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With the jaguar on a mission in the eastern territory ‒ where he was tasked with rounding up as many of his kind as possible ‒ the tigers back home had little else to do but prepare for the impending conflict as best they could. Since time immemorial, the striped ones had claimed to be the most warlike of all the predators. They claimed this title because they had always produced the strongest warriors, and fighting truly ran in their blood. Nevertheless, the tigers, too, had not engaged in a real conflict for over 200 years, and while the clan’s warriors were well-trained in theory, very few of them had actual combat experience.

Not least for this reason, the Great Khan had ordered that every Tiger capable of fighting ‒ and not entrusted with other tasks essential to the clan ‒ must undergo a rigorous training regimen. None of them resisted or tried to shirk this duty, for they all knew that the impending battle would demand everything of them and would likely claim many lives. Even many of the tigers who had previously been among the clan’s priests and some of its concubines underwent the training and would take part in the fighting as soon as the Khan called them to arms.

The temple’s training grounds, which had been virtually deserted in the meantime, were once again bustling with activity as the tigers perfected their skills under the watchful eyes of the more battle-hardened members.

They weren’t entirely sure how much the techniques they were teaching their fellow Tigers would ultimately help against an enemy like the Nea-Phi-Lim, who preferred to attack from a distance, but it was all they could do. They would close the distance between themselves and the enemy as quickly as possible and then overwhelm them… or die trying.

While training was in full swing in the temple, the captain of the guard at the outpost had his hands full trying to deploy the militia provided by the herbivores in even a halfway sensible manner. Although he and his staff had initially been very pleased with the reinforcements, which were supposed to relieve his troops and help secure the borders, it had very quickly become apparent that the herbivores were not only unsuitable for frontline duty, but the constant and completely uncontrolled arrival of additional troops made a coordinated operation nearly impossible. The organized chaos he had maintained so far ‒ in which, apart from himself, no one else could find their way ‒ was turning more and more into genuine chaos with each passing day.

The complete lack of any tactical understanding and the prevalence of a civilian mindset led to repeated loud arguments between the individual units. They argued over who could be deployed where and at what time of day or night, and were often dissatisfied with the quadrants assigned to them ‒ either because the grass was greener at another deployment site or because they were being sent too far from home.

On several occasions, the captain had to put his foot down and remind the herbivore warriors of what was at stake ‒ that they hadn’t been invited on a walk or a picnic, but that, in essence, war was raging and their task was to track down intruders and, ideally, hold them off until reinforcements arrived.

Most of the time, this helped at least put an end to the disputes, though not always to everyone’s satisfaction, and a constant underlying tension remained between the individual factions.

This first week of cooperation between the militias and the Tiger forces did indeed get off to a rather bumpy start, but that was exactly what everyone had expected. However, both sides vowed to make a great effort, as they all knew that they couldn’t manage without the other side.

For some, the days passed quickly ‒ far too quickly ‒ as they feared there wouldn’t be enough time to boost the combat effectiveness of their own troops enough to have a real chance at victory, while for others, they dragged on agonizingly slowly.

With every sunset that passed without news from Garra, Emily’s courage sank further and further. She had already withdrawn from most group activities and left her room only for the bare necessities. Pecada was deeply worried about her youngest daughter, who at times even refused to eat. No one could reach the young tigress, who had lost her heart to the jaguar whose life-threatening mission had now lasted over ten days. It wasn’t until Amelia returned from her stay at the outpost to train with her father and Emily that things improved slightly. The Khan’s older daughter repeatedly managed to lure her twin sister out of her hiding place, even if only for a short time. It was obvious that Emily missed Garra, and with every passing day, it only got worse.

If something didn’t happen soon, it would have dire consequences, but none of the tigers ‒ not even Amelia ‒ could do anything about it for the moment.

To make matters worse, the tigers were now receiving new bad news almost daily. The herbivores, who were still in contact with their kin in the eastern territories, brought back alarming news. The Nea-Phi-Lim were advancing unabated and continued to kill everything and everyone who crossed their path. The Tigers would have to act soon, or it would be too late.

This, of course, was grist to the captain’s mill; time and again, he sent word to the Great Khan asking how much longer the Tiger leader intended to wait for that traitorous jaguar, who, in his opinion, had seized the opportunity and simply taken off. The Great Khan, however, remained unperturbed despite the mounting pressure. The jaguar would return, and he would bring an army with him.

As the second week finally drew to a close, the Tigers’ army slowly began to take shape. The clan’s warriors were in better shape than they had ever been since the end of the war. The Khan was proud of his clan and pleased with the progress they had made in such a short time. If Garra returned now with even a handful of capable jaguars, they would have a real chance of driving out these hated invaders ‒ of that he was certain.

“Yes, if Garra returns.”

Amelia replied over her shoulder as she placed the training sword back on the weapons rack after spending half an hour bashing her father with it. The Great Khan, who was busy inspecting his own training weapon, nodded before he, too, returned his weapon to its place.

“Right… if…”

He muttered, pressing his lips together.

“…I really do hope he comes back.”

He finally said, squaring his shoulders. He was trying to project confidence, but they both knew all too well that with each passing day, the chances of that were dwindling. Amelia turned to her father and looked at him with a mischievous grin. He was drenched in sweat, and even though his breathing had already calmed down again, the young tigress knew full well that he’d completely exhausted himself training with her. Not that she was any better off ‒ she, too, was soaked in sweat and could feel just about every muscle in her body ‒ but it had felt good and taken her mind off things, at least for a while. She ran her hand across her forehead and brushed her sweat-drenched mane back before snapping her hand out.

Now that her training for the day was over, her thoughts returned ‒ and her father felt the same way; otherwise, he would never have brought up Garra.

“I hope, for Emily’s sake, that he comes back. I’m really worried about her.”

She admitted quietly, and the Khan nodded silently before pointing toward the temple.

“He’ll come back if he knows what’s good for him, but right now we should make sure we get rid of this sweat. Your mother’s going to be pretty upset if we show up for dinner looking like this.”

He deliberately sidestepped her comment ‒ not that he was ignoring his younger daughter’s condition, but he knew there wasn’t really anything he could do about it ‒ so he changed the subject and sniffed his armpit before grimacing and covering his nose. This at least made Amelia laugh, and she couldn’t argue with him; she, too, must have smelled bad.

“Yes, I think a bath would be advisable right now.”

She replied, turning toward the temple, but while her father took the direct route to the baths, Amelia decided to check on Emily first. As she walked through the temple’s corridors, she wondered how she could get her sister to venture out of her cocoon, at least for dinner. Just before she reached the harem, she finally caught herself mimicking her father’s gesture and sniffing her armpit. She quickly regretted this mistake, but it did give her an idea for Emily. After all, she would need someone to wash her back ‒ someone she trusted unconditionally.

After the Tigers had largely handed over guard duty at the borders to the herbivores, most of their warriors had returned to the temple, and so the corridors and halls of the large complex were once again filled with far more life than they had been just a few days earlier. Amelia enjoyed being among her own kind; she couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to be alone ‒ truly alone. Over the past few days, she had often tried to put herself in Emily’s shoes, back when they had left her alone ‒ when both her parents and she herself had left the temple. It was a terrifying thought, and the more she tried to understand that feeling, the more she feared it.

She had spent entire nights lying in bed, snuggled close to Emily, talking to her about how sorry she was for having exposed her to that loneliness. Her sister had been understanding and had forgiven her, but that hadn’t lessened her pain.

When Pecada had told her why Emily was in such distress, Amelia had been shocked at first; she’d found it repulsive that her sister, of all people, had gotten involved with the jaguar. But perhaps it was also envy ‒ that her little sister had had her first time before she did, and in such a scandalous way, no less.

They’d spent an entire night seriously discussing why Emily felt so strongly drawn to Garra, and why she’d disregarded all the rules and boundaries her parents had set for her because of him. In the end, Amelia had understood her motives and apologized for her anger and envy. Deep down in her heart, the older sister felt that this conversation had only strengthened her bond with her sister.

In the days that followed, it had helped her to repeatedly coax the grief-stricken young tigress out of her room and get her to spend time with her and her family, even though it had become increasingly difficult as the days passed to draw Emily out of her shell. Another whole day had already gone by without her even getting out of bed.

Worried, Amelia crept through the harem toward the door that would lead her to their shared room, where she would once again draw on the strength of their bond in the hope of motivating Emily a little. When she finally stood in front of the door, the young tigress hesitated. She had already raised her hand, but didn’t want to open the simple door just yet. Instead, she leaned against the wood once more and listened intently to the room beyond. There was deafening silence behind the door; nothing stirred, or at least nothing in the room made a sound. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before reaching for the doorknob and slowly opening it.

It was dark in their shared chamber ‒ dark and downright cold compared to outside. The room was sparsely furnished; aside from the two bed alcoves, there were only a few small stools, a low table, and a sideboard where the two tigresses had stowed their belongings.

One of the sleeping alcoves was occupied. Emily lay curled up on her bed, her legs pulled tightly against her body and her arms wrapped around herself. She didn’t move; only the slight rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was still alive at all. Worried, Amelia watched her younger sister for a moment before quietly closing the door behind her. She didn’t know the pain Emily was struggling with. Even though her younger sister had tried to explain to her just how much it hurt, she still couldn’t put herself in her shoes. Nevertheless, Emily couldn’t spend the rest of her life in bed; she had to get up, had to take part in life, otherwise the pain would never go away.

Amelia gathered her courage and slowly and quietly approached her sister’s bed until she finally sat down carefully on the edge of it, but Emily didn’t react. A gentle smile spread across the older sister’s lips as she placed her sweaty hand on the young tigress’s shoulder and stroked her tenderly.

“Hey, sleepyhead, time to get up.”

She whispered just loud enough for her sister to hear. She knew full well that Emily wasn’t asleep and could hear her just fine; she’d simply chosen not to react. Amelia’s smile remained, even as her ears flattened. She was familiar with this behavior by now and knew she just had to be patient and persistent; eventually, she’d get through to her sister and coax her out of her shell.

“Come on, sis, I know you can hear me…”

She added, this time a little more forcefully, while continuing to stroke her.

“…talk to me, little sis.”

She urged, as Emily still showed no reaction, though her concern was clearly audible in her voice. In response, the younger sister muttered something unintelligible and tried to curl up even tighter. Amelia was quite familiar with this reaction by now, and it no longer fazed her; on the contrary, she saw it as a challenge to try even harder, because after all, her sister had reacted. She turned a little more toward her and stroked her back.

“I could really use your help. How about it ‒ will you get up and help your sister?”

She asked softly, running her claws very gently over Emily’s ribs ‒ right where she knew she was extremely ticklish ‒ and waited. She knew it wouldn’t be long before her sister could no longer ignore this torture, and in fact, she could already see the hairs on the back of her neck beginning to stand on end.

“Go away… you stink…”

Emily finally muttered, trying in vain to push Amelia’s arm away, but her sister didn’t let up; instead, she kept tickling her. She knew she’d won if Emily was already reacting like this; now she just had to be persistent and not give up.

“Yeah, I stink because I worked out with Dad ‒ since you didn’t want to. I stink, I’m sweaty and sticky, and if you don’t help me wash all this off, I’ll just snuggle up to you just the way I am ‒ then we’ll both stink. What do you think?”

Amelia asked, and the mischievous glee creeping into her voice was unmistakable, while she now used both hands to tease her little sister, who couldn’t hold back her giggles and fought back even more vigorously against her beloved sister’s antics. She was still trying to push away the nimble hands that were tickling her so mercilessly, but she had neither the strength nor the right angle to succeed; instead, Amelia seized the moment and pulled her toward her.

Emily looked terrible; her face was completely puffy from all the crying, and her eyes were red. Startled, Amelia let go of her and sat back down on the edge of the bed. She was downright shocked by the state of her younger twin sister.

“By the ancestors…”

She blurted out, and Emily tried to hide her face behind her hands.

“Don’t look at me…”

Emily protested, rolling back onto her side and curling up into a ball again. Amelia let her be, but then lay down behind her and snuggled up against her sister before wrapping her arms around her from behind and pulling her close to her body. Emily didn’t resist; deep down, she was enjoying the sincere, loving touch.

They lay in silence on the younger sister’s bed for quite a while, until Emily had calmed down and relaxed. Amelia pressed her against her chest once more and stroked her tenderly.

“I really think a bath would do you some good too… even if it’s just to relax your muscles. What do you think?”

She asked in a whisper and waited. Emily needed another moment, during which she carefully ran her fingers over Amelia’s hands, tracing the patterns of her black stripes. She seemed to be thinking it over.

“Just the two of us?”

The younger one finally asked, and her sister couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course, just you and me. We’ll kick everyone else out of the baths.”

She replied jokingly, but it seemed to work, because Emily nodded slowly. Satisfied, Amelia released her from the embrace and sat back up.

“All right, then let’s go so we can wash off all this sweat and tears.”

The older sister urged encouragingly, while Emily remained silent and simply turned slowly and sat up on the edge of the bed next to her. Without resisting, she let Amelia wipe the tears from her cheek before they both stood up, picked up their robes, and left the room.

Amelia knew by now that she shouldn’t push her sister too hard in moments like this, so she, too, remained silent as they walked through the dark, winding corridors of the temple. Her stern, fierce gaze immediately silenced every tiger they encountered along the way, forcing them to clear the path. She wanted to make sure no one spoke to them and caused Emily to retreat back into her shell again. Fortunately, the path to the temple’s communal baths wasn’t too far, and they made it there without incident.

The temple’s baths were something special; they offered the luxury of hot and cold pools, depending on what the visitor preferred at the time. The temple’s builders had made it possible to light fires beneath the pools, heating the stones that formed the walls and floors of the pools and, in turn, gradually heating the water. It had taken a great deal of experimentation before the Tigers got the hang of it ‒ making the fires just hot enough so that they wouldn’t bring the pools to a boil ‒ but by now the priests had mastered this art. The Tigers, led by the priesthood, took full advantage of this luxury. There was no separation by gender ‒ the Tigers considered this unnecessary ‒ but there was a distinction between clean and dirty baths. After some time, the Tigers had instituted a rule that one had to first cleanse oneself in one of the immersion pools before being allowed to enter the actual baths, so as not to unnecessarily dirty the large pools. Although the water in the pools was changed from time to time, it was a major undertaking each time, and the Tigers wanted to avoid this whenever possible. The plunge pools were significantly smaller, and when the water eventually became too dirty to continue cleansing oneself with, it required less effort to clean the small pools again.

Amelia was already looking forward to spending some time in the hot water of the bath to relax her tense, overworked muscles and simply let her mind wander a bit ‒ not to mention spending some time with her sister. However, she wasn’t entirely sure if Emily would feel the same way, but at least she had come along. They turned the last corner and saw the purple curtains that separated the baths from the rest of the temple. Everything was quiet; perhaps they really were lucky and no one else was in the baths. Carefully, she pushed the curtain aside and entered the large antechamber where the plunge pools were located. She remembered that one of the priestesses had once told her that when the Nea-Phi-Lim still inhabited this temple, they had held sacrificial ceremonies almost daily, and these enormous baths had been built to prepare the many victims for the rituals. At the thought of how many victims there must have been for them to have needed such large baths, an icy shiver ran down her spine.

She pushed these grim thoughts aside and approached one of the immersion pools, where she took off her robe and looked around for Emily, who continued to follow her silently and placed her robe next to her sister’s. Smiling, she pointed to her back.

“Will you wash my back, sweet sister?”

She asked softly and waited until Emily turned her attention to her.

“Of course…”

Emily whispered and followed her to the pool. The water in the plunge pools was unheated and, accordingly, refreshing, if not downright cold. Since days in the jungle were usually hot and humid, the cool water was mostly a welcome way to cool off ‒ a relief, albeit only temporary ‒ but when one was already completely tense, the cold did little to help the muscles relax.

Amelia stepped into the pool first. Very slowly, she dipped her feet into the cool water and greedily took a deep breath as the water welcomed her. Her muscles protested against the cold, making her movements stiff and awkward, but there was no helping it ‒ she had to get to the middle of the pool, whether she wanted to or not. Her only consolation was that Emily had to get into the pool too, so at least she wouldn’t have to suffer alone.

“Haa … haaaa … I keep forgetting just how damn cold this stuff is …”

She hissed as the water finally reached her hips and she had reached the deepest part of the pool, while she heard her younger sister step into the water behind her. She didn’t make a sound, didn’t even take a deeper breath, but simply accepted the temperature shock. For a moment, the soft splashing of the water was the only thing Amelia could hear. It wasn’t until she felt her sister’s hands on her back ‒ caressing her tenderly from her shoulders down, then gliding over her sides toward the front, and finally moving carefully upward toward her breasts, gently cupping them and pulling her back against Emily’s body ‒ that she heard her soft voice.

“Could it be that you’re cold, sis?”

Emily whispered in her ear, and she could practically hear her smirk.

“Oh, I don’t know. What makes you think that?”

Amelia replied, already knowing exactly where Emily was going with this. Her hands were very deft as she tenderly rolled her nipples back and forth between her fingers. She couldn’t help but give in to the teasing and purred softly.

“Hmmm… maybe because these are so hard you could split granite with them.”

Emily replied, giving them a very light pinch before they both burst into hearty laughter. Amelia then brought her hands around to the back and caressed her sister’s hips.

“It’s nice to have you here.”

She whispered so softly that Emily could barely make it out, and rested her head against the other’s. Emily nodded slightly and returned the gesture.

“I’m sorry… I just miss him so much… it hurts…”

She began, sliding one of her hands between her sister’s breasts, right where her heart lay.

“…deep down inside…”

She added just as quietly, whereupon Amelia nodded slightly; then Emily embraced her from behind and pressed herself tightly against her.

“Thank you… thank you for being here…”

Whispered Emily, and Amelia nodded again as she pulled her sister’s arms closer around her.

“I’m always here for you, little sister.”

Amelia replied before Emily released her from the embrace. She took a step back and picked up a bowl that was resting on the edge of the tub. When Amelia heard her sister filling the bowl with water, she held her breath and tensed her muscles in preparation for what was about to happen. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by the younger one, and she took a certain mischievous pleasure in letting the cold water run down her back. Amelia gasped as the water touched her back for the first time, and her already tense muscles literally cramped up. She wanted to curse, but held back, burying her hands instead in the fur on her thighs. Emily was merciful and let the water run slowly down her back, and every time the bowl was empty, she wiped the water ‒ along with her sweat ‒ from her fur, thus providing a brief respite from the ordeal. She slowly worked her way up the older sister’s back while the latter washed her arms and front. Emily was thorough in what she did; once she had reached Amelia’s shoulders and had carefully wiped the water away, she poured another full basin of cold water over her sister’s back to make sure that every last bit of sweat and dirt had been washed from her fur. Now there was only one area left to clean: her head.

Reluctantly, she submerged herself deeper into the basin to make it easier for her sister, and when the cold water completely enveloped her, it literally took her breath away. It was a small price she was willing to pay if it meant Emily would rejoin life again. Then she heard her sister filling the bowl with water and braced herself for the rush of cold water.

Emily gently lifted her chin and began to let the water flow slowly over her forehead and head. Amelia knew the pain ‒ it felt as if her scalp were tearing. She held her breath and endured it until it was over. Emily filled the bowl two more times until she was truly sure she had washed all the sweat from Amelia’s fur; only then did she gently stroke the water from her pelt ‒ from her head, face, and neck.

“It’s done…”

She finally whispered softly, placing the bowl back on the edge of the basin, while Amelia was grateful that she could stand up again and stroke the excess water from her fur. Emily took over stroking her back, and when they were done, the older sister turned to face her. Now that her fur was wet, it accentuated her slender figure even more.

“You’re beautiful, sis.”

Whispered Emily, bringing a smile to her older twin sister’s lips. Emily, on the other hand, still looked quite disheveled. Even though her face wasn’t quite as swollen anymore, her fur was still matted from her tears, and lying down for so long had completely ruffled it.

Amelia gently raised her hand to her sister’s cheek and stroked it tenderly.

“Let’s wash this away. The tears and the pain.”

She whispered encouragingly, and Emily gently rested her head in her hand before nodding slightly.

They switched places and repeated the ritual they had just performed on her. She carefully washed her younger sister’s back; her sister endured the procedure stoically, without so much as batting an eyelash, and when she washed her head, she looked downright relaxed. Amused, Amelia shook her head as she slowly let the last bowl of water run down her sister’s forehead.

When she was done and had set the bowl aside, she, too, stroked the excess water from her sister’s fur. It was a tender, almost sensual caress of her sister’s contours. Her hands glided over her neck, feeling her strong muscles and her pulse, which beat strongly and steadily beneath her fingers. Amelia closed her eyes and savored the connection with her sister. They were two halves of a whole, and only when they were together did she feel truly complete. Slowly, she finally withdrew, giving her sister space to rise again.

When Emily sensed this, she rose again in an infinitely elegant movement. Her slender silhouette, accentuated even more by her wet fur, which literally clung to her, had a beguiling effect on Amelia. Once again, she felt drawn to her in a way she had never felt toward anyone else. Tenderly, she placed her hands back on her sister’s body and continued to brush the water from her fur. She couldn’t help but notice that her sister had lost weight, which worried her, but at the same time, she also noticed how Emily’s breathing quickened as she caressed her. Finally, she stepped forward and embraced her from behind, just as her sister had done to her. She held her pressed tightly against her own body and stood silently with her in the cold water, resting her head against the younger one’s.

