Scars

of the Lost

By: Darkfang Magus

2

Sister's Keeper

Morning three, Straga thinks to himself when slight rays of sunlight warm his fur. To the tiger, the beauty seems out-competed by a seemingly endless supply of bugs which nip at him. Seemingly before another moment has passed, Viki is nagging him to help pack camp. Zombie-like, Straga proceeds but even through the fog he feels like there is something important he should remember. Over the next few hours, that skewed memory seems to erode his mind. The answer lies so close he can nearly taste it. When Viki brings the fact to mind, he curses fate for reminding him.

"First things first, we find out who is commanding this region then we hit him head on",Viki sees Straga stop as if frozen and her brow furrows. "What is it?"

That man at the inn, Price I believe. Didn't he say that the unit here was under his control? He forgoes contemplation to answer Viki, "Nothing, merely a chill." His mind though, it remains awash with this new and terrible secret. Straga knows if he were to tell Viki where the man was, then no hope would remain of her dropping this insane quest. On the other hand, secrets make him nervous. He finds himself in a race against the clock, having to convince Viki to return home before she extracts the information from him.

Unconcerned, Viki heads over to rope her belongings onto Abba's saddle. The slim horse whinnies happily at her presence. "shush", Viki brings a finger to her lip, "you be quiet if ya want anymore special brushings".

The next day when they approach a settlement, Straga finds that time is not on his side.

Viki stops short of the walls. "I guess we aught-ta transform." Straga agrees begrudgingly. He had never been very good at changing forms, which is quite ironic considering his mother Amura had been capable of changing into virtually any species. Viki having inherited this trait changes with little difficulty. Being Catrai, Straga too can change but it takes him several minutes. Of the three basic forms a Catrai can take the feral, Catrai (anthropomorphic), and human, Straga had never been very good at going feral. Perhaps he thought it was due to his bookish nature. Nevertheless, after several minutes with Viki giggling nearby at his struggles, Straga takes on the easier for himself, human form.

Straga is hedging his bets that it will take several days to get information, but in a matter of hours Viki learns of Price. They discover he is heading back to the capitol city of Invictus to discuss matters of the eastern lands with his father the current king. Straga nervously bites at his nails during these revelations, seeing his hopes of heading home shrivel and die. Unwilling to go through another currency debacle, they head out of town instead of renting a room. Several hours down-road they come across a stream which seems to be emptying from a large basin nearby. Glad for a chance to bathe, the siblings make camp. Viki spends the entire time discussing her new plans for entering the capital city. Not one seems even slightly possible.

"stupid", Straga mutters.

"huh"

All at once it explodes from Straga. Fur bristling at his shoulders, he gestures toward Viki, "This, all of it is stupid. We cannot get into the capital".

"Oh, I'm, sure it'll be fine, now that we know who our opponent is".

"That has nothing to do with it. We cannot attack the prince of that city, it is clearly suicide!"

"Straga calm down, I've everything under control".

"No, you are just flailing like a headless chicken and I'm to be left with the mess. This is exactly why I didn't tell you about Price earlier".

Viki freezes, "earlier?"

Damn, can't believe I let that slip "well actually he was at the tavern we had to run from".

"And you d-din't tell me. You lied to me and made us wander for days letting him escape..."

Straga expects her eyes to burn with a fire so severe he will be naught but dust. Instead, something worse occurs. Her deep blue eyes shine wetly in the moonlight before she turns away from him.

"Viki... I-"

"Leave me alone." Viki takes off blindly into the forest, no even whimpering when a stray limb cuts her arm. Gut clenching with guilt, Straga pursues. The chase is brief, as Viki finds the pines come to an end at the lake's edge. She stops, knee-deep in the cold liquid.

Straga pads forward closing the distance between them. His thin hands rest on her shoulders as he speaks, "I never meant to hurt you, in the moment everything seemed a blur."

