*Chapter 1*
~18 Years After...~
It was a cool spring morning, the sun was a few minutes from rising and the ground was cloaked in a thick blanket of fog. The sky was a deep blue slowly bleaching to silver-gray; the night stars were beginning to fade leaving only the brightest behind to face the coming sun. All was quiet in the rural stretch of land just west of London, no living thing dared to break the pre-dawn silence. No living thing, save a rooster that is.
Damn rooster. Why can't it let me sleep? These were the first conscious thoughts of Katharine Pryde, who was desperately trying to sleep a little longer, and failing. Katharine, who preferred to be called Kitty, buried her head under her pillow for a few seconds before giving up the now futile pursuit of more sleep. She sleepily dragged herself out of her incredibly comfortable bed and stumbled to the window to open the shutters. Great, the sun isn't even up yet. I could've slept another hour at least. Crazy rooster, why does it have to get up so damn early? She pulled a face at the offending fowl, cursing it in both English and German. Kitty finished her litany of curses before she prepared herself for the day. She washed her face with ice cold water, brushed out her hair, and selected a dress to wear.
Kitty was not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, so when she came across some of her cheerful, wide awake housemates on her way to breakfast there was bound to be an argument of some kind or another. Today her "victim" was Robert Drake, the self-proclaimed "Iceman". He was the biggest prankster of them all and proud of it. He was always happy, usually laughing about something. And he was the worst possible person for Kitty to meet in the morning.
"Good morning Shadowcat! Did you sleep well?" Kitty paused, trying to reign in her temper.
"Yes I did sleep well Bobby." Kitty replied. "But it would have been better if that rooster hadn't interrupted it. And I have told you repeatedly not to call me Shadowcat. I really don't see how that name applies to me." Kitty had tried to be polite when she answered Bobby, but she couldn't fully erase the irritation that tainted her voice. He only grinned at her before launching into an explanation of his nickname for her.
"It makes perfect sense when you think about it. The cat part comes from Kitty and the shadow part comes from your skill." Kitty glanced at him before she spoke.
"I can understand the cat, but the shadow makes no sense to me. I don't turn into a shadow or really do anything with shadows, so it doesn't work." She then turned away from him and resumed her trek to the dining hall, forcing Bobby to scamper after her.
"The shadow part does make sense!" He protested, lengthening his stride to keep up with her increased pace.
"How so?" She inquired; her tone had an edge, as if she were daring him to prove her wrong.
"Simple, can you touch a shadow?" He asked.
"Of course not. What does that have to do with anything?" Kitty replied her annoyance and confusion growing.
"Well when you use your skill no one can touch you either. You may not look like a shadow, but in a sense you are just like one." Iceman finished his explanation and turned to his reluctant companion. "Do you understand now?"
"Yes." Kitty answered. "Now would you please leave? I'm going to enjoy my breakfast and then I'm going to talk to Jean."
"Sure!" He said cheerfully. "I'll just talk with you after you've finished with Jean then!" Iceman then proceeded to dash of to his customary seat before the grumpy Shadowcat had a chance to explode at him.
Kitty paused once again to regain a hold on her temper before seating herself at the table. Her place was between the two most quiet and mysterious residents of Lord Xaiver's mansion. This suited her just fine since she rarely felt the need to converse during her meals.
The person on her left was Marie, who preferred to be called Rogue. She had no family name as far as anyone knew and no real past. She had just appeared out of nowhere one night during a storm a few years previous. She'd been soaking wet without a single copper to her name and no place to stay. Lord Xaiver took pity on her and allowed her to stay. Eventually it was learned that she had a very unique skill. When she touches a person, skin to skin contact, she drains them. She takes their energy, their memories, their personality, and if they have a skill, she takes that too. If she were to hold on long enough, she could kill, and if they had a skill it would be hers forever.
Because of this as well as her unknown origins, she isolates herself from everyone so they will be safe and so she won't be hurt again. She already had killed one person, that much about her past was known for certain. When Rogue first appeared she had two distinct personalities, hers and someone else's. The second was violent, destructive and she was constantly at war with it. She held conversations with herself that usually ended with lots of screaming and sometimes tried to hurt herself. It was several weeks before she agreed to let Xaiver help her. He used his abilities to excise the alien personality and give her some peace. But the Lord was unable to remove one thing, the victim's skills. Rogue, in addition to her "draining" abilities, now was able to fly and was nearly impervious to damage. At first, Rogue hadn't wanted them; they reminded her of her crime. But she was stuck with them for the rest of her life and had grown to accept them. That didn't mean she had to like it though.
The person on her right was Logan, the Wolverine. No one was certain if his name was even really Logan. He was just called that because it was the only name he could remember. Where Rogue's past was known but not told, Logan's wasn't known at all. Something had caused Logan to forget everything, he had amnesia. Not even the Lord, Charles Xavier, could find any answers for the Cursed man. All Xavier's attempts to help restore the Wolverine's memory met with complete failure. But Logan had faith in his friend's abilities; he was certain that one day he would remember. In return for all the help that Xavier had given him the Wolverine defended the mansion and all those who took shelter there. For, even though he had amnesia, he still remembered how to fight, and he was very good at it. That was the reason he came to be called Wolverine in the first place, he was just as tough, just as mean, and just as feral as the animal itself. His heightened senses and animal instincts combined with his human intelligence made him a truly challenging opponent for any warrior. Add to that his supernatural healing abilities that made near him invincible and his unnatural metal claws, and no normal man could stand a chance against him. Only another of the Cursed had any hope of surviving him, let alone beating him. He may not be the biggest but he was the meanest and that made all the difference.
But that didn't bother Kitty one bit. He may be a tough warrior that preferred to kill first and ask questions later, but he did have a soft side. Logan may treat most of the young people here like children, but he did respect them and would defend them from the cruel outside world that had rejected them. In fact Kitty was one of his favorites, not that he would ever admit it. Despite being female and having a seemingly useless skill she still wouldn't hesitate to jump headlong into a fight. She refused to be treated any different than the guys and could be as stubborn as a mule when she wanted. One would thing being intangible in a fight was a useless power unless you were running away, but she didn't see it that way. Kitty found ways to use her power to her advantage, and the fact that she was very good with a sword didn't hurt either. For a woman to use a sword was unheard of. Rogue was the only other woman in the mansion that used a weapon at all, and she used daggers. Why Kitty used a sword was unknown, not even the Lord knew and she wasn't telling. There were a lot of things that were unknown about Kitty, despite her outgoing and friendly attitude she still kept her secrets to herself. And she had no intention of telling unless she had to, and she didn't have to.
Kitty finished her breakfast in silence as usual before she began her morning chores. She had to wash the dishes from breakfast and clean the kitchen today. Once she finished that, she planned on practicing with her sword for a while, and then she would find Jean. Kitty had made up the excuse that she wanted to talk to Jean just so he would leave her alone, but it wasn't a bad idea really. After all, Jean was older and wiser than Kitty practically ensuring good advice for any problem she might have. And Jean was nice. She may be busy having a husband and young son to look after, but she always found time for her younger friends.
Kitty proceeded to collect the used dishes while saying her good-mornings to all the residents a bit more cheerfully than she had to Bobby. She hummed a little tune as she rolled up her sleeves in preparation for her assault on the dirty dishes. As the monotony of her task began to get to her, she allowed her thoughts to drift aimlessly. She wondered what she would talk to Jean about. Maybe they would hit on the usual topic of men, what were they thinking, who was interested in whom, that type of thing. Or maybe, maybe we'll talk about something else. Kitty glanced at her left hand absently, studying the simple ring that she wore. Then again maybe not.