fireflies forming the outline of a nation.