Pestilence.
“Lux?” She looks back over her shoulder for her wayward sister but the snowy street behind her is empty again. “Stop fooling around and come out!” she calls angrily. “It’s dusk already, we haven’t found anything to eat today and I’m too damn hungry to play games!”
Like so many times before, there’s no answer. Nox stands there in the middle of the road, glaring angrily at the high walls penning her in and grits her teeth in frustration. Her stomach is growling like a rabid thing and her wings are cramping from being tucked uncomfortably tight against her back. There’s no space for her to stretch and relax her aching muscles in the little alleyway. It’s awkwardly narrow and she risks damaging her flight feathers on the rough bricks with every shift of her shoulders, but it is the fastest way back to their shelter. In this town, staying out on the streets at night is almost the same thing as actively looking for someone to either rob or kill you.
“Lux, come out already!” The fur along the nape of her neck bristles with impatient anger and she tells herself that her sister will come bouncing out of the shadows any moment now. “It’s not funny any more, I’m warning you.”
Still there’s no reply and Nox begins to feel the first prickles of fear crawl through her fur. Whiteroot is a dangerous place to live and doubly so for a starving child who barely knows how to find her own food. Her wings half-open on instinct before they’re brought up short by the constricting walls on either side. There’s no place to turn, let alone fly here, so she doubles over upon herself, squirming around in the tiny space she has, and charges back the way she came.
As soon as she reaches open ground, the swirling snow blows a veil of white across her vision. The alley had kept the worst of the storm off her but in the open, the blizzard howls around her. Shards of ice sleet against her she angrily blinks it from her eyes as she runs. She’s cold and tired and her paws are numb, but she forces herself to keep moving and retrace her steps.
“Lux? Lux, where are you?” It’s full dark now and her sister is nowhere to be seen. Dark thoughts cloud her mind and she bares her teeth at the gloom as if to challenge the night. They’ve survived for almost half a month on their own now and she’s not going to let anything happen to her sister while she’s still alive to do something about it.
All of a sudden, she slips on hidden ice and she crashes to the ground, skidding across the road and into a deep snowdrift. It’s large enough to cushion her fall, but it still hurts as she slowly climbs back to her feet and thrashes her way out of the freezing snow. One of her forepaws is throbbing with a dull, insistent ache and as she limps as she walks on, extending her ragged wings for balance.
Nox doesn’t dare call out any more. She’s injured and slow in a town full of predators, barely able to run and too weak to fly for long.
The dim memories of her mother and a warm home swim to the surface of her thoughts as she tests a swollen paw on the ground and she bites back a sob of frustration. Everything had changed so quickly and now it seemed as if her past life had only been but a dream. She barely remembers any details of life in a home and with a family and what she does remember fades by the day.
Now, it’s nothing more than the need to find food, to keep warm and to stay out of danger as best as she can. Nox limps on, shivering through the shadows and growing more desperate by the minute. Lux is almost two years younger than her and still afraid of the dark sometimes. It’s not difficult to imagine all the bad possibilities that might have happened.
The night has given way to grey daybreak when Nox limps back to their tiny shelter. Her steps falter and she’s staggering with fatigue after having scoured the streets for the entire night. There’s no sign of her sister but she’s not ready to give up hope yet. She’ll keep searching until she finds something,anything. For now however, she needs to get home and sleep before she collapses into unconsciousness on the streets.
It’s not until she finally pokes her nose into their squalid little cellar that she registers the figure inside.
“Lux?”
“Nox?”
Nox is too tired to do anything but sit back on her haunches in surprise. Shock is dulled under a layer of exhaustion and leaden numbness until she can only blink and stare at her sister. “Is that you? What are you doing here? When did you get here? How did you get back?”
