~The Power~

Echo didn’t have to listen for pawsteps or scent the air to know Feather was behind him. He swung around before she was even two cerrien-lengths away.

Thorn was utterly silent, while Thistle was grumbling under his breath.

“I’ll be at the Schooling Cave in a while to pick them up,” was all Feather said before she ushered her kittens forward and turned to leave. Echo wondered briefly if she had left the meeting early to fetch Thistle. He wasn't at the meeting. Does she really not care about the murders?

“Rude!” Inferno snorted when she was out of earshot. He turned to Echo. “Why don’t you ever say anything to her?”

“A little rude gesture like that is nothing.”

Inferno rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. You should’ve reported her ages ago.” He lowered his voice to a grumble. “Apparently I’m not qualified to, no matter how many times I’ve tried. My parents’ report was taken more seriously, and even that barely did anything.”

“They’re advisors, Inferno. You’re just a random cerrien to them, and—in the grand scheme of things—so am I. I don’t see how my attempt will be any different. It's not fair, but it's unfortunately the way things work here.” I probably wouldn’t succeed without consequence if I tried! She’d rip me to bits and send me to the Winter Food Cave to freeze to death!

Spire looked at their paws in uncertainty.

Echo fumbled for an excuse to break the tension. “We should leave—before we end up being late.”

Inferno tipped his head to one side. “My point still stands. I’m worried.”

“Don’t be.” Echo touched his nose to his. “There’s enough going on right now.”

Inferno narrowed his eyes. “Bye, then.” He nodded towards Spire. “Have fun at your medic class.”

Spire blinked as though they had been plunged out of thought. “Uh—yeah. Thanks.”

“I hope you feel better,” Echo called to Inferno as his friend turned and exited the clearing.

Thorn and Thistle bounded ahead, Echo and Spire following closely behind them. Their paws crunched upon the growing amount of leaves drifting onto the ground and concealing the grass.

“You know, you should really do something about this whole Feather thing,” Spire said. “Try talking to her—make her understand how much she’s hurting you. She’s basically your mother.”

You sound like Inferno. Echo gazed ahead to make sure the kittens weren't listening in, but the little cerriens appeared preoccupied with the leaves flitting down, in-reach of their tiny claws. “Even if we were related by blood, it means nothing. Feather will never listen to me. She’ll give me a long lecture about how she knows better, or even punish me further than that. Even with that aside, she served as a member of the Court. She’s older, physically stronger, and was the partner of a defender. I’m just some cerrien. I don’t stand a chance.”

Spire shuddered. “I—guess that’s true…”

If anything, I’m the last cerrien she’ll ever listen to. I’m barely her kitten. I don’t even think I ever was.

A loud, yet high-pitched growl disrupted his thoughts. Thistle had pinned a leaf to the ground and was preparing to rip into it like it were a juicy rabbit.

"Thistle, stop fooling around," Echo said. "We don't want to be late."

"Yeah, Thitsle!" Thorn swiped one paw playfully over his brother's ear. "The sooner we get to school, the sooner we'll get to the part when we learn how to hunt and fight!"

Thistle leaped away from his prey. "Right!" He turned and continued ahead in a trot.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Thorn quickened his pace to catch up.

"Yes!"

A pang of anxiety arose in Echo's throat. Two kittens running around and bickering would be perfect prey for a killer prowling around. "Both of you, keep your voices down. Any cerrien here trying to hunt won't catch anything if you're too loud."

"Sorry, Echo." Thorn glanced over his shoulder apologetically.

"Did you hear what cerriens were saying at the end of the meeting?" Spire asked in a low voice. "There might be a Spirit-Watcher!"

Echo's ears twitched. "It's only estimations. There hasn't been any signs."

"But what if signs start appearing? Then we can find out who the murderer is and everything will go back to the way it was!"

"Don't get too excited."

"I know, I know! But imagine how cool it would be if we got to see a Spirit-Watcher here in Moorest in our lifetimes!"

"I guess it would be cool if we were able to see a cerrien who could talk to ghosts."

"But think about it! The Spirit-Watcher is the most powerful cerrien in Fintaria!" Spire's eye widened. "That's a lot of power for one cerrien, isn't it?"

"Being able to see ghosts?"

"More than that! Everyone talks about the Spirit-Watcher! everyone adores them! When something goes wrong, the Spirit-Watcher is the one consulted to help."

Even if the problem has nothing to do with ghosts?

"The Spirit-Watcher has the capacity to hold all the knowledge of Fintaria!"

