FSE

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Fourteen-year-old Aidan Rhiannon walks down a street in a minor suburb of a major American city. It is the latter part of the twentieth century. The sun is setting at his back. He is thinking about running away from home. Not because of any real abuse, but because his parents do not know how to deal with him. He is a kleptomanic and has been caught shoplifting yet again. His parents have resorted to increasingly draconian punishments, which frustrate them almost as much as they frustrate their teenage son. They do not beat him, but among other things he is not permitted to leave the house at all anymore. He is here, walking along the cracked pavement, in defiance of their rules.

He takes one more step away from the setting sun.

A hundred stories begin at this moment.

As Aidan takes that one more step, the world seems to shudder around him. For a moment he thinks it is an earthquake. But it is not the world that shakes, it is he that has been shaken; bounced against the fabric of the universe itself in an indescribable vibration.

Although he does not know it, and cannot see it, he has stepped into a nexus point, a twist of strange energy. In that instant Aidan is thrown across a hundred different realities, the vibration that shudders through him splintering his being, copying him across a hundred worlds.

The shock of it is too great for his senses to handle, and he blacks out. When he awakes it will be a hundred different awakenings, a hundred different versions of him opening eyes on a hundred new worlds. And from there a hundred different stories will play out.

Including one story in which he opens his eyes to find the sun still only just setting on the street leading away from home. Shaken by something he does not understand, that version of Aidan will put aside thoughts of running away and return home, to live out a life that is little different from the lives of most people in that place and time.

But elsewhere his life will be nothing at all like the life of a child of American suburbia. On some of those worlds he will grow to greatness. On some of those worlds he will experience wonderful things. On others he will suffer terrible things. And on some of those worlds he will come to know both joy and horror...

---

Aidan slowly opened his eyes. The last thing he could recall was walking away from his home, and then... had there been an earthquake? He looked around, and was immediately confused. He was not lying on the sidewalk a few blocks from home. He was lying in the grass on a hill that overlooked the sea. The sea that should be well over a thousand miles away! And it was the middle of the day, not nearly sunset. He started to climb to his feet, then stopped in shock as he caught a glimpse of his own hands. Holding them up in front of his eyes he knew he must be insane, or dreaming. They were no longer human hands.

The digits were a little bit shorter and stubbier than they had been. They were also covered in short, sleek white fur, splotched here and there with black. They had pink pads on the palms and claws at the tips. The claws were retractable. He looked down to discover that his entire body was now covered with white and black fur. His clothing also seemed to have changed, since he was now wearing a kind of skirt or kilt of something like linen.

"Chie!" He heard a voice call out and looked up to see someone approaching, giving a cheerful wave. The stranger was also fur-covered, patched with white, black, and orange, and they wore a similar skirt and an open vest, both decorated with bright embroidery. They, or rather she, as the open vest quickly made rather obvious, was a blend of human and feline, with a cat-like face, but an upright stance. A tail poked up from under the skirt she wore. As she drew nearer she said something, but it was a completely unintelligible jumble of sound to Aidan. It sounded friendly, at least

"Uhm. Sorry, I can't understand you," said Aidan.

She frowned and said something in reply. Aidan just shrugged. He had no idea what was going on. Suddenly the cat-girl's ears perked up and she gestured, pointing off along the shoreline to where Aidan could just make out a cluster of small structures.

With another flow of incomprehensible babble she came up to him and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. He didn't feel particularly threatened, just confused, so he went along with her. She dragged him into the middle of a small village. Stone-sided huts with thatched roofs stood scattered about, and a somewhat ramshackle pier stretched out into the water, though no boats were currently tied up at it. The village was filled with bustling, smiling people. Every last one of them was the same sort of humanoid feline as the girl who was still practically dragging Aidan after her.

Most of those she passed called out what sounded like greetings, some with longer strings of sounds that might be questions added. The girl returned their greetings with that same cheerful "Chie!" that she'd first addressed him with, but all her other responses were nearly that short, and she kept pointing onwards.

Having crossed half the village, she finally came to a stop in front of one particular hut. She knocked on the door by kicking it. This was apparently normal, since it was answered almost immediately by yet another cat person. This one was slate gray, a little bit taller than the ones Aidan had seen so far and, in addition to the ubiquitous kilt that males and females alike wore, he was draped in jewelry. He looked splendidly barbaric, though Aidan noticed that he had no piercings, his large, triangular ears were very nearly the only part of him that wasn't somehow hung with beads and charms.

