The Forgotten Zodiac

Nate blinked in surprise. "Oh, Seria..." He murmured, holding her close. "I'm so sorry that you're hurting. But I don't care about other half cats. You're the only one I care about. Their opinions shouldn't matter to you at all. You're still Seria, right? That's all that matters to me, and that's all that should matter to anyone else."

She closed her eyes, pressing against him. He was a comforting, reassuring presence that she deeply enjoyed having as a friend. She trusted him so much. She sighed after he finished speaking, rubbing one hand lightly over the top of her chest. She could clearly feel the space in her soul from where her ability to take cat form had come from. It was empty, but...maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. She thought about what Nate had said, then looked up at him. "...Okay." she murmured, her bright blue eyes spilling over with tears. "I believe you."

Nate smiled gently at her, wiping away her tears with an ever gentle sweep of his fingers. "You should rest too, before seeing this 'dangerous' girl. Though really, anyone would be dangerous after ten years of solitude and whatnot. I certainly would be."

She nodded slightly in agreement, but said "No. I won't be able to sleep. It...it comes from these powers. Any sleep I have is like a waking dream. You all should definitely sleep, though. We'll deal with everything in the morning. I'll stay up, since I can't exactly rest right now. I need to work on some things anyways." She shrugged slightly, then reached up and trailed her delicate fingers down Nate's forehead and to his nose, touching him there lightly with one finger, then pulled back and walked to a cabinet to take mental inventory of everything.

"Alright," Nate nodded. To be honest, he was pretty tired. Even though it was going on noon, pretty much everyone else was sleeping. Might as well. Nate sat in a chair nearby, but he stopped to say, "We should ask Cici who that 'Obelisk' thing was...she seemed to know." Then he was asleep, snoring lightly.

Luen dozed off next, pushing his muzzle against Forin's clothes so his soft wolf nose wouldn't get cold.

Jag stayed awake, stretched out on a bed in gryphon form with Lily laying against him, Spy curled up in the feathers of his wings. He watched Seria work, then glanced over at Cynyr. He had sharp bird eyes that could see for miles. He could tell that Cynyr never moved. Not even once, save for the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Personally, he thought that they needed to kill the panther and just let his suffering be over. But he wouldn't say it out loud, at least not where Welk could hear. That would probably end up costing him feathers. Finally, he lowered his head and rested his beak on Lily's shoulder, closing his eyes softly.

The girl Marr had talked about was sitting in the very back cage of the dungeons. Her cell was well padded with soft white cushions on the floor and walls. The small door was barred and locked securely, with barely enough space to slide food under the cell door. The only other place that was barred was the ceiling, where a small space for a candle sat. It was designed so that every evening, one candle could easily be placed in the slot there, allowing enough light to keep prisoners from going insane about how dark it could get at night.

The girl herself was wiry and thin. Long brown hair fell to her waist, looking as though it hadn't been cleaned in ages. Which, it hadn't. She wore usual prison garb; burlap shirts and pants, her ankle chained to a hook in the center of the room. The chain was long enough to let her walk around the small room.

She watched as breath clouded around her face. It had gotten cold so quickly. The guards would likely bring extra blankets soon. Unless they had forgotten her again. She was curled in the corner, where the padding was the thickest. And, in turn, the warmest. She was smiling despite the chill. Some terrible things had happened recently. She could sense the emotions and thoughts. Most of them seemed to be losing hope, but a few of them had recently regained it. The newfound hope was quickly spreading throughout the castle, at that. How interesting. What had happened?

Oh well. It's not like they would tell her, really. She was just an afterthought.

The next morning found Seria still awake and working. She hadn't stopped all night and still didn't feel tired. A side effect of divine healing powers. She wouldn't be able to sleep normally anymore. She had taken over the infirmary, organizing it into a much more useful fashion that would not only help her, but the regular doctors as well. She checked on the others again, then finally sat down, deciding to rest for just a moment, though she didn't need it.

Welk opened his eyes after some time passed, stretching a little as he woke up. He clenched his claws lightly against Werr, then relaxed them before they could pierce the boy's skin. He moved his head from Werr's chest to the boy's shoulder, putting his muzzle right against his neck and purring.

Werr jolted awake with his usual little yelp that meant, of course, he had a nightmare again. He smiled a bit at Welk, sitting up and yawning. He watched as a maid (who had been waiting since dawn for Werr to awaken) scurried off, probably to fetch his breakfast. Werr sighed. It would be awhile before he got used to being waited on again.

