Author's Note: Thundercats, the events concerned, and the characters are all copyright of Tobin "Ted" Wolf, Sam Register, Warner Bros. Animation, Studio 4°C, and any other groups/people that deserve the credit. This is a non-profit work of fanfiction.

Chapter Three: Last Rites

Summary: It's never easy to say goodbye for good. As he stands before Pumyra's funeral pyre, Lion-O feels this truth more keenly than ever.

The Viridian Forest:

The clearing was beautiful, really. Whether by the work of some expedition scouts in times long past, or just a natural coincidence, the maze of trees and foliage drew back far enough to form an expanse of relatively-clear ground, broken up only by the presence of a few heavy rocks and a mossy log or two. The canopy of treetops drew back on all sides like a leafy mouth, revealing the mottled pewter-on-ebon sky that lay beyond. It was wide enough to park an aircraft the size of the Feliner upon.

And by peculiar coincidence, the circumstances had required exactly that.

As Lion-O followed Tygra out of the trees and into the clearing, he reflected that the others – both the Thundercats and those who had joined their resistance – hadn't wasted the time that he'd spent mourning Pumyra. The Feliner sat in the middle of the clearing, perched on its landing skids like some great bird of prey. The campsite had been set up around it, a host of tents and sleeping rolls scattered about at seemingly random. Most of the light came from recently-assembled campfires, their flickering orange glow pushing back against the gloom of an evening where the rain had only just begun to die down.

It was this mist-corona radiance that illuminated the figures of what had become Third Earth's resistance against Mumm-Ra, a disheveled-yet-united band of races from all corners of the world. Cat clansfolk who had survived the fall of Thundera, the tiny and fleeting Petalars, the techno-organic Berbils, the hulking Elephants...all of these and more milled about the campsite, some in groups and others mingling at random.

And yet, as Lion-O and Tygra stepped out of the undergrowth, more than a few of the seemingly-disorganized resistance looked up from what they were doing and watched. Some of them whispered among each other, a few glances were exchanged...and much to Lion-O's surprise, several of them saluted as he and his brother walked by.

"I was expecting a more lukewarm reception, all things considered," he whispered to Tygra. "The Sword of Omens broken, Mumm-Ra still out there…"

Tygra shrugged, his shoulders rolling against the sculpted olive shoulders of his camo suit. "Yeah, well, the Thunderkittens might've been spreading word about how you mortally wounded Mumm-Ra and forced him to run away," he whispered back, a knowing smirk touching his feline features. "I figure that takes the edge off, you know?"

Lion-O couldn't help but chuckle. "Hope springs eternal with those two," he remarked with a rueful half-grin. Then it faded, and his eyes became downcast. "Still...we might just be giving them false hope...

"It's better than no hope at all," Tygra replied firmly. "And it's more than we had a year ago."

That made Lion-O stop in mid-stride, a flicker of uncertainty passing through him as the fog of memory rose up around him. For a moment, it all whirled through his head - Thundera falling to the Lizard horde, the emergence of Mumm-Ra, the search for the Book of Omens, then the Stones, his attempts to master the Sword of Omens, the love triangle between him, Cheetara, and his brother, his own death and resurrection after a battle gone wrong, Pumyra, Mt. Plun-Darr, Avista, the hard work of raising a resistance. All the colorful faces they'd met along the way, the secrets that had been revealed, all the twists the road had taken…

Had it really been a year since all that? "It feels like it was just yesterday," he murmured softly, almost to himself.

The pressure of fingers on his un-armored shoulder, squeezing against the lean muscle beneath his tawny fur, brought him back to reality. Blinking, Lion-O glanced over to his left to find himself meeting his brother's thoughtful gaze. "You sure you're up for this?" Tygra asked quietly, his amber eyes reflecting a sympathetic concern that would've seemed bizarre coming from him a year ago.

Lion-O set his jaw and squared his shoulders. "I'm fine," he said brusquely, trying to ignore the weight in his gut. "I can do this. I…"

Another nudge, this time from his feet, made him look down. A peculiar quadraped of conflicting physiologies - deep maroon scales and a pale yellow underbelly, a tuft of pale fur at the end of their tail, and a feline face set amidst thick fur and whiskers - was rubbing their head against his ankles, jade-green eyes surprisingly emotive as their owner looked up at him. "Snaaarff," came a high-pitched sound somewhere between meow and squeak, somehow sympathetic and reassuring.