He and the cat girl spoke for a while, and he peered at Aidan with curiosity. Then he waved them both inside. Despite its small size, the hut proved to be airy and spacious, the walls were white-washed and had plenty of large windows. There was no glass in them, they stood open to the warm breeze. There was a bed there, and not much else. The bead-bedecked feline directed Aidan to the bed, and he perched on the edge of it warily.

He was still half convinced this was only a very strange dream, and any moment he would awake. It seemed much more coherent than any dream he'd ever had, but perhaps dreams were only vague and disjointed when remembered later?

While he sat and contemplated that thought, the tall feline was removing some of his jewelry and arranging the pieces on his floor. The smooth-swept dirt had a mat on it, and the mat was woven with an intricate pattern of light and dark strands. The feline deposited stones and strings of beads at varying locations on the pattern. When that was done, the feline began a low chant. The girl watched this with interest, as did Aidan himself. The chant went on for some time, growing louder at times, and at other times falling to nearly a whisper. It ended with a sudden, shouted "Ha!" that made Aidan jump.

In the silence that followed he felt a peculiar sort of tingling. For a few, brief moments it felt like he had pins and needles all over his entire body. Then the sensation faded as swiftly as it had come.

"Did it work?" asked the feline. Aidan blinked at him in sudden surprise. "Uhm... What?"

The feline frowned. "Hmmm. Perhaps not. Tell me, stranger, can you understand me? Nod if you can."

Aidan nodded. The feline broke into a broad grin. "Aha! It did work then. I am not speaking your tongue am I? Yet you understand."

Aidan blinked again. It was true. When he thought about it he was not hearing English words at all. But he understood them all the same.

"Try replying in my language. It should be easy enough if you set your mind to it. Say hello. Tell me you name, that is simple enough. I am Song Chanter."

"Hello. I, uhm," Aidan fumbled, it felt very strange, but Song Chanter was right that he could find the foreign words if he thought about it. "My name is Aidan Rhiannon."

"Well met," said Song Chanter with a smile.

The girl giggled. "Did you say rihalon?"

Aidan found himself blushing. The word she had said meant "virgin." But it was admittedly similar to his own name. "No," he said. "Rhiannon."

Before he could continue there came a scuffing at the door. Song Chanter went to answer it. On the other side was another male feline, this one a gray tabby. His kilt was the most elaborately patterned one Aidan had seen thus far. Was that a sign of some status? The newcomer didn't wait for greetings, he blurted out hurriedly, "A human ship has been sighted by the fishers."

"Damn them," muttered Song Chanter. "Headed here?"

"They only saw the sail on the horizon and came to warn us. Possibly not, the trade winds have already carried a few past us to the north this year. But still..."

"Aye. Best to be careful." He turned to Aidan, who had followed their exchange with wide eyes. "Do you know about the slave raids, stranger?"

Aidan shook his head, if anything even more confused and lost than he'd been only moments before.

"Well, the best thing to do if one of the human ships lands here is to hide. Fighting does little good, and not enough of us can fit on the fishing boats to flee, though they'll take off as many of the children as they can. Since you don't know your way around, New Flower can go with you." He turned to the girl. "Unless you're otherwise occupied?"

She smiled. "Oh no. I'd be happy to escort the rihalon to a good hiding place. Then maybe I can do something about his name..."

Aidan blushed more. He wondered if it showed under his fur. His ears certainly felt flushed, so it was probably pretty obvious. It was admittedly true that he was a virgin, but he didn't know about doing anything about it! Especially not with a cat girl he'd just met, even if this was a dream.

She once again seized his hand and dragged him off enthusiastically. She didn't seem to be particularly worried, despite the mention of slave raids, which sounded terrifying. She towed him out of town again, into the forest beyond, until she reached a grassy spot under several trees. She crouched down behind a bush there and peered back at the village.

"What's going on?" asked Aidan, crouching beside her.

"Probably nothing. Mostly the ships sail on by. One hasn't landed here in my lifetime. But when they do land, the humans will catch every felitan they can find and carry them off in their ships to be their slaves. They say that humans are giants, and entirely furless, and very cruel to their slaves."

"Oh." He thought about his history class, and the things that humans had done to other humans. That was probably true.

"Don't worry though. This will be just another false alarm." She turned and smiled at him, then leaned in, and next thing he knew she was kissing him.

