Sparks of Fire

Come on, Flye, just a bit further, I tell myself as I run through the forest.

I’m covered in cuts and gashes, and I have a knife wound on my arm that is bleeding freely. My clothes are so torn up that they barely cover my body.

Running hard isn’t helping, and switching between my two forms isn’t any good, either.

The trees start to thin, and I come to a clearing with a shallow river running through it. I walk over to it and sink down gratefully, letting my feet trail in the cool water. I lie down on the bank and close my eyes, trying to regain my breath.

A voice carried on the wind makes my ears flicker.

“Ow!” It cries.

I scent the air; human. My eyes open in alarm. Can’t a Recognised get any rest around here?

Groaning, I sit up, my tail flicking into my lap.

“Where is the damn river,” the voice snarls, I hope to itself.

Panic flares in my chest as my keen cat ears pick up the muffled thud of footsteps.

Oh no! What am I to do now? I scan my surrounds quickly. The river is the best escape route, I think.

I stand up and start to walk down the river, picking my way through the knee high water carefully.

The sound of footsteps coming closer makes me freeze. When they stop, automatically, I continue.

I can feel something trickling down my head, and, thinking its sweat, I wipe at my face. Pulling my hand away, I get a glimpse of red on my fingers and find out I’m bleeding.

Great, a head wound!

Suddenly there is a strange sound behind me.

I whirl around to see a human standing on the bank where I had just been, staring at me with wide eyes.

My tail drops into the water, my ears fall, and my body goes rigid. I lurk forward and slip on a rock, falling under the water. I hit my head on a rock. Darkness closes over me, and I know … I’m dead.

My eyes blink open.

I’m in a dimly lit room with no windows. There are a few shelves on the walls filled with books, and a desk in the corner of the room with papers and allsorts of things all over it. The floor is bare, compact dirt.

I’m bound to a wooden table by ropes around my ankles and wrists.

A creaking sound alerts me and I freeze.

To my utter astonishment a human face leans over mine. Wavy chestnut coloured hair swirls around his face, framing large dark blue eyes, a sweet smile and a cute nose. A sprinkle of freckles covers his nose and cheekbones, making him look younger than I’m sure he really is. He is good looking, but not drop-dead gorgeous. It’s the one from the river!

 “Hi,” he says.

I try to claw at his face. “Why am I tied to the table,” I snarl, trying again to lash out at the human.

“For that reason,” he says calmly, not flinching as I try to lash out again.      

Watching the human as he inspects my wounds, I notice that I’m wearing different clothes.

“Why am I wearing,” I indicate the crop-top and leggings with disgust, “these?”

The human blushes. “I … had to change your clothes … so I could treat your wounds,” he stammers.

I roll my eyes. “Why are you healing me?”

His features soften. “Because of what your kind has done for me,” he says, looking down.

My kind? My kind is a race of creatures called Recognised. We have two forms; one is our cat form witch is of many different colours and patterns, and the second form, the one I’m in now, is a human-like one.

What makes us stand out is that we still have our tails protruding from out tail bones. Instead of human ears, our furry cat ones sit on top of our heads. Our eyes never change; with the vivid colours and the slitted pupil all felines have. We also have fangs; our canines poke out from under our top lip. Most of us also have claws that can be sheathed and unsheathed, just like a normal cat’s.

Recognised are meant to have been extinct for over one thousand years. We’re not, we only went into hiding.

I don’t know why we hid ourselves; the meaning is lost in time, but I know we are believed to have disappeared off the face of Raksha, our planet.

If a human is sighted, it is either watched or killed. But if a human sees a Recognised, there is no hesitation; the human dies.

And that is how I’ve grown up, yet here I am, tied to a table having my wounds treated by a bloody human!

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” I mutter.

“Half dead?” The human tuts, shaking his head.

“I’m a Warrior!” I snarl.

“How old are you?” He asks.

“I’m not –” I stop when he glances at me. “Fifteen,” I answer through clenched teeth.