A grin touched Lion-O's lips, the first he'd had in what felt like ages. "Yeah, Snarf, I'm sure," he chuckled sadly, reaching down to give his childhood companion a scritch behind their bat-like ears. "Lead the way."

Together, the three of them made their way through the camp, weaving past other members of the resistance. Past flickering campfires, past tents, past stacked supplies. To Lion-O, it seemed to all blend together, with him, Snarf and Tygra both lost in the bustle and the focus of its stares. He glanced at those who had followed him and nodded without quite seeing them, part of him still caught up in his own thoughts. He heard the murmurs here and there, but tried not to tune in too closely. He wasn't sure what they were saying, but he couldn't afford to distract himself with any potential doubt.

Then they were clear of the crowd, walking to the far side of the camp. Through the trees once more, around and past verdant jungle foliage. And then Lion-O, Tygra, and Snarf emerged into another clearing, smaller than the last. A series of branches and small logs had been rounded up and gathered here, stacked and arranged in a series of neat rows to form a funeral pyre. Four glow rods had been taken from the camp, plunged into the ground at each corner of the pyre to bathe its surroundings in artificial torchlight.

It was this pale electric glow that illuminated the others in the clearing. Cheetara stood before the unlit pyre with a torch, its flickering light casting patterns across her golden-yellow mane and spotted fur. Panthro was standing at attention like the seasoned soldier he was, his expression grim as he folded his mechanical arms across his brawny chest. And then there were the Thunderkittens, hanging back at the edge of the clearing - Wily-Kit in her dark blue top and pink-feathered skirt, Wily-Kat in his yellow tunic and black tights. All of them looked over in Lion-O's direction, varying expressions of concern or acknowledgement on their faces.

But most of Lion-O's attention was for the Thundercat lying on the pyre, stretched out in the formal repose of the prepared dead.

You'd almost think she was sleeping, he thought numbly. Pumyra's features had been arranged into an expressionless calm, her eyes still shut from when he'd closed them. If not for the funeral wrappings around her throat - if not for the rust-red stain that coated the gauze, and blended into the rich brown leather of her battle-dress - there'd be no telling the difference. Her hands were clasped over her abdomen, resting on the hilt of the small dagger that had served as her backup weapon.

A warrior's gesture. She would have liked that.

Lion-O wasn't sure whose idea the flowers had been - Wily-Kit, maybe - but scattered around the pyre's edges as they were, their scent was a bittersweet blessing. Unbidden, he was reminded of his first disastrous attempt at courting Pumyra, and his heart twisted in his chest. Part of him wanted to ask everyone to leave, to give him time alone before...before he had to...

Whiskers.

But the others were watching. He was their king, and he knew what was expected of him. Shutting his eyes tightly, Lion-O took a deep breath and let it out. Then another. Finally, he opened his eyes, staring resolutely at Pumyra's corpse.

"Some of you know this already," he said at last, his voice quiet and morose. "Some of you only heard about it after the fact. But I'm explaining anyway, in case there's any doubts."

Lion-O paused for a moment, looking around at the rest of the Thundercats and waiting for them to reply. No one spoke. Tygra and Cheetara merely nodded; Panthro let out a noncommittal grunt; the Thunderkittens huddled a little closer together and leaned forward, as if shaken by Pumyra's corpse but still hanging on their king's every word. And there was Snarf, nudging their head against his ankles as a comforting purring sound rumbled in their throat.

Satisfied by the lack of objections, Lion-O went on. "You all know about Pumyra's betrayal at Avista. How she'd died hating me, and Mumm-Ra resurrected her to act on that hatred. And you know that she fought me at the Observatory of the Ancients. That she ended up turning on Mumm-Ra, and dying a second time for it." He paused here, taking a deep breath. "But what you might not know is why she turned on him. As it turns out, Mumm-Ra didn't just bring Pumyra back to life...he corrupted her. He amplified her hatred and twisted her mind. She was his puppet, and she didn't even know it."

Wily-Kat raised his hand. "So...you're saying Pumyra was really nice all along?" he asked tentatively, the youthful innocence in his voice tempered ever-so-subtly by the challenges of the former slum life he'd shared with his sister.

Once again, Lion-O couldn't suppress a rueful chuckle despite himself. "Well, uh...heh. Not exactly," he admitted. Then he quickly added, "But she wasn't evil, either. Even if she hated my guts, she wouldn't have bent the knee to Mumm-Ra, either. Not of her own free will."