“Apocalypse brought me back!” Her sister flutters her wings in an absurdly cheerful manner and nods to outside their shelter. “I’m called Famine now,” she adds almost as an afterthought. “Apocalypse gave me some food.” Lux freezes as Nox’s stomach grumbles at the thought and her tail droops ever so slightly. “I meant to save some for you,” she mumbles, “but I was too hungry …”
Nox shakes her head, still trying to process this strange turn of events. Slowly, the ball of crushing tension in her chest drains into a massive wave of relief and she sinks down onto the cold stone floor. Everything’s fine now. They’re both safe, Lux has eaten, it’s morning now and the sun’s beginning to warm the winter dawn.
There’s something that’s wrong here, something that she can’t quite pick out, but for now, just seeing Lux safe and full-fed is good enough. She’s too tired to think straight anyway. Nox finally allows herself to relax and she draws her sister close as she sprawls out on the floor. “Famine? Apocalypse? Strange names,” she mutters sleepily. “Whatever you’re calling yourself now, don’t run off again, do you hear? You’re going to scare me to death one day.”
However her sister responds, it’s lost in the fog of slumber. Nox falls asleep as soon as her head comes to rest on her paws.
It is late afternoon and the air has finally lost its chill when she wakes again. Nox stretches luxuriously and shakes out her wings as best as she can across the full length of their little shelter. They call it a cellar, but in reality, it’s just an abandoned basement, overhung by a low crumbled wall. The space is barely large enough for two bodies and a meagre pile of belongings, but the cramped area traps heat during the night well enough. Now, deliciously warm winter sunlight pools at the entrance to their den and she can hear Lux playing outside, chattering happily to someone as she scuffles-
Nox lurches to her feet and leaps towards the doorway in a single motion, fur bristling wildly and teeth already bared. There shouldn’t be anyone here! Their shelter is hidden and almost impossible to find for good reason. In her hurry, she tears down the tattered cloth that acts as their ‘door’ and it tangles her feet as she bounds up the short flight of stairs. At the top, Nox kicks it free and snaps her wings open as she bursts into the open, every fibre of her body readied for a fight.
“Get away from her!” she snarls without looking. “I’m only warning you once! Stay back!”
The golden lion barely spares her a glance before turning back to her sister and batting the toy again. It’s a condescending glance, full of disdain and superiority, enough to make her halt in her tracks. Lux laughs happily and chases after the leather bundle, rounding the corner before Nox can even think to follow. She takes a half-step forward and the lion rises to his feet to block her way, shaking his head in warning. He’s a giant creature, made even bigger by the massive spread of his own wings and Nox retreats back to the entrance of their shelter as he comes closer. The tips of her arched wings barely reach his chin and all of a sudden, she realises just how vulnerable she is.
“You are the sister that my Famine speaks of?” His voice is deep and it exudes overwhelming air of command. “Strange to see a ‘family’ of winged leopards in this hovel town,” he muses.
“’My Famine’?” Nox’s voice sounds like a squeak in comparison. “Her name is-“
“Not my concern.” The lion dips his head forward to give her a measuring look and Nox flinches back before she can stop herself. “I am named Apocalypse,”he rumbles, “and I am seeking my warriors to carry out my will.”
Nox’s entire body sags with disbelief. This is who brought Lux back? This is who her sister decided to trust? This … lunatic who names himself after the end of the world? Her wings fall against her back and her tail droops to the ground in defeat.
It’s the beginning of the end for them. Whatever this Apocalypse wants, he means to take her sister away from her and she’s powerless to do anything about it. She hasn’t eaten in at least a day and a half and she’s so damn tired. Fighting him means her death and at the very least she can do is spare Lux from seeing that. Better that she leave alone and happy than alone and without kin in the world.
“What do you want with her?” Nox asks softly.
The lion blinks slowly. “It is rare to find winged cats of any kind these days. We grow fewer in number by the year. Where once I remembered our mastery, I see now only our dwindling path to extinction.” He flicks his tail as if to dismiss even the thought of the possibility. “We are masters of the hunt, you and I, and I would like to see at least some of us with skills undiminished. Is that so much to ask?”
The flash of hope that swells in her chest is frightening in its intensity. “’You and I’?” Her traitorous tongue let the question slip free and Nox immediately clenches her jaws together in trepidation. She can suddenly see a way to stay with Lux, to keep her sister close.
