The Lost and the Found

Chem had silently padded away into the big, wide world to seek the rest of her tribe. She needed to find them as quickly as possible, as her old and faithful friend, Linka, was dying. Raga had told her to find the others as quick as her little legs would let her but her blistering speed was no match for the dusty, cold floor which shot pain up her tired paws, every time she took a step.

It was almost night and the desert looked strange and scary. Millions of shining stars dotted the sky and the prominent, looming cliffs of the canyon nearby, stood over the rest of the desert like an angry parent, standing over a naughty child. The pendant around her neck had seemed to become heavier and heavier as she travelled and it was beginning to get sore where the strap was rubbing over it. Stopping near an animal's skull buried in the sand, she looked at Raga's pendant, which he said would bring her luck. It was oddly shaped, not like the usual pendants the elders wore in her tribe. The basic shape was there, the backward arrowhead but, on this one, some jewelled wings grew out of the sides of the arrow. It was strange but Chem wasn't interested for long.

Shivering, she looked up at the darkened sky, which seemed more blue than black, as if she was lost in a puddle, even though there was a full moon tonight. She realised that if she didn't find the tribe, she would have to sleep out in the wilderness so she growled loudly and then did a little roar to break the silence. She was rather pleased with the outcome, as Chem had been practising all the time with her father…Remembering her parents she roared again but this time louder. Her voice cut through the dusty wasteland like a knife, destroying the silence but again, she heard no reply. 'The tribe must have moved on,' she thought but didn't at all believe her own words. She knew she was lost. However, she was sure this was the right place. Stepping backwards and glancing both sides of her, she suddenly realised, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that she was very, very alone.

On the other side of the desert by some jagged, crumbly rocks, which had cracked and tumbled down the sheer sides of the nearby cliffs, another cat sat alone. His name was Dracon, Balmor's son, but at the moment he did not feel like anyone's son or anyone at all for that matter. After he had watched his father return looking defeated and covered in blood, Dracon had realised he had got in yet more trouble with the enemy, The Keyra.

"Father, how could you?" Dracon had roared glancing Balmor up and down with disgust.

"You know how things are, the shortages of food, I was so hungry. They have so many in their tribe and they run through the lands eating all the food and now they have come here. I will not let them eat all of ours," Balmor snarled and Dracon stepped back from the bared fangs.

"We have plenty of food," he bravely protested back, "Why do you have to keep attacking them? It's cannibalism! You just make them hate us more." This had really upset Balmor who was taken aback at his own son saying these things,

"They attacked me," his father began, "Look at me! Look at me you fool! Cuts, blood, scars…don't you care about me?"

"Father…"

"My own son," he snarled spitting dry blood into Dracon's face, "with 'them'."

"No!" Dracon screamed looked around at the faces of the others in his tribe for help. No one offered any. "I am not with them!"

"Don't give me that!" he roared, "You always have been the weaker spirited one. You have a bad heart." Dracon was now sobbing and shaking his head, "You do not belong here but you are still one of us." Balmor said turning his back to Dracon.

"I will try to be like you, I will! But why all this killing?"

"We kill so that we can live," said Balmor's bodyguard, Ruff, who had padded over to mock the young cat.

"I don't...think…that…is…"

"Look at you," Ruff said circling him, "crying like a cub for the enemy and saying that our young should die of starvation, just because you want the other side to flourish. You make me sick!"

"Did I say that?" Dracon snarled at Ruff. He hated his father's bodyguard because he was a good fighter, very brave and someone his tribe could be proud of. Ruff was a perfect example of what his father wanted him to be like. Balmor turned around and said quietly,

"You must therefore decide. Us or them?"

"I…"

"Choose us, then you will follow on to be the great leader of this tribe after I pass away. However, choose them and you will be treated like the enemy: killed and eaten." Ruff burst into laughter as Dracon's face drooped with shock and Balmor stared patiently at him with those evil, black eyes.

"You would never kill me!" Dracon roared and ran off leaving the rest of the tribe staring glumly with shock at him, as if it was his fault.

He now sat alone, staring at the bright, shining stars. He was so sad he began to cry once more, the teardrops running down his face and hitting the rock like rain. No one else in his tribe had cried or if they had, he had never seen them. They were all too cold-hearted and expressed their sadness as anger instead of crying. He made sure no one was watching and sobbed more, the salty tears now begging to roll down his whiskers.

"I'm not like them," he said to himself. Getting up, he leapt from his rock and ran into the darkness of some nearby trees. A last look behind him settled the matter…he was leaving them.

"Well, you gotta keep on going,

"Where ever you are,

"Keep on smiling even though you think you are,

"All alone and without you spirit,

"Listen to all of that happy cheer,

"That is when you will know you are near,

"To your home!"

Chem was singing an old warrior's song and trying desperately to comfort herself. Linka would be okay, he had Raga to keep him warm, and she could sleep somewhere tonight and find the others in the morning.