She trembles in his grasp, vainly choking back tears. There amid the still waters, they stand until Viki falls to her knees overcome. Straga wraps his ams tight around the little tigress, not needing to speak. Her chest shudders one last time before Viki lets it all out, in a soft patter of teardrops. Each shining one leaves ripples across the water's surface and her heart.

When they return to camp, Straga is convinced this new level of stress will prevent him from ever sleeping again; alas it is not so. The lack of rest, food, and peace of mind take its toll. Once his head hits the covers, Straga is sleeping soundly.

When Viki is quite sure Straga is sound asleep, she slinks over to her pack and procures some paper. Thinking carefully, she begins the note. When finished, she pads over to the tiger's sleeping form and kisses his forehead gently as she lies the note on his chest. Viki's expression is one of haunted determination as she walks her horse Abba to the road and steals away into the night.

*

Warm drafts tickle Straga's whiskers, rousing him slowly. Blinking his bleary eyes momentarily, the tiger realizes it is morning. A slight crinkle of paper intrigues Straga, who pulls Viki's letter from his tangled sheets.

"Huh?" Unwrapping it he reads the lines.

'Dear Straga.

I must apologize for dragging you this far. Please return home. By now I will be far away. You know that Abba can outpace your warhorse. If I don't return, please know it isn't your fault. This destiny is mine and I will see it through to the end. Goodbye my brother and godspeed.

Your loving Sister, Victoria Samantha Validus.'

Straga's mouth is agape, "that bloody trollop! I can't go home with naught but this in hand, Father would skin me; alive albeit barely." Straga closes his eyes, breathing deeply for a moment, "It's alright, I just have to catch up with her in Invictus. No problem." Straga clamps his mouth shut suddenly realizing that it is not quite sane to be talking to one's self.

Many days have passed by the time he reaches Invictus. Weary and starving, Straga takes on his human form and then approaches the gate. Everyone entering is being processed by a group of heavily armored men. In the back is one wearing brass trimmed armor, he seems to be in charge.

"Hi", Straga announces lamely when he is near.

"Name and business in the capital." The man mutters , seemingly having ignored Straga's previous statement.

"Umm..."

"Name and business in the capital", the man repeats.

"I am Straga Validus, and I am here to visit my relatives."

The man checks his books. "There are none by the name of Validus residing here, permission denied".

"What, then how shall I get in?"

"You cannot enter without a valid reason. Next."

"Wait, what if it was for my job?"

Them man sighs, "what is your occupation sir?"

Crap, I need to think up something quick, Straga scans his surroundings looking for a hint. Merchant? No, I've nothing to sell. Blacksmith, farmer, potter... His eyes rest on the guard. I'm a mercenary here to join the army.

The guard gives Straga's tall lanky frame a dubious look, "Whatever, sign here to join, Enjoy your stay."

Straga signs the paper and heads into town only to be impeded by armed guards.

"Where do you think your going? All new recruits must report to the barracks." Straga finds himself led away, and begins to wonder if this was such a good idea.

A week of brutal training later and his his sore body seems unwilling to move. Today though was to be an exam of sorts to qualify for rank and guard duty. Straga mutters to himself, "I fear that escape from this hell is naught but a vain hope."

A nearby trainee gives him a curious look, "you sure talk funny, even by city folk's standards."

Not wanting to draw any more undue attention, Straga keeps his trap shut. Later standing in the dirt fighting ring, Straga stands barehanded and looks down at his opponent. Though the man is easily two feet shorter than him, Straga is nonetheless concerned. At the sergeant's call, they rush in. Straga brings his hand down hard intending to stun the man with a blow to the top of his bald head. Unfortunately, Straga learns a lesson about fighting those shorter than himself when his knee flares agonizingly from a sharp kick. Straga tumbles over his face planted in the dust only to receive a second blow to the neck. Paralyzed with pain, he remains curled in a ball as the madman kicks mercilessly to the amusement of their peers. Each blow seems to land on some bell deep withing the tiger's soul, he feels no sadness only anger at being used thus.