Apocalypse tilts his head in an approximation of a nod and Nox suddenly finds it hard to breathe through the lump in her throat. “You want us? Both of us?”she questions again.
Rapid visions of leaving Whiteroot flash through her mind. Anywhere is better than living on the streets, starving and cold and fearful. It’s almost too much to wish for and she’s suddenly afraid to even think about it, in case it’s all just a wild dream.
The golden lion makes a coughing purr as he exhales. “Evidently. You are also a cat with wings, are you not?” He turns and begins walking away, leaving Nox to gape after him. “My Famine will be pleased that you are coming. War and Death will have a surprise this night I believe.”
Famine.
The two guards at the entrance die easily. They’re down before they have time to sound the alarm and she’s running past, sprinting through the blackness like a glowing star, careening on towards her target. It’s so easy, so damned easy that she has to fight down the urge to throw back her head and laugh into the night.
This is what she’s been waiting for. This is the final test after the years of training she endured and eventually excelled in. The endless practice with the blade and the bow, the sparring with her siblings, the broken bones and the hot flashes of pain.
Her earliest memories are of the four of them, avidly watching their mentor demonstrate something clever with a glittering knife. They’re all close as siblings now and none of them can imagine what it’s like without each other. Her oldest sister might wake up calling strange names occasionally, but even she can’t remember anything clear from before Apocalypse took them under his wing.
Famine feels the smile slipping across her muzzle as she runs onwards into the night. This is the night of their first mission, the first and final night, hernight. The target lies sleeping in the fortress tower to her left and as she bounds into the long hallway to which the tower connects, she can almost feel the excitement coursing through her veins.
It takes her another half hour to eliminate a dozen more sentries and make her way into the target’s room. The jackal is awake when she enters and his frightened shout almost makes her smile in sheer exuberance. Her training asserts itself but she still struggles to maintain a pitilessly professional demeanour until she’s sure that her target is dead.
Only then does Famine allow the triumphant grin to split her jaws wide in silent joy. Her part of the operation has been executed flawlessly. Out of the four of them, she can almost bet that she’s the first to complete her task. As Famine glances at the timepiece strapped to her foreleg, her smirk widens even further. She’s a full two minutes ahead of schedule, uninjured and unseen. Apocalypse is going to be proud!
She’ still laughing noiselessly when the alarm blares violently into the silence. Screams erupt from the fortress and the night blazes into fire and light. Famine leaps to the window and cautiously looks outside. She’s high enough to be hidden from the ground but there are other creatures with wings here and her white coat is far too visible against the darkness. It’s a risk, but she needs to know what went wrong.
The courtyard below the jackal’s tower is awash in flame. Everywhere she can see, the fire rages unchecked, burning strongly even on solid stone. The soldiers cluster in the centre of the open space, metal gleaming in reflected firelight. The alarm howls on and on and more guards rush into the courtyard until the ground looks like a seething mass of bodies, ringing a clear space in the centre of the square.
Famine squints downwards, cursing her the distance and her poor vision. There’s a white shape struggling in a net, lashing out at anyone that closes to within striking distance. At first, Famine cannot understand what she is seeing. Another white leopard in a net? Death?
She scrambles to the windowsill and heaves herself through the narrow opening. The mounting sense of unease lurking in her throat begins to expand into the first stirrings of fear. How did Death manage to get caught in a net? Why doesn’t she just rip it off and fly away?
The window is too small to launch from so Famine throws herself out into the night and snaps her wings open as soon as she’s clear. The heat from the fires create a strong thermal that blows her upwards but not before she’s fallen far enough to see why Death remains on the ground.
Her younger sister cannot fly free. One of her wings has been torn off at the base.
Famine soars high on the updraft, beating her wings as hard as she can to power herself further into the sky. She has to help Death. Her sister has no chance of escape, not crippled as she is now and leaving her there is to leave her to an unimaginably cruel fate. She grits her teeth until she tastes blood in her mouth. If she cannot rescue Death, she will have to find a way to kill her quickly. The sentence for attempted regicide goes far beyond simple torture and execution.