"Wouldn't it be the super old ghosts that would receive the credit for that?"

"In the Spirit World, maybe. But here, any knowledge from the spirits comes from the Spirit-Watcher! Think about it! What if a spirit with the ability to see into the future or something could tell the Spirit-Watcher what's going to happen?"

The sights of last night's time-travel resurfaced in Echo's mind. The Spirit-Watcher didn't actually do anything. It was the ghost that came to him to pass along the information. "Then that's the work of the future-seeing ghost, not the Spirit-Watcher."

Spire let out a long sigh. "You don't get it! This isn't about who gets all the power. This is about what that power can be used for!"

"No, I think I do get it. The Spirit-Watcher is important because of the ability to gain knowledge from ghosts when necessary. What I'm saying is that the Spirit-Watcher, who they are, doesn't matter in this situation. Anyone can listen to what a ghost has to say. But the ghost is the one giving the information. Surely they're the ones with the most power of what knowledge is given and what's kept secret. A Spirit-Watcher could also determine that, too, but it would be up to the ghost on whether or not they give the Spirit-Watcher the opportunity."

Spire tipped their head to one side. It was a few moments before they answered. "I guess you have a point." Their tail swished. "But it still would be incredibly helpful if a Spirit-Watcher showed their face here. You have to admit that."

Echo nodded. "It would be, but it's unlikely. What should be focused on right now is what we can do, not what some other cerrien—who might not even exist right now—can do."

Soon the four cerrien made it to the Schooling Cave, where guardians and their kittens were already murmuring from inside. A line of sentries blocked the wide opening, their gazes turning to the newest arrivals. A reddish-brown cerrien with black paws slipped past the guards and met the newcomers half a leap’s distance from the entrance.

“Greetings.” The brown cerrien lowered her head to give the kittens a quick sniff. “Are you here for the next lesson of our kitten-range course?”

Echo nodded. “These are Thistle and Thorn. Feather’s kittens.”

“Alright. Due to current events, you must stay with the kittens for the duration of the lesson. Now, please go in and take your seats. The class will be starting soon.” The cerrien turned away and signaled for two guards to create an opening that the cerriens could pass through.

Echo led the kittens inside, sweeping his tail when Thistle didn’t immediately follow him. The cave was lit with the colors of many cerriens’ eyes, horns, and spikes, as well as the rays of the sun dashing through the wide gap. Many tunnels branched off to separate class chambers, and Spire turned to one in the back labeled Basic Medical Training in claw-marks scored on the wall.

“Bye,” Spire mewed. “Good luck with your powers, Echo!” They waved their tail in farewell and disappeared into the small crowd around them.

Echo forced his fur flat. No need to bring that up so loudly!

The Kitten-Range: Fintaria’s History and Cultures class chamber was closer to the front. Inside, flat stones were scattered around where some were already seated.

“Can we sit at the front?” Thistle begged.

Echo’s pelt lifted along his spine. Should I really be sitting at the front if I’m going to time-travel? The teacher would definitely notice! Besides, Inferno told me once it’s almost unsettling to see a cerrien sitting perfectly still with blank eyes. He suppressed a shudder. The middle would be better. Then I would blend into the crowd. “No, Thistle. If I know anything about you, I know you’ll end up disrupting the teacher.”

“But I wont!” Thistle stomped one small, gray paw.

“Yeah, you will!” Thorn piped.

“Fine! I guess I’ll sit somewhere else!” Thistle charged ahead to a row in the center and bounced onto one of the stones near the middle. Echo settled himself between the two kittens, fidgeting on the hard rock until he found himself comfortable enough to tuck his paws beneath him and curl his tail around his slender body.

“Hello, class!” The teacher trotted to the front where a map of Fintaria—drawn with thick, intricately-marked white scratches—spanned across the wall. “Welcome to the session. Today we are going to continue our discussion on Moorest’s…”

Echo shut his eyelids. Would it be better to close my eyes or leave them open? If he closed them, he might be mistaken as simply a bored adult forced to attend a kitten’s lesson. But on the other paw—it wasn’t exactly respectful to appear asleep in public, either. Some strict parent might try to single him out. Or worse—Feather might come in and scold me for “sleeping” and then get even more furious once she realizes I’m time-traveling!

His paws itched beneath him. Was this really a good idea? He sighed. What would Spire say if Echo told them he had been too nervous? Or I could say it simply didn't work, but that would only lead to more questions!