“I love you, little sister…”

She whispered softly, and it sounded like more than just the platonic love between siblings as she held the younger tigress a little tighter. Emily snuggled up against her in return and sighed softly.

“I love you, too…”

The younger one replied just as softly, whereupon Amelia smiled happily and nuzzled her nose against her neck. She would have loved to stay standing there with her in the water like that for much longer, but she could feel both of them slowly starting to shiver.

“Let’s go into the warm water.”

She finally suggested, hugging her sister one more time before slowly releasing her from her embrace. Instead of walking away, Emily turned back to her and nodded with a smile. It was a sincere smile, one that reached her eyes and warmed her sister’s heart.

“Warm water would be great…”

The younger tigress admitted, looking almost longingly at the curtain separating them from the main pool. Amelia waded to the edge of the pool and held out her hand to help the other out of the water. Emily gratefully accepted the help and stepped out of the cool water with a few, very elegant strides, which earned her sister’s admiration ‒ that she could still move so gracefully and effortlessly despite having stood in the cold water for so long. Now it was the younger sister’s turn to help her twin out of the pool, and even though Amelia tried her hardest, she wasn’t able to look anywhere near as elegant as her sister did.

She wasn’t really bothered by it, though, because she could see that her little sister was slowly starting to beam again. The smile, behind which lay enough mischief to keep a whole crowd of children entertained; the sparkle in those beautiful yellow-green eyes, which promised so much fun if one was willing to bend the rules a little; and her posture, which once again showed a pride she had missed so much over the past two weeks.

She pointed at the curtain, and Emily nodded before taking the lead and opening it. Sure enough, the main pools were empty as well. The huge hall, with its many small and large pools, was lit by a few fire pits and the occasional skylight, and there wasn’t a single tiger in sight. The younger of the two tigresses led the way and chose one of the pools, while the other followed her, unable to stop grinning. Emily knew exactly how to tease Amelia, so she lasciviously put one foot in front of the other, swaying her hips and tail seductively with each of her elegant steps. She was fully aware of how over-the-top her antics were, but that was the plan, and Amelia was all for it.

Her eyes narrowed to slits and she laid her ears back as she crept closer to her sister. The moment she grabbed her from behind, she growled menacingly and pulled her prey toward her. Both burst into loud laughter and walked the last few steps to one of the larger pools, arm in arm.

Emily was ultimately the first to glide into the pool, managing to make almost no waves. The only sound to be heard was the soft sigh Emily let out as the pleasantly warm water enveloped her. Amelia watched as her sister sank very slowly into the water, visibly relaxing as she did so.

“Are you coming in too, sis?”

It was a rhetorical question; of course she’d get in the water too. She was cold, her muscles were crying out for warmth and comfort, and besides, whose idea was it to go to the bathhouse anyway? Certainly not Emily’s! She considered for a moment whether she should just jump into the tub and try to create the biggest splash possible, but ultimately decided against it. She didn’t want to ruin the mood. She didn’t make it quite as gracefully, but still elegantly, into the pool with her sister.

The warm water welcomed her too, and almost instantly she felt her muscles begin to relax. It was amazing what a simple warm bath could do. Slowly, she sank into the soothing water until only her nose, eyes, and ears were above the surface.

“Oh, I really needed that…”

She murmured, just loud enough for Emily to hear. Emily giggled softly and let herself float. She was glad she’d given in to her sister and gone to the baths with her. It felt good to be pulled out of the depths of her depression and spend a little time with the person closest to her, both physically and mentally. It lifted a weight off her shoulders and allowed her to let go a little, to forget her worries for a moment. She lay back on the water and closed her eyes.

Amelia watched as her sister relaxed more and more and closed her eyes. A small, mischievous thought began to form in her mind, and the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile. Carefully, she let herself drift closer to Emily until she was within arm’s reach; then she gently touched her from below, stroking her side and hip, and waited for a reaction.

“Hmmm…”

Emily purred softly and let her sister have her way as she drew closer and closer, until she finally rested her head on the younger girl’s stomach while supporting her from below. They stayed like that for a moment before Emily slowly straightened up again and let Amelia embrace her lovingly. She tenderly returned the embrace and rested her head on her sister’s shoulder. Amelia savored the intimate closeness and surrendered completely to the feeling, while the purring in her ear was the only thing she was still aware of.

She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there with her twin sister in the warm water, but it didn’t matter. Very slowly, she let her hands explore first her sister’s back, then her sides, before they finally found their way down to Emily’s buttocks. Meanwhile, the purring in her ears grew louder and louder, and she felt the hairs on her sister’s neck stand on end.

“It… it’s been so long…”

It was little more than a hoarse whisper that escaped Amelia’s lips, but Emily understood and nodded as she hugged her tighter.

She felt exactly the same way…

At the Tigers’ outpost, the captain of the guard was growing impatient. With every passing day that, in his view, he was letting slip away needlessly. He was itching to finally march into the eastern territories and go on the hunt there, but he was bound by the orders of his Khan, who still pinned his hopes on that good-for-nothing jaguar. At least his troops were back in training, and only a handful had remained with him at the outpost as a rapid response force.

It was early afternoon on the nineteenth day since Garra had set out on his mission when an end to the captain’s wait began to take shape. Of all things, a border patrol of herbivores had stopped the invaders’ caravan and sent a runner to the Tigers’ camp. Even from a distance, the outpost guards had seen his clumsy steps and heard his hoarse shouts, and had in turn sent a runner to the captain.

When the massively overweight tapir finally arrived, panting, at the camp’s parade ground, he was supported by one of the guards, who couldn’t stop grinning. Meanwhile, the captain had already left his tent and was waiting impatiently, as always, for the herbivore’s report; though the tapir raised his hand in greeting, he couldn’t get a word out amid his heavy panting. The guard, who continued to support the tapir and watched the veins on his superior’s forehead bulge, took over the task from the tapir and reported:

“I humbly report that Patrol Five-Two-Four has intercepted a large group of intruders ‒ jaguars, it seems.”

The tiger reported calmly and matter-of-factly as he handed his captain a seal that had clearly seen better days. The tapir beside him swallowed and nodded as he very slowly straightened up and forced his breathing back under control. Meanwhile, the Tiger commander examined the seal and finally widened his eyes before staring openly at the herbivore.

“Where are they? How many have come?”

He finally asked, and the tapir pointed eastward, toward where he had come from.

“At… at the ford… there are… many…”

He still hadn’t fully regained control of his breathing, which earned him no small amount of disdain from the captain, but instead of scolding him for his lack of stamina, the tiger merely nodded and turned to his adjutant.

“The ford, then ‒ that makes sense; it’s the easiest route. Send out a runner ‒ I want to see the spotted ones, all of them! I want to know what we’re up against, and I want to know exactly how many there really are.”

He ordered, and his aide hurried off. It filled him with a certain satisfaction as he watched the young tiger run off ‒ moving so much more elegantly, efficiently, and, above all, significantly faster than the tapir could ever manage. There was a reason why tigers were the hunters and herbivores the prey. His gaze turned to the tapir, who was still standing next to the guard.

“Go rest before you rejoin your unit.”

He said in a surprisingly calm and good-natured voice before turning away and retreating to his tent, while the tapir nodded, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and simply sat down right where he stood.

As always, the captain’s tent was shrouded in a certain twilight, and the air was musty. The captain wasn’t much of a fan of airing out the tent, and only when he developed a headache or left the tent for an extended period did his adjutant and the guards outside the tent take the opportunity to leave the tarp at the entrance open.

He trudged over to his map table and looked at the map to get his bearings. The ford the Tapir had mentioned wasn’t too far from the outpost; the runner would likely reach it within the next two hours, and if the Jaguars set out immediately afterward, they might arrive at the camp another three to four hours later.

It would probably be too late to set out for the temple that same day, but they would see about that once the jaguars arrived. He nodded with satisfaction; now things would finally move forward. Even as he was lost in thought, he heard the tarp being pushed aside behind him and his adjutant reenter the tent.

“The runner is on his way. Should I have the tents prepared for our… guests?”

The young tiger asked quietly, and the captain nodded briefly.

“Yes, have the tents prepared; I assume Garra and his kind will spend the first night here. Send a messenger to the temple. The Great Khan must be informed that the jaguars have arrived. They should prepare themselves and send a message to the herbivores as soon as we can determine how many extra mouths we’ll have to feed. They need to know how much tribute we’ll need.”

The captain ordered, and his aide carefully noted the new orders before joining the captain at the map. There was still a little time before he had to put the orders into action; the others would take a while yet to arrive at the camp. The map showed the latest reports from the herbivores in the eastern territories. Their “allies” had reported that the Nea-Phi-Lim continued to rampage unchecked and that the herbivores were consequently still in retreat. By now, they had already spread out well past the halfway point from the mountains to their border, and it didn’t look as though they would stop anytime soon. The only glimmer of hope was that the frequency of the attacks did not seem to be increasing.

After updating the news and patrol reports on the large map, the adjutant left the captain again to carry out the commander’s instructions. Once more alone with his thoughts, the scarred tiger began to ponder how they could effectively train a larger number of jaguars so that they could be integrated as seamlessly as possible into their own army.

In fact, it wasn’t until late afternoon that the jaguars reached the camp. Their arrival had already been announced to the captain by one of the guards, who had run to him from one of the outer guard posts. When the column finally arrived at the roll call area in the center of the camp, they were accompanied by the runner whom the adjutant had originally sent out. In fact, there were a surprisingly large number of Jaguars led by Garra ‒ far more than the captain had expected. They were all battered and injured, and it was clear that recent events had not been kind to them, but only a few were in truly poor condition. The few who really needed medical attention, however, would soon be fully operational again with a little help. It was a truly pleasant surprise and an equally welcome reinforcement for their own troops.

It took a moment for all the jaguars to gather in front of the captain’s tent, and when silence finally fell, the great tiger stood up to his full height before Garra. The jaguar did not hesitate; he bent one knee before the commander of the tigers and bowed his head respectfully. The captain was pleased with this show of respect, but before he could say anything, the other jaguars silently followed his example and knelt. This actually surprised the captain and helped him overcome his doubts about the other big cats. With a wry smile, he finally urged them to rise again. One by one, the newcomers complied with his request and stood up. Some of them looked around uncertainly ‒ after all, this was all new territory for them ‒ while the few tigers still in the camp watched them curiously. Finally, it was the captain who spoke first.

“I admit, I never thought I’d say this to a jaguar, Garra, but I’m glad to see you.”

Said the captain in his inimitable tone, extending a clawed paw toward his counterpart, who gratefully accepted it and gave it a firm squeeze.

“I’ve gathered as many of my kind as I could, but understandably, there are still some who don’t trust this offer.”

Garra replied, trying to sound confident and strong ‒ not least to show his fellow jaguars that the tigers weren’t truly superior to them. The captain nodded grimly and looked at the many faces gathered behind Garra.

“Well, after 200 years of hostility, it’s only natural that the jaguars are skeptical. It’s not as if there weren’t ‒ and still aren’t ‒ elements on our side who are rather hesitant about this new alliance. But in the face of a common enemy, we will bridge these divides. Nevertheless, I see that you’ve brought a great many warriors with you. This will significantly boost our combat strength.”

The captain explained, making a sweeping gesture.

“All in all, about eighty-five, though not all of them are ready for battle.”

Garra admitted and turned to face his troops, while the captain nodded approvingly. He hadn’t expected nearly this many jaguars. Together with their own troops, this would indeed make for a formidable army. He gestured toward the tents of the camp surrounding them.

“All right, we’ll provide everyone with food, medicine, and a place to sleep. However, the journey to the temple is too far to set out on today. You’ll stay here in the camp for the night. Tomorrow morning, you can set out for the temple. The Khan is already expecting you.”

The captain explained, beckoning one of the tigers over. The tiger, who was responsible for feeding his fellow tigers still stationed in the camp, stepped closer; the sheer hopelessness of his situation was clearly visible on his face. He had expected to have to feed a handful of additional jaguars, but not an entire horde.

“Sir, we’re going to have trouble feeding everyone.”

He admitted quietly, but the captain shook his head.

“We’ll make do with what we have. Make some soup ‒ it’ll last for a day.”

Replied the commander, turning back to Garra, who smiled sheepishly.

“I have to admit, your return caught us off guard, but I think we’ll manage. Go with the quartermaster; he’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. After that, report to the infirmary ‒ the healers will tend to your injuries. There’ll be something to eat later. It won’t be quite as lavish as usual, but we’ll all be fed.”

the captain explained, gesturing toward another Tiger who nodded to Garra.

“Thank you for your efforts. I know our arrival was a bit spontaneous, but I didn’t want to wait any longer. We’ll be able to get by on soup for one evening. For some of us, it will be the first meal in a long time that we can eat in peace and quiet.”

The jaguar explained, and murmurs of agreement came from the ranks behind him.

In fact, the rest of the day passed completely calmly and peacefully. The jaguars were glad that, for once, they didn’t have to worry about being attacked from behind that night and didn’t have to hunt for a meal ‒ even if that meal wasn’t quite what Garra had promised them. They sat together on the parade ground and enjoyed the peace and the company. They still remained fairly separate from the tigers, who were also sitting in a circle; their trust in their longtime enemies simply wasn’t strong enough yet. Meanwhile, the captain had summoned Garra to his tent to discuss the developments of the past few weeks. Even though he still didn’t quite trust the jaguar, he tended to believe his statements more than those of the herbivores. However, he couldn’t tell the tiger much more than what the herbivores had already reported to him.

After a short night, Garra herded his fellow tigers out of the tents relatively early. He wanted to get to the temple as quickly as possible, not least to finally see Emily again. The captain had confided in him the previous evening that the Khan’s youngest daughter had not been well since he’d left, and so he wanted to return to her at last, even if it meant incurring the Khan’s wrath.

When his column finally set out to cover the distance to the temple as quickly as possible, the captain was waiting for him at the main gate and handed him some documents to take to the Khan; that way, the captain wouldn’t have to send an additional messenger. Garra took the rolled-up papyri and left the camp, followed by his companions. The captain scrutinized them one by one as they passed him. It would take a lot of work to get them into shape, but in the end it would be worth it ‒ jaguars were excellent, fast, and powerful warriors; one should never underestimate a jaguar.

News of Garra’s return had already spread like wildfire the night before. Not only had the tigers sent out their runners to spread the good news, but the herbivores had also sent their messengers to inform the other tribes that the jaguar was back and that he had brought a hungry pack with him. When the Tigers’ runners arrived at the herbivores’ camp, they were already expected, and the herbivores announced that they would do everything in their power to shoulder the burden for the greater good.

When the captain’s runner arrived at the temple, Amelia and Emily were on one of the training grounds, honing their skills. The twins were slashing at each other with practice swords, their aggressive shouts accompanying the loud clang of the wooden weapons. If you didn’t know the context, you’d think the two were actually trying to kill each other as they fought with bared teeth, pricked ears, and without any restraint.

Emily currently had the upper hand and was driving her sister back with quick, precise attacks, while Amelia wielded her weapon with both hands, focusing solely on deflecting her opponent’s rapid strikes. Emily screamed her rage out as she swung again and again, bringing her weapons down with deadly force onto her sister’s parry.

It wasn’t until they reached the end of the training grounds that the younger sister let up on her sister, who didn’t hesitate for a moment but immediately went on the counterattack, now pushing Emily back. Unlike her younger counterpart, Amelia placed less emphasis on finesse, opting instead for sheer brutality. As her screams echoed off the courtyard walls with every blow, she struck at her sister’s weapon with both hands, while her sister deftly dodged the attacks and deflected the powerful blows with minimal effort.

“Like … hfff … like this … you’ll never … hit me …”

Emily gasped, making another lunge as her sister’s weapon whizzed past her, just a few centimeters away. Amelia used the momentum of the weapons and struck again from a spinning motion.

“Aaaaarrrgh … if you weren’t such a coward … aaaaargh … you’d stand your ground and fight …”

The older sister screamed, chasing after her, but no matter what she did, Emily always stayed one step ahead of her. Ever since they’d been little, Emily had been the more skilled fighter, whereas Amelia was the one who was more adept with words. It annoyed her that Emily could escape her so easily, while she had to laboriously parry every one of her blows.

Both had been practicing for some time and were drenched in sweat; their stamina was remarkable, but very slowly, they both sensed that they couldn’t keep up this pace much longer. They would do two or three more rounds, then call it a day and turn their attention to other things.

Neither of them noticed the priestess approaching them from the temple. The young tigress smiled gently and watched the two of them for a moment with casual interest before raising her voice to try to drown out the commotion.

“We’ve just received news from the outpost.”

Said the priestess, but her words were lost in the general noise. She took a deep breath, rolled her eyes, and repeated her statement even louder.

“THERE’S NEWS FROM THE FRONT!”

The young tigress shouted, dodging a blow from Amelia that had been deflected toward her by Emily. Neither of them stopped their training; instead, they continued to pummel each other.

“WHAT?!”

Amelia almost screamed as she shifted her stance between two strikes to execute a different combination, which Emily continued to block. The priestess watched them and called out:

“Garra has returned and…”

She didn’t get any further, because at that moment, Emily was sent crashing to the ground by her sister. She had heard Garra’s name, and that was the end of her concentration. Amelia had struck her on the upper arm and thrown her off balance. Now Emily lay on the ground, clutching her arm, but she didn’t scream. Amelia had immediately dropped her weapons and rushed to her side. With wide eyes, she looked at her sister, who was struggling to suppress the pain.

“By the ancestors, are you all right?”

She asked, but Emily didn’t even acknowledge her; instead, she stared at the priestess.

“Is… is that true?”

She finally hissed, and tears streamed down her cheek, though Amelia wasn’t sure if they were from the pain. The priestess nodded with a grin.

“Yes, it’s true. He’s arrived at the camp with a force of about eighty jaguars. They’re expected here at the temple sometime tomorrow.”

The tigress confirmed, her smile never leaving her lips. Emily’s eyes widened and she gasped for breath as she struggled to get back on her feet. The pain hadn’t gone away, but her longing to see “her” Garra again overshadowed it quite well. It was Amelia who finally held her back as she was already turning toward the temple.

“Where are you going?”

She asked, picking up her sister’s training weapon from the ground. Emily didn’t even pause as she said over her shoulder:

“I… I have to get to him!”

That statement came with such certainty that a chill ran down Amelia’s spine. How could this jaguar possibly have such power over her little sister? She took the swords and hurriedly placed them back on the rack where they’d taken them from, then ran after her sister, while the priestess watched them both with a gentle smile.

“Stop staring like an idiot ‒ do something!”

Amelia called out to her, but the priestess just grinned. She swallowed her contempt for the fact that the priestess was obviously under the influence of the various drugs needed for the rituals over the next few days, and reached for her sister’s shoulder.

“You can’t just go to him now ‒ he’s at the camp, and Father will flip out!”

She said urgently, but Emily wouldn’t let herself be stopped; she hadn’t seen him for too long, and she’d had to wait for him for too long. Everything inside her was screaming at her to break free and rush to the Garras.

“You don’t understand… you’ve never been in love.”

Emily retorted, trying to free herself from her sister’s grip, but Amelia wouldn’t let go. She looked deep into her eyes, and there was a fire in them that burned hotter than Emily would have thought possible.

“That’s not true… I’ve been in love before, too…”

The older sister countered, immediately clamping her mouth shut when she realized she’d admitted something she perhaps shouldn’t have said. Meanwhile, Emily’s expression darkened.

“That thing with Ramirez doesn’t count!”

The younger sister hissed defiantly and finally managed to break free from Amelia before continuing on her way. Her sister paused for a moment and watched her go, swallowing her anger. On the one hand, she was glad that Emily hadn’t understood right away; on the other, it hurt that she obviously didn’t realize it. Her lips trembled, and the temptation to shout it after her was almost overwhelming, but she knew that confessing it to her now would only cause more pain. She took a deep breath and set off after the younger sister again.

“Emily, don’t be silly! He’s back, and he’s alive. What difference does one more night make?”

She called after her, careful to keep her tone as neutral as possible, but Emily didn’t react at first.

“Is it worth the trouble you’ll get into if Dad finds out what you’re planning? In the worst case, he’ll forbid you again…”

Now her sister stood rooted to the spot, her tail hanging limply down, before she turned to face her.

“Dad… Dad wouldn’t do that…”

Emily replied, though she didn’t sound very convinced herself. Of course, her father had promised not to forbid her love for Garra outright, but he’d also said that the jaguar would first have to officially ask for her hand in marriage.

Amelia stood before her and looked at her pityingly.

“You know how quick-tempered he can be.”

She whispered, watching as Emily literally collapsed. The arm, whose pain had seemed to fade just a moment ago, burned like fire again; exhaustion pulled her toward the ground with all its might, and she could barely manage to stay on her feet.

“Do you think…?”

She finally asked, leaving the sentence unfinished. Amelia just shrugged, but took the last two steps toward her and gently placed her hand on Emily’s uninjured shoulder.

“Let’s not risk it. Besides, just look at us. Do you want to show up like this in front of your partner? All sweaty and sticky?”

Amelie replied jokingly, eyeing her appraisingly from head to toe and back again, then gently stroking her forehead to smooth her fur at least a little. This elicited at least a small smile from Emily before she shook her head cautiously.