"She was horrified by what she'd done," Cheetara interjected, her ruby eyes intense despite the softness in her voice. "When the Spirit Stone broke the spell on Pumyra's mind...I saw it on her face, when her will was her own again. I heard it in her voice. She'd never wanted it. Any of it."

Lion-O nodded, feeling a deep surge of gratitude towards Cheetara for her support. "And she saved my life," he continued solemnly. "When Mumm-Ra was about to kill me, she shoved me out of the way. It meant leaving herself open; Mumm-Ra was right there with his sword, but she…"

His throat locked up for a moment, and he couldn't finish the sentence. He closed his mouth, took a deep breath, opened it to try again. "She…"

"She saved your life, even though it meant giving hers," Panthro finished for him, a knowing tone in his deep, no-nonsense voice. "She knew the score, and did what any good soldier would." He paused for a moment, and his craggy features softened just a little. "And Pumyra was a good soldier. When the choice was hers again, she did the right thing. That's more than I can say for some that I've known."

Lion-O nodded, recalling Panthro's past with Grune, who'd betrayed the Thundercats of his own free will. "Yeah," he breathed, his voice tight with emotion. "Whatever else she was, Pumyra did the right thing in the end." He paused, looking around at the others. "That's why I'm giving her a warrior's funeral. But if anyone here thinks it's the wrong call…"

He waited for any objections. None came. Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he held out his hand.

"All right, then...the torch, please."

Silently, Cheetara handed Lion-O the torch she'd been carrying. Their eyes met for a moment, the former's gaze sympathetic, and the young king was reminded of how she'd had his back when he was first starting out. Sometimes he still felt a lingering sense of bittersweet longing, that old unrequited crush twisting in its gut...but after all that had happened since, he'd been able to put his hurt feelings behind him, and she'd forgiven his outburst at the height of his heartbreak.

He'd lost Cheetara's heart to Tygra. But he still had her support. Perhaps even her friendship. And more than ever, he understood the value of both.

Shaking his head inwardly, Lion-O inspected the torch. It had been a particularly thick branch that had been broken off a tree - perhaps even as recently as the storm; the rough wood felt damp beneath his fingers. One end had been wrapped in oil-soaked rags and set alight; a steady plume of fire, bright yellow at its base and becoming a flickering tongue of deep orange, danced around its head. Feeling its heat radiating off his fur, Lion-O looked over to the funeral pyre.

One touch. That's all it would take. The dry timber would go up in seconds, consumed by flame.

And Pumyra with it.

Lion-O swallowed, his throat feeling tight all of a sudden. For a moment, it felt as though he were back in time, back in the ruins of Thundera and standing before his father's corpse once more. The torch felt impossibly heavy in his hand, the finality of its purpose an iron weight. His eyes stung suddenly, and he felt himself rooted to the spot, not wanting to step forward. Nor to perform the last rite. Part of him wanted to hand the torch back to Cheetara and ask her to do it, or to ask the other Thundercats to leave the clearing.

But he was Lord of the Thundercats. And even if he hadn't been king, he owed Pumyra that much. Inhaling sharply, Lion-O approached the pyre, holding the torch aloft as he gazed down at the fallen she-cat's lifeless body.

"Pumyra of Thundera," he said at last, his voice sounding more steady and even than he'd dared to hope for. "A dark shadow hangs over your memory. Our chief history with you was one of deception and betrayal. How you sided with Mumm-Ra, stole the Tech Stone, and let the Bird clan capital - Avista - fall."

He paused, setting his jaw as he pushed those hurtful memories aside. "But we can't forget that it wasn't all your fault," he added firmly. "Mumm-Ra corrupted you. He enslaved your thoughts with dark magic. But he couldn't erase your true self, not completely. The moment your mind was your own again, you rebelled against him. You saved my life. You gave me a fighting chance. And in the end…"

Lion-O's voice faltered, his throat going tight again. Aware of the others watching him, he took another deep breath. Let it out slowly, his sigh filling the clearing. And then he went on. "In the end, you were a true daughter of Thundera. You were fierce, and brave, and…"

Another pause, as he swallowed hard. And beautiful, he'd wanted to say, but that wouldn't do. Not in front of the others.

"...And no matter what," he finished instead, "That's how I'll always remember you."

His eyes stinging again, Lion-O looked down at Pumyra. She was beautiful, even in death. Desperate to hold off what was coming, he tried to think of something else to add. Anything else he could say in her memory. But...whiskers, what else could he say? What could he say that he hadn't said already? What else could he say that Cheetara and Panthro hadn't said for him?