He couldn't help but smile again, though, scratching Welk behind the ears. He was happy to have thought about appointing Welk as his knight and guardian; they would be together pretty much all the time this way, though he was a little concerned about some of the kingly duties and how Welk would act. They got awfully boring sometimes.

Nate was next to awaken, yawning stiffly. He looked over at Forin, who was still awake, sitting in the same position still. "Anything happen overnight?" Nate asked, stifling another yawn.

"No." Forin said flatly. "Nothing happened at all."

"Good." Werr nodded. "I can't keep my reign a secret for very long, but as long as no one says anything, we should be safe until the official coronation."

Welk had jumped slightly when Werr had yelped, but he quickly settled down. He closed his eyes happily and purred away as Werr scratched him. He loved the boy a lot, easily as much as he loved Cynyr. He rolled over onto his back on the bed, stretching and extending his claws as he yawned, then straightened up and rubbed his head against Werr. He opened his mouth to say something, but froze when he heard the faintest of moans. His eyes widened in an instant and he jerked his head up, vaguely noticing that Seria had noticed it too.

It had come from Cynyr.

Seria got up and trotted over, placing a hand on his forehead and closing her eyes. When she opened them, she looked hopeful. "There's a flicker." she said. "It isn't much, but it's there and it's him. Not the dark magic. Werr made short work of that. He's actually starting to come back." She sounded shocked and she looked it as well, shaking her head in wonder.

Luna, sitting in a chair in human form with Cici in her hands, smiled.

"Really?" Werr sounded amazed and happy. He was indeed amazed, though he was mainly happy for Welk's sake. He still didn't know much about Cynyr. Airlia perked up as well; her master really was alive?

"It doesn't really matter, we'll all be dead soon enough. One way or another." Cici grumbled unhappily.

Seria glared over at her, saying "What's that supposed to mean? We're all here, together and alive, aren't we? We're going to be just fine." Thanks to Nate, the once-half-cat was ignoring her missing form easily now.

"Do not be such a gloom, fair light fairy." Luna said, gently stroking down the staff. "You never know what could happen."

Cynyr suddenly blinking his eyes open and weakly managing to lift a hand to rub his eyes was a fact of that, it seemed.

"What...what the h-heck...?" he muttered, and Welk's ears shot up. He remained frozen by Werr's side, in utter disbelief. Seria trotted over and touched his shoulder, watching as he lowered his hand and stared up at her. "Cynyr?" she questioned, her soft red ears tilted up. He closed his eyes for a moment, then muttered "Who else...? Y-you're acting like...like I've gone crazy or s-something..."

Welk buried his head against Werr's leg, murmuring something about how much he'd missed hearing Cynyr talk like that.

((You're, not your.))

"We'll all be dead soon enough!" Cici snorted. "Oh, great, more meat for Obelisk to pick out of his disgusting teeth. No, Werr, I will not be quiet! Wha...fine!" She fussed at her owner in annoyance, but then was silent again.

"You okay?" Werr asked Cynyr, smiling a bit. "You were kinda...not...you. For a good while there."

((Sowwie. D: But guess what? You are right on the verge of finding out what's under Cynyr's mask. o3o))

"Yeah...I know." the panther said, slowly and painfully sitting up. He looked terrible, of course. He leaned against the wall, curling his tail up into his lap. He looked down at himself for a long moment, his eyes actually sad. "What...did I do to myself?" he muttered, carefully reaching up to finger one of his ragged ears.

Welk thought of something and quickly took off the overcoat of Cynyr's he had been wearing, getting up out of the bed and trotting over. "H-here." he said, his voice nervous. He held it out and watched as Cynyr slowly took it into trembling hands. "...Thanks." he murmured, looking at Welk with a softness in his eyes that had been absent for a long time.

Welk just nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching the panther closely.

((S'okay. And YAY. : D))

"Er, you didn't do anything to yourself..." Werr said, wondering how to word it. "Well, you were kinda...taken over. By something called Dark Magic. We got you out of it, but...just barely. If we had waited even an hour longer before removing it, it would have eaten your consciousness completely." He said quietly, repeating what Cici had said when they had first started the removal process.