“Let’s go see Mom and ask how all this is supposed to work, but first we should wash up. What do you think?”

the older sister suggested, and her younger sister nodded ‒ she could live with that. They would meet with their mother, find out when the jaguars were expected, see if there were any details yet, and then spend a night full of impatience and excitement before she finally saw him again. Before she finally… well, that wasn’t quite certain yet, but she had hope.

Amelia and Emily spent quite some time in the baths, during which Emily couldn’t stop gushing. She didn’t notice how much Amelia was suffering because of it, even though she was genuinely happy for her younger sister. Once they’d washed off their sweat, they hurried to Pecada, who was already busy with preparations for the Jaguars’ arrival. Everything had to be perfect; they wanted to make the best possible impression when the big cats arrived from the eastern lands.

Their mother confirmed once again that Garra had indeed returned and had brought a considerable number of warriors with him. They would spend the night at the camp, since the journey was too far to complete that same day ‒ at least with so many jaguars. The plan was for Garra to set out with his fellow jaguars the next morning and come to the temple. They were expected to arrive around noon.

There would be a reception; then the priestesses would familiarize the new arrivals with the temple and the rules of their community; and in the evening, they would share their first proper meal together. Of course, both daughters were expected to present themselves in the best possible light at the reception, alongside the Great Khan and their mother. That meant ceremonial robes and proper manners. As she said the last word, Pecada gave her youngest daughter a stern look.

“Emily, I know how much you want to rush off to Garra, but now is not the time for hasty and ill-considered actions. You won’t try any escapades tonight, or else I can’t guarantee anything. I’ve appealed to your father’s conscience, and he’ll keep his promise. … No, listen to me now … You’ll get your chance to drag him in front of your father, and then, as you were promised, he can officially ask for your hand ‒ but only after everything else has been said and done. Do we understand each other?”

Pecada asked in an unusually sharp tone, and Emily, who had let her shoulders and ears droop, nodded.

“Yes, Mom. I’ll hold back.”

She didn’t sound entirely convinced, but her mother hugged her anyway and pulled Amelia into the embrace as well.

“Good… good… I’m so proud of you girls.”

She praised her daughters and kissed each of them on the head.

“And now, you two, go see if you can help your father, or get up to some mischief ‒ I have to take care of this.”

It wasn’t really a free pass to get into any trouble ‒ Amelia and Emily knew that too ‒ but their mother also knew all too well that if she left the two young tigresses unsupervised for too long, it was almost guaranteed that something would happen.

Eventually, however, the twins were drawn to one of the quieter corners of the temple, where they waited out the rest of the evening together before retiring to their room after supper. Emily had already feared it, but she didn’t sleep a wink all night. Even when Amelia joined her and she fell asleep in her arms, the young tigress still couldn’t drift off. It wasn’t until dawn was breaking that her eyes finally closed, her body demanding its right to sleep. But even then, she wasn’t granted a proper night’s sleep, for the other tigers of the temple were already stirring with bustling activity.

Amelia was kind to her sister and let her sleep a little longer, while she busied herself grooming her own fur and arranging her ceremonial robes. Only when she was ready did she gently wake her little sister.

“Wake up, sleepyhead, or you’ll oversleep the arrival of your prince.”

She whispered, lovingly stroking Emily’s cheek. Emily murmured softly in response and curled up tighter. Amelia smiled gently, leaned over her sister’s bed, and kissed her tenderly on the head before repeating her wake-up call.

“Eeeemily… wake up…”

She whispered softly, right into her ear, and waited a moment. Slowly, very slowly, the younger girl opened her eyes. She looked terribly contrite, but she slowly turned toward her, and something like a smile flitted across her lips.

“… is it time already…?”

She murmured in disbelief, and Amelia nodded slowly.

“You still have a little time, but I think you want to look your best for Garra, so get out of bed and get up.”

The older sister urged, taking Emily’s hands and gently pulling her into a sitting position. Emily didn’t resist, but she wasn’t convinced yet either. Of course she wanted to look as good as possible when Garra came back, but at the same time, her body was protesting from lack of sleep, and her arm was hurting, too.

In the end, nothing helped; Emily had to get up and make herself presentable. Luckily for her, Amelia helped, and so the two of them managed to arrive at the great hall early enough, before the Jaguars arrived. The hall was brightly lit by the light of the fire bowls, and the columns were decorated with long banners. The tables and benches had been cleared away to make room for Garra and his entourage. Some of the warriors were already standing in the stands, though they would likely have more ceremonial roles, as they were unarmed. On the platform where the thrones stood, the Great Khan and Pecada were already waiting for them. Both were wearing their richly decorated ceremonial robes, whose blue color stood out starkly against their orange fur, and while Pecada joyfully beckoned her two daughters toward her, the leader of the tigers smiled at them.

“Come, children, sit with us. The jaguars will be here soon.”

Pecada requested, her face radiating pride in her daughters. Emily followed Amelia as she stepped onto the dais, first hugging her mother and then kneeling before her father. When they were both kneeling before him, he placed his large, heavy paws on their heads.

“I am very proud of you, my children. Today is a great day, an important day. Can I count on you to behave yourselves?”

He asked in a calm but stern tone, his hands moving slowly over their heads to their cheeks and finally under his daughters’ chins, lifting their heads slightly so they were looking at him.

“Yes, Papa.”

They replied in unison, and the Great Khan smiled.

“Good, stand up, take your seats‒our guests will be here soon.”

Amelia and Emily rose gracefully and walked to their respective seats. While Amelia sat down on her throne and relaxed, Pecada placed her hands on her younger daughter’s shoulders and leaned down toward her.

“Do you remember what we discussed?”

Pecada asked softly, squeezing her shoulders, and Emily nodded gently.

“Mhm, I’ll hold back. I know how important this meeting is and what depends on it.”

She replied just as quietly and was rewarded with a little kiss on her head.

“Good girl, I’m proud of you.”

Her mother praised her, and Emily’s heart warmed.

When, a short time later, the large portal doors opened, they could hardly believe their eyes. The entire corridor leading to the great hall seemed to be filled with jaguars who, led by Garra, were entering the hall slowly and in an orderly fashion. The Great Khan rose from his throne and straightened his posture as the new arrivals spread out across the hall. In fact, it took quite a while before all the jaguars had finally found their places and calm returned to the hall. Only when the large doors were closed behind them did Garra finally step forward and bend his knee and bow his head before the Great Khan, while his fellow jaguars followed his lead. It was an impressive sight that commanded respect even from the Khan.

“Great Khan, I have returned and brought you the warriors I promised you.”

Said Garra in a firm voice, though he remained on his knees for the time being. The Great Khan nodded respectfully and surveyed the assembled crowd.

“Rise. Stand tall as the warriors you are.”

Replied the leader of the tigers, making a corresponding gesture, whereupon everyone rose again. The pride in Garra’s eyes was clearly visible. His fellow jaguars were skilled, strong fighters and rightly proud of their abilities. The fact that the Great Khan acknowledged this in his presence helped strengthen confidence in this alliance.

“Under these special circumstances, it is an honor for me and my clan to welcome you all here to our temple. And especially you, Garra, for without you, this alliance ‒ this first collaboration in over 200 years ‒ would not have been possible at all.”

Began the Great Khan, his voice taking on a solemn tone as he raised his hands.

“In the face of a common enemy, let us put an end to our old feuds and forge a new alliance that will enable us to defeat the enemy and drive him from our lands.”

He called out into the hall, and even though Garra could only agree, the response from his fellow jaguars was still rather reserved. The Great Khan could certainly understand this. After centuries in which the tigers had killed every single jaguar that had invaded their territory without exception, it was only understandable that they would react with skepticism at first. Over time, this skepticism would subside and a deeper trust would develop. As the Great Khan spoke, Garra’s gaze drifted over to Emily, whose eyes were literally glowing and who could barely contain herself on her throne. He noticed the reassuring hand Pecada was resting on her shoulder to keep her daughter from simply jumping up and running to him. It was a joy to see her again and to see how happy she was to see him as well. He nodded almost imperceptibly to Pecada, and she returned the gesture. Satisfied for the moment, he refocused his attention on the Great Khan.

“Great Khan, my people have come a long, arduous way. I think it would be best for now if they were given a bed, something to eat, and a chance to clean up.”

Garras finally said humbly, and the leader of the Tigers nodded approvingly.

“Very well, Garras, as long as your people are in our temple, they shall want for nothing. Let them first recover from the hardships of recent times; let them receive enough to eat, and let them sleep in peace and quiet. My healers stand ready to offer their services to those who need them, and our baths are at the disposal of your warriors. My priestesses have prepared everything and will lead you to your quarters, and when the time comes, we will be able to share our first meal together this evening.”

The Great Khan declared jovially, and a wave of broad approval swept over the crowd. He smiled gently; he was more than satisfied with how this first gathering had gone so far. He let his gaze sweep once more over the assembled jaguars.

“But enough of the grand words for now ‒ get some rest; we’ll see what happens tonight.”

He added, and at a wave of his hand, the great portals opened once more, and a large group of priestesses entered the hall to welcome the jaguars. When Garra noticed this, he glanced around briefly and nodded in appreciation.

“Thank you for your generous hospitality; we will appreciate it.”

Announced the jaguar, who had by now become something of an unofficial leader among his kind, and bowed respectfully to his counterpart. The Khan nodded approvingly and gestured toward the exit.

“So be it, then. Now go and rest; as soon as supper is served, you’ll be summoned. After the meal, the priestesses will show you around the temple and the grounds so that you may move about freely.”

With these words, the priestesses sprang into action and led the Spotted Ones out of the great hall, but just as Garra turned to leave, the Khan raised his hand once more.

“Garra, please stay a moment longer. There’s one more small matter to discuss.”

The Khan demanded, and as he spoke those last words, the jovial tone that had dominated his voice until that moment had completely vanished, giving way to a more serious, almost somber tone. Garra stopped and stared intently at the leader of the Tigers, who straightened his posture once more and stood up to his full height. It wasn’t until he saw out of the corner of his eye how Emily cautiously rose from her throne and made her way over to her father that he realized what the Great Khan wanted to talk to him about. Of course, word had gotten out in the meantime as to why Emily had been meeting with him so often ‒ and perhaps even what had happened during their last night. The only question that remained was: How had the leader of the Tigers reacted to this, and had his anger subsided over the past few weeks? Three weeks was a long time to reflect on such a revelation and come to a decision. Garra took a deep breath and steeled himself for whatever might come next.

When Emily reached her father, he opened his arms and drew her between himself and Garra. Protectively, he placed his large hands on her slender shoulders and stroked them. The jaguar could see the pride in the Great Khan’s eyes as he looked at his daughter, but also how much he was wrestling with himself as his gaze slowly turned back to Garra. The most powerful tiger in the entire jungle, ruler of an entire nation, master of life and death for so many animals ‒ and yet he could not find the words to express his conflicting thoughts and fears. And so it was ultimately Emily who placed her delicate hand on her father’s and spoke first:

“You can’t imagine how happy I was when I found out you’d returned, and how much happier I am now that you’re standing right in front of me.”

The words practically burst out of her, tumbling over one another, but after she’d finished her initial greeting, her expression darkened slightly.

“But as you can surely imagine, I’ve spoken with Father.”

She continued more quietly and earnestly, squeezing her father’s hand. Garra nodded silently and waited.

“We had a little… discussion…”

The young tigress explained softly, and her father nodded silently, pressing gently on her shoulders.

“…but after we both talked about it at length and in depth, we ‒ Dad has come to the conclusion…”

She didn’t get any further, because the Great Khan spoke for her.

“…I have come to the conclusion that, in this case, I will set aside the old traditions and rules. I grant you, Garra, permission to ask for Emily’s hand in marriage before me.”

He said in a tone that was, by his standards, incredibly calm, while Emily almost tensed up with sheer joy. The jaguar’s eyes widened as he realized the implications of this permission, but before he could say anything, the Great Khan continued, holding his daughter a little tighter so she wouldn’t rush straight over to him.

“However, I have one condition.”

He explained, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts one last time. Garra nodded briefly.

“Emily is my youngest daughter, one of only two children I will ever have. You will keep her safe from all harm; you will protect her; you will always be by her side. You will never cause her any harm, or hurt her in any other way ‒ or may the ancestors be merciful to you, for I will not!”

Said the Great Khan in a tone that brooked no contradiction, and out of the corner of his eye, Garra could see Pecada making the familiar “I’m watching you” gesture. He couldn’t help but smile. Of course, the Khan wanted to know that his youngest daughter was protected and in good hands, and it was his right to test him ‒ he would have done exactly the same. Finally, he nodded, looking first at Emily, who seemed to be trembling inside, then at the Great Khan, who stood behind her like an all-powerful protector, and then he knelt down and bowed his head.

“Great Khan…”

He began, looking up at the ruler of the jungle, while Emily almost crushed her father’s hand.

“…I hereby ask for the hand of your youngest daughter. I vow to protect her and keep her safe from all harm. I will always be by her side and never harm her. I place my life in your hands.”

He continued, bowing his head once more as he concluded. When the jaguar had finished his plea, the Great Khan looked at Emily, and she met his gaze. Her eyes were practically begging him, and he could not break the promise he had made to her. One last time, he swallowed his pride and looked down at Garra, who was still kneeling before them.

“Stand up, Garra Ligera. My son-in-law does not kneel before me.”

He finally said softly and kindly, whereupon the jaguar slowly rose and stood up straight. His relief was obvious, and when the Great Khan removed his hands from Emily’s shoulders, there was no holding her back. The young tigress practically leaped into Garra’s arms, and he caught her and held her tightly. Emily literally buried herself in his chest, and there was no longer any doubt about the young tigress’s love. Garra wrapped his strong arms around her delicate body and tenderly rested his head on hers. It felt like an eternity since they’d last embraced, and she never wanted to let him go again.

Meanwhile, the Great Khan nodded gently, and he actually looked happy.

Finally, it was Amelia who broke the silence.

“That’s all well and good, but either Emily gets her own room with Garra now, or I get my own! There’s no way I’m sharing a room with those two!”

She exclaimed, though her feigned indignation didn’t fool anyone, and Pecada couldn’t hold back her laughter. Even the Great Khan, though he kept his composure, couldn’t quite suppress a grin. Emily, meanwhile, giggled and snuggled closer to “her” jaguar, who lifted his head again and looked at Amelia with a smile. He opened his arms and beckoned them all closer to him. The two tigresses gladly accepted the invitation and shared the warm embrace, for they could see how happy Emily was now. Only the Great Khan hesitated, but finally he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, steeled himself, and walked the few steps over to the rest of his family and Garra.

As the Khan’s priestesses led their new allies through the temple’s winding corridors, the jaguars were quite amazed at just how large the temple actually was. Most of them had spent the better part of their lives under the open sky, and even when they had a permanent dwelling, it was often nothing more than a simple shelter, since they had to change locations so frequently. The Temple of the Tigers was literally the largest building they had ever seen. For many, it was unimaginable that such a large building existed, let alone that it was already so old.

“Please excuse my curiosity, but is it really true that these hunters ‒ what do you call them again…”

One of the jaguars began his question to one of the young priestesses who was leading them to their quarters. The tigress smiled gently before answering:

“Nea-Phi-Lim ‒ in the runes, they call themselves Nea-Phi-Lim.”

The jaguar nodded eagerly.

“…yes, exactly, that’s right. Nea-Phi-Lim‒that’s what Garra called them, too. So is it true that they built this temple?”

He asked, and instantly he had the attention of several other jaguars. The priestess continued to smile and nodded slightly.

“Well, of course we can’t say for certain, since we don’t know if someone else might have inhabited these walls before the Nea-Phi-Lim, but all the reliefs and inscriptions that can still be found and deciphered today suggest that the Nea-Phi-Lim built this temple and inhabited it for a very long time before they abandoned it, for reasons unknown to us. The fact is, before we Tigers claimed it for ourselves, it had stood empty for a very long time.”

She explained in a calm voice, pointing to the inscriptions and carvings found all over the walls. The jaguars looked around, some examining the strange runes and the wall paintings, some of which appeared very primitive.

“And you can read these runes?”

Asked one of the jaguars, who couldn’t make head or tail of the completely unfamiliar-looking characters. The young tigress made a vague gesture and pointed to some runes on a nearby wall.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it reading; it’s more of an interpretation. We’ve spent a long time studying the various runes and have discovered that certain runes appear repeatedly in the same sequences, sometimes in correlation with reliefs and other pictorial representations. This has allowed us to draw conclusions about possible meanings. Those over there are the runes that correspond to ‘jaguar.’”

She explained, pointing to a sequence of three runes, and those listening to her looked at the runes she had indicated.

“You read them something like this: Cha-Tol-Gdul.”

When they heard the priestess pronounce the runes, the Jaguars looked at her with wide eyes.

“Sch… scha-tool-geduhl…?”

One of the jaguars tried, and the priestess nodded eagerly and encouragingly.

“Yes, almost, but the ‘Cha’ comes further back in the throat, almost like a hiss; the ‘O’ in ‘Tol’ is a little shorter and requires a bit more tongue; and the ‘G’ in ‘Gdul’ is almost silent.”

She explained with a smile, and the jaguar nodded before trying again.

“Cha-T… Tol-Gduul…?”

The tigress nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, much better ‒ you’re talented. It usually takes days, if not weeks, to learn the correct pronunciation of these runes.”

She praised him, but then gestured down the corridor, where the rest of the group had already gone quite a distance ahead, whereupon they hurried to catch up with the others.

“If you’re interested, we can certainly practice this a little more if time allows.”

She finally offered, and the jaguars expressed keen interest in understanding the runes better. They agreed to meet that evening in one of the courtyards, where the priestess would teach them how to interpret the runes, but first she would show them to their quarters, and later they would have supper together.

After the priestesses had led the jaguars through the temple to the barracks, they were assigned one of the large dormitories there, where they could make themselves at home for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t quite the privacy that some of the jaguars would have preferred, but it was a solid roof over their heads, and the bunks were surprisingly comfortable. Later, the Tigers’ quartermasters would take each of them under their wing and supply them with equipment, but for the moment, the healers and priestesses would first attend to the new arrivals and tend to their guests’ existing wounds and injuries.

Most of the Jaguars had only sustained bruises and superficial wounds, but some of them were seriously injured as well, and even though the healer at the camp had already provided basic treatment, these cases required more extensive care. The Jaguars gratefully accepted the help offered, which also helped build trust between the two factions.

Fortunately, none of the injuries were so severe that they would be confined to a bunk, and the healers were certain that all the jaguars would make a full recovery now that they were receiving adequate medical care and food, as well as the rest they needed to heal.

Once all this was taken care of, the priestesses withdrew and left the jaguars to themselves. They would come for them later, as soon as the first real test began: the first communal supper.

Although the jaguars had already shared two meals with the tigers at the outpost, that was in no way comparable to what they would experience later. Until now, they had been accustomed to hunting their food, eating it immediately, hiding the leftovers, or ‒ if necessary ‒ defending it against rivals. Only rarely were they able to eat in larger groups and voluntarily share their food with others.

Garra had already told them a thing or two about the tigers’ way of life, and they knew that their new allies usually ate their meals together and always shared their food with one another. There was no longer any food jealousy among the tigers, and this had helped them grow as a community.

When the Khan’s priestesses finally returned to the jaguars to fetch them for the evening meal, they were quite calm and explained that there were a few minor details to keep in mind during the meal. They would assign each of them a tiger to guide them through the evening’s rituals, since all of this would be new territory for them. The newcomers greeted the priestesses with a mixture of curiosity and gratitude, but also with a certain sense of anticipation, coupled with uncertainty and doubt as to whether they would be able to handle it all. The tigresses, however, went to great lengths to dispel these doubts; they were certain that there would be no problems whatsoever.

They were led through the temple once more, and this time they encountered far more tigers along the way. When asked where all these tigers had been before, the priestesses explained that the Great Khan had ordered that every tiger capable of fighting undergo rigorous training. The goal was to ensure that the fighting force was in the best possible condition before facing the Nea-Phi-Lim. However, the priestesses assured their guests that the Great Khan would certainly address this matter in greater detail later.

A short time later, they reached the great hall, whose large double doors were already wide open, offering a view of the interior. The tigers had completely redecorated the hall once again. Now a huge table dominated the large room. Benches and chairs were arranged around it, and there were still a few tigers busy setting the table.

Many tigers were already gathered in the hall, and when the jaguars, led by the priestesses, entered, their conversations fell silent for a moment. All the Tigers present turned to face them, but much to their surprise, they were met not with suspicion or hostility ‒ on the contrary, the Tigers seemed genuinely pleased to welcome them. Most nodded respectfully, but remained among their own kind for the time being. The priestesses finally assigned them their seats, and the jaguars made their way to the table, where the tigers gradually joined them. What followed was that almost uncomfortable silence that sets in when you don’t know exactly what to talk about and simply don’t dare to bring up a topic for fear of embarrassing the other person.

Fortunately, chance came to their aid, for the Great Khan and his entourage entered the Great Hall at that very moment. The leader of the tigers seemed to be in high spirits and wore a simple yet elegant robe that underscored his status within their community without drawing undue attention to it. His concubines, who, like him, seemed to be in high spirits, followed him, also wearing simple robes, and took their seats around the table ‒ all except Pecada. Amelia and Emily, who entered the hall behind the concubines, wore plain robes and were engaged in lively conversation. Garra was the last to enter the great hall, and for a moment, silence fell over the room. The mighty warrior was dressed in a robe that elevated him to a status similar to that of the Great Khan, and although he did not seem unhappy, he did not yet appear to be entirely at ease with this arrangement.