He let out a startled yelp and pulled back from her. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" At her blank look of incomprehension he realized he'd reverted to English. He tried again in her language. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Just kissing," she said. "You act like you've never been kissed before. Are you actually a virgin then?"

Aidan blushed, his ears heating again. "What if I am?"

"Really? But you're at least as old as me, aren't you? I'm thirteen!"

"I'm fourteen," he said, though he did have to wonder if years were the same here, and if these cat people aged like humans. But she looked about thirteen, as best he could tell, given that she was a cat. She was certainly no taller than he, and her chest, which he was trying not to stare at, wasn't all that developed.

"That's so weird! I've never heard of somebody that old who was still a virgin."

Aidan wondered if he could die of embarrassment. He was not used to discussing this subject, especially not with a young female, even if she wasn't his species.

"What's it like where you're from then? You must be from a long way away, to not even speak the same language. Everyone on the islands speaks felitan. Where are you from? Do you not have human slavers there?"

Aidan opened his mouth, then shut it again. Saying that he was a human was probably a really bad idea. "Uhm. I, uh..." The best lie is a simple one... "I don't really remember."

"You don't?"

"No. I just woke up here, but I don't know how, or what happened before that."

"Did you hit your head? Wind Catcher fell and hit his head last year, and he forgot a lot of things after that."

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Song Chanter can look at your head when we get back then."

They waited for what seemed like forever. New Flower did not venture to try and kiss Aidan again, thankfully. At last a distant call apparently signaled that all was safe, and they returned to Song Chanter's hut. They found him there, along with the gray tabby who had brought warning.

"Ah, and here is the stranger, I see," he said. "I'm sorry you had such a poor introduction to our home. I promise that it is usually quite peaceful here. My name is Master Weaver."

"I'm Aidan," said Aidan, deciding the skip his surname, lest New Flower start up on the subject of virgins again.

"Aidan? What does it mean?"

Aidan blinked. If it meant anything other than "Aidan" he didn't know what. He'd never thought about it as meaning anything before. "Uh... I don't know."

Master Weaver gave him a puzzled look. "You don't know?"

Aidan shook his head. "No. I, well... I don't know much of anything. I can't remember anything."

"I think he hit his head, like Wind Catcher," said New Flower.

"Hmm. Let me see." Song Chanter came close and started running his fingers over Aidan's head. After a while he said, "I feel no sign of injury. But such injuries can sometimes be invisible."

"Is there a cure for it?" asked New Flower.

The older feline shrugged. "Not that I know of. Time may return his memories."

"Then he will need to stay here until he can remember," said Master Weaver. "I still have no apprentice, so I have room for a guest. If you would care to stay with me, that is?" he added, turning to Aidan.

Aidan blinked, a bit surprised to be asked. He was still just a kid. Why should the adults ask his opinion? "Of course!"

The sun was beginning to set, and Aidan felt exhausted. If this was all real, and it seemed more and more as if it was, he had been awake for a very long time. So he quite willingly followed Master Weaver towards a promised bed.

Master Weaver's hut proved to be one of the largest in the village. Inside was a huge, open space with broad windows and whitewashed walls much like Song Chanter's. But there was no bed here. Instead there were several complicated wooden contraptions that Aidan eventually recognized as looms. Apparently Master Weaver's name was entirely literal. A ladder led to a loft, and there Aidan found the beds. He fell gratefully into the one that Master Weaver indicated was his. It felt a bit strange, the mattress seemed to be stuffed with some kind of plant and it was strung with rope rather than having a box spring the way he was accustomed to. But he was tired enough to not mind.

Before he could drift off, however, Master Weaver knelt next to the bed. Aidan looked at him, puzzled. "My home is open to you while you're here, Aidan," he said. "And also my bed." He smiled. "Should you be so inclined."

Aidan blushed again. Was he being offered what he thought he was? Surely not! "Uhm. Thank you, but I'm tired," he said, which should surely be a safe response no matter what he was turning down.

That seemed to satisfy Master Weaver, who nodded acceptance and went to his own bed.

As Aidan's eyes slid closed and sleep claimed him, his last thought was to wonder if these people were obsessed with sex. Somehow that seemed even stranger than the fact that they, and he, looked like overgrown housecats. He didn't know if he would ever grow used to any of this. But then this would all probably prove to be a dream, and he would wake once more in his bed at home, still grounded. If not, then he had succeeded in running away from home more completely than he could have thought possible.