There was nothing. All too quickly, the moment he'd been trying to put off had arrived. His breath going shaky, Lion-O let his gaze linger on Pumyra's lifeless features, knowing it was for the last time.

Soon enough, the torch would fall. Soon enough, her beauty would be lost to the flames forever.

A grief-stricken numbness sweeping over him, the young king reached out to cup Pumyra's face gently with his free hand, the armored claws on the Gauntlet of Omens stroking her cheek one last time. His sky-blue eyes lingered on her visage, peaceful in death, committing this last glimpse of her to memory as best he could.

"Rest now to rise again, Pumyra," Lion-O said quietly, his voice almost breaking as he lowered the torch. "May your next life show you peace."

And in that moment, new light flared to life in the clearing.

But not from a fire.

"Lion-O, Lion-O!" Wily-Kit burst out, eyes wide as she pointed frantically. "Look!"

But Lion-O was already staring. Not at the torch, whose blazing head had been stopped just shy of igniting Pumyra's funeral pyre, but at his other hand - the one still cupping the fallen Thundercat's cheek. At the Gauntlet of Omens, which encased his left forearm in golden-hued armor. At the pale pink jewel that had been set into the star-forged alloy, a gleaming ovoid gemstone that was far more than mere ornament.

At the steady, pulsing glow of the Spirit Stone, its radiance bathing Pumyra's face in rose` light.

The following few seconds were filled with a stunned silence. Then, as if some signal had been given, a volley of overlapping exclamations filled the clearing as the rest of the Thundercats came forward at once, joining Lion-O at Pumyra's side and staring at the glowing light that had enveloped the Gauntlet of Omens.

"Okay, I'll bite," Panthro remarked, looking unusually impressed as he glanced between the Spirit Stone and its owner. "What're you doing, exactly?"

"I don't-I'm not-this isn't me!" Lion-O stammered, his mind reeling. " I mean...I don't think, anyway."

"Interesting," Cheetara mused as she leaned in close to take a better look, her ruby eyes thoughtful as she ran a slender finger over the surface of the Gauntlet of Omens. "I wonder…"

Tygra looked over at her in surprise. "You know what's going on?"

Cheetara pursed her lips. "Possibly. As crazy as it sounds…"

"Ooh! I think I get it!" Wily-Kit chimed in, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. " I think the Spirit Stone's trying to bring Pumyra back!"

There was another moment of stunned silence as everyone turned to stare at the younger Thundercat, their expressions ranging from incredulity to astonishment as the implications behind her words sank in. Then there was a startled yelp from Snarf, who had plucked up a stick in their forepaws to push Lion-O's torch away from the funeral pyre, only for the stick itself to catch ablaze.

"I mean, it happened before," Wily-Kit said defensively, even as Snarf began blowing hurriedly on their burning stick. "Remember what happened to you, Lion-O?"

Lion-O could only nod. "Kind of hard to forget something like that," he remarked with a hollow chuckle, the memory of that fateful battle a year ago rising up unbidden. The cold, crushing embrace of the river that he'd plunged into, its icy wetness engulfing him and flooding his lungs. The ethereal unreality of the afterlife, and the phantom replicas of his fellow Thundercats who had appeared to test his worth for a second chance. The pulsing rush of the Spirit Stone as it brought him back just in time to turn the tide against Mumm-Ra.

All of it had seemed unbelievable, impossible...and yet, Lion-O had lived through it. Or rather, he'd died...and then come back to life.

"See? I bet it's doing the same thing here!" Wily-Kit went on, beaming with youthful confidence. "Pumyra died saving you, so I'll bet the Stone decided she deserved a second chance!"

Lion-O looked back at Pumyra's body, his gauntlet-clad hand still cradling her lifeless cheek. "Maybe," he breathed, his heart now hammering in his chest. It was a long shot, maybe even a fool's hope...and yet, despite himself, he wondered if the impossible was going to happen again.

Wily-Kat leaned past his sister to get a better look, the rose-pink light from the Spirit Stone reflecting in his curious yellow eyes. "Okay, so how long is that gonna take?" He asked.

Silence reigned again as the Thundercats shared questioning glances. No one spoke. Then, one by one, they all turned to look at their leader.

"...I'm not really sure," Lion-O admitted defensively, his claw-tipped fingers raking through his short red mane as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't exactly keeping track of time back then, okay?" Pausing, he added, "Not to mention I had to work for it. By the time I passed the spirit world's trials and came back, I had to follow Wily-Kit's markers to catch up to you."