As the Great Khan made his way to his customary seat, his daughters flanked him; but instead of Pecada, Garra sat to Emily’s left this time, while the first concubine took her seat to the right of her eldest daughter. The Great Khan, however, paused and looked around the room. The great hall was filled to capacity; it was a glorious sight, even though he would have preferred to see it filled with tigers. He waited a moment longer and then slowly raised his hands until, after a while, silence finally fell.

“I would like to welcome you all once again to these halls. This will be our first meal together. It is a special occasion for several reasons. Certainly, it offers a first, deep insight into our community, but above all, it is the first time in well over 200 years that our two species have shared a home and a table. The first time in so long that peace reigns between the most powerful hunters of this jungle, and even if this peace was forced upon us by a common enemy and did not arise of our own accord, we should celebrate it nonetheless. And as if that weren’t enough, all these circumstances have also brought me a son-in-law today whom no one here would ever have expected. He defies every one of our traditions, but he is also yet another example of how we can overcome our prejudices and misunderstandings if we only want to. He will be the bridge that connects our two species, even far beyond this conflict.”

He announced in a solemn voice, pointing to Emily and Garra, whereupon a murmur spread among those present. The tigers had more or less known about it ‒ it was an open secret at this point ‒ but now that it had been officially announced, the whole thing took on a completely different tone. Not every tiger was one hundred percent in favor of this pairing, but they couldn’t object ‒ the Khan had given his blessing. For the jaguars, on the other hand, it was completely unexpected news, and some of them were downright shocked, but before they could get too worked up about it, the Great Khan continued:

“May this day mark the beginning of a new era. An era of cooperation, not hostility.”

He added, and a murmur of agreement answered him. He looked around and nodded with satisfaction before signaling to one of the tigers at the large portal doors and taking his seat. He hadn’t even settled into his seat yet when the doors opened and several tigers entered the hall. Between them, they carried large planks piled high with vast quantities of meat. They slowly made their way down the rows, and as they paused before each of those present to serve them their share of the meal, the jaguars’ eyes glazed over. Never before had they seen so much meat piled up in one place.

“Honor the sacrifice.”

Whispered the bearers, and each of the tigers replied with a whispered:

“I honor the sacrifice.”

The jaguars, who had been instructed to follow the tigers’ example, repeated the phrase and wondered why the tigers did not begin to eat. Each portion lay untouched on the tigers’ plates; only after everyone had received their meat did the Great Khan rise again and lift his plate. As he then spoke the traditional words, his voice sounded reverent.

“I honor your sacrifice ‒ the sacrifice you willingly made for the community. May your nobility teach me humility. I consume your body so that your soul may find peace in the afterlife. Your flesh will strengthen my body so that I, too, may protect your family. No sacrifice will go unanswered.”

As their leader spoke these words, all the tigers silently repeated them, and only when he sat down again and set his plates before him did the tigers begin to eat. The jaguars were visibly confused, but ate just as heartily. For most of the jaguars, it was a completely new experience not to tear their meat directly from the still-warm carcass of their prey. Having their food presented on a plate, pre-portioned and deboned, felt wrong for the moment, but it was certainly something they could get used to.

When they had finally nearly finished their meal, one of the jaguars turned to the priestess beside him.

“Please excuse my ignorance, but what did the Great Khan mean by ‘No sacrifice goes unanswered’?”

He asked quietly, seeming genuinely surprised and curious. The priestess smiled gently and pointed to the meat lying on all the plates.

“This meat, just like all the other meat you’ll eat here, is a sacrifice ‒ a tribute that the herbivores in this territory voluntarily offer us so that we no longer have to hunt and can focus entirely on protecting our territory ‒ and, by extension, them as well.”

She explained quietly and respectfully, whereupon the jaguar looked at his plate, where the rest of his portion lay; his gaze then briefly swept around the room before settling back on the priestess.

“Wait… this meat isn’t from a successful hunt?”

He asked again, now looking genuinely confused, but the priestess slowly shook her head.

“No, in fact, the herbivores send us one member from each tribe every other week to be eaten by us. As I said, it’s a tribute to the lasting peace between them and us. The Great Khan, who sealed the pact with them back then, made it possible for both the herbivores and us to live together in peace and prosperity. Well, of course there have been minor difficulties from time to time, but never before have both sides of this equation lived together in such harmony.”

She explained calmly, gesturing toward the rest of her own share.

“And for that, we are infinitely grateful to the herbivores. We pay our respects to those who voluntarily walk the path of all flesh, for they are truly brave and strong.”

She added, nodding once more to emphasize her point, while the jaguar stared at her with wide eyes and an open mouth before looking back down at his own plate.

“They… they come willingly? They come to you and let themselves be slaughtered? Just like that?”

He finally asked, and he could hardly believe it, but the priestess nodded gently once more.

“Yes, they come willingly; no one forces them. They understand that if we had to hunt them, even more of them would die, and they wouldn’t be able to decide whom we should kill. This way, they can send us the old and the weak ‒ those who have already served the community. But you’ll be able to see it for yourselves, because at the next new moon, the path will open again, and you’ll see how the lamb comes to the beast and willingly lays its head on the executioner’s block.”

The priestess explained quietly, her voice taking on a solemn undertone. The jaguar took it all in and nodded silently. This was all something he hadn’t expected. He looked at the meat he had been carelessly devouring just a moment ago. Of course, he had spoken the words just as the tigers had told him to, but he hadn’t attached any further meaning to them. To him, it had been a harmless, even downright casual ritual they performed before eating, but he hadn’t expected this explanation ‒ that the herbivores had come to them of their own free will and chosen death to preserve peace for the community. He took his meat, and as he ate it, he truly realized for the first time what it meant to belong to this community. He would have to give this some thought and talk to the others about it.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. After dinner, the jaguars were given a tour of the temple. The priestesses leading the tour explained the individual areas to them and pointed out the few sections of the structure to which they would not be granted access for various reasons. The Jaguars followed their guides attentively the entire time and explored the temple with great interest.

When they finally reached the inner courtyards where the Tigers trained for battle, they saw that some of them were already back to their training regimen. When they asked whether they would be allowed to train there as well, they were told that they were, of course, welcome to train with their new allies as soon as they felt ready. Furthermore, it would even be encouraged if the jaguars made full use of the opportunity to train with the tigers in order to familiarize themselves with their weapons and tactics. Only then would they form the most effective army possible together with their allies. It was essential that all members of the unit be at a similar level.

Most of the Jaguars were strongly in favor of joint training; they were convinced they could learn a great deal from one another. And in the event that their alliance fell apart again after the conflict with the Nea-Phi-Lim, it wouldn’t hurt to know the enemy’s tactics.

However, they all agreed that it would be best to maintain this alliance even after the conflict ended. All for the greater good.

In fact, the jaguars settled into life at the temple relatively quickly, even though there were a few minor incidents at the beginning ‒ which both sides handled with patience. The newcomers quickly got used to channeling their energy into training rather than sleeping with one eye open and keeping a constant lookout for prey every day.

As a result, the training facilities were used intensively almost around the clock in the days following their arrival. The tigers and their allies quickly began training with and against one another. At first, the groups remained relatively separate, but soon small cliques emerged that harmonized particularly well with one another and thus achieved better results. However, since the training courtyards in the temple had never been designed for so many warriors, a small but not insignificant problem arose relatively quickly: not all warriors could train at the same time. This problem, however, resolved itself almost as quickly as it arose. The individual groups took turns in the courtyards, and while one group trained, the other observed; if they noticed mistakes, they pointed them out to one another. This had the indirect benefit of making the warriors’ training even more efficient.

At the same time, a certain rivalry developed between the individual training groups, though this rivalry wasn’t necessarily limited to the Tigers and Jaguars ‒ it also existed among the members of each group themselves. No one knew exactly who had started it, but one morning the Tigers found a parchment nailed to one of the gallows that read:

“I destroyed two training dummies, broke a club, and then did another one hundred and twenty push-ups, you wimps!”

This was a direct challenge to anyone who read the parchment, and soon both Tigers and Jaguars set out to surpass this supposed feat. By now, there were leaderboards tracking various achievements, and whenever one of the warriors broke a record, the cheers of his comrades could be heard throughout the temple.

The Great Khan observed all of this with approval and not without a certain pride. He would be able to lead into this conflict the strongest, toughest, and most capable army the jungle had seen since the end of the Great War. He only hoped that this would be enough to defeat this still-incomprehensible enemy.

He had ordered his army to train for as long as possible. He wanted to lead the best possible fighting force into battle. The Great Khan had consulted at length with his staff and also with the captain of the guard, and they had agreed that there was little point in waging a long, protracted campaign against the Nea-Phi-Lim. They could only lose such a war. They would put all their eggs in one basket and try to defeat the enemy in a single decisive battle and then drive them back into the mountains ‒ or even annihilate them entirely ‒ though the Great Khan was painfully aware that they would likely fail. So far, they had no information on how many Nea-Phi-Lim there actually were, since no one had yet captured or killed one of them. It was possible that there were only a handful of them, but it was just as likely that there were thousands. For better or worse, they would have to settle for dealing the enemy a decisive blow and driving them back as far as possible, in the hope that they would not return so quickly.

Once they had driven the enemy back, they would reinforce the border with the mountains and make it impassable, so that even if the Nea-Phi-Lim were to return, they could simply drive them away again.

The first week of joint training had already yielded astonishing progress, and it was already evident that the different species were working together better. Thanks to the internal rivalries and the resulting motivation, it was ensured that this progress would continue and the force’s combat effectiveness would be further improved.

As the night of the new moon finally approached, the mood in the temple changed noticeably. The Tigers became calmer and seemed more introspective, while the priestesses began preparing the Tigers’ headquarters for the impending opening of the Path. This was something entirely new for the Jaguars. As evening fell over the jungle, silence descended upon the Temple of the Tigers, for most of the warriors left the temple along with a contingent of priestesses; the rest were condemned, along with the jaguars, to watch the proceedings from the sidelines while the priestesses donned their ceremonial robes and awaited the arrival of the tributes. They could watch as the path slowly lit up, and a short time later, the procession began, leading the herbivores up from the valley to the temple and to their deaths. Since some of the Tigers had fallen during the preceding weeks, the gaps were filled by some of the Jaguar warriors.

They stood with the tigers at the edge of the path, holding the torches that illuminated the way for all flesh, while the tributes, led by the tiger priestesses, made their way along the path to the temple in their silent procession.

When the procession finally passed by the jaguars as well, and they saw the herbivores ‒ shrouded in black hooded cloaks ‒ passing by in complete silence, an icy shiver ran down their spines. A completely new, unprecedented respect for the courage and strength of these herbivores came over them as they realized that they would never be able to walk into death with their eyes open and still remain so calm and composed.

After the last tributes had passed them by, they joined the procession, as tradition demanded, and suddenly the path back to the temple seemed so much longer and steeper to the jaguars than they had thought possible. Following the tigers’ example, they, too, remained completely still the entire time, and when they finally arrived at the temple gate ‒ which loomed over them all like a silent, dark monument to death ‒ they extinguished their torches. While the tigers silently withdrew back to the barracks, one of the jaguars lingered at the gate, watching the tributes depart. Cautiously, he followed the congregation, but when he reached the colonnade leading to the great courtyard, one of the large guards held him back.

“No, my friend, on the days when the path is open, we are not allowed to enter the courtyard. It belongs only to the Tributes and the priestesses. We honor the ancient agreement by which we promised to treat them with the utmost respect. They should relax and know that we honor the sacrifice they are willing to make.”

The guard whispered, and the jaguar beside him nodded, though he couldn’t take his eyes off the herbivores gathered in the courtyard. He understood what the tiger was trying to explain to him as he watched the individual tributes spread out across the courtyard and take their seats on the benches provided. To him, it was unbelievable that they could remain so calm and surrender so completely to their fate.

“Are … are they always this quiet?”

He finally asked, and you could clearly hear the respect in his voice. The guard turned around and looked out into the courtyard as well.

“Don’t be fooled. They’re filled with fear. They know they’re going to die. Once someone enters this temple, they never leave alive. As soon as they pass through the red doors beyond the courtyard, they die. Only the knowledge that their willing sacrifice will bring a happy life to their families, and the knowledge that we will treat their sacrifice with the utmost respect, enables them to rise above themselves and show the courage you see here. But one wrong move, just one wrong sound, and they’ll panic. That’s why only selected priestesses are allowed to participate in the rituals. We promised the herbivores that the death they will suffer will be painless and dignified.”

The guard explained quietly, pointing to the platform in the center of the courtyard. There, they could just see the priestesses emerging from the red doors and walking into the center of the courtyard to deliver their speech. The Jaguar heard them extend the High Priestess’s invitation and the red doors open. For a brief moment, the Jaguar held his breath before one of the herbivores rose silently and, without another word or hesitation, stepped through the red doors. He was surprised to realize just how shocked he was that the tribute walked through that door with such composure, while the priestesses thanked him for his sacrifice for the community and his courage. It wasn’t long before the doors opened again and another herbivore rose just as silently, only to continue on his final walk.

The tiger at his side could see how overwhelmed the jaguar was by the entire situation and beckoned to one of the priestesses who was just coming down the corridor, entrusting the spotted one to her in the hope that she would be able to bring him back down to earth. When she returned him to his fellow jaguars a short while later, he already looked much more relaxed. Word quickly spread among the jaguars about exactly what had happened during the opening of the path, and they were all shocked and humbled at the same time. They had already learned that the herbivores had sacrificed themselves voluntarily, but the way it happened commanded even greater respect from them.

While his fellow jaguars had to watch from the sidelines, Garra ‒ who spent most of his free time with Emily and her family ‒ gained a different perspective on the opening of the path. As a quasi-member of the Great Khan’s family, he had a much deeper insight into all matters concerning the temple and everything that took place within it. The High Priestess herself had explained the rituals to him in detail and shown him the chambers through which the tributes passed on their way to the sacrificial altar. He had stood before the large, stone altar on which the tributes were ultimately sacrificed, had placed his trembling hands on the blood-red granite, and had struggled greatly to control his breathing.

He had then expressed his desire to thank the herbivores for their sacrifice and to promise them that they would do everything in their power to avert the impending catastrophe and drive out the Nea-Phi-Lim.

Since a final meeting with the Herbivores was already planned before the major offensive, it was easy for the Great Khan to arrange an opportunity for Garra to thank them. When the Herbivore delegations arrived at the Tigers’ stronghold this time, the mood was entirely different. By now, it had become clear to them as well that the Nea-Phi-Lim posed an existential threat to them all and that they would never be able to stand up to them.

When Garra expressed his sincere gratitude ‒ also on behalf of his fellow jaguars ‒ to the herbivores who traveled the path every other week, they gladly accepted it. In return, however, they insisted that the carnivores address the threat as soon as possible, for they would not shoulder this additional burden forever.

Both the Great Khan and Garra ‒ who at that time served as something of an unofficial leader of the jaguars ‒ acknowledged their responsibility and promised that they would launch the offensive as soon as possible.

They would wait another week, gather new intelligence once more, and prepare their army for the current situation before finally striking.

None of them had any idea at that point just how much this one battle would change the face of the jungle and their community.

…

That final week before the Great Khan led his forces into battle was marked by the frantic bustle of a war machine running at full speed. The scouts were sent out with the mission to reconnoiter the border regions one last time and, at the same time, to inform the tribes of local herbivores that the Khan’s army would soon be going to war. While the scouts crept across the border, the Great Khan ordered a muster of his forces, and all combat-ready tigers and jaguars whose services were not absolutely required for other tasks were called to arms. Furthermore, the tigers’ quartermasters were busy around the clock finishing the very armor and weapons for their forces, so that every tiger and every jaguar would be equipped as well as possible.

The Khan’s warriors wore their armor with pride, even though they were fairly certain that the armor, made of wood and leather, stood no chance against the Nea-Phi-Lim’s barrage. And yet, the psychological effect of wearing such armor could not be underestimated, and after all, they had no prior experience with their opponents’ capabilities in close combat.

When the muster was completed on the eve of the final day, the Great Khan and Garra surveyed their army. Over 300 warriors were gathered in the temple’s large inner courtyard ‒ tigers and jaguars, both male and female ‒ warriors just old enough to go to war, as well as veterans heading into their very last battle. The Khan’s entire guard, as well as many of his priestesses and concubines, were among them, ready to give their lives for their community should it come to that. Among the jaguars, there were ultimately only two whom the Khan had forbidden from joining the army, even though both had vehemently resisted the decision. One was a young man who was still far too young to risk his life in this battle, and the other was a jaguaress who had turned out to be pregnant. Garra had understood the protests of his fellow jaguars, but ultimately agreed with the Great Khan. Both would remain in the temple and wait for those returning victorious. Together with Pecada and Emily.

Pecada hadn’t protested; she knew that the Khan’s word on this matter was final. She would remain in the temple and look after Emily, who ‒ unlike her ‒ had screamed blue murder when her father announced his decision to leave her behind in the temple once again. The Khan’s youngest daughter had taken her anger out on him, and he had stoically endured it until she was too exhausted to keep yelling at him; only then had he explained it to her:

“Emily, I understand your anger and respect your courage, but you must stay in the temple. Amelia will accompany me, for she is my heir and direct successor. Should I fall in battle, our warriors will follow her.”

He had explained this calmly and matter-of-factly, but Emily refused to back down.

“No, no, I won’t accept this! When you left me behind and went to the camp, I understood ‒ there were things to learn ‒ but now… you’re going to war… and I’m by far the better warrior than Amelia… if anyone from us is to accompany you, then… then it’s me… and… and…”

She croaked hoarsely, her shouting repeatedly interrupted by sobs.

“…if I should fall, then Amelia will still be here… that’s what’s best for our empire!”

She protested, and her father had to admit that he had no counterargument to that reasoning. He took a deep breath and opened his arms.

“Emily, child, what you’re saying isn’t wrong.”

He began, taking his youngest daughter into his arms.

“But this is about far more than just our kingdom. If I were to go by who the best and strongest fighters in my army are, then I wouldn’t even be leading the army ‒ but as the Great Khan, it is my duty to lead the army into battle, for our warriors will follow me without hesitation. The same goes for your sister. She has been destined for this task from birth. Besides…”

he explained, planting a kiss on her head.

“Besides, you already have a partner in Garra ‒ one who can only fight properly when he knows you’re safe here, and who fights even harder because he wants to come back to you. Your sister, she…”

He left the last sentence unfinished when he saw Pecada shaking her head, whereupon he pressed his lips together and kissed Emily on the head once more.

Emily had tried to protest further, but had finally given up, feeling dejected. Only after Garra had spoken to her once more, reaffirming her father’s arguments and promising to take care of himself and Amelia, did she reluctantly agree to stay at the temple.

The next day, it was finally time for the Great Khan and his army to say goodbye. All the tigers and jaguars who would remain in the temple had gathered at the temple’s main entrance to bid the warriors farewell and wish them good luck for the upcoming battle. Many tears were shed, and some of the tigers were reluctant to let their fellow tigers go, but they all knew that this was the only chance they had left to stop the Nea-Phi-Lim. And when the final words of farewell had finally been spoken, the Great Khan, together with Amelia and Garra, led the army out of the temple.

On their way to the eastern territories, they would rest at the camp and evaluate the latest reports from the scouts before integrating them, as well as the captain of the guard, into the fighting force.

The scouts had managed to locate the Nea-Phi-Lim’s current hunting grounds and convey the news of the army’s imminent arrival to the herbivores in that area, but unfortunately, it had not been so easy to persuade them to help the tigers and jaguars in their battle. The elders among the herbivores wanted proof of the army’s effectiveness before sending their own warriors into a battle that would claim more lives than it would yield benefits.

Once again disappointed by the herbivores’ stubbornness, the Great Khan finally led his army across the border and into battle without their support. At least they wouldn’t have to march too far, since the area the scouts had reconnoitered was not very far from the border of their territory. It had therefore been high time to seek out this decisive battle; a few more days and the Nea-Phi-Lim would have been standing on their doorstep and would have begun attacking their border posts. This way, they would still be taking the fight to the enemy, remaining on the offensive rather than ceding the initiative.

It was in the early dawn when the Great Khan finally led his forces onto the battlefield, and it wasn’t long before the first shots from the Nea-Phi-Lim rang out and their bullets flew through the ranks of the carnivores. Unlike usual, however, those under fire did not retreat; instead, spurred on by this early attack, the Great Khan drove his warriors forward into battle with a loud roar. Like a wild hunt, the big cats charged across the open field, attempting to close the distance to their cowardly enemies as quickly as possible. As they ran toward their opponents at full speed, their deafening roar drowned out even the thunderous clang of the Nea-Phi-Lim’s weapons; by all appearances, the Nea-Phi-Lim were not as surprised by the attack as the Great Khan had hoped. The return fire with which they rained down upon the army of big cats was precise and intense, and many of the warriors were struck down and brought to the ground during this initial sprint, while the rest of the army remained undeterred and continued to advance toward the enemy’s position.

The impact, as the Big Cats finally covered the last few meters and crashed into the ranks of their enemies, was like a meteorite striking the Earth. Most of the Nea-Phi-Lim were literally overrun and killed in the brief skirmish that followed. The few who escaped this initial exchange of blows were hunted down and swiftly and mercilessly killed.

As the initial dust settled and it became clear that this first confrontation had gone very much in the big cats’ favor ‒ and that the Nea-Phi-Lim were indeed far inferior to them in close combat ‒ a certain sense of joy arose among them, even though their losses were already considerable.