"Trouble is," she whispered to herself, "where to sleep?" She suddenly realised she was enjoying herself even though she was scared stupid. She had never been out on her own before, her father made sure of that and it was strange having to defend and comfort yourself. She realised why true warriors were really courageous. They always travelled about by themselves not caring whether tomorrow they would be dead or alive.

She hummed a little tune and suddenly she noticed that there were trees to the left of her. Dark looming trees, almost threatening, but it was shelter. Running over gleefully, she bounded through the first bunch of trees and found what they had first come looking for.

"Oh, Lyall!" the young cat screeched. Spread out before her was a shimmering pool of water, reflecting the moon and stars above in the clearing. She went down to the water's edge and looked at her reflection. It had been a long time since she had had a proper look at herself. Chem was a very pretty young cub, with big eyes shining in her soft, damp fur. Her little feather earring had become tattered and torn but she kept them in all the same. Lapping up the water and drenching her face she was unaware of the stranger who had come up behind her. After refreshing herself, she opened her eyes and stared at her reflection one more time and her eyes met the gaze of another cat's image.

"Eek!" she yelped and fell headfirst into the pool of water shattering the reflection. The water was compressing her lungs and some binding weeds under the water seemed to pull her deeper and deeper into the darkness below her. Bubbles flew from her mouth as she tried desperately to swim to the surface but something made her stop as through the film of water, she could see the distorted figure of Balmor, grinning at her from the ledge. She finally spluttered to the surface, spewing water from her little mouth and slapping the water with her paws. Her tail was still burning but it had become weaker and her limbs felt tired.

'So that's what it's for,' she thought not keeping her burning eyes off Balmor, 'the fire on my tail is to show how powerful I am!' It was a quick conclusion but near enough correct and as she slowly regained her breath the blue fire on the end of her stubby tail burned more brightly.

Balmor was walking up and down the bank but Chem was so dizzy, from where her head had hit the water, that she couldn't focus on him properly. She did, however, see the paw he held out to her to help her get out. She didn't take the paw but instead paddled to the centre of the pool.

"What's the matter, Balmor? Can't you swim? Come and get me you scaredy cat!" she growled threateningly. The cat didn't respond but just looked confused and dazed as he saw the young female, almost drowning with fright, in the water.

"I'm sorry," he said grinning, "I'm not who you think I am. Sorry to disappoint you." He slumped down in the dirt and sighed. Chem realised it wasn't the stranger, the slayer, she had met before and swam to the edge of the pool and examined the young cat.

He was roughly the same age as her, maybe a few years older, but his fur was striped and course and his face was long and slender but still he was still a cat of some kind. He was not, however, a Keyra.

"Whoops!" she laughed and sat next to him, "It's just I met someone a bit like you earlier on but he wasn't as friendly."

"I know," Dracon said simply and drank some water before returning to the trees. "I must go, goodbye."

"Hey!" Chem shouted. Dracon turned and faced the female and saw anger in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"You're just gonna leave me?"

"I'm sorry, I must go and find somewhere to stay the night." He slumped off into the trees.

"You really look upset," she called after him, "maybe we can be upset together?" She heard the young male return and he looked at her worriedly.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You know, Balmor attacked me?" Dracon nodded silently and managed a fake smile. "He hurt my friend, Linka too and…"

"Oh," Dracon said. He had heard about the battle from his father who said he had killed someone by the name of Linka but also mentioned someone else. "Um, you are, Raga?" he asked looking at her closely.

"No, my name's Chem. But my friend is called Raga. He's back in the desert somewhere trying to bring my friend Linka back to safety who was knocked unconscious in the battle."

"So he's still alive?"

"Yes, but I was meant to run back to my tribe and get some help but I'm afraid I got a little lost on the way. Raga may have made it back by himself by now." She slumped off into the trees bored of the conversation and impersonated Dracon by saying, "I must go, goodbye!"

"Very funny," he replied amused at his new friend's antics. Why couldn't his tribe be like this carefree young cub? "I'm Dracon, nice to meet you Chem."

"Yeah it is isn't it? Everyone likes meeting me!" Dracon laughed and smiled at Chem. He had never got on so well with anyone before but something about this young female really cheered him up and all his sad thoughts disappeared. Something clogged in his throat as he saw dried blood scars on her body.

"There is something you should know," he said, "I'm Balmor's son. But please don't misjudge me! I'm not like him at all."

Chem nodded and said, "I know."

"Stop making fun of me," he laughed.

"You aren't like your father at all, I mean you look like him but…" she waved her paws indicating badly what she meant. Dracon however understood and lay down closing his eyes. 'Finally,' he though, 'some one who appreciates me for who I am.' His world became blurred as he fell asleep and the last thing he saw was Chem's smiling face as she lay next to him.

Copyright of Meghan Fisher