“Hmm,” the boy begins. “Well, when I was little, I was saved by a Recognised Warrior.”

My eyes widen in surprise, and I stop a sarcastic snarl from leaving my mouth.

“I was young, maybe six or seven, when I stumbled onto a man who looked very much like you. He had golden hair and bright yellow eyes. He spared my life, and that’s ho I first knew Recognised weren’t extinct.” The boy smiles at me.

My mouth opens in shock. Golden mane with yellow eyes! My father!

“I wonder whose eyes he meant,” the boy continues.

My thoughts whirl around, threatening to overwhelm me.

After a long silence, the boy suddenly breaks from his reverie. “I’m Jayson, by the way.”

I narrow my eyes angrily. “I suppose you want to know my name too?”

He nods, “That would be nice, yes.”

I let a growl rumble in my throat before answering. “Flye, my name is Flye.”

The next few weeks go by slowly. Jayson brings me food and water twice a day, once early in the morning, the next near the afternoon to question me about my life. I answer honestly, unless the questions get to personal; ceremonies and that sort of thing.

I learn that Jayson is sixteen, living by himself isolated from the local village, in a mud-brick house. I’m situated in his study room where he studies healing.

When he’d come into the room the second time, he’d be covered in leaves and twigs.

He’d untie my arms and let me pick the leaves from his hair to play with, because apparently cats love playing with leaves. But I will never admit to him that I do. Nor will I admit I’ve grown fond of him.

After he would ask me about my life, and I about his, he’d leave and not return until the next day.

But this morning, I wake up on my own accord, not from the creaking of the door.

Something’s wrong! I smell the air and my body goes rigid.

Smoke and lots of it! And where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

The only thing I’m afraid of is fire; the reason I’m tied to this stupid table.

I unsheathe my claws and start to cut at the ropes around my wrists. When they snap, I try to jump off the table. Remembering that my legs are still tied up, I fall to the ground.

“Stupid table!” I yowl, cutting the ropes.

I get up and look around frantically.

The door Jayson goes through is thick and there are no cracks, so the smoke can’t come through too thick.

I almost expect Jayson to come in and tell me that the fire-place chimney is blocked. I quash the thoughts instantly.

Spotting all my weapons on the ground, I rush over to them.

I might as well put them on, because if I escape, I won’t have to worry about weaponry. I clip on my arm and leg harnesses, each holding a dagger. I then pick up my belt and put it on. The knife that is usually in its scabbard is missing, but a quick assessment of the room shows that Jayson had put it on his table, probably studying it.

I find one of Jayson’s tunics and put it on.

I run over to the door and unbar it. The door creaks open. The rooms in front of me are blazing with fire, and my body goes cold.

I slam the door closed and lean against it.

“This is bad,” I sob, “this is really bad.”

Clenching my fists and flattening my ears, I turn around and open the door.

“I am a Warrior!” I scream into the flames. “Nothing scares me, you hear? Nothing!”

I change into my cat form and look around. I have absolutely no idea where to go, but that isn’t stopping me.

“Flye!” I hear a voice faintly above the roaring fire.

I run in the direction I’m sure it came from until I come to what looks like the kitchen.

When I stop, my paws burning, and my fur singed in places where I’d run through fire, I hear the voice again, more clear and distinct.

“Flye!”

Looking around, I spot a window that looks like it leads outside. The roof above heaves, ready to come crashing down.

Realization hits me hard; if I don’t jump through that window now, the roof will collapse, and I’ll die.

I back up against the burning wall and run at the window. I jump, pushing off a bench, and smashing through the window just as the roof comes crashing down behind me.

I roll across the ground in a blur of white, smoke rising from my burnt fur.

When I stop, I try to get up, but my lids drop over my pristine blue eyes and blackness enfolds me again.

I wake with a start. A fire is crackling in a fireplace, throwing around specks of golden light. I take a deep breath through my nostrils, scenting the air.

“You should have been up ages ago,” someone says smugly.

“Why?” I ask hesitantly.