In this first brief skirmish, the Nea-Phi-Lim had managed to wound or kill over 50 of its approximately 300 warriors. These were alarming figures, considering that far fewer of these cowardly hunters lay dead at their feet.

Even as the healers were busy patching up the wounded, the Great Khan ordered the army to take up the pursuit of the enemy. The wounded who were able to rejoin the battle would follow shortly; the others would drag the Nea-Phi-Lim carcasses to the herbivore tribes to prove to them that the Nea-Phi-Lim could be killed.

The Khan hoped that this would convince these stubborn herbivores to join the fight, thereby significantly increasing the number of his warriors. Furthermore, he had not yet given up hope that perhaps one or two Jaguars who had not yet been able to bring themselves to do so might also join the force.

For the time being, however, they would have to make do with what they had as they continued to advance into the jungle and pursue the enemy. They did not want to give the Nea-Phi-Lim time to regroup and launch a counterattack. They would maintain the pressure and continue to drive them back, across the fields and through the jungle, all the way to the mountains, where they would likely have to call off the pursuit.

The increasingly dense vegetation offered one advantage: even the Nea-Phi-Lim no longer had a clear, unobstructed line of fire, so the Khan’s warriors were able to take cover behind the trees while they continued to advance relentlessly, attacking every position and every single one of these hunters they encountered. They were successful and forced the enemy to retreat, but it soon became clear that the Nea-Phi-Lim now knew they were being attacked and pushed back by a military force. They decided to fall back in echelon formation, maintaining constant fire on the advancing warriors as they retreated.

Driven by the determination to put an end to the threat once and for all and not give them the chance to regain even a single meter of ground, the Great Khan drove his army ever forward.

As the day wore on, it became apparent that pursuing an enemy that was constantly retreating tactically over long distances was fraught with difficulties. Not only did the constantly high pace take a toll on the warriors’ endurance, but over time, casualties also rose due to the constant fire from the Nea-Phi-Lim, while the enemy’s losses remained relatively low.

Although the army had not yet been weakened to the point where the Great Khan had to fear for its effectiveness, every additional loss was painful, as they had no way to replace them and the force’s striking power was irrevocably diminished. Even though the dense jungle vegetation helped ensure that not every enemy shot hit its mark, it also prevented the tigers and jaguars from utilizing their greatest strength: their speed. This allowed the Nea-Phi-Lim, who were more familiar with this terrain, to retreat quickly and in an orderly fashion from one position to the next.

It was already late afternoon when the army of big cats pursued the enemy to another clearing. The trap was predictable, but there was no time, no way to tactically outmaneuver it, and so the Great Khan spurred his army on with a deafening roar and charged across the open plain.

They had not yet fully left the jungle when their opponents’ barrage began. Once again, warriors fell victim to the merciless hail of bullets, and once again they did not slow down but ran even faster across the field until, at the other end of the clearing, they broke through the ranks of the Nea-Phi-Lim and wrought a bloodbath among them. But this time, too, the enemy took flight and had to be pursued. Once more, the army gave chase to kill every last one of them.

“Damn it all … they’re like water, slipping through our fingers …”

shouted the Great Khan, leaping over a fallen tree trunk at full speed as he pursued a fleeing Nea-Phi-Lim who was frantically fumbling with his weapon. Some of his bodyguards were right behind him, bellowing their contempt and rage at the fleeing enemy. The big cats were much faster runners than these strange, stooped creatures, and so the Khan caught up to his prey relatively quickly, grabbed him from behind, and spun him around with a furious hiss, only to smash his skull with his claw-tipped mace at that very moment. The enemy slumped lifelessly to the ground, and the leader of the tigers paid him no further attention. The rearguard would make sure he was truly dead. He could not enjoy his triumph, however, for he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye, raised his mace, and shouted:

“Follow me ‒ don’t let them escape. It’s now or never!”

His roar thundered through the jungle, spurring his warriors on as he turned and resumed the pursuit. The tigers and jaguars of his army joined in his roar and charged forward.

For a moment, it seemed as though they had broken the Nea-Phi-Lim’s resistance, for the few they saw fleeing before them were no longer firing back. It was a complete, panicked retreat, with the creatures fleeing in utter disarray. Spurred on by this supposed victory, the Khan rallied his forces and charged ahead before his bodyguards could keep up with him.

The fleeing creatures did not look back as they broke through a bush and disappeared from view, which only further enraged the mighty tiger. Ancient instincts drove him forward, and with a triumphant roar, he too leaped through the thicket ‒ but before he reached the other side, three projectiles from the Nea-Phi-Lim, who had been lurking behind the hedge, struck him. The Great Khan was thrown back by the force of the impact and staggered backward out of the thicket, while more shots rang out around him, piercing through the undergrowth.

He let out a guttural, choked scream as he and two of his bodyguards fell to the ground, having also been struck by the hail of bullets. Meanwhile, behind the thicket, the Nea-Phi-Lim cheered, certain they had taken out the army’s leader.

Amelia, who had fought right behind her father for the entire battle, had to watch as he was hurled backward through the thicket and crashed hard to the ground. She didn’t need to look any closer to know exactly what had happened: The enemy ‒ those cowardly creatures ‒ had figured out who was leading their army and had drawn the only logical conclusion: that an army without a leader would inevitably fall into disarray and become an easier target.

The idea itself wasn’t wrong ‒ any other army without a commander would likely have fallen into disarray, lost momentum, and eventually called off the attack ‒ but not this army, not the Khan’s warriors.

The shock that Amelia felt at her father’s fall lasted only the blink of an eye before she raised her sword and roared to her troops:

“For the Khan… For the Greater Good!”

Even before her cry had faded, she charged forward again and took command of the force, just as was expected of her as the rightful heir to the throne. She swallowed her grief and used it to fuel the fire of her hatred. She would mourn later, when all this was over.

Behind her rang the thunderous roar of her warriors, who once again followed her into battle.

Anger and rage can be powerful motivators, driving a warrior to push beyond their limits, and that was exactly what was happening here. The hatred and fury directed at this alien enemy, the Nea-Phi-Lim, made the tigers and jaguars forget their exhaustion and drove them forward, even after a full day of fighting.

With Amelia at their head, the big cats broke through the thicket and overran the completely surprised first line of defense of the Nea-Phi-Lim, whose warriors were still busy reloading their weapons. As she had already suspected, these creatures had not fallen back any further, since they had believed the force would halt its advance following the death of their leader. They hadn’t anticipated such a relentless advance.

Amelia didn’t even bother with this first line; she simply bypassed it ‒ the troops following behind would take care of them. Accompanied by a small spearhead of her army, she broke through into the center of the enemy position.

They hadn’t even realized at first that they had already advanced so far, but over the course of the day they had pushed the Nea-Phi-Lim back so far that they had reached their forward outposts. The camp itself was a haphazard collection of shelters protecting a hodgepodge of crates and workbenches from the nightly rain. The fires had not yet been lit, but some of the hunters were already busy stoking the fire pits with wood, while most of the others here were primarily occupied with managing the supplies and weapons of those on the front lines who were responsible for expanding their sphere of influence. There was a palpable sense of excitement among the Nea-Phi-Lim, for they had only just heard of the big cats’ attack. They had assumed that the army would call off its attack once it had suffered sufficient losses, which is why the hunters on the front lines had sent out messengers much later than they should have, once it became clear that this attack would not be quite so easy to stop.

When the Khan’s warriors finally broke through the last, improvised line of defense, they were completely unprepared for an attack on the camp. The few hunters who had been in the camp at that time were actually there to stock up on ammunition and have their weapons serviced. They had been hastily organized into a defensive line and sent to face the army. They were overrun almost instantly.

Led by Amelia, the big cats stormed into the camp and wreaked havoc among the Nea-Phi-Lim present. The creatures were hopelessly outmatched by the tigers and jaguars in close combat, and every one of them who found themselves face-to-face with a warrior was mercilessly cut down.

While her warriors tore the camp apart, Amelia stood in the center of the camp, trying to get a grasp of the situation. She roared out orders and directed her troops when she saw him: The Nea-Phi-Lim was just rounding the corner of one of the encampments, fiddling with his weapon. It was her first opportunity to take a closer look at one of them rather than simply striking it down in passing. It was, in fact, an incredibly ugly creature. Apparently unable to stand fully upright, it always walked slightly bent forward, and just as Garras had described, it had almost no fur, and the skin covering its body was pale and leathery. The long, narrow snout protruding from its face was filled with crooked teeth, and the small, beady eyes ‒ set more toward the sides of its skull ‒ seemed to glow red. Once the initial shock at the sheer ugliness of her opponent had worn off, Amelia raised her sword and attacked with a battle cry. The Nea-Phi-Lim spun around and raised his weapon just in time to deflect her blow. Without waiting, the tigress swung for another strike, while her opponent swung his own weapon like a club and shouted something at her that she didn’t understand. Once again, the weapons clashed, and fragments of the fragile blade of Amelia’s sword flew off. The force of the attack threw the Nea-Phi-Lim off balance, which she mercilessly exploited, slashing her sword into his side.

With an almost frightening sense of satisfaction, she heard her opponent’s cry of pain as the jagged, glassy blades tore through his entrails. She used her brutal strength to yank her sword from his body and screamed her hatred in his face before placing her foot on his chest and stomping him to the ground.

“For the Khan…!”

She cried, raising her sword for the coup de grâce. Her opponent clutched his torn abdomen and screamed something at her, but Amelia was no longer listening. She brought her sword down on his head with all her might and ended his suffering.

When she looked around afterward, the battle was raging all around her. Anger and rage coursed through her veins, and the hatred that consumed her grief for her fallen father drove her onward. She raised her sword and roared as loud as she could.

“Kill them all, let none escape! For the Khan, for the Greater Good!”

Even as she bellowed her command, she spotted her next victim and set off in pursuit. The Nea-Phi-Lim had taken cover behind a pile of firewood and was just pulling a kind of stick out of the hole in his weapon when he saw her sprinting toward him. He threw the stick aside and screamed something shrill at her, but the young tigress remained undeterred and leaped at him.

He barely managed to raise his weapon and aim it at her when her sword collided with the long shaft of his weapon, knocking it aside. He took a step back and hurled a mixture of screams and growls at her ‒ a sound so full of hatred and fear that Amelia could almost understand it. Even as her opponent regained his balance, she swung her sword upward again to land another blow, but then her weapon exploded in her hand, scattering dangerously sharp shards all around her. The force of the impact was so great that it knocked her off her feet, and she felt as if her wrist were on fire.

In the heat of battle, she hadn’t noticed that another Nea-Phi-Lim had taken aim at her, and it was pure coincidence that she had raised her weapon into the line of fire at that very moment, thereby saving her own life. She dropped to all fours and screamed her pain and anger at her own carelessness into the ground before lifting her head and seeing her actual opponent raising his weapon and aiming it at her. Her eyes narrowed, and she clenched her teeth against the pain in her hand as she pushed herself up from the ground on all fours and leaped forward. Even without a sword, a tiger was a deadly opponent, a fact the Nea-Phi-Lim quickly realized, for Amelia knocked the barrel of his weapon aside and reached with her other hand for his throat. At that moment, the shot fired from his weapon. The bang right next to her ear was so loud and the shockwave from the explosion so strong that she missed her target and staggered past the Nea-Phi-Lim. She still had so much momentum that it took her two lunges to regain her balance, and it was only thanks to her trained reflexes that she was able to dodge the weapon swung at her. Her ears were still ringing and she felt dizzy as she turned to face her opponent. Pure murderous intent sparkled in her eyes, and she dodged another powerful blow before grabbing the creature in front of her and yanking it toward her. Before he could even react, she sank her fangs into his throat and bit down with all her might. Instantly, the coppery taste of blood flooded her mouth, and she used her superior strength to shove her opponent away. She was rewarded with a shower of blood, and the Nea-Phi-Lim staggered a few steps back, desperately clutching the gaping hole in his throat with both hands. He tried to scream, but nothing but red bubbles and a choked gurgle came from his throat; then he collapsed.

Disgusted, Amelia spat the scrap of flesh onto the ground and looked around. All around her, the creatures were dying, and the outcome of this battle was already clear, but the losses on her side were also steadily mounting. They wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever. She still hadn’t given up hope of reinforcements from the herbivores or even the remaining jaguars, but at the same time, she also noticed that the Nea-Phi-Lim’s resistance was slowly but surely weakening. This was a positive turn of events, for it meant they were gaining the upper hand, but it also meant they couldn’t stop now ‒ they had to keep fighting.

She licked her lips and allowed herself a moment’s rest before seeking out her next opponent. Even though she had excellent stamina, she could feel the day taking its toll on her muscles and bones. When this battle was over, she would spend an entire day in the baths and force Emily to massage the cramps out of her muscles. Her break, however, was interrupted by a shrill scream that made her spin around and dodge a clumsy attack. The creature slammed his weapon so hard onto the ground that it broke in half before he turned back to face her. Amelia recognized the many small injuries the Nea-Phi-Lim had already sustained as burns, and splinters of wood were lodged in some of his wounds. He swung the broken shaft of his weapon like a mace and charged at the young tigress once more. As he screamed at her in rage and pain, drops of blood and saliva flew toward her, and she grimaced in disgust. Her opponent was astonishingly fast with his significantly shorter, lighter weapon, and Amelia could no longer simply parry his attacks with her sword. She was still feeling slightly dizzy, which made it harder for her to dodge, but she managed to make him lunge at thin air and sank her long, sharp claws into his arms. She didn’t give him time to react, but instead yanked her hands brutally downward, shredding his forearms. His torn muscles were unable to hold onto his weapon any longer, and it fell from his grasp. Before the club even hit the ground, Amelia pounced on him, ramming her claws into his abdomen and her fangs into his neck, dragging him to the ground.

When she rose again a short while later, her mouth, large parts of her face, her neck, and her décolletage were stained with her opponent’s blood. She was breathing heavily and ran a blood-smeared hand across her face, hoping to wipe away at least some of the blood, and when she looked around again, the battle in the camp was all but over. She spat a mouthful of blood onto the carcass at her feet and raised her hand.

“Legion, to me!”

She shouted loudly, and one by one her warriors came to her. They all looked battered; some were visibly wounded, while with others she wasn’t sure whose blood was caked onto their fur. Their armor was tattered and their weapons broken. Everyone was exhausted, and under normal circumstances she would have ended the attack now to allow her troops the rest they not only deserved but also desperately needed, but these were no normal circumstances, and if she called off the attack now, she would give the Nea-Phi-Lim a chance to recover.

She looked into the eyes of her warriors, saw the pain over their losses ‒ the death of their fathers, brothers, sisters, and friends ‒ and she saw the hatred and rage directed at an enemy who was still too cowardly to face a real battle.

She nodded gently; she felt exactly the same way.

“I know you’re all exhausted, and you’ve fought more than bravely, but we mustn’t let up now. The enemy is still out there; they haven’t been defeated yet. As long as these creatures are still roaming this jungle, there will be no peace ‒ not for us, not for the herbivores, and not for them either! Muster your strength one last time and follow me! We will …”

That was as far as she got. She didn’t even hear the shot, but she felt the force of the impact as the bullet pierced her shoulder and knocked her off her feet. As she hit the ground hard next to her last opponent, she realized her hearing still wasn’t working properly, because everything sounded so muffled.

She wanted to scream ‒ from pain, from rage ‒ but she couldn’t. The pain took her breath away and robbed her of the ability to think clearly. As if through a veil, she saw her warriors pointing in one direction, and their cries sounded strangely muffled to her, as if someone were covering her ears; then the warriors rushed off. She wanted to call out to them to wait for her, to take her with them, but her tongue still wouldn’t obey her. For a brief moment, she heard only the frantic pounding of her heart before another warrior appeared in her field of vision. At first she didn’t recognize him, but he seemed very concerned and was shouting something. Something she didn’t understand. He bent down toward her, and only then did she recognize him as Garra.

By the ancestors, he looked terrible. Once again, he was covered head to toe in small wounds and scratches, and his entire body seemed to be stained with blood. Amelia tried to lift her arm to calm him down, but her limb wouldn’t obey her. Garra screamed again and looked past her at someone or something she couldn’t see. Now she felt warmth spreading beneath her head and back. She was bleeding. She was bleeding heavily. She needed to do something about the bleeding or her condition would become critical, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to do it… and somehow… it didn’t matter anyway.

At least the terrible pain was slowly subsiding a bit, though bright lights began to dance before her eyes. In a strangely unsettling way, it was beautiful, but at the same time, something inside her screamed that she couldn’t let herself be defeated now ‒ she had to hold on, she had to fight, for her father, for the greater good, for … for Emily … but somehow she didn’t feel like it. Hadn’t she already fought enough for today?

Another tiger came into view, and he, too, looked very worried. He began frantically doing all sorts of things. She was being moved. It hurt. Why were they hurting her? She’d been glad that the pain had subsided. Garra was talking to the tiger, but she didn’t understand what he was saying to him ‒ only that he was very, very agitated. Her eyelids were slowly growing heavier, and breathing became harder with every breath. She was so tired, so infinitely tired. Amelia tried to smile and raised her other hand; Garra took it and squeezed it. He looked at her, seemed completely distraught, and talked and talked… She couldn’t understand him ‒ it was all so muffled… the only thing she heard was the pounding in her ears…

The jaguar crouching over her seemed desperate. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t angry with him for taking her sister away from her ‒ the only person she had ever truly loved. She wanted to tell him not to worry, that she wouldn’t stand in their way, but everything was getting so heavy.

And then it went dark…

And then it went quiet…

All she could still perceive now was the distant thudding of her heart, which somehow was growing slower and fainter.

“Damn it! She’s not breathing anymore. Do something!”

Garra shouted, but the paramedic crouching across from him just shook his head.

“She’s losing too much blood… I… I can’t do anything… the wound is too deep…”

Stammered the tiger as he desperately tried to stop the bleeding, but when he finally realized that no more blood was flowing, he felt for her pulse. Sighing, he sank back onto his heels and placed his bloodied hands in his lap. Garra, who was still clutching Amelia’s hand, looked at him first questioningly, then downright pleadingly.

“It’s too late… the queen is dead, long live the queen…”

Whispered the medic, letting his head droop, whereupon Garra’s jaw clenched and he slowly placed the young tigress’s hand on her chest, took a deep breath, and stood up. He was trembling with rage and was barely in control as he looked around, and a wild, primal growl escaped his throat when he saw a Nea-Phi-Lim who did not seem to be quite dead yet.

The jaguar turned away and slowly stomped toward the gasping, writhing hunter, and when he stood over him, there was no compassion, no mercy left in his eyes. His roar was as filled with rage as it was with pain as he finally pounced on the creature and began to tear it to shreds. It was a cruel, slow process as Garra vented all his rage on an opponent who was, in essence, already dead.

The medic watched him and shook his head. He had no immediate intention of stopping the jaguar from giving in to his emotions, but he felt that the energy and rage might have been put to better use against other opponents.

Only after he had completely quenched his thirst for blood did Garra straighten up again. He was a gruesome sight. His fur was completely caked with blood, and the remnants of his armor hung in tatters from his body, while his eyes held a wild, almost manic expression. Blood dripped from his mouth as he turned toward the medic.

“You will make sure that no one desecrates her body.”

It was an order, not a request, underscored by a growl that made the ground vibrate. The tiger nodded slowly and watched as Garra rejoined the frenzied hunt, which had already vanished back into the jungle to drive even the last of the Nea-Phi-Lim out of this green hell.

When night finally fell over the jungle, the Nea-Phi-Lim’s pursuit slowed. Even though the big cats had excellent night vision, it was still no easy task to track an enemy through the night who fired his weapons at irregular intervals, blinding them with the accompanying flashes of light. Nevertheless, the Khan’s warriors kept up the pressure on the creatures and drove them before them.

Their resistance, however, seemed to have been broken, and they retreated in a much more disorganized manner than before. Apparently, the Nea-Phi-Lim had never before faced such concentrated resistance ‒ a force that, despite heavy losses, did not break off the pursuit but, on the contrary, seemed to fight them even more fiercely.

What had previously been a still fairly orderly, staggered retreat had, ever since they had overrun the outpost, turned into a chaotic flight, during which the hunters even shot each other down.

Garra, who had caught up with the army again, was now leading them, and even though he couldn’t really be seen in the darkness among the trees, he could be heard constantly bellowing orders and driving his comrades onward. No one doubted his authority ‒ not only because he was the Khan’s son-in-law, but because he looked like the very embodiment of death itself ‒ though the other warriors in the army didn’t look much better either. For some time now, hardly any of them had been carrying a weapon, and even the remnants of their tattered armor had long since been cast aside. It made them faster and more agile, and required less strength and stamina than running with their sometimes very heavy gear ‒ especially since they had realized that the armor offered little to no protection against the weapons of the Nea-Phi-Lim. However, this also meant that they had to kill their opponents with their bare hands, claws, and teeth.

Consequently, they were all covered head to toe in the blood of their adversaries.

In an attempt to take advantage of the cover provided by the dense trees even at night, the big cats leaped back and forth between the mighty trunks of the primeval forest giants, while keeping an eye out for the suspicious red eyes of the Nea-Phi-Lim, whose return fire had become increasingly sporadic as the night wore on. Garra assumed that it was taking them too long to prepare their weapons for the next attack and that they were having difficulty performing the necessary maneuvers in the darkness.