His opponent rests for a moment gaining his breath, and in that window of opportunity, Straga leaps. He knows not how his wiry hands become locked around the man's throat, but as his thumbs press down Straga's eyes flash a brief red and arcs of electric energy course through his arms. The man twitches violently before Straga comes to his senses and steps back. The bald fellow topples, dust curling around his spent form, barely breathing. All is silent. Straga Glares, "WHAT!"

Seemingly the only one still able to act, their sergeant draws his sword, "Enough, he's beaten."

"Beaten... Yes, but oh how I wish to do more", Straga's eyes flash red again.

"You've won your little game, now off with you. If you be wantin more training look elsewhere. Get your certificate and get out."

As suddenly as it came, the feeling of divine rage passes, and Straga is left despondent over what he had done to his opponent. Head hung low in shame, he takes his leave. Straga has an early lunch to calm his nerves before heading to the processing office. Once there he is greeted by a kindly middle-aged woman who grants him the rank of private. As the last bit of paperwork, she requests he choose where his formal military training will take place. The list she hands him is quite robust, covering skill sets from sappers to siege engine operators. Straga is brainstorming over the list when a young man walks in.

"You, you're the one from the fight this morning!"

Straga's heart stops as he whips around prepared for another fight. The man he sees is quite the scrawny harmless sort.

"I really think you should join our barracks. It's a special unit for the magically inclined, and after what I saw this morning I think you would fit right in."

Straga thinks back to the electricity that had flowed through his hands, "magic, heh. Viki would get a laugh out of that."

"Who's that, yer girl? Viki I mean." The runt looks on inquisitively.

"No you blasted fool, she is my sister."

"Oh greatest pardons." He turns red.

"If I am to be joining your barracks, could you at least tell me who you are?"

The man straightens up, not becoming appreciably taller as far a Straga can see. "Name's Foble".

"Better", Straga wipes his face. "Pleased to meet you, I am Straga Validus of Fort Shade. From where do you hail?"

Foble produces an awkward smile, "From nowhere, like most these mercenaries I'm a simple wanderer who got himself drafted into this city's militia."

"Verily. As one seems no better than the other, I shall take your advice." While filling out the form, Straga spends some time discussing the particulars of their types of training. By that night, Straga lies on his new cot, for once oblivious to the predicament that Viki had placed herself in.

*

Having successfully reached Invictus, and then blending in under the guise of a courtesan, Viki can move fairly freely through the city. Evidence abounded of the prince's non-promiscuous nature, this she hoped would get her close enough to act. During the second week, luck is in her favor. One of the most skilled courtesans boasts that she has been chosen to accompany Price during his commendation on the morrow. Playing the innocent débutante, Viki asks if she can visit the woman's quarters to get some pointers. She knows that putting this woman out of commission is key if she is to get at prince Price. Feeding the fool's ego is a simple enough task. When darkness falls, Viki seductively enters the harlot's room. Their lovemaking lasts for hours during which Viki admits she learns much. When their bodies are sated, Viki silently casts a spell on her kiss. When complete, Viki has taken the woman's form.

"Now to make sure you don't blab." Viki winds her magic into the bedsheets turning that place of respite into a prison. Wrapped in fabric, the woman looks wide-eyed at Viki.

"Shush, my sweet", her finger falls upon those scarlet lips, "this spell will only last a couple days. Think of it as a vacation."

Viki lies next to her victim and smiles as she plans the next day's events.

*

With his training now well underway, Straga finds time to sign up for guard duty. There is no talk of Viki having been in town so Straga watches vigilantly hoping to catch her.

