ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴇɴᴇsɪs

{oвlιтerαтe тнe dαy ι wαѕ вorɴ.leт ιт вe α вlαcĸ нole ιɴѕpαce.}

THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT HIS DAUGHTER THAT WAS DIFFERENT. He had knownthat the kit before him was of a different stock. Outside of the dilapidated Victorian, the ominous storm had broken upon the small town, sending torrents of rain down to the deserted streets below. It shattered the monotone paradise of one, yet feed an oasis somewhere, where water was more precious than diamonds.

Lightening streaked across the sky, piercing through the darkness for a split second, before appearing elsewhere, thunder close behind. Within the Victorian, a new era was born in the form of a hairless, scrawny, blind thing, huddled next to her sister.

"The first one shall be Jett," the blue she-cat cooed, nosing the larger of her daughters, her green eyes sparkling with pride. The large black tom shifted uneasily, his broad shoulders tensing apprehensively.

"And you may name the other, my love," Celeste purred, watching her mate with a gentle gaze. Shallow glanced down at the kit, how was currently nursing by her mother's side. The tom's eyes narrowed as he stood, padded silently over to his mate and his kits.

There was something off about the nameless one. The aura about the she-kit seemed different- not sickly- but unique. Something drew him to her. He felt power coming off her in waves. Needless to say, she was still a tiny kit. As her father neared her, the nameless kit tilted her head upwards, her blind eyes seeming to search for his face.

"You are to be called Tilt," Shallow declared, touching his nose to the head of his newest descendant. The little kit mewed in what seemed to be thanks, and the large tom purred. He hoped she would grow up to become a great defender one day. Shallow knew one thing; it was that Tilt was something special. Tilt, would somehow, change the world as they knew it.

"Shallow," a disturbingly calm mew sounded from across the room. The tom looked up to see his littermate, Sorrow in the corner of the darkened room. Sorrow's hazel-green eyes flitted to his nieces, softened a bit, but hardened when they shifted back to his brother.

"The Alley cats are heading this way. One of our sentries spotted a convoy of them crossing the bridge and into our territory," Sorrow paused here. "After the Raid they initiated last Deep Freeze, Fang says that this attack might be the real thing. He's told me to tell all the Defenders to head up the Main Den and to have the Learners to escort the Kit-bearers and the kits to the Northeastern Den."

Shallow glanced down at his mate. Her green orbs were narrowed in determination. Gracefully, the she-cat stood.
Her tone was icy as she said, "Not one of them are coming near my kits." With that, she picked Tilt up by the scruff, and nudging Jett forward, Shallow watched his mate leave the Birthing Den.

"Come, brother," Shallow meowed, charging out of the den they had just been in and down the East Corridor and towards the Sunrise room. Truth be told, shallow had been expecting this attack at anytime for four 3 full moons. A hated lived in his heart for the Alley cats. They had kidnapped his beloved sister, Shadow. He would spare none; he was in no mood for mercy.

The two brothers entered the Sunrise den and found the rest of the Defenders already present. A muscular, blue-gray tom was speaking. With his amber eyes, he swept the room with a stony gaze.
"The Alley cats have passed the border, that is true. Their motive is evident. They want a war."

There was silence at this, wherewith normal cats would have caused a chaotic uproar. Shallow took a quick look around, watching the faces of his fellow Defenders. They were tense; you could see it in their muscles. But though their faces were expressionless, their eyes were calm.

"We fight!" Night yowled, looking up at the Seer for support. She was a lithe, elegant black cat with strange eyes. Her stance was one of confidence, of dignity. She was the mate of Saber, the leader of the Circle. Together, they had started the loyal band of cats, taking in kittens and stray, giving them a home. Everyone referred to the founders as Father and Mother.

The Seer nodded her head regally, leapt down from her pedestal, and disappeared into a large hole in the wall. The thunder roared outside, the rain still coming down as it had been but a few minutes before. But one thing had changed, Shallow thought.

They were being attacked. There was no going around Cane and his cats now. Shallow would fight for his mate, and for his newborn daughters. No cat was going to harm them under his watch. That was his vow.

"Here is the stratagem. We will separate into four groups. The first will be a decoy, rushing towards the enemy. While the Cane and his cats are distracted, the second group will attack from the rear and undermine Cane's forces. Then, groups three and four will attack from opposite sides. It's precarious, but we should have the upper hand, considering Cane's is most likely oblivious that we know he is coming."