When the thermal finally dwindles and dies off, the courtyard looks like a pinprick of light in an ominously dark sea. Famine twists around and angles her wings to dive. Within a few seconds, the wind whistles past her ears and streams through her fur like icewater. The courtyard grows closer and closer and suddenly something smashes into her from the side and knocks her off course.
“What are you doing?” Pestilence screeches into her ear. “Famine?” Her sister is wild eyed and trembling, dark fur hidden by the night but shaking so hard that Famine can feel the disturbance in her wingbeats. “You can’t go! I thought it was you! I thought I had lost you! I can’t lose you as well!” she wails.
She can see why Pestilence thought it was her down there. Both she and Death are white leopards, identical at a distance and only distinguishable up close by Death’s lack of spots. Famine holds onto her sister as best as she can and they spiral downwards slowly together.
“I have to go,” she states firmly. “We can’t leave her down there.”
“We can’t do anything!” Pestilence thrashes her wings in what Famine finally realises is panic. “There are only three of us, I don’t even know where War is and look how many there are down there! It’s suicide!”
Famine snarls angrily and brushes her sister off to hover alone. Pestilence might be too scared to even try, but she has confidence in herself. None of the guards she killed managed to even scratch her. Her target barely put up any semblance of a fight. Nothing can touch her tonight! Tonight, she is invincible!
“Find War,” she commands. If her sister won’t act, then she will. “Tell him to meet us at the rendezvous point and-“
“No.” The deep voice cuts through her words and Famine falls silent in the face of his sheer golden presence. How Apocalypse managed to fly to them unseen is absolutely beyond her. “The four targets are dead, the mission is complete. You three will all come with me.”
Only then does Famine see War. The black tiger is camouflaged in the night and only his pale eyes can be seen, wide with shock and fear. Pestilence immediately wings her way to him and the pair of the circle each other slowly, either unable or unwilling to show any affection before their mentor’s stern eyes. The four of them might be like siblings in Famine’s eyes, but it over time, it grew into something different for Pestilence and War.
“We’re going to leave her there?” Famine’s voice is incredulous. She flattens her ears to her head and bares her teeth at her mentor. “Leave her to the mercy of the king’s dungeons?”
Apocalypse sounds almost reasonable as he frowns and sighs out his reply. “She is crippled. How will Death fly with us when she has only one wing?” The giant lion shakes his head and his mane flares out like a golden halo. “Is it not better to remember her as she was rather than see her as she is?”
His words are met with a stunned silence and Famine tilts her head in utter shock. It’s her sister down there and her mentor is just going to blindly ignore her plight?
“She’s one of us!” War’s voice rings out strongly and Famine is shocked out of her numb disbelief. She looks over to where her brother is angrily gesturing to the courtyard below. “Is that what’s going to happen to us if we’re injured?” The tiger slashes a paw through the air. “You’re going to leave us all behind?”
Apocalypse ignores his outburst and turns away to the south. “None of you are hurt and you will all continue to improve. This is your first mission and casualties are to be expected.” The sudden callousness of his tone is like slap to the face. “We leave now.”
A chilling shriek rips through the air and Famine falls in the air as her wingbeats falter. Apocalypse is no more than a golden smudge in the night and she looks at her siblings indecisively, unwilling to follow him without some sort of sign.
Long heartbeats pass until finally Pestilence dips her head and flies silently after their mentor. War hisses underneath his breath and wings after her, leaving Famine hovering alone. It is not long before she too leaves, driven onwards by Death’s unceasing screams behind.
Five days later, Famine is still limping from their second mission. Her foreleg spikes with pain on every step and in two hours’ time, she’s expected to begin yet another assassination. Beside her, Pestilence gingerly daubs the festering wound on her shoulder with a medicinal compound and winces with the motion. It’s an injury that requires time and rest to heal, neither of which are available to her.