He let his mind wander for a while. Was there even a way to time-travel on command? It happens all the time when I sit still for long enough. Perhaps all he had to do was wait. But all he could focus on was the garrulous speech of the teacher.

“…Our tribe was the first to exist, and since then, many others…”

Maybe this really had been a mistake. It's never going to work.

“…Scorpoterria has since tried to prove they are just as strong as us to make up for…”

This is pointless! Still, he remained deathly still with his eyes clenched shut.

After what felt like days of eternal motionlessness, the ground abruptly fell before his paws, leaving Echo flying through seemingly nothing. There was no sensation of air despite the distance whooshing sound. He let out a gasp, but there was no response. I’m gone. His paws thrashed and his tail whipped in all directions—until the terror was broken by a voice.

“Commander Starlight, what is that?”

Echo opened his eyes to find himself in the Hatchery—the hollow sheltered by many thick bushes and shrubs. Sunlight weaved over and under branches, pouring onto the endless span of earth and scattered nests. Although he was crouched upon the floor, his paws sensed none of the earthy soil, and his pelt was not stirred by the breeze that rustled the leaves.

Feather was sitting upright in a nest off to one side, a green and brown egg beside her and half concealed by her thick fur. A dark purplish-gray cerrien with fur filled with wisps of blue and pink, speckled with white, stood just outside the nest. She was gently rolling forward an egg splotched with a large, slightly-faded, stain of brown. The imperfection disturbed the beautiful light blue swirls on the rest of the shell. Feather’s wide head was lowered as she studied the object.

“A cerrien egg,” Starlight reported, “found in the northern part of the forest. Our scouting parties couldn’t find any parents anywhere. They searched along both borders. There wasn’t even any odd scent.”

Echo took in a sharp inhale of air as he realized what time this was.

Feather eyes were widened, flashing with some sort of intense emotion, but a single blink cast away whatever she was thinking.

“They’re probably dead,” Starlight continued. “You shall take care of the egg.”

Feather slitted her eyes half-closed, and her tail began to twitch. In a few long moments she merely stared at the egg, though once more her inner thoughts remained a mystery.

At last she blinked once more. “Alright.” Something else flashed in her eyes. Something distinct—yet an emotion Echo couldn’t quite describe. It almost looked like…Anger? Fear? What reason did Feather have to be afraid?

“It has a big, strange stain on it,” Starlight commented. “We tried washing it in the stream, but we couldn’t get it fully off. It’d be a weird marking to come on the egg, wouldn’t it? It looks so unpleasant next to that dazzling blue.”

A flash of gold across the den caught both Starlight and Echo’s attention. Bright was situated in a scoop of moss, giving Starlight a look.

“Huh,” said Feather absently. Her intense gaze never wavered from the egg.

Echo watched Starlight plopped the egg into Feather’s nest and left the den. He found himself searching for a hint of compassion in that light green gaze, the slightest intimation of a mother who wanted anything to do with the tiny life growing within the fragile shell, but Feather merely lowered her large, furry head into the nest, her face stolid.

Echo pushed away disappointment and made space only for reality. She hates you. Stop wasting time in a fantasy world where she doesn’t.

In the nest beside Feather’s, Echo saw the bright golden pelt of Bright. She was curled around a pinkish-orange egg and a newly-hatched kitten Inferno, his fur only now starting to fluff up.

“That egg is lucky that Starlight found it,” Bright said. “I wonder where it came from.”

Feather huffed.

“Are you okay?” Bright’s gaze wavered from the egg and then back to Feather. “Look, I’m not asking for this egg to be…a replacement of the one you lost. It even looks kinda similar, but…”

Feather lost an egg before I came? Echo flailed through the fog of his mind, fumbling to piece the events of the story together.

Bright sighed. “Do you want me to take it?”

“No!” Feather suddenly sat bolt upright, her thick fur bushed out. Bright flinched, and the tiny dark brown bundle at her side let out a shrill squeak, his tiny orange ear tufts erupting into a little display of light. Echo slinked around the edge of the den warily. Was that fear in Feather’s gaze?

After a heartbeat, Feather let out a long sigh, lowering herself into the moss while Bright tucked the little kitten Inferno back towards her warm flank. “No. I’ll raise it.”

“Are you sure?”

Feather only stared back at her.

Bright’s expression reflected Echo’s own puzzlement. Feather hated him—so why was she so adamant? And why did she look so scared?