The Defenders murmured in agreement. "Leading the first group will be myself," Night stated, "and within that group will be Sky, Shallow, and Flash. The second group's leader is Fang, and flanking him will be Striker, Marble, Ghost, Sorrow, and Dusk. The third group's…" "Shallow," Flash called to him. He and Sky where sitting in a corner, waiting for Night. Shallow quickly made his way over to them. The moment he stood before them, Night yowled, calling them to his side.

"Are you all ready to face the beast?" Night inquired, looking over his shoulder as they headed towards the exit of the large house, the carpet muffling their pawfalls. The gloom from the outside seemed to enter the corridor as the four cats finally stood before the exit. Shallow waved his tail.

"I have never been readier," Flash announced, shifting his paws restlessly, his eyes focus on the little light they could see. Night flicked his ear, saying nothing before leading the way outside the house. Shallow followed, his paws sinking into the sodden ground as he stepped outside. Whatever fate awaited him on this mission, we would accept it. He was ready. This thought circled repeated itself within his head, forcing Shallow to believe it.

His fur was completely soaked by the time he reached the road. He lifted his head as he turned the bend, his partners beside him. Before them, Cane walked, sauntering resolutely towards their abode. More than twenty cats followed behind him. Shallow narrowed his eyes into hateful slits. His shoulders rippling in disgust.

"I knew I smelled crowfood," Cane yowled, taking pleasure in insulting the cats of the Circle.
"That piece of dog dung," Sky hissed beside Shallow, her fur sticking to her bony frame. Night began to walk towards Cane and his band. Shallow gulped and followed him. He would not, could not feel fear.

"Now," Night ordered, talking a bounding leap and breaking into a full run. The torrents of rain stung his face, but Shallow loped ahead. In the face of danger, he laughed.

{мαy тнe ɢreαт oɴe αвove ғorɢeт ιт ever нαppeɴ αѕe ιт ғroм тнe вooĸѕ!}

Tilt hissed viciously at this unknown presence which loomed above her. She could not see it's feature, or it's face, but she could make out it's shadow. Whatever it was was large, towering even over her mother and her father. She had felt uneasy and grumpy all day, feeling that ill and misfortune was present in some form and was on it way to find her. She had been right. This darkness that surrounded this presence, it-it was overwhelming. It seemed to drag her down into the depths of despair, and holding her fast in its dark claws.

The tiny she-kit moved backwards, an alarm screaming in her head to get away from whatever, whoever it was. Tilt almost collapsed with relief as she backed out of the shadow that seemed to suck her in. The presence took a step closer, and Tilt was trapped within the enormous shadow once again. She struggled, squealing for help as she felt it dragging her down into the unknown.

"Now now, little one, do not fear. I have come to take you away from this place," a voice whispered into her ear, sickeningly smooth, with a hint of slyness within it, as it was disguising the true evil that resided within itself. That voice was like sweetened venom to Tilt. She shivered. She needed to get away, far away.

"Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" she yowled, hoping, praying that a cat would hear her and come to rescue her.
"Tsk, tsk, my sweet one," the shadow chided, "do you not know that you are alone in the world? There is no one you can trust, can rely upon." Tilt felt its breath upon her ear as it said, "There is no one you can love." She froze.

Was that really true? Could it be that she was not meant to trust, to love? No! She refused to believe such lies. Her parents, Shallow and Celeste, loved and relied upon one another. How could their show of affection be false. How could it be a sham? Where they just pretending, putting on a show? Now that she thought of it, maybe Shallow did not love them. He spent more time in the Defender's den, than with them. He was hardly ever around and when he did come, he had barely enough time to spend with them before disappearing into the real world, once more.

For this reason, Tilt hated the world. It seemed to mean more to her father than she ever could. He always seemed to have something to do there, something that was more important that she was. Celeste had always said that her father loved her more than she ever could imagine, that she was his favorite, that he had named her. But the thing with Shallow was, he didn't show her that he loved her. In fact, his brother, Sorrow, would have been a better father to she and Jett, Tilt often thought.

"When you doubt yourself, what you know, then I have you," the shadow mused aloud. "Doubt is the creator of all evil. Of course, it does not work alone on this. Pride, ambition, and hate are part of the creation too." Tilt felt fear turning her limbs into ice. She could not move, could not speak.