They’ve completed three missions in six days and all of them are exhausted. Heedless of the injuries or their fatigue, their mentor sends them out again and again, either oblivious to their growing unease or simply choosing to turn a blind eye. Apocalypse has driven the three of them to their limits and they’re about to break from the strain.
Famine pricks her ears at approaching footsteps just before War paces into their training room. Pestilence scrambles to her feet with a glad cry but the black tiger flicks his tail in a signal for silence and she freezes in midstep. The training chamber is the most isolated room in the entire complex, set aside from the main living quarters for ease of concentration and focus. Nevertheless, War still stands silently at the entrance for a nearly ten minutes before he relaxes his vigil.
Pestilence crosses the room in a few bounds, injury forgotten, and nuzzles into his shoulder happily. Famine follows her sister more slowly and she gives the pair a few seconds to themselves before she questions War. “Well, what did he say?”
Her brother mantles his wings around himself angrily. “Nothing.” War lashes his tail angrily and spits out his next words. “He won’t tell me anything and when I ask, he changes the topic or just ignores what I have to say.”
“We can’t keep going like this though,” Pestilence frets. She presses herself against War as if seeking his strength. “We’re all tired and injured and more likely to make mistakes. A single mistake and what happened to Death …”
Famine scrubs a paw over her muzzle as Pestilence trails off into silence. “What do we do then?” she mutters. “Try to reason with Apocalypse? Keep going until we die?”
“We run.” War blinks slowly and stares at Famine until she finally meets his unblinking gaze. “We can’t talk to him. We can’t sneak away from here. The only thing left to do is to get away while we’re outside on a mission.” He twines his tail around Pestilence’s and nods as if to convince himself. “We have to get away as soon as possible and that means today.”
The plan works perfectly until Apocalypse arrives earlier than expected. The golden lion alights on a rocky outcropping above them and they freeze under his molten gaze. They’re five kilometres away from where they should be and no excuse is enough to explain why there are here instead.
War takes a single glance at Pestilence and steps forward to challenge their mentor.
“I told them that our target was too well defended.” His voice is steady and he raises his head in calculated defiance. “They refused to leave without trying so I alerted the guards and forced them to abandon the mission.”
Famine stares at her brother’s back and slowly takes a step forward. War flicks his tail at her but doesn’t look back. Instead, he spreads his wings and takes to the air, winging his way up to land on the rock before Apocalypse’s furious gaze.
“It was my decision, as the oldest of us and only mine.”
Somewhere behind Famine, Pestilence makes a choked noise and War finally glances down at them. “I do not regret-“
Apocalypse’s bellow of rage rips the rest of her brother’s words away. Famine leaps into the air but before she can gain height, Pestilence snags her claws in her tail and drags her down to the ground.
“Can’t you see what he’s doing?” Pestilence slams a paw into Famine’s muzzle and the sheer shock of being hit by her sister clears the red mist from her eyes. “We have to leave! Now! While he’s buying us time!”
Famine rips her claws into the ground for a moment and then she and Pestilence are running, sprinting away without looking back, fleeing the shattered remnants of all they know. Behind them, War roars his challenge as he faces Apocalypse. It’s a thin sound, reedy and weak and utterly lost in the face of the golden lion’s furious answering thunder.
Although they wait at their prearranged rendezvous point for a week after they should have moved on, War never arrives. It’s a month before they move on, finally acknowledging that he will never come.
Events after Appoclapse.
After the sisters fled from their mentor they practiced the only skill they where good at, they became or remained Assassin. At the turn of the sisters' nineteenth and seventeenth years, they where approached by an Assassin by the name of Ajaina. She was the leader of a group of assassins that protected the rights of the people of Fera, while trying to establish towns with individual leaders and eventually install an elected government instead of the royal families. The group of assassins called themselves Societas or The League of Societas after the last uprising against the king.
The sisters where eager enough for change in the way the land was ruled as they remembered their own impoverished youth and agreed to join the cause. Their skills where put to use for the greater good as they assanate corupt mayors and townleaders. Eventually they will try to destroy the royal family of Fera, hopefully they will fare better than the uprising in Ales.
Written by: Sirrin (#86378)