The reality was much simpler: the hunters were running out of ammunition, and they knew they couldn’t fire their weapons repeatedly without causing catastrophic accidents. The few rounds they could still fire were likely meant to be well-aimed.

All night long, the jungle was filled with the roars of the big cats, the thunderous blasts of the Nea-Phi-Lim weapons, and their shrill screams whenever the Khan’s warriors struck one of them. Unlike before, the big cats were no longer content to simply kill their opponents; instead, they were outright massacring them. Every single one of them was literally torn to pieces, and some were even devoured while the battle was still raging. It was more psychological warfare than necessity, but Garra was only too happy to remind his warriors of everything the Nea-Phi-Lim had already taken from them and spurred them on to exact proper revenge.

As dawn began to break, the jungle around them grew sparser and the trees stood farther apart. This meant less cover, but also better visibility. Garra knew that they were slowly but surely approaching the limit of how far they could be pursuing the creatures. One last sprint, one last tap into their already exhausted reserves, and they would have made it ‒ but he wasn’t really sure if they would succeed.

Night had fallen, bringing with it unimaginable atrocities, and then it had passed. What remained were mangled corpses and warriors who resembled the dead more than the living.

After a full day of racing, murdering, and slaughtering ‒ without pause and without ceasing ‒ the Khan’s warriors were exhausted beyond all reasonable limits. The army ‒ or what was left of it, a little more than five dozen warriors still capable of fighting ‒ had driven the Nea-Phi-Lim, in an unbroken pursuit, to the edge of the jungle. How much further they could drive them, however, Garra did not know. He was fairly certain they could no longer break through another proper defensive line; they simply lacked the warriors. The previous day, they had gone into battle with over 300 big cats, and now only a few of them remained. Not all had fallen, but many had been too injured to continue fighting. They had left them among the fallen; they would ensure that the bodies were not desecrated while the army pressed on.

It was difficult to estimate how many casualties the Nea-Phi-Lim had already suffered, but Garra fervently hoped that their losses were greater, more devastating, and more crushing than their own. The near-total absence of any resistance was a cause for hope.

Since the early hours of the morning, these creatures had practically ceased all resistance and had simply fled. It had bolstered their morale once again and helped him motivate his warriors for the final battle. While their own losses had since dropped to nearly zero, they had been able to hunt down and kill the Nea-Phi-Lim unhindered.

Over time, the terrain around them had changed ‒ at first only slightly and imperceptibly, but then more and more. At first, the terrain simply began to rise slightly ‒ nothing unusual in a jungle, where hills and valleys were everywhere ‒ but this hill just kept going on and on. Later, the vegetation thinned out; the trees spread farther apart, revealing more space on the ground for shrubs and small clearings. Finally, the first large boulders appeared ‒ huge chunks of rock that had once tumbled down from the mountains into the valley and now lay there, providing excellent cover.

For a while now, they had been moving between large boulders, and the trees had almost completely receded into the background; the ground was rocky and growing steeper by the minute. They would soon have to call off the pursuit. They were too far from any support and too exhausted to keep fighting. It was only a matter of time before they faced an ambush, or the Nea-Phi-Lim attacked their flank, and Garra assumed that they were now much closer to more camps of these creatures, and that those camps would come to the aid of their pursuers.

As they ran back and forth between the large boulders and the few trees that still lined their path, always careful to cross the Nea-Phi-Lim’s lines of fire for just a split second, Garra looked around. The few warriors still at his disposal were spread out over a front that was far too wide, but he couldn’t pull them closer together either, or their flank would be left unprotected. Lost in thought, he became careless, but didn’t realize it until one of their enemies’ projectiles ricocheted off a rock just inches from him. The loud bang and shower of small rock fragments quickly snapped him back to reality, however, and he sought cover behind the rock. The first thunderous roar had not yet fully faded when the next bang followed, and one of his warriors fell to the ground screaming.

“Take cover!”

Garra roared, unwilling to lose even one more tiger or jaguar, while the others obeyed his command and sought cover in the shadows of the rocks. More shots rang out, striking the edges of the large boulders and the trees all around.

“Those bastards! We must be very close to their camp.”

Gasped a Tiger who had found a rock right next to Garra and was crouching behind it. The Jaguar could only agree. After being able to advance unhindered for far too long, these little beasts had drawn up another line of defense here, and the rapid-fire rate of the shots suggested there were too many of them to risk a push forward.

“Well, I think we’ve reached the end of our hunt.”

Garra finally replied, as he considered whether to risk peeking out from behind the rock. The tiger behind the other rock nodded grimly; they wouldn’t be able to advance any further, not without losing everything.

The attack came to a complete standstill. Advancing any further was out of the question ‒ at least not as long as the Nea-Phi-Lim were able to maintain their barrage ‒ and Garra assumed they were well aware of that. At the same time, a retreat was just as impossible, since the Nea-Phi-Lim would likely simply turn the tables and attack the big cats from behind. They were pinned down.

For now, they were still cautious, staying in cover and firing from a distance to force them back into cover. They weren’t advancing any further or attempting to flank them yet, but as soon as they realized they could successfully hold the army at bay, the situation would very quickly turn against them. It was only a matter of time before they overran them.

Garra leaned against the rock and looked around. None of the other warriors looked unscathed; they would all carry the scars of the last twenty-four hours with them for the rest of their lives. Some more, some less. The only question was how long that “rest” would last. If they didn’t get help, perhaps only a few more hours…

He rested his head against the cool stone and savored the soothing chill for a moment. Only now did he realize just how exhausted he really was. The multitude of small wounds, the hardships of the past day, the stress, and the loss ‒ all of it had taken its toll on him, and now that he was allowing himself a moment of rest, it was finally making itself felt. His arms and legs were as heavy as lead, and his back would make him pay for what he’d put it through for the next few days. He was tired, infinitely tired, but he knew that if he allowed himself to fall asleep now, he probably wouldn’t wake up again. He looked over at the tiger crouching behind the nearest rock and saw the same exhaustion, the same pain and hopelessness, and honestly doubted that he could rally his warriors one last time.

He cursed quietly to himself and slowly turned around. His gaze wandered down the path they had carved through the jungle to get here. If they retreated now, they would be more or less defenseless against their enemies’ fire, with no cover.

“Trapped…”

He muttered, closing his eyes before slowly sliding down the rock. A moment of silence, just a moment… he needed to think.

Only now did he notice that the ground beneath him seemed to be trembling. At first, he didn’t think much of it; after all, even on a mountain where rock avalanches occasionally occurred, the ground shook from time to time. It had started as a very faint, almost imperceptible tremor, but now it was quickly growing stronger. Garra opened his eyes again and looked around. He didn’t want to survive the battle only to be crushed by a rock slide.

However, he couldn’t see anything that indicated such a rock slide was approaching; instead, he saw the tiger staring back at him with the same confused look.

“What’s going on here?”

He called out, but the warrior shrugged and shook his head, whereupon Garra turned to peer over the edge of the rock behind which he was sitting. He cautiously scanned the area, but there was nothing to be seen on the side facing the Nea-Phi-Lim either.

“What the …?”

He whispered.

The jaguar hadn’t even finished his thought when the warriors of the water buffalo charged through the thicket of the jungle with such force that even the large boulders couldn’t withstand their onslaught. Their roars resembled the fanfares of legend as they stormed past the big cats toward the front lines without even slowing their pace once.

The Nea-Phi-Lim opened fire, but the massive warriors simply ignored the deadly shrapnel and charged onward. When the first buffalo finally fell in a hail of bullets, the rest bellowed their hatred at their enemies and surged like a wave of brutal violence over their first line of defense.

The Nea-Phi-Lim didn’t stand a chance, and while the first were crushed beneath the hooves of the water buffalo, those waiting behind the line faced a fate no better. Their screams were drowned out by the general din as the herbivores unleashed their fury upon them.

Further back, the smaller races followed the first wave, tending to the few creatures that had somehow survived the buffalo’s initial charge. They, too, left none of them alive, though they at least showed them the mercy of killing them quickly.

Once the warriors had passed them by, some of the herbivores lingered and spread out to tend to the wounded big cats. They brought bags of water and bandages. The situation was bizarre ‒ the very herbivores that had hunted the jaguars their entire lives were now coming to their aid ‒ but the warriors of the Kahn gladly accepted the offered help.

Meanwhile, Garra watched as the water buffalo carved a wide swath of destruction through the ranks of the Nea-Phi-Lim. He watched as the creatures were hurled through the air or against the rocks while the stampede continued to roll up the slope, bellowing. Satisfied and exhausted, he finally let himself slide back down the rock and rested his head against the cold stone. He suddenly felt so heavy. Weakly, he raised his arms and examined all the small wounds that had already stopped bleeding, and all the other blood he had accumulated over the past twenty-four hours. Some of it had already dried, slowly turning his normally fine fur into a reddish-brown armor that, over time, would only further restrict his freedom of movement.

“Water… I need water to wash this off… at least a little…”

He muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. He would have to find a stream or a pond as soon as he could bring himself to do it.

Motivation… good point.

He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to motivate himself to do anything in the near future. He let his arms drop and leaned his head back against the rock as his gaze wandered toward the sky. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes… in that moment, he saw her face before him, standing lonely and solitary in the temple.

“Emily…!”

He gasped, snapping his eyes open, but it wasn’t the young tigress standing before him ‒ it was a similarly young okapi, staring at him in alarm. It took a moment for him to realize who was standing there, and his features relaxed. The young herbivore’s eyes darted back and forth in horror as she took in his desolate state. Garra smiled gently; he could only too well imagine how deeply disturbed she was by the carnage they’d wreaked in the jungle ‒ not to mention the sight of him.

“It looks worse than it is…”

He whispered, snapping her out of her trance. She shuddered reflexively and looked at him in utter horror. For a split second, nothing happened; she seemed too frightened, until Garra cautiously raised his hand and pointed to the water bag.

“…may I…?”

He asked, and finally a jolt went through the young okapi; she nodded eagerly as she adjusted the various straps over her shoulder and then handed him one of the water bags.

“O… oh, of course, I’m sorry… it’s just… hmmm…”

She stammered and looked down at the ground, embarrassed, while Garra gratefully accepted the tube, opened it, and took a sip. He didn’t swallow it, however; instead, he rinsed his mouth first and spat the pink liquid out beside him.

“It’s all right… your hesitation is understandable… I can very well imagine that this sight would shock a young girl.”

He said quietly and kindly, before taking another sip ‒ and this time, he drank it greedily. The young herbivore lifted her head again and looked at him with interest.

“How… how many of you have you lost?”

She finally asked cautiously; you could tell how difficult it still was for her to speak to a predator, having been taught her whole life that all carnivores were ruthless beasts. Garra shrugged slightly and glanced around. He couldn’t say for sure, but of the more than 300 big cats they’d gone into battle with, only about fifty were still with him; the rest were either dead or so badly injured that they’d been left behind somewhere along the way. His eyes wandered back to hers, and he sighed.

“When we went into battle yesterday morning, there were nearly 350 of us ‒ tigers and jaguars… look around and tell me how many are still gathered here.”

He urged her, but there was no accusation in his voice, only exhaustion and grief. He could see the realization slowly but surely sink in as she took a rough count of the few big cats she and her fellow kin were currently tending to. She gasped for breath as she searched for the words to express her shock. Of course Garra was a predator; of course he and his kind had been hunting them just a few days ago, and in all likelihood they would do so again after today ‒ but the mere fact that they had given their lives to save not only their own but also hers from these monsters made her reconsider all her prejudices.

Garra continued to smile wearily at her.

“It’s all right… it’s the price we pay so we can live.”

He whispered, nodding gently. Even the herbivores wouldn’t emerge unscathed from this conflict ‒ of that he was certain. She pressed her lips together and knelt down beside him before she began digging all sorts of bandages out of her pouch. He watched her for a moment and then shook his head.

“That… won’t be necessary; most of the wounds have already stopped bleeding. I just need to make sure I wash the blood off before it dries completely.”

He explained, taking another sip from the water bag before finally closing it and handing it back to her.

“What took you so long?”

He asked, closing his heavy eyelids after she’d taken the bag back from him. She carefully opened the container and let the water run over his arm, in an attempt to wash away at least some of the blood, which gave her a little time to think. She was incredibly careful as she did so, not wanting to hurt him unnecessarily. She took her time and carefully formulated her answer before looking at him again.

“Well, to be completely honest, the elders were vehemently opposed to this fight. In their view, we should let the predators bash each other’s heads in and then see what needs to be done next. The younger ones among us then decided to intervene in the fight, against the elders’ orders, because it isn’t fair to let you bear the entire burden alone. After all, these beasts are a common enemy that threatens us all. They wouldn’t have stopped after killing all the carnivores, would they?”

She explained quietly as she finished washing Garras’s first arm. He shook his head gently.

“They’ve already proven that they don’t care who they kill ‒ why would they stop once their most dangerous prey no longer exists? They’d probably have become even more brazen.”

He whispered as she slid over to his other side and continued washing that arm.

“Politics has always been a difficult subject. Our elders don’t always make decisions we can understand. Sometimes they have information we don’t have, sometimes they have experiences we lack, and sometimes they’re simply afraid. I can understand your elders to some extent, but I’m still grateful to you for coming to our aid. We wouldn’t have been able to win this battle anymore; they would have killed us all in the end.”

Garra continued wearily, gently taking her hand as she washed his. With a shy smile, she placed her other hand on top of his.

“Just because we’re natural enemies doesn’t mean we can’t work together.”

The young okapi replied softly, squeezing his hand, whereupon Garra opened his eyes again and looked at her with interest. Her smile widened slightly, and she nodded.

“When the delegation of okapis from the Tiger Realm came a few weeks ago to talk to us about the threat posed by the Nea-Phi-Lim ‒ as you now call them ‒ I had the opportunity to speak with some of them. When I asked them how they managed to coexist with predators, with tigers, they explained to me how their pact with the carnivores worked. I have to admit that I was shocked at first when they told me that they voluntarily send members of their community to their deaths on a regular basis, and that they view this as a completely normal and positive thing. But the more time I had to think about it, the more I realized that they might not be wrong.”

She explained quietly, and the shame she felt at this realization was clearly audible in her voice. Garra nodded slightly, and she looked around once more.

“When I see how much death and suffering we alone have brought upon the jungle today ‒ not to mention the destruction wrought by these… these beasts ‒ I want to give the way of life in the Realm of the Tigers a chance.”

She whispered almost tonelessly; it was almost as if she were embarrassed to admit it, but Garra nodded and squeezed her hand again.

“I think we’d all be in favor of that. I’ve seen how the tigers live and how peaceful it is there, but I don’t think the elders are ready for such a change.”

Garra replied softly, but he smiled slightly as he added:

“Not yet. Wait until the end of the day… and see what happens…”

he whispered, closing his eyes again.

He was so incredibly tired.

…

It was only when the dust slowly settled ‒ after the Water Buffalo Militia, with the help of several other races, had pursued the Nea-Phi-Lim far beyond the borders of their territory ‒ that the full, terrible extent of this brief but extremely fierce skirmish became clear.

Not only had the Khan’s army and, later, the Herbivore Militia cut a swath of destruction through the jungle and killed countless of these creatures, but they, too, had suffered losses. Of the more than 300 tigers and jaguars that had once been there, nearly two-thirds had fallen by the end, and many of the survivors would bear the scars and trauma of this battle for the rest of their lives. None of them had truly emerged unscathed, and even those whose wounds would soon heal would relive this battle over and over again in their nightmares.

On the herbivores’ side, there were fewer casualties overall, but even among them were many warriors who had sustained terrible injuries that would take a long time to heal.

None of them ‒ neither the carnivores nor the herbivores ‒ had ever fought a battle comparable to this one since the Great War, a battle whose outcome had such a profound impact on the future of all their lives, but they had been victorious. They had driven the Nea-Phi-Lim away, and the Nea-Phi-Lim would think long and hard about ever approaching this territory again.

The losses among these creatures were devastating. Hundreds of them had fallen during the two days the battle had raged. Some of them were barely recognizable as such after the big cats had literally torn them apart. The few who had somehow survived the warriors’ onslaught were hunted down by the marauders and then literally slaughtered. Their carcasses were displayed at the border with the northeastern mountains as a deterrent to their fellow creatures.

Meanwhile, Garra had ordered that their weapons and equipment be collected and later transported to the temple so they could be examined and studied. It had been agreed with the herbivores that, while they did not intend to use any of these weapons, it was important to understand how they worked so they could be better prepared in the event of another attack. The tigers would ensure that the weapons were subsequently destroyed.

Once everything had been said and done for the moment, the remaining big cats withdrew to the tigers’ territory for the time being and, with the help of the herbivores, transported the remains of their fallen comrades back to their own territory. The shock was immense when the group finally reached the border and was met by the border patrols of their own herbivores.

Of course, everyone had known that there would be casualties on their side in such a conflict, but no one had expected that only about a third of the forces would return from battle. The herbivores immediately sent out runners to deliver the news to the remaining tigers and the other herbivores and to prepare the camp where the army would first make a stop.

News of their return reached the temple on the evening of the following day and spread like wildfire throughout the temple. Porters and healers were immediately dispatched to assist with everything at the outpost. The dead would remain at the camp for the time being, while the wounded would be brought to the temple. At that point, no one knew who was still alive and who had not returned from the battle.

Garra led his warriors to the outpost and oversaw the transport of the bodies of his fallen comrades, which were gradually laid out in the camp’s central square. He had decided, against every instinct and against his own desire, to remain in the camp and keep vigil over the dead, while most of the other survivors would head to the temple. He was needed here; after all, someone had to coordinate everything. With every additional body brought in by the herbivores, his heart sank further ‒ there were so many. When they were finally finished, Garra thanked the herbivores once more, also on behalf of the tigers, for treating them with such respect; it wasn’t something to be taken for granted, and he knew that.

Only after the bearers from the eastern territory had left did he allow himself to walk down the rows. They had lined up the dead neatly and carefully and covered them with large leaves. Later, they would receive a burial worthy of warriors, with all the accompanying honors, but first the priestesses would have to perform the rituals.

As he walked along the rows and paid his respects to each of the fallen, it nearly broke Garra’s heart to see them all lying there. Now that they were all lying together, he realized once again just how many they had lost. Most of them looked almost peaceful now that their wounds were concealed by the leaves. For some, the bearers had also had to cover their heads.

Toward the end of the second row, he felt a lump forming in his throat, and the closer he got to the end, the more it threatened to take his breath away. He had recognized the Great Khan and Amelia from a distance, and now that he was standing almost right next to them, it nearly turned his stomach. He took the last step and stood at the feet of the tiger who had spared his life, only to give up his own in this battle. Next to him lay Amelia, resting so peacefully beside her father that one might almost think she was merely asleep. Garra dropped to his knees, trembling with rage, but it wasn’t as if there was anything he could have done to prevent what had happened. In the end, it was precisely this helplessness that made him so furious. He wanted to scream; he wanted to blame someone for this ‒ someone he hadn’t killed yet.

Then he thought of Emily again and didn’t know how to explain it to her. She had probably already found out; after all, the Great Khan had been one of the first they’d carried into the camp. The herbivores had carried him across the border on a makeshift stretcher, and everyone had seen him ‒ as well as Amelia. The runners had been sent out shortly afterward. He was supposed to go to the temple, be with her, try to comfort her, or at least offer her support, but he couldn’t leave here now. Someone had to watch over the dead.

He looked at his hands, which were now washed and bandaged. The wounds hurt, but that was nothing compared to the pain he carried in his heart. Slowly, he clenched them into fists until the bandages creaked under the strain, and he felt the unhealed wounds tear open again.

He was a coward… too cowardly to face Emily now… too cowardly to see her face, the grief, the pain, and the accusation… why was he the only one who had survived…

…

In the temple, the High Priestess had first sought out Pecada and then Emily. She had tried to break the news to the two tigresses as gently as possible. The army had returned, but the price of their victory had been devastating. She had first gone to see the concubine and explained the situation to her. She had taken the news of her lover’s death fairly calmly; she had already expected that he would not return alive. On the morning he went into battle, she had said goodbye to him ‒ it had been a final farewell. However, when the High Priestess confessed to her that Amelia, too, had fallen on the field of honor, it hit her hard. Nevertheless, Pecada had remained strong ‒ at least for the moment.

Afterward, the spiritual leader of the tigers had spoken with Emily. She had tried to break the news to her as gently as possible, but when she learned that, in addition to the 200 other big cats, her father ‒ and above all, her sister ‒ had also lost their lives defending their way of life, the young tigress had broken down. The shock had been too much for the heir to this territory. They had taken her to her room, where one of the priestesses would watch over her until she was responsive again. Normally, the High Priestess herself would have taken care of this, but the duties that came with her office were as fulfilling as they were cruel.

She would have to oversee all the rituals associated not only with the deaths of the 200 warriors, but especially those concerning the deaths of the Khan and his daughter. She had neither the time nor the opportunity to mourn the fallen, among whom were some of her closest confidants who had volunteered for battle to do their part in protecting the community. She would perform the rites, wash and bless the dead, and ensure their passage into the afterlife.

Once she had finished the rites at the outpost, she would bring the bodies of the Great Khan, Amelia, and several other warriors ‒ including some of the Jaguars ‒ back to the temple to pay them their final respects there. The others would be given this honor at the camp, for there were simply too many to bury them all at the temple.