Tygra winced. "Right. I mean, as far as we knew, you were…well..."

"Technically, I was," Lion-O finished for him with a rueful half-smirk.

"The point being, this is gonna take a while" Panthro cut in gruffly. "And that's assuming that the magic mystery rock's doing what we think it's doing." He paused, lifting a craggy brow at his king. "Any ideas on how to clear that up? Or are we just going to wait here with you standing vigil until the world ends?"

Lion-O bristled at the former general's remark. What, was he supposed to leave Pumyra when there was, against all odds, a chance to save her? He opened his mouth, about to give voice to that thought-

"Not necessarily."

-And blinked as his retort was cut off before it had even begun. Bewildered, he glanced over at Cheetara, who was still engrossed in studying the Gauntlet of Omens and the light it cast over Pumyra's body. "Uh...come again?"

Cheetara looked up from the Gauntlet, a thoughtful look on her face. "Based on what you told us, I would've said that the Spirit Stone could only revive its wielder," she mused, tapping the gem in question with a slender finger for emphasis. "But if my hunch is right, your contact with Pumyra while wearing it created a link between her soul and yours. There might be a loophole there."

Lion-O glanced at the Spirit Stone, and the shimmering patterns of rose-pink light it cast over his gauntlet-clad arm. "So it really does come down to holding Pumyra's hand and waiting?"

Cheetara bit her lip, her expression pensive. "There might be another option," she replied. "There's this spell, you see...the Trance of Innermost Reflection. I never saw it performed, but Jaga taught me about it during my training. Supposedly, higher-level Clerics could immerse themselves in a deep trance, projecting themselves into their own subconscious. This helped them discover hidden truths about themselves for the sake of enlightenment."

"Sounds handy for a mystic," Tygra remarked, looking interested. "But how's a meditation technique going to help us here?"

Cheetara glanced over at him. "Well, if I'm right about the link between Lion-O and Pumyra, I could try altering the spell a little," she explained, gesturing between the two of them for emphasis. "I'd make the Spirit Stone the focal point, instead of Lion-O's mind. That way, the Trance would connect him to the spirit world instead of his own thoughtscape. From there…"

Lion-O couldn't help himself. "So you're saying you could send me after Pumyra?" he asked, his voice almost shaky with hope. "That...I could bring her back?"

Cheetara pursed her lips, her expression thoughtful. "In theory...yes."

Lion-O felt his gut tighten at the pause in her reply. "There's a 'but' to this, isn't there?"

Cheetara nodded apologetically. "You have to remember, I've only studied the Trance of Innermost Reflection," she explained. "I've never actually performed it, much less modified it like this. Theoretically, it should work, but I can't tell you for sure. And even if it does…" She trailed off, her slender brows furrowing with concern.

Lion-O gave her a questioning look. "And even if it does…?" he prompted, though he had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer.

Cheetara bit her lip reluctantly as if worried about his reaction. "Lion-O, we're talking about projecting your spirit into limbo," she said at last. "I should be able to keep your soul anchored to your body, but it's still a big risk. There's no telling what could go wrong. And if anything happens to you in that state..." She paused, her ruby feline eyes catching the light from the glow rods as she met his gaze meaningfully.

"Then you won't be coming back."

TO BE CONTINUED...

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

A few months instead of a few years! I'm getting better at updates! XD

Fun Fact 1: My original take on this story involved just the Thundercats at the base camp, but then I re-considered. Based on the events of "What Lies Above," and the producers' testimony about where the series would go from there, it seems that all those other clanfolk that gathered for the battle would be following the Thundercats from that point onward. Hence the larger base camp. The resistance has begun!

Fun Fact 2: For those who remember the first few episodes, you might remember the words Lion-O speaks to Pumyra. They're taken from when Lion-O and Tygra give King Claudus a warrior's funeral in canon. See, I figure the funeral pyre and symbol carving were the sort of ritual reserved for warrior's and/or heroes in Thundercat culture. With her final act of atonement, Pumyra became both in Lion-O's eyes.

Fun Fact 3: Yes, I know that technically, the Spirit Stone kicked in immediately during Lion-O's death in "The Trials of Lion-O." Yes, I know that in this story, it's been a few hours since Pumyra's death. And yes, I'm keeping that in mind for the next chapter; there's a few factors that haven't been revealed yet. Hey, do you want Pumyra to have any hope of coming back or not?

As always, likes, kudos, criticism, and any commentary you can spare are always welcome. Feedback is a writer's bread and milk, after all!