"However, I am not evil. I am simply the void you feel inside. Whether you fill me with knowledge, hate, love , or ambition, it is up to you. For many, they go upon pilgrimages to fill their void, seeking something that is not of this world, something Supernatural. But in that search to find the missing piece to their puzzle, they become lost. And what it meant to fill their void become lost with them, whether in pain, pride, hate, or ambition." The Void, paused here. "We all have the potential to be good or evil, to be filled with hatred, or love. Choose your path wisely, Little One."

The shadow released Tilt and she experienced a falling sensation as she lost sight of the light above. There was no longer a shadow, but around her was darkness, it clung to her, pulling her down, deeper, deeper. She began to let go of her panic. Truly, a shadow was just incomplete darkness. Within every shadow was a potential for light.

This thought affirmed what the Void had said. Truly, in evil, good would be present. As she 'fell', Tilt saw memories, it seemed. Two cats meet one another. Another picture passed; it was of the sun setting over mountains. She looked to her left, she saw herself, larger, with her sister by her side, looking at a dying cat before them. This was the future.

With a jolt, she awake, opening her green eyes to the sight of Inferno and Strife play-fighting in the center of the room. Beside her, her sister, Jett, slept peacefully. She looked around the room her eyes taking on their eager light once again as the sleepiness fell of her like a cloak. She glanced around the Kitten Den.

North, Jackal, and Talon sat on the cushions scattered on the carpet in the north-eastern corner of the room, by the old window that looked west, towards the downtown area of the town. They were two fortnights old, and Tilt envied them. She was only two weeks old and her world was still blurry. It seemed to dampen her sense of adventure a tiny bit, but she didn't mind bumping into things and learning her way around.

Tilt had learned all the scents of those around her. There was Sky, the mother of Inferno, but she wasn't around anymore. She spent more time on the Outside now. There was Tear. She was the mother of North, Ice, and Jackal. She was really nice to Tilt, helping her around the Kitten Den and telling her of the Outside world. Then there was Maze. She was the mother of Talon, Edge, Strife, and Snake. Maze was a bit aloof, like her son, Strife.

Also, there were Memory, she was a great story teller, and Eternity, a kind soul. Both were expecting and would soon be mothers. And of course, there was Celeste's scent. She was the sweetest smelling of them all. Tilt would never forget her smell. To Tilt, it meant the world.

Slowly, she ambled over to Edge. He was only a day older than she was, and the first day she had come to the Kitten Den, he had wondered over to her. The two had become best friends.
"Edge," she mewed, prodding his side. "Wake up, sleep-head."
"Ehh," the tom moaned groggily, ignoring her.
"Come on, let's go explore!"

{мαy тнe dαy oғ мy вιrтн вe вυrιed ιɴ deep dαrĸɴeѕѕ, ѕнroυded вy тнe ғoɢ, ѕwαllowed вy тнe ɴιɢнт.}

Only a times pan of four weeks had passed, bringing with it in the days, adventure and fun. Tilt was now able to see her world a lot better, as her vision had improved greatly. Though she had grown, she hadn't grown much, and was still, by far, the smallest of the kittens.

Her sister, Jett, had become close friends with Ice and Snake, often leaving the nest of scraps of cloth which she shared with Tilt and Celeste, and going with her friends. She barely talked to Tilt, despite the fact that they were siblings. Tilt felt ignored, and unimportant, her void becoming full of loneliness. Her father and sister seemed to be ashamed of her. Thus, she decided to better herself. She play-fought with the much larger toms, working hard to make herself noticed.

Celeste, having a strange connection to her daughter, saw this, and gave little Tilt, all the encouragement she needed. Tilt had picked up the nicknames such as, Littlebit, Tiny, or Smallpaw, just to name a few. But in the play fights, Tilt began to master her size, using it to her advantage. She became the fastest among the kittens, seeming to fly as she ran. She also became agile, making it easier for her to jump and fit into smaller spaces.

However, hidden from everyone, was the fact that Tilt had acquired the skill for sensing the future. In her dreams, she was often cast into the Void of others, where it held the secrets, and futures of others, whether they would be good, or evil. It disturbed her, at times, it really did. She never did do it intentionally. It just seemed to happen.