Echo waited with dismay for himself to be snapped back into the real world. Yet instead, flashes swarmed through his eyes until he made out strange blobs of colored light. A forest opened up before him, the sun low against the pine trees so that much of what lay ahead of him was tinged with a blue from his glowing eyes.

Bright white, vertical eyes shone through the trees. Echo’s night vision adjusted to the gloom, and soon he could make out the misty body of a creature, but it was pitch black, its form undefined in shape and its edges lapping the air like a hungry black flame, only vaguely resembling a cerrien.

The eyes gleamed as the figure rushed forward.

Vicious yowls and cries sounded from nearby. At once Echo whipped around and fled, veering around lush bushes and tall trees. Still, no wind cut across his face or pinned his ears back to his head. His heart pounded in his ears. What is that?

Echo dove down a needle-strewn slope and veered off to one side. But soon his paws could carry him no more. He halted, swiveling his ears as the distant wails gradually died away. A few yellow rays filtered through the leaves and tree trunks as the sun crept past the tree line from a row of lighter deciduous trees across a stream.

I must be in Maliterria, and that’s Moorest across the stream!

Echo didn’t dare glance behind, instead surveying the land ahead and at either side. But something just near the sound of the rushing water halted Echo’s scan: limp cerrien bodies. Two of them: one light gray, almost white, and one white and brown. Dark, scarlet blood covered their fur and pooled in the grass, staining it crimson. Their eyes were dimmed, the light of them burned out like an extinguished flame, leaving only cloudy smoke in their depths.

Great Fintaria...

The dark figure emerged from the bushes, eyes still gleaming with that unsettling white glare.

“Go away!” Echo hissed.

The figure leaped forward. Echo backed away a step with a hiss. But the cerrien shifted itself upright, white eyes almost puzzled. Echo moved another step back, preparing for this creature to pounce at him with claws extended, but it merely sat there.

“What—?” Echo began.

The undergrowth swished as two more cerriens emerged from the trees, passing Echo and the shadowy cerrien without sparing even a glance at them.

One of them—brown and orange—sniffed the pelt of the white cerrien body.

“Scorpoterrians,” she murmured. “Dead.”

“Scorpoterrians?” The gray second cerrien narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. These cerriens have large ears and long legs, and look at the tufts of fur on their paws. They smell like them, too.”

“But that’s impossible! No Scorpoterrian could ever make it this far!”

“Either way, we should get out of here. Now. Whoever killed them has to be incredibly dangerous if these are Scorpoterrians!”

The gray cerrien whipped her tail. “You’re probably right.”

“Wait! I hear voices!”

There was a third voice from across the stream. Moorestians.

“Maliterrians are right at our border!”

A fourth voice. “So? That’s still their territory.”

“But we should report them to Commander Aspen.”

Aspen? Echo blinked. Had he been the Commander? He concentrated, guilt singeing his pelt like flames as he realized just how little he knew about his adopted father. Starlight would have had to be off-duties when she had Spire’s egg to watch over. He must have taken her place during that time. And that must mean this is around the time my egg was found.

“Report them for existing in their territory?” There was the swish of a tail. “Let’s move on.” Retreating pawsteps.

He kept his gaze away from the dead cerriens, but the reek of blood was sucked into his nose nonetheless, as though taunting him.

“What happened to those cerriens?” Echo asked the shadowy cerrien. Was it worth asking this uncanny figure?

“Echo! Hey, Echo!”

A paw poked Echo in the side.

Echo snapped back to the present with a start.

“Class is over!” Thistle squeaked.

Thorn caught Echo’s gaze.

“Did you find out who did it?” Thorn demanded.

Echo backed away, nearly falling backwards off his seat as his brothers seemed to press around him. At least the other class attendees were leaving, chattering amongst themselves and seemingly unconcerned with him. He sucked in a breath from deep in his stomach, letting it out with a long, soft sigh.

Where’s Spire?

“Come on.” He led the kittens out of the class chamber and spotted Spire hurrying towards them from a group huddled just outside one of the cave openings.

“Did it work?” Spire lifted their tail hopefully.

“I—no.” He lowered his voice. “I saw two bodies in Maliterria—Scorpoterrians. It was from a while ago, probably three years.” He shuddered.

Was that really what death looks like? He couldn’t rid the image of the corpses from his mind. It looked like all the life had been sucked from their gazes! Is that what Bramble and Aspen looked like too? Or Coal? Or the other two cerriens that were murdered? He closed his eyes, shutting the images from his head. It’s over now. And they have nothing to do with Moorest.