Cynyr's yellow eyes focused on the boy, watching him as he spoke. There was raw emotion there that looked like it had been pent up for a long, long time. When Werr was done, Cynyr looked down. One hand crept up and he brushed his fingers against his mask. Welk could tell he was biting his lip. "Thank you." the panther finally said. "I...am grateful. R-really." He sounded tormented when he said it, as if he really wanted to say the words, but at the same time, hated having them come from his mouth. "I think...I mean, I don't know...it..." He shuddered, closing his eyes.

Welk put a hand on his knee. "Cynyr?" he said softly.

Cynyr sighed deeply, then murmured "I want...t-to show you all..." It was a struggle for him to even get the words out, now. He sucked in a deep breath and finally forced himself to say "I want to show you what's under my mask."

Silence.

Seria looked shocked. She shook her head slightly and sat down in a chair, as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard.

Werr blinked in surprise. Even Forin looked mildly interested at this point, and Airlia had been completely focused on Cynyr since he had woken up. Diana was still asleep, not that she would care; she would be too absorbed by her own misery to mind anyone else. Spy was still snoozing in Lily's lap, although she was awake and more or less paying attention.

"I...if you want to," Werr said, unable to stop himself from staring at Cynyr in bewilderment.

((-is fully expecting a skull with just bones and eyes- I dunno, I always got that image in my head when I thought about Cynyr's face. xDD))

((...No. ono That was weird. He would be dead if that happened.))

Slowly, Cynyr reached his hand up to the edge of his mask, near his hairline. "I suppose…now…after all that we've been through…you all deserve to know what I hide from the world." He carefully hooked his clawed fingers under the edge of the mask. "This…is what I am." Then he pulled it down.

His skin under the mask was nothing more than a tight mass of twisted, thick, dark red scars, like what laced his arms. These scars were not like Forin's scars. His were pale. Cynyr's were dark and obvious. There was barely any undamaged skin on his face. His nose wasn't a nose anymore. It was two singed, ruined holes in his face. The skin around his eyes was so badly burned that it was a miracle that he still had his sight. His eyebrows had been burned off and had never grown back. His face was drawn and thin, and his skin was almost totally white from lack of sunlight. He looked like a skeleton with thin, scarred skin stretched over it. In one place on the left side of his forehead, the scars had been reopened by slashes and a thin piece of his skull was showing though the ruined skin. The half-cat had obviously been tortured over and over, barely giving him any time to heal between rounds of pain and agony. This was nothing like what Welk and Werr had seen in the pictures they had once found under Cynyr's bed. What had once been a noble, handsome face was now ruined.

Forever.

He didn't stop there. He slowly got off of the bed, then pulled off his tattered overcoat and let it fall to the ground, following with the bandages around his arms and the black undershirt he wore beneath the coat. His skin was covered in scars, from the tips of his fingers to his waist. He turned and let them see his back, which was just as scarred as the rest of his body, but it had a word torn into his skin. 'Worthless'. He turned back to face them, his yellow eyes brimming with sadness.

Cynyr put his hands over his face, as if trying to hide himself from them, his ears back in a very sad way against his head. "My father…" he started. "…had accumulated a large dept. I was seven years old. I had two younger sisters and my mother. I can remember almost everything about them. My mother was kind and loving, with long brown hair, a soft voice and blue eyes. My sisters both took after her. I sometimes think it's a curse how I can remember all of these things, because I regret so much. One of the things I regret is that I took after my father, ignorant fool that he is."

He sighed. "We had little money, if any, and my father accumulated an enormous dept that he couldn't pay off because he drank too much to keep a steady job. The dept collectors came many times, but he always had an excuse as to why he didn't have the money. He had been sick, he was applying for a job or he promised more and more money would be given next time they came. Eventually, his excuses ran out. We had nothing to give them, however. Nothing…except us. I, as the oldest child, was given away to pay off the dept. I can still remember every horrible detail of that day. I clung to my mother for as long as I could, but because I cared so much for them and their safety, I let go. The men ripped me away from her and my beloved sisters, who cried their hearts out at seeing their brother taken away. That was the last I ever saw of them. Crying in the doorway. And my father? Drunk in the corner, ignoring the cries of his only son being dragged away."

He shuddered. "I was given to an evil society that only wanted me so they could make me suffer. They told me that my father's dept hadn't been paid yet. First, I had to bleed and hurt. That was how the dept would be repaid. I didn't know what to do. I was young, only seven at the time. I knew that I had to get away from them, however. I knew that they were going to do horrible things to me. I couldn't get away, though. I tried. I tried so hard...! But I couldn't do it. And they were free to torment me however they wanted. Scars. They wanted to leave scars."