With a heavy heart, the High Priestess left the temple that morning, after the news had reached her, to perform the rites at the outpost. It was the first time she had left the temple since assuming the office of High Priestess. She had not anticipated that her very first assignment outside her main place of work would turn out to be such a monumental task ‒ one, moreover, associated with so much pain.

Accompanied by a small group of her priestesses, the High Priestess set out for the outpost. The journey there wasn’t particularly long if they traveled briskly, but the emotional burden she carried made the journey seem longer. It was early afternoon when her delegation reached the camp, and the guard stationed at the entrance finally led them to Garra.

The Jaguar had made himself at home in the captain’s tent, which was closest to the bodies of the Great Khan and Amelia, so that he could still keep an eye on them while seeking shelter from the elements. He didn’t know exactly when the old, gruff tiger had been struck down, but they had found his body in the patch of forest they had crossed that night. This tenacious warrior had sustained no fewer than five gunshot wounds before he finally fell. Garra had taken the pragmatic approach and claimed his tent ‒ not that anyone had stopped him.

When the High Priestess was led to him by the guards and he saw her, he immediately dropped to his knees and bowed his head, as the statutes required of him. The tigress nodded gently, but first thanked the guard and glanced around briefly before gently placing her delicate hand on his head.

“Rise, Garra. Stand up and tell me about the death of our leader, and…”

Her words faltered when she saw Amelia’s body and realized once again how she had to finish the sentence. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath before turning back to Garra.

“…and that of his daughter.”

She added in a choked voice. Even though she was trying her hardest to keep her voice steady and to be strong for her companions ‒ whose sobs behind her were impossible to ignore ‒ the grief and pain within her were clearly audible. Garra rose slowly and straightened up. Only now did the High Priestess see the state the Jaguar was in ‒ his arms, torso, and legs were wrapped in bandages to a considerable extent. Her eyes widened and she gasped for air, while Garra looked at her wearily, then glanced past her at the first two bodies laid out behind her.

“They died honorably in battle. Both fought until their last breath and did not bow to the enemy. The Great Khan fell first; he was struck three times and was likely dead instantly. Amelia took command without hesitation and was an inspiration to us all, but she, too, was killed in battle by those treacherous scoundrels…”

Explained Garra, whose soft voice trembled slightly and who pressed his lips together before taking another deep breath.

“She died in my arms … I couldn’t do anything … I couldn’t stop it.”

He added, struggling with his emotions as he relived in his mind’s eye the moment Amelia breathed her last breath. The High Priestess nodded slowly as she turned once more and looked down the long rows. The jaguar could see how difficult it was for her to maintain her composure as she saw all those familiar faces ‒ her people, friends, family ‒ torn from life and lost forever.

Of course, tigers always died. It was the way of things, the cycle of life, that tigers died. But for over two hundred years now, most of them had died of old age or illness. It was practically unheard of for a tiger to die in battle, and if it did happen, it was a tragic isolated incident ‒ but now nearly half of their community lay before her, wiped out in the course of a single day. That was a lot to process all at once.

On the way to the camp, she had tried to mentally prepare herself for this situation ‒ after all, she basically knew what was coming ‒ but now that she stood before all these bodies, it threatened to overwhelm her. She slowly turned back to Garra, looked into his calm, green eyes, and sighed.

“Go to the temple; you’re needed there more urgently than here. We’ll perform the ancient rituals and then return to the temple with their bodies. Emily needs you now, more than ever.”

She said quietly but firmly, and the jaguar nodded slightly.

“I didn’t want to leave the dead alone until you got here.”

He replied, whereupon the High Priestess smiled wistfully.

“Your intentions are honorable, but you’re needed at the temple now.”

She explained, and when Garra didn’t respond immediately, she added sternly:

“Go!”

and emphasized it with a grim nod.

…

It was late in the evening when Garra arrived at the temple, accompanied by a few warriors who had remained with him at the outpost. They hadn’t spoken much on the way there; they were too exhausted and too consumed by their grief to waste their energy on small talk. It had been a silence that wasn’t unpleasant ‒ a silence that united them in their grief ‒ quite unlike the silence that greeted them at the temple.

If Garra or the tigers accompanying him had thought the temple had been quiet when the guard was almost entirely at the outpost, it now resembled a cemetery. The dark granite, which stood out so starkly against the lush green of the jungle, looked like the facade of an abandoned mausoleum, and the two lone guards standing watch at its main gate did nothing to dispel that impression.

Most of the temple’s remaining inhabitants were busy tending to the wounded, while the rest were preparing for the burial of the Khan and the other warriors. Even though the tigers did not leave their temple constantly, there had always been a lively coming and going at the main gate in the past. Now, however, the guards stood still and motionless on either side of the great gate, surveying the surroundings with little to do.

It was only when they saw Garra and the others approaching that the two stirred, and they bowed deeply before him. Suddenly, the jaguar realized that now that the Great Khan was dead and Amelia was no longer there to succeed him, Emily and he himself would have to take over the leadership of the clan. The weight of this responsibility settled on his shoulders like a stone.

He quickly raised his hand and addressed the guards.

“Please… please don’t bow to me. I’m just a simple warrior.”

He said softly, even though he knew that statement was no longer entirely true. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his troubled mind as he walked toward them, and as the guards slowly straightened up again, he placed a hand on each of their shoulders. He saw the pain in their eyes and nodded gently. He shared their grief and sorrow.

“I feel the same way you do.”

He whispered, squeezing each of their shoulders, whereupon both slowly nodded.

“Where can I find Emily?”

He asked, though he already had a hunch where the young tigress might be, but it was important to him to show the guards that he trusted them. One of the two guards pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head, while the other tiger pointed toward the temple.

“Ever since the news of the Khan’s death reached us and Emily collapsed, she hasn’t left her chambers. The High Priestess has left one of her priestesses with her. You should find her there.”

The guard explained quietly, and Garra thanked him. Together with the other warriors, he entered the temple, whose entrance hall was eerily empty. He took a deep breath and said goodbye for now to the other warriors, who were heading for the barracks, while he made his way to the Khan’s chambers.

The jaguar walked ‒ no, crept ‒ through the empty corridors and halls of the temple. The silence, heavy and oppressive, made the structure seem even more eerie. The faint light that the late-afternoon setting sun still cast through the skylights looked like golden fingers in the rooms and corridors otherwise dominated by shadows. He shunned the light, sticking to the shadows as he made his way into the innermost chambers of the main building; he feared all too much encountering someone and facing the accusation that he had survived while the Khan ‒ or Amelia ‒ had not.

It wasn’t until he approached the large door separating the temple from the Great Khan’s harem that he encountered another big cat. Of all the tigers he could have encountered, of all the souls he could have at least tried to comfort, it was Amelia and Emily’s mother, Pecada, who was just coming out of the door as he walked down the hallway. The moment she saw him, she dropped the bowl she was carrying and threw her arms around his neck. As the wooden bowl clattered loudly against the hard stone floor, the jaguar barely managed to catch Pecada and hold her tightly in his arms. He held her tight as she buried her face in his broad chest. She said nothing, but simply began to sob ‒ and she didn’t need to say anything. In the space of just a few hours, she had lost not only lifelong friends, but also her mate and her eldest daughter. Garra knew that nothing he could say now would do justice to the loss Pecada had suffered; all he could do was be her rock for the moment ‒ a rock in whose shadow she could weather the storm and that would not crumble under the weight.

They stood motionless in the hallway for quite a while, and he simply held her close, giving her support as the world threatened to pull the ground out from under her feet. Gently, almost tenderly, he stroked her back as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Several times during that time she tried to say something, but each time her words got stuck in her throat, choked off by fresh sobs. Garra gently rested his head on hers and murmured softly.

“Shhh… I know… I know…”

He whispered over and over, fighting back his own tears. He wanted to be strong so that she could be weak, at least for this one moment. Pecada cried quietly as she pressed herself closer to him. She didn’t really want to show her grief so openly; she, too, wanted to be strong ‒ for her community and… for her daughter ‒ but when she had seen the jaguar, the only other survivor of her “family,” all her defenses crumbled and it just poured out of her.

It hurt, yet at the same time it felt good; it was liberating to be able to give in to her grief, at least with Garra. It took a while longer before she had calmed down enough that Garra dared to let her go again. He squeezed her close one last time before very slowly releasing her from his embrace. She didn’t resist, but took a very slow step back and swayed slightly. Her breath still came in slightly trembling gasps as she wiped the tears from her cheek. As she stood there before him, she looked him up and down, and when her gaze met his eyes again, she shook her head slightly.

“Oh, by the ancestors, you look terrible.”

She whispered, and the concern in her eyes was clearly visible, but Garra merely nodded in acknowledgment as he smiled wearily.

“Mhm, but you should have seen the other one.”

He replied, though there was no humor in his voice. Again, she shook her head slightly.

“I was so worried… when I got the news… back then…”

She began, but broke off again mid-sentence. Garra pressed his lips together and nodded once more.

“I’m so sorry… I… I was powerless; there was nothing I could do about it.”

He said quietly, and now it was Pecada who nodded. She crossed her arms over her chest ‒ more to steady herself than to distance herself from her son-in-law ‒ and pressed her lips together. Her hands and legs began to tremble as she fought a fierce battle within herself. She wanted to turn away, didn’t want to reveal any more of her weakness to Garra, but she couldn’t muster the strength to actually do it. She laid her ears back, and tears welled up in her eyes again as Garra once more opened his arms invitingly. The tigress hesitated for one long, painful moment before returning to his embrace after all. Once more, he wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tight, and once more she buried herself in his broad chest.

“I know…”

She began, her voice muffled and choked.

“…that’s just how war is. It takes and takes and takes… until there’s nothing left…”

She continued, whispering and sobbing, while Garra felt his chest grow wet.

“…one by one… until they’re all gone…”

She added, resting her head heavily on the jaguar’s broad shoulder as he held her silently and gently stroked her back.

“It’s over now. He won’t take anyone else from you ‒ I promise you that.”

He whispered softly, feeling her burrow even deeper into his chest. Garra tried to stay calm and control his breathing, even though it was incredibly difficult for him, but he couldn’t let himself break down now ‒ not while Pecada was still so unstable. He clenched his teeth and suppressed the pain. He could grieve later, once everything else was taken care of.

It took a while longer for Pecada to calm down again, but then she gently pushed herself away from him and took a deep breath.

“You… you probably want to go to Emily.”

She said through her sniffles, and Garra nodded gently.

“And I ‒ I’m holding you here. How terribly selfish of me…”

She said, embarrassed, and Garra was about to object, but she pointed vehemently at the door.

“Now go on, I’ll be fine. She needs you now more than ever.”

Garra nodded and walked toward the door, but he glanced back at her one last time before opening it, whereupon Pecada gave him a dark look and made a shooing gesture. The jaguar smiled slightly and opened the door.

Behind the door, he was met by a familiar darkness, whose near-total absence of light felt almost liberating. No one would see his tears here… at least not as long as he wasn’t with Emily.

Outside the door, the tigress waited a moment before leaning against the cold, stone wall and slowly sliding down it. Once she was sitting on the floor, she pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Once again, she was overcome by her grief, and she buried her head behind her knees.

It would still take some time before she could fully get over these losses. Some cut deeper than others, but they all hurt, and every single one of them threatened to overwhelm her. No one saw her and no one heard her as she gave in to her grief in the quiet, lonely corridor.

…

Garra stood in the inky darkness of the antechamber leading to the Khan’s actual chambers. The room where he kept his trophies and which, of all the harem’s chambers, was closest to death. He tilted his head back and allowed himself a moment of weakness, letting his tears flow freely before taking several deep breaths to regain some control over his emotions.

Before continuing on his way to Emily’s room, he wiped the traces of his weakness from his cheeks and swallowed hard. His hands were throbbing and his tail was lashing back and forth as he slowly and quietly put one foot in front of the other, creeping along the narrow corridor that led to the harem and to her room. The door to the sprawling quarters of the Khan’s concubines was open, and the glow of a small oil lamp illuminated the passage ahead of him, but not a sound broke the silence through which he moved. When he finally stepped into the small cone of light, he looked into the harem, whose rooms lay silent and empty before him. For a moment, he tried to remember how many of the concubines had volunteered for military service, but in the end he wasn’t sure.

However, since his actual destination lay a little further down the hallway and he really didn’t want to keep Emily waiting any longer, he pulled himself away and turned back toward the corridor. The door to Emily’s room was just a short distance away, and he could see the faint glow of a lamp shimmering from beneath it. He slowly approached the door and pricked up his ears, but indeed, there was still no sound to be heard. He closed his eyes briefly and then reached for the door.

When he finally opened the door cautiously, he found the room dimly lit. A single oil lamp flickered slightly in the draft from the door, and a priestess was crouched on a small stool next to Amelia’s bed, where Emily lay motionless. Garra looked over at her with sympathy, while the priestess at her side looked up at him. It took a tiny moment for her to recognize him, but then her eyes widened ‒ not only because of his condition, but also because he was the only one who had returned. Contrary to what Garra had expected, however, there was no accusation in her gaze as she clearly searched for words. Garra put a finger to his lips and nodded slowly. She seemed to understand and closed her mouth again before nodding as well.

He entered the room quietly, closed the door behind him, and then approached Amelia’s bed. His massive frame cast deep shadows in the dim light of the room as he looked down at Emily, who lay curled up on her sister’s bed. She always did that; it had always given her a sense of security to be able to smell Amelia, even when she wasn’t there. Garra suppressed the urge to take a deep breath or sigh as he tried to calm his inner turmoil. He cursed himself for not returning to the temple immediately, but on the other hand, it had been important to keep vigil over the dead, since no one else had been there to do it.

Finally, he sat down carefully on the edge of Amelia’s bed, which made Emily grumble softly and caused her to curl up tighter. A small smile crept onto his lips when she at least reacted to his presence. He looked at the priestess and nodded quietly to her; she rose silently and moved slowly toward the door. She would leave the two of them alone, for Garra would watch over the young tigress from now on. When she finally left the room, he placed his large, bandaged hand on Emily’s hip and left it there. He waited a little longer after the priestess had closed the door before turning to his beloved.

“I came home as fast as I could. I’m so, so sorry I couldn’t be there to tell you.”

He whispered almost inaudibly as he gently scratched her back. It took an agonizingly long moment before Emily finally reacted. She reached for his hand, took it gently, and pulled it toward her. Garra didn’t resist; instead, he let her pull him onto the bed and lay down behind her. Silently, she pulled his arm tightly against her chest and pressed herself against his body, whereupon he slid his other arm under her head, gently pulled her toward him, and snuggled up to her from behind. He was content just to lie there silently with her on Amelia’s bed. They didn’t need to talk; he just wanted to be there for her, just as he had promised, while he felt her face grow hotter and her breath catch.

“It’s okay, my darling… I’m here… let it out…”

He whispered softly, snuggling closer to her. She held back for just a moment longer, but then she began to sob and clutched his hand tighter before he felt her tears soak through the fur on his arm. It was all right; that was what he wanted. He nodded gently and held her a little tighter. He was there now, and he wouldn’t leave again ‒ not without her, never again without her. Meanwhile, Emily didn’t make a sound; she wept quietly, letting her grief overwhelm her, but he also felt her snuggle closer and closer to him, seeking ‒ and finding ‒ solace. Gently, he pressed his lips to the back of her head and kissed her.

He didn’t know how long they lay there, tightly entwined on Amelia’s bed, but deep down he didn’t really care ‒ the main thing was that they were together.

After a while, she finally calmed down again once the first wave of pain and grief ‒ but also joy and relief ‒ had washed over her, but she still wasn’t ready to talk to the Jaguar; her emotions were still too turbulent.

It didn’t bother him; he was glad she was snuggling up to him and content just to lie behind her and maintain that connection.

It wasn’t until Emily began gently tugging at the bandages wrapped around his forearms that he knew she might be ready to take a small step out of her cocoon. With a small smile, he pulled her close once more and gave her another little kiss on the head, whereupon she wrapped his arms more tightly around her.

“I’m just so overjoyed that at least you’ve come home.”

She whispered, sniffling, as she continued to tug at his bandages.

“Mhm…”

The jaguar murred and nodded before carefully extending his arm.

“Do you want to see it?”

He finally asked softly, and Emily began, wordlessly and hesitantly, to unwrap the bandages from his arm. When she had uncovered his arm and saw the multitude of small wounds, she gasped. None of them were really serious or deep injuries, but the sheer number was terrifying. Her breath came in trembling gasps as she very carefully ran her delicate fingers over the rapidly healing wounds. He could feel her face growing hot again and hear her lips begin to tremble as Emily realized how narrowly he, too, had escaped disaster.

“Shhh… it’s not as bad as it looks… it’s okay, I’m okay…”

Garra whispered, gently pulling her close again, but the young tigress shook her head vigorously.

“No…”

She replied, sobbing.

“Nothing… is… all… right…”

She continued, her voice hoarse and choked with tears, before pulling his arms tighter around her again.

“They… they… are all… gone…”

She stammered between sighs and swallowed hard, while Garra nodded gently.

“…and you… you were… almost… not…”

The words caught in her throat, and finally she broke off completely before curling up tightly into a ball again. Garra couldn’t argue with her. She had lost almost everything ‒ her father, her sister, many friends, and half her community ‒ all in a single day. He himself had surely cheated death half a dozen times during the battle and knew how much it meant to her that at least he had made it back home. He nodded gently and brushed his snout very softly along her neck, giving her the time she needed.

“It’s so quiet in the temple…”

He whispered finally, once she had calmed down a little, and Emily nodded. She missed the almost constant bustle within those ancient walls; it would take years ‒ if they ever managed it at all ‒ to rebuild a population like that again.

She took a long, deep breath and seemed to calm down very slowly as Garra moved his hand slowly from her chest down to her stomach and began to tenderly stroke her flat, muscular abdomen. Satisfied, he noticed how she relaxed a little and surrendered more and more to his caresses instead of her grief, but just at that moment, her stomach growled quite loudly, ruining the intimate moment.

The jaguar had to fight hard not to burst out laughing, as he could sense how embarrassed Emily was that her body had betrayed her so easily. Grinning, he pressed his muzzle to her ear and whispered:

“I know I’m good enough to eat and that you’d love to devour me whole, but I didn’t realize you were in such a hurry…”

He joked, playfully nibbling at her ear. The young tigress actually had to laugh a little at that remark; she took his other hand and playfully nibbled on his finger. He let her have her way while he continued to stroke her stomach. He was glad she hadn’t lost her sense of humor.

“Hmmmm, I think we should get up and eat something. We’re going to need the strength later.”

he remarked, thinking of the funerals still to come and the fact that this final, definitive farewell would likely demand everything from her and Pecada once again.

…

The funeral rites for the 200 fallen warriors ultimately lasted several days, and by the time the High Priestess finally returned to the temple with the bodies of the Great Khan, Amelia, and several other warriors, the pyres for the ceremony had already been prepared.

They had erected a total of ten of these wooden pyres in the temple’s large inner courtyard in accordance with the ancient rites and were now waiting to place the warriors, along with their personal equipment, on the pyres. They would then be cremated once the final rites were completed.

When the time came, Emily and Garra would light the fires, and at the same time, the priestesses who had remained at the outpost would light the fires there, so that all souls could successfully pass into the afterlife.

Garra was waiting at the main gate with Emily and Pecada when the High Priestess arrived with her delegation, carrying the bodies of Emily’s father and sister. He had spoken at length with the two of them over the past few days, trying to explain as gently as possible how the Great Khan and Amelia had died. They had both taken the news with relative composure, but now that the litters bearing the bodies were being carried through the gate, the jaguar was no longer quite so sure whether the two of them would be able to bear the sight.

Pecada stood beside him and remained relatively calm as her beloved's body was carried past her, but when the bearers carried Amelia's lifeless body through the large archway at the temple's entrance, her knees buckled. Emily and Garra were immediately by her side, and mother and daughter held each other in their arms, while the jaguar stood behind them with his large, heavy paws on her shoulders; but he paused and looked at the High Priestess, who gave him a brief nod.

She was glad that Garra was there to look after the two of them for the moment, for she currently had no way of being there for Pecada or Emily. The preparations for the Khan’s final journey were far from complete.

While the atmosphere in the temple during those days was certainly dominated by great sadness, there was also hope. The Khan’s youngest daughter was alive, and her chosen mate, Garra, had also survived the battle. Their community would endure; even though things would be quite difficult for quite some time, the tigers were certain that their clan would eventually return to its former glory.

As part of the preparations for the funeral rites, invitations had been sent out to the herbivores of the territory and even to some of the clans from outside. They would send delegations to attend the ceremony and pay their last respects to the Great Khan and his warriors.

The warriors’ bodies were washed and anointed one last time before being clad in their battle armor and carefully lifted onto the towers, where their weapons were laid beside them.

Pecada had insisted on personally preparing the Great Khan and Amelia for burial. She was assisted in this by Emily and the High Priestess. It was her last chance to say goodbye to both of them once more before the ceremony began and their bodies were offered to the flames. Although Garra hadn’t been happy about being excluded, he had accepted the decision without resistance. He could well understand that his presence wasn’t exactly welcome in this matter.

On the other hand, the jaguar also had his hands full with the final preparations. He had to select the honor guard that would stand on the walls during the ceremony and oversee the preparations for the other eight warriors, including the captain of the guard.

Late in the afternoon, the Great Khan and Amelia were finally hoisted up to their respective towers, and the preparations were completed. Now it was time to wait.