After accompanying him to a mind-numbingly boring ceremony, Viki smiles seductively as she follows Price to his quarters. The room isn't as lavish as she would expect from a prince, but Viki supposes he wouldn't have brought a whore to his actual bedroom. Nonetheless the accommodations are fit for royalty. Satin adorns the living space in various forms. Transparent reams of it flit about the open window, and deep blue sheets cover the king sized bed. Once Viki has removed his vestments, Price lies at the center of the bed and beckons her. Outwardly Viki smiles cutely as she disrobes, but in her mind the plan is set. She had considered killing him, a feral part of her mind still strove to do so, but her more sadistic side won over with another idea. When he is at his weakest she will cast a spell to destroy his precious humanity. She had learned from Pardus how to transform others into ferals, so it only seemed fitting that such a spell should destroy Price's life. A fate which to him she believes will be worse than simple death.

Viki lets the silk hide her features as she approaches the prince's bed. He lies back grinning haughtily, oblivious to her closely guarded intentions. Gliding onto the bed, Viki lets the silk slide past revealing her toned body. Full breasts heaving, she sits on her knees eying her prey. "You ready, my lord?" Price just nods as she approaches. Viki's hands grasp the mans shins to support herself as she crawls forward. Her fingertips brush Price's groin ever so lightly, before Viki grips the member which stands so proudly. Her tongue velvety soft in this human form slips out between painted lips to flick the tip of Price's shaft. Viki's hands work slowly massaging the base as her tongue tickles the head. Small droplets of pre begin to come forth. Viki's mouth opens wide, and with closed eyes she engulfs his penis down to the base. She coughs weakly before withdrawing and leaving a wet sheen of spittle down his cockflesh. Deciding that her partner is as hard as he is going to get, Viki gives Price's balls a parting squeeze before moving over his body. Now hovering over the prince, Viki guides his pulsing member to her sex as she brings her hips down slowly. Under her breath, the tigress in human form mutters a spell of transformation. A warmth courses through the girl's body when the spells and their bodies become as one. Viki takes a breath deep in her chest while she begins to gyrate.

Price, still oblivious, groans under her ministrations. His lecherous hands grasp her breasts and squeeze painfully hard. Viki restrains her voice of displeasure, not wanting to lose hold of the spell or to give the fool any satisfaction from her discomfort. Their lovemaking if one could even call it that is quick and cold. Viki grits her teeth with the coming of orgasm, a feeling she had felt so many times at the hands of her teacher, but now that would never be again. Eyes sharp with mental anguish, she grinds against Price's pelvis, rushing his release.

Price drives into his whore's resistance wantonly. Quickly, his control is lost as the first jet of semen flows into Viki's body. Eyes rolled back, Price rides the wave of pleasurable release.

Viki gasps, her thighs shaking while Price lies spent below. Barely able to breathe, she summons forth the concentration to finish her spell. Eerie light springs from where their bodies are joined. The light and sound of Viki twisted laughter brings Price to his senses. Seeing that some accursed magic is enveloping him, he puts his foot to Viki stomach and drives her into the air to fall at the bed's foot. Still in a haze, he sits upright and only then notices the change that had taken place. Where his fleshy penis once stood is fur-sheathed thing. The protruding tip has a tapered head lined in feline barbs.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, WITCH!"

Viki rises from the floor, but her appearance is changed to the prince's stricken eyes. Bristling white fur covers Viki's body as she has changed to her Catrai form. Her voice is like daggers, "now you will know what it is like to be hunted like some mongrel. When my spell reaches its completion, you will lose your humanity forever. The fur will spread trust me, and there is no way in hell I will tell you how to be rid of it." Price steps to his clothing and brings up the sword which his life has so many times depended on. Seeing this, Viki backs toward the outer wall.

"UNDO IT, OR I SHALL SKIN THE HIDE FROM YOUR BODY."

Still backing up, Viki giggles. "You deserve all that's coming to you. You're nothing but the leader of a bunch of murderers." With that, she turns and scuttles toward the open window. The tigress' clawed hands grip the frame and she leaps into free air, tail trailing behind. The cool breeze caresses her face, but something much colder seems to press into her back. Then the world is burning pain as the icy steel of Price's rapier sinks in.