He rubbed his scarred face miserably, slowly sliding to the ground. "I can remember every round of torture. I can remember the pure fear I felt. They would do it every hour during the daytime and sometimes during the night. One scar at a time. They would take a knife and cut through the skin of my face, my back, my chest, arms or legs. They cut the word 'worthless' into my back. It wasn't just the scars, either. They would make me do things purely for their amusement. I would have to run, in panther form, from hunger-starved dogs. I was a lot smaller then, so I couldn't run as fast as I do now. Many, many times, I felt the snap of their teeth in my skin. I was so scared. When the men would finally leave me alone, I never, not even once, felt relief. Only terror. Because I knew they would be coming back the next hour. I was there for months. Then they decided that that wasn't enough and they decided to burn me. They hacked my hair off and put a torch to my face. I nearly died after they had burned me. The fire…the fire took my nose."

He paused and reached up, covering the two holes in his face from view, then continued. "My eyebrows too. They never grew back. I screamed so much and cried for so long afterwards. I couldn't stand it. I…I lost…my sanity. My mind. But I found it again, alone, without help. I had to. To survive, I had to be strong. I was broken and I recovered. But I had no one to help me. I can still remember what they said to me before they threw me out, after they had decided they were through with me. One of them, a grisly old man, leaned in and rasped 'your father's sin has been paid in blood'. Then they just left me to die. But I didn't die. I wouldn't die! I couldn't give them that satisfaction! So I struggled and managed to stand up and I just started walking.

"I found my way back home, only to find that my family was dead. The house was torn apart and their bodies lay scattered. The little home had been invaded by raiders and my mother and sweet little sisters had been murdered. A new scar was placed on my body, but this was over my heart. I was filled with despair. For hours, I wandered around in a daze near my broken home, trying to come to terms with the fact that my mother and sisters were laying on the ground, blood coating their bodies. I never found my father's body. I guess he must've gotten away, because Welk and I share the same father, which is him. Since Welk's younger, that means my father was still alive. Cursed old fool. I had to leave that place if I wanted to survive, so I continued on. Eventually, I couldn't keep going, so I collapsed and slipped into unconsciousness. When I woke, the first thing I saw…was Seria's face."

He closed his eyes, flicking his ears. "She had found me lying on the ground and had taken me to her healing base. She had tried hard to heal me, but…the most she had managed was parts of my chest and an inch around my eyes, because all of my other wounds were too much for her to repair. She was new to the healing arts, after all. I had nowhere to go, so I stayed there…with her. I made myself the mask I wear; to cover my scars. A year passed before I even knew it. I was out walking one day, during a rainstorm, and I found Welk.

"He was just a scraggly, wet little thing. Cold and shivering. I knew I couldn't leave him there, so I picked him up and took him with me. He doesn't remember a lot because he was fairly sick during this time. A little thing like him being left out in the rain hadn't been good for him. I knew, however, that somehow I was going to keep that little kitten. He was like me. Abandoned."

He sighed, flicking his tail once. "Four years passed. I was thirteen then. I should've been happy. But I wasn't. I couldn't be happy when the rare times that I looked in the mirror without my mask on, I saw…this!" He gestured at his face. "Me and Seria had grown close by this time. I had enrolled Welk in a school not far away, where he was living. That's why he didn't remember who Seria was when I first brought her to us. I visited him everyday and spent a lot of time with him. But Seria…I couldn't stay with her. I wasn't worthy of her. She was beautiful, while I…was a hideous monster."

He lowered his head, then continued. "I left. I didn't tell anyone. I went to the school and picked up Welk, then we left. We wandered around from place to place for over four years. By then I was seventeen. And I hated the world. I hated everything that had happened to me in my life. I felt utterly worthless, like the word on my back always said. The only thing that kept me alive was my drive to take care of and protect Welk. If I didn't have Welk, I would've killed myself a long time ago.

"We arrived in the town Werr lived in shortly after I turned eighteen. We moved into the abandoned house on the edge of town and we started going to the school there. It was half a year before we were really noticed by anyone. The first person to notice us and show any interest in us…was a boy that fell out of a tree. You, Werr."

Tears gathered in his yellow eyes. "Then everything up to this point happened to us. I was infected with dark magic. I can still feel the poison of the darkness creeping through my veins…sucking out my mind and breaking me. Again. But I