Every so often, Tilt would fall back into the darkness of her own Void, and the speech would come to her over and over again. She feared herself, truly she did. She did not know her strengths and weaknesses. This 'gift' aged her, however. Those closest to her felt this. Celeste thought the reason might be because of her father. She urged Shallow to come to the den more often, instead of just sending Sorrow.

Shallow did come. With worry evident within his blue gaze, he conversed with his daughter. He saw how she had aged, not outwardly, but inwardly. Her eyes held great depth; she was filled with wisdom. Every day, Shallow visited her, being drawn to his daughter in an unexplainable way. Every day, he left, wondering to himself, Am I the cause of her growth? Has the lack of my presence done this?

Celeste was fully aware that Tilt would never experience the joy of being a kitten, carefree and blithe. She hardly spoke with another other cats anymore, with an exception of her father, Strife, Edge, and Celeste. Edge worried for his best friend, as he would find her zoned out, with a blank, sometimes wistful look upon her face. These days, she thought more that she spoke.

In Strife, Tilt had found a fellow thinker. She discussed things with him for hours, this larger than them, things larger than their parents, this larger than The Circle. The ginger tom became her closest friend, uprooting Edge and taking his place proudly at her side. The two began to do everything together. Their play-fighting was much more advanced than those of the other kittens, as Tilt taught Strife and herself the combat moves she had picked up on her journeys through the Voids of others.

The other kittens around them often challenged them to fight, but the two refrained themselves from doing so, knowing that their moves were far more advanced than their peers could ever imagine. But the other kittens did not know this, and felt as if they were cowards not to accept their challenge.

One day, Inferno, the largest tom of the group, and the closest to becoming a learner, challenged Tilt. Not a mother was there to stop Inferno's bullying of her, and Edge felt too bitter towards her after being replaced by his brother to care. Strife stepped forward to defend his best friend, challenging Inferno to a fight. Inferno had become belligerent and a blowhard, always starting a fight.

Tilt and Strife, however had become surreptitious, full of guile. Though Strife emerged as susceptible, he was far from it. He, of course beat Inferno, to the awe of their pair, and especially Edge, using moves they had never seen before.

North, the handsome silver tom that resided over them, had become respected among his peers, as he was staunch and percipient. However, he was often complacent, which filled Tilt with dislike for him. Ice was guileless, contumacious, and intrepid, filled with vivacity. She was a natural leader, abiding under North as his second in command.

Jackal was a quiet dynamic tom and Tilt held for him within her a strange benignity. He was full of jollity, making those around him laugh and feel lighter. Snake was quite a wispy thing, despite her name, very gullible, stolid, and all together banal. Edge was a somewhat eccentric tom, garrulous and ebullient in his own right. He was the instigator, always getting into trouble and dragging majority of them with him.

Talon was the insurgent; willful and surly, he stayed away from the rest of them. He was a morose, strident tom and had about him a minatory aura. He was mutinous and egregious, never really paying attention to others. Tilt felt he would be pernicious when he grew older, so she stayed away from him. Then there was Jett. According to Tilt, she was the refulgent, personable type, drawing cats to her with her beauty, her kind eyes and her faddishness. She was disingenuous in her over way, often sweet-talking those who disliked her until they fawned over her.

Strife. He was conniving, really he was. Though he was often cloistered, he was not weak. He was infallible, mendacious, and articulate in his speech. Strife had a prudent manner about him, always thinking things though before his did it. In all veracity, he was as cogent as a mature cat, and never did he fall to the depths of verbosity. He was dogmatic, and astute, perceptive, weighty in everything. Though he was taciturn, he was fervent in learning things intelligible and unintelligible.

Tilt, she had the talent for arresting the attention of those around her, whether they liked it or not. Some showed this by taunting the gaunt she-cat. They eschewed her if possible. Though she was much smarter, wiser than her peers, she did not patronize them, for she was a firm believer in equality. She was quintessential halcyon. She was more into epistemology and erudition that play-fighting. Yet, she became sinewy, growing in mind, strength, and comeliness.

{oн, тυrɴ тнαт ɴιɢнт ιɴтo pυre ɴoтнιɴɢɴeѕѕ—ɴo ѕoυɴdѕ oғ joy ғroм тнαт ɴιɢнт, ever!}