As the sun approached the horizon, the herbivore delegations arrived. The temple was brightly lit; the torches on the outer walls had been lit, and the fire bowls burned brightly, while the Tiger priestesses personally greeted each guest. The atmosphere was formal and respectful as the delegations were slowly led through the halls of the temple, where warriors in ceremonial armor stood sporadically lining their path; but even though the Tigers and Jaguars were carrying their weapons, they gave off no sense of aggression whatsoever. The priestesses finally led the envoys into the large inner courtyard, where they saw the tall burial towers, as well as Garra, Emily, and Pecada.

While Pecada and Emily stood near the tower where the Great Khan lay, Garra stood next to the tower where Amelia’s body had been placed. The two tigers wore long, white robes meant to express their mourning, while the jaguar wore richly decorated ceremonial armor, along with the accompanying weapons. They stood motionless, waiting for the priestesses’ signal that all delegations from outside were present.

It took a short while longer until everyone was finally gathered and had taken their places in the courtyard. At a signal from the priestesses, the large red door at the far end of the courtyard was opened by the tigers guarding it, and the High Priestess stepped out into the courtyard to join them.

The young tigress had blackened her entire fur with a soot-like paste and wore a bone death mask over her face; otherwise, she was clad only in a skimpy loincloth that barely covered the bare essentials. She carried a large bowl and a palm frond, which she held ostentatiously in front of her as she slowly approached Garra.

The great warrior knelt before her, and the high priestess nodded silently before dipping her fingers into the dark red liquid sloshing back and forth in the bowl. Carefully, she traced a rune on the jaguar’s forehead and said:

“Be anointed in the face of death.”

Her voice sounded solemn, and she gestured for him to stand.

“Rise, Garra Ligera, warrior of this clan.”

She added, and Garra rose slowly but elegantly, straightening up once more. Already, he could feel the intoxicating effect of the oils that had been worked into the blood now adorning his forehead. The High Priestess nodded again and then turned to Pecada and Emily, who were standing in front of the next tower, waiting for her. With slow, measured steps, she walked over to them, and they, too, knelt before the young tigress and bowed their heads before her. Once more, she dipped her fingers into the bowl and traced the runes onto the tigresses’ heads.

“Be anointed in the face of death.”

She said in the same solemn tone and motioned for her clanmates to rise.

“Arise, Pecada Dulce, first among the concubines of this clan. Arise, Emily, heir to the throne, leader of the tigers, and guardian of this territory.”

She commanded, and a certain sadness crept into her voice as the two tigresses rose and stood up with infinite elegance. The High Priestess nodded to them once more before turning toward the towers and beginning the funeral chant. She took the palm frond and began to sprinkle the mixture of oils and blood onto the wood at the base of the towers, all the while continuing to recite the ancient, traditional hymn of praise.

She circled the towers a total of three times before she had finished the final verses of the chant and returned to Garra, Pecada, and Emily. She stopped in front of them and knelt down, set the bowl down in front of her, and took the flints she had hidden there earlier.

She blessed the oils in her bowl once more and then lit them with the help of the flints. The jet of flame that shot from the bowl made her otherwise white mask glow orange, and her eyes flashed briefly in the deep hollows of the mask; and even before the flame had burned down again, she set the stones aside once more and raised the bowl above her head.

Behind her, Garra stepped forward and lit three torches in the fire of the bowl before passing one to Pecada and one to Emily, keeping the third for himself.

Emily took the torch and gazed into the dancing flame, whose bright flicker was reflected in her eyes. Silently, she sent her very own prayer to the ancestors, hoping that both her father and her sister would find their way safely to the afterlife.

Meanwhile, the Jaguar stepped forward and raised the torch high above his head. Slowly, he spun around his own axis, letting his gaze sweep over the warriors standing on the walls, who, one by one, dropped to their knees to pay their respects. When he finished his spin and looked back toward the assembled guests, he took a deep breath.

“We are gathered here to pay our final respects to these warriors who gave their lives defending their community. They all fought bravely to defend the innocent, the defenseless, the elderly, and the weak ‒ those who could not defend themselves. They faced the enemy with open eyes and showed no fear, not even when they looked death itself in the eye. We consign their bodies to the flames so that their souls may enter the afterlife of our ancestors. May all burdens be lifted from them, for they gave their lives for the community whose values they selflessly defended.”

The jaguar shouted, while Pecada and Emily silently echoed his words. Once more, he turned to the warriors on the walls.

“Honor to the fallen!”

He shouted loudly, and the tigers and jaguars answered.

“Honor to the fallen!”

Their collective cry thundered across the courtyard, sending a chill down the spine of even the last person present. Then he turned to Pecada and Emily, who were holding their torches before them and clearly fighting back tears. He knew he could no longer delay, for that would only make it harder for the two of them.

And so he stepped forward and lowered his torch into the stacked wood at the foot of the first tower. Pecada and Emily followed his lead, and the oil-soaked wood caught fire immediately. The flames spread in the blink of an eye, and just a few moments later, all ten pyres were blazing fiercely.

With the lighting of the fires, his duties for this ceremony were complete, and he walked over to Emily to hold her in his arms so she wouldn’t break down.

It was the ultimate farewell; after this night, nothing would remain. Emily clung tightly to him, and he was her rock, giving her support and holding her close as they gazed into the flames.

Behind them, the High Priestess slowly lowered the bowl back to the ground and then extinguished the fire within it. Now that she was lit only from behind, her black silhouette and the white mask adorning her face were the only things left to be seen of her. Slowly and elegantly, she finally rose and turned toward the fire as well. Behind the mask, no one could see the tears she, too, was shedding.

The flames shot high into the night sky, their glow reflected by the low-hanging clouds; at the same time, another bright glow appeared in the sky as the priestesses in the camp lit their fires.

Meanwhile, the delegates of the visiting herbivores watched in awe as the bodies of the fallen were consumed by the flames. Most of them were well aware of what this loss meant for the tigers. Only now did the native herbivores truly realize that practically half of their “protectors” had fallen at once ‒ which, while initially meaning a smaller toll, also meant, conversely, that they could provide less protection. The past few weeks, however, had brought home to them just how much they had relied on the tigers’ protection over the last few centuries ‒ and just how dependent they were on it. They would never have been able to rise up against the Nea-Phi-Lim, let alone defeat them.

At the same time, the emissaries of the herbivores, who had traveled from the eastern territories, paid tribute to the fallen, for they had seen and experienced with their own eyes what the carnivores were capable of and what brutal losses they had suffered in their attempt to protect them as well ‒ even though there was no pact between them; quite the opposite, in fact.

The fires burned hot and fast thanks to the oil, and yet they would likely continue burning throughout the night and well into the next day. Nevertheless, after about two hours, the priestesses began politely but firmly asking the herbivores present to leave, since the actual ceremony was now essentially over, and neither Pecada, nor Garra, nor Emily would be granting audiences at that time. Condolences would be received by one of the priestesses at the main entrance, and appointments for a later audience could also be arranged there if needed.

It took a while, but little by little the courtyard emptied until, in the end, only Garra, Pecada, Emily, and the High Priestess standing motionless by the fires, and when even the last herbivore had left the courtyard, the warriors also withdrew from the walls.

Apart from the crackling and popping of the fires, an eerie silence suddenly fell over the spacious courtyard. Only now, with no one left but her closest confidants, did Emily finally allow herself to break down.

Garra knelt down beside her and continued to hold her tight as she wept bitterly. Now they were gone forever, and nothing in the world could ever bring them back. No miracle and no dark magic ‒ they were gone. Pecada came up to her from the other side and embraced her as well, she too shedding bitter tears.

Behind them, the High Priestess stood motionless, staring into the flames. She had hoped that, like so many priestesses before her, she would be able to let the Great Khan pass on in peace, but she had not been granted that privilege. She was the first High Priestess in over 300 years to accompany a Great Khan into the afterlife as a fallen warrior, and she fervently hoped that the ancestors would deem the ceremony worthy enough to allow them all to pass into the afterlife. She looked down at Emily, Pecada, and Garra, who were holding each other and sharing their pain and grief. She could not afford that luxury, for she had to be strong so that she could guide the spirits across. That was her role in this ritual ‒ a role that weighed on her shoulders like a burden. She took a deep breath and shuddered as an icy chill ran down her spine, and she gazed out at the clouds, where the glow of the flames cast strange shadows. Further to the east, she saw the glow of the other fires.

It was going to be a long night. A long night and a long day … and how was she ever going to get this paste out of her fur?

In fact, the pyres burned all night long, but at some point Garra had carried Emily into the temple, and Pecada had followed them. The young tigress had literally cried herself to sleep. He had carried her gently through the deserted corridors of the temple until they reached her room. They were still living in Emily and Amelia’s old room, because she wasn’t yet ready to give up this safe haven of hers and move into the Khan’s larger chambers. He had gently laid her down on her bed and then turned back to Pecada, hugged her, and made sure she was truly all right. Pecada had returned the embrace and then retired to her own quarters. When he was finally alone with her, he had taken off his armor and gently snuggled up to the young tigress, but it had taken quite a while before he finally fell into a dreamless sleep. Snuggled close to Emily, his arms wrapped around her slender figure, the two of them had slept until the late morning hours.

It was the call of nature that finally woke Garra. Slowly, the jaguar opened his eyes and looked around. Emily was still lying in front of him, snuggled up to him, her arms wrapped around his own, and she continued to sleep soundly. The past days and weeks had taken a heavy toll on her strength and energy, and her body was now demanding its due. His body, however, was demanding its own, and so he carefully tried to pull away from Emily, but she clung to him vehemently, unwilling to let him go, at the risk that he might not come back.

He smiled gently and pressed his nose softly against her neck before he began to nibble tenderly on her neck, taking a mischievous delight in the way she tucked her neck in and let out a soft squeak.

“My darling, your sweetheart has to go take care of some little royal tigers…”

He whispered softly, pulling her gently toward him. Emily protested quietly, but finally let him go, only to curl up into a tight ball again afterward. Garra smiled and kissed his partner once more before carefully getting to his feet and leaving the room very quietly.

At this hour, significantly more temple residents were already up and about, trying once again to establish something resembling a normal daily routine. Of course, it would still take some time before anything even close to normalcy would return, but they had to start somewhere. Some of the priestesses he encountered asked about Emily, and fortunately, he was able to reassure them.

After he had done what his body had urged him to do, he made his way to the large inner courtyard, where the pyres had by now burned down considerably but were still far from extinguished. The High Priestess was still standing before them, staring into the flames, but at least her priestesses had brought her a simple robe in the meantime, which she had draped over her shoulders to cover herself at least a little, and she had removed the bony death mask.

Slowly and quietly, Garra approached her, stood beside her, and for a brief moment they gazed together, in silence, into the fire, whose column of smoke rose high into the morning sky. His massive build was so much more imposing than her delicate figure, and yet at that moment she radiated so much more strength than he did.

“Are you still keeping vigil?”

He finally asked softly, but the High Priestess looked at him and merely nodded slightly.

“The spirits need me; I must not rest until the flames have died out.”

She replied just as softly, and Garra nodded respectfully.

“I admire your ability to endure this.”

He admitted openly and honestly, which drew a smile from her.

“It’s part of my responsibility. One of the parts that aren’t so pleasant…”

She began, taking a deep breath before looking up at him after all.

“…how is she?”

She asked, letting her concern color her voice, while Garra pressed his lips together.

“She’s still sleeping. It took a lot out of her, but I think she’ll pull through. The worst is behind her.”

Replied the jaguar, rubbing his arms. Despite the fact that he was standing so close to the fire and it was never really cold in the jungle, he shivered, causing the High Priestess to grin.

“The spirits are still here… can you feel them?”

It was more of a rhetorical question, and Garra refocused on the flames, but he couldn’t help admitting that a shiver was slowly running down his back to the tip of his tail.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess so…”

He stammered, twitching his tail nervously.

“…I should go check on Emily.”

He added, looking around. The High Priestess blinked slowly and then nodded.

“Go, Garra, take care of her. I’ll take care of the dead while you take care of the living.”

He was somehow glad that he could slip away so easily. Toward the end, he’d felt really strange, and he wasn’t sure how much he could trust his senses. If the High Priestess took care of it as she’d said, he would take care of the living ‒ especially one person ‒ while she attended to the deceased.

When Garra finally returned to Emily, she was lying on her side, facing him. She looked over at him through her small eyes; she still looked tired, and her eyes were swollen and red, but she was smiling slightly.

“You were gone a long time…”

She whispered, reaching out her hand toward him. He returned her smile and slowly moved toward her before kneeling beside her bed and offering her his hand. The young tigress took his paw and stroked it tenderly, tracing the pattern of his small spots.

“Mhm… I wanted to check on the High Priestess; she’s still keeping watch by the fires.”

He replied, reaching out his other hand toward her head, while Emily nodded gently.

“As long as the fires are burning, she mustn’t rest, or else the spirits might not find their way to the afterlife.”

She explained in a whisper, guiding his hand to her mouth. Garra nodded slightly, watching what she was doing, and began to scratch her behind the ears with his other hand.

“Mhm… that’s what she said, too. I admire her perseverance.”

He admitted, smiling as she tenderly kissed his hand. He pulled the other hand back a little and stroked her cheek.

“Do you want to get up? There’s a lot to do; we still have a lot to prepare.”

He asked quietly, nodding slightly toward the door, but the young tigress shook her head and slowly curled up into a ball again.

“No …”

She murmured before her head disappeared behind her knees.

“… I don’t want to go out there and face what’s waiting for me.”

She sounded small, defenseless, and weak, and Garra could understand her. He nodded slightly and continued to stroke her. Normally, if everything had gone as originally planned, her father would have remained on the throne for a few more years and would have continued to prepare Amelia for her role as the future ruler. When the time for the transfer of power had come, they could have handled it all together. Amelia would have ascended the throne alongside her chosen one, and Emily could have taken on the role of advisor alongside him. But things had turned out differently, and now the youngest daughter had to take on her father’s and her older sister’s responsibilities ‒ unplanned and unprepared ‒ even before she had finished grieving.

Garra felt sorry for her; he could fully understand her fear, her hesitation, and her resentment, but there was no helping it ‒ they would have to prepare for these ceremonies and rites; they would have to ascend the throne, for the sake of their people, so that life could go on. She was the heir to the throne.

He tilted his head slightly and watched the movement of her ears as his claws continued to comb through her short fur.

“Let me make you an offer… hmmm?”

He whispered softly and encouragingly, waiting until she looked up at him over her knees with wide eyes before continuing.

“… let’s cuddle for just a little while longer; I’ll distract you a bit from the whole thing, and only then will we get up and take care of these tedious but necessary matters. Agreed?”

He asked with a smile, and Emily thought about it for a moment before finally nodding. The jaguar’s smile widened, revealing his fangs, and with a playful growl, he finally stood up. As he then crawled into bed with her, the young tigress giggled and snuggled close to the great warrior.

The sun had long since passed its zenith when the flames of the pyres finally died down. With the flames extinguished, the High Priestess’s vigil was finally over, and the young tigress had sunk to her knees. Several of her priestesses had been at her side and had immediately tended to her.

Meanwhile, preparations for Emily and Garra’s inauguration were in full swing. Much like the funeral of the old Khan, this, too, was an event marked by rituals and ceremonies, for which invitations had once again been sent out to the herbivores. Emily would ascend the throne in two days, and Garra with her.

The next two days promised to be hectic and restless, and only when everything was settled would something resembling normalcy return to the temple.

Emily remained skeptical about all of this; she still believed she wasn’t ready to assume her role as leader of the tigers, but Garra assured her time and time again that she had nothing to worry about.

…

When Emily finally ascended the throne and officially introduced Garra as her chosen partner, the temple’s great hall was filled to capacity. Not only were all the tigers and jaguars who were in the temple at that time present, but delegations from the tribes of all the herbivores in their territory, as well as several envoys from clans outside the territory, had come to witness this event. They were all curious to see how things would unfold from there. There were so many questions.

The tigers were particularly interested in whether Garra‒who, after all, was not a tiger‒would accept the title of Great Khan, a title traditionally held by the leader of the tigers and one that had never before been bestowed upon a member of another species. It would be a drastic break with tradition, which would cause some unease among the rather conservative Tigers, but Garra was able to reassure them, for he, too, would not be the first “non-Tiger” to bear this title. He had decided to use the Jaguars’ traditional title for this very position. From now on, he would be known as the King of Talons.

This made it clear that, for the first time in over 600 years, the tigers would not be ruled by a Great Khan, and that the ruler of this jungle would be a jaguar for the first time ever.

This was a break with tradition in more ways than one.

At the same time, however, Emily and he held fast to other long-established customs. Both openly advocated for the continuation of the pact between them and the herbivores and for the preservation of the established traditions that had taken root over the past 200 years ‒ for the good of the community.

Furthermore, they would do everything in their power to allow their community to grow again and restore the tiger population to its original size. It would take years to make up for the losses, but they would succeed.

Much to their surprise, the herbivores also spoke in favor of the tigers breeding again, at least until the temple’s original population was restored. They were very keen to ensure that the tigers’ fighting strength be fully restored, in case the Nea-Phi-Lim might return after all.

Finally, Garra and Emily advocated that the herbivores and the jaguars from the eastern territories should enter into negotiations to conclude an agreement modeled after the tigers’ and thereby achieve similar prosperity.

Both realms would strengthen their cooperation, thereby enhancing the security and prosperity of all.

It would be a long, rocky road, but one they would all walk together ‒ and one that would ultimately be worthwhile for everyone.

For the Greater Good!

There was absolute silence.

Not the kind of silence you experience when there are no sounds around you, but you can still hear your own heartbeat and the rush of your blood ‒ but rather, absolute, all-consuming silence.

Nevertheless, she awoke, and when she did, she felt nothing. It was strange ‒ shouldn’t she actually be in pain? But why, exactly? She couldn’t remember, but she was sure that something wasn’t right. She waited a moment longer and listened to the silence, to the stillness within herself, but there was nothing.

She opened her eyes, and all she saw was white. Was it foggy? It could very well be ‒ they were near the mountains, weren’t they? It could be foggy in the mountains in the morning, that was for sure. Or was it? She couldn’t remember; suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Then she felt the urge to touch her left shoulder. Why? What was wrong with her shoulder? As she thought hard, she raised her right hand to her shoulder, lost in thought, and touched it. There was nothing there ‒ at least nothing noticeable. It felt a little strange, a faint stinging sensation, almost like an old bruise that had nearly healed. She continued to feel her shoulder as she tried to remember why this was so important, but she just couldn’t figure it out.

Finally, she sat up, and only then did she realize that she was completely naked. Once again, she wondered ‒ shouldn’t she be wearing something? Hadn’t she been wearing clothes? For a moment, her mind lingered on this question until she realized that she didn’t mind being naked at all. Slowly, she lowered her hand and placed it in her lap, then looked around. Everything, no matter where she looked, was white. She couldn’t tell whether she was in a room or out in the open, because everything she saw was white.

The floor ‒ or what she assumed was the floor ‒ the ceiling, the walls, if they even existed at all, were white… but it didn’t look as though they’d been whitewashed; it was more as if there were no walls at all, just white light.

She blinked several times, hoping that something would change, but the scene remained the same. She wasn’t blind ‒ she knew that; she was certain she’d spoken with someone who was blind. That person had never mentioned anything about a white light.

She looked around once more and saw a long row of other tigers. Tigers… yes, tigers… she was a tiger. She remembered that she was a proud tigress. She looked more closely once more. The tigers lying there seemed strangely familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite remember.

She blinked again. The others all seemed to be sleeping, and they, too, were all… naked. Both the men and the women. A bashful smile crept onto her lips as she realized that the thought of being naked in a room with so many other tigers aroused her.

“Oh, you’re already awake.”

An old voice rang out behind her, causing her to flinch in surprise. Until that moment, everything had been silent, and this voice was the first thing her ears had picked up here. The voice sounded strange ‒ familiar, yet strange. Then it hit her: it had no echo at all.

Curiosity, as they say, is the death of the cat, and yet she gave in to it and turned her head to see who was speaking to her. She saw an old tiger whose dull, graying fur stood out in all directions. He stood completely motionless, a few steps away from her, in the middle of the white light that seemed to carry him.

He looked friendly and somehow familiar.

“Who… are you?”

She asked uncertainly, pulling her legs up.

“Where… am I?”

She added before he could even answer. He just smiled gently and approached her slowly.

“I am one of your ancestors, Amelia. I have been entrusted with the task of welcoming all new arrivals here and making sure they find their way across.”

He explained in an old, rough voice that resonated with so much love and affection that she wanted to believe him. It sounded warm, sincere, and full of compassion. She looked at him questioningly and then glanced around once more.

“Amelia…? Across…?”

She repeated softly as she looked at the others. Then it slowly dawned on her as she ran her hand over her left shoulder once more. The pain was now more distinct as her memories slowly returned. She looked at the other tigers once more, and then it hit her like a bolt of lightning.

The old tiger came closer and nodded gently, his arms already outstretched.

“Yes, my child … it’s true.”

He said with a calmness that showed how long and often he had done this before. She looked at him as tears streamed down her cheeks and her lips trembled, and before she could break down, he was already by her side, taking her in his arms. He held her tight and pressed her close.

“It’s all right … it’s … over …”

Concept and Idea by

El Poyo Diabolo

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El Poyo Diabolo

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El Poyo Diabolo

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El Poyo Diabolo

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El Poyo Diabolo