“Jayson’s left already,” they walk into my sight, and stop in front of the couch, arms folded. A man that looks very similar to Jayson is standing before me.

“Oh,” I say in a small voice.

“Kindan,” someone yells through the house, “Will you get Flye; tell her food is ready.”

The man, who I’m guessing is Kindan, smiles, “I’m sure you heard that,” he growls.

I lift my top lip in a snarl, showing off my fangs. “Yep.”

Kindan leads me out of the room into a bright hall full of people chatting away and food being served everywhere. All I can smell is fish so I’m not really surprised I hadn’t scented the humans.

A hush falls over the room as I enter. Everyone watches me as I follow Kindan down an aisle to another room.

I walk with my head high, tail flicking behind me, daring someone to challenge me.

Kindan holds the door to another room open for me, rolling his eyes at my behavior.

An elderly woman with silver hair hands me a plate with a fish covered in herbs, a delicious smell wafting from the plate.

“Thank you so much …” I stop.

“Just call me Mum. My two children don’t,” Mum says sweetly, glaring at Kindan.

I dip my head and sit down at the table Mum indicates for me and start on my meal. I finish the fish quickly, and as I hand the plate to Mum, the door bursts open.

Jayson storms in and slams the door behind him. He acknowledges us in the room before walking to the sink to get himself a drink of water.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” Mum asks.

“No one is going to press charges on the guy who set my house on fire,” Jayson snarls.

I jump up, and then sit down. “Why not?” I ask angrily.

“Because,” Jayson turns to me, “healers aren’t as respected as they should be.”

I sit in silence as the family argues with each other.

After a while I rise. “I think it’s time I head off,” I say softly.

Kindan, Jayson and Mum turn to me in surprise.

“Thank you for the hospitality and the food,” I say, bowing.

I turn and leave the room, walking to another door, ignoring the stares, and find myself in a hall. At the end of the hall, there is a door that leads outside. I start down the trail that leads to my freedom. The forest engulfs me, and I twirl around happily.

My ears pick up the sound of footsteps, and I whirl around, a dagger in each hand.

Jayson stops in front of me, eyeing the daggers cautiously. I sheathe them and smile sadly. “I’m leaving, Jayson, and nothing will change my mind,” I say.

He nods, watching my hands. “But you’d leave without saying good-bye?” He murmurs.

“I said good-bye, but you’re making this hard for me,” I cry.

Jayson raises his eyes to mine and smiles. “Yes, so I think its best that I come with you,” he says softly.

I gasp in shock. “No, Jayson, you can’t!” I cry. “The whole Clan would kill you!”

“I’ll pledge my loyalty to them, and learn to be a healer. From what you’ve said, healers are very much respected amongst your kind,” Jayson insists.

I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. I hadn’t known my fondness for this human had grown so much. “Jayson, not only would they kill you, but I’ll be severely punished by telling them I was saved by a human,” I explain.

Jayson walks up to me and wraps his arms around me. “Flye, please. Let me come. I’ll talk to the Clan leader, and ask for acceptance. I could tell them I was once spared. I’m marked, Flye, and I know nearly all about your kind,” Jayson insists. He kisses me, and I give in.

“Fine, you can come,” I snap, going bright red.

Jayson smiles and takes my hand. “I told the others I’m most likely not coming back, so it’s ok. I said good-bye too,” he glances at me, “a proper good-bye.”

I roll my eyes. “Alright, alright. Just to let you know, this journey won’t be easy,” I tease.

Jayson smiles, “Well, if you hurt yourself, I can heal you.”

I look down sadly. The fire that had raged through our valley is still fresh in my mind, but I know I have to go back. “The only thing that needs healing now is my heart,” I sniff.

Jayson stops and whirls me around into his arms. “Well, I can fix that easy!” He exclaims, and kisses me full on the lips.

He stands me up properly and runs off.

I snap out of my stupor and run after him. “You’re in for it now, boy!” I call, changing into my cat form and chasing him.

But he’s right; he’ll be able to heal my heart. In fact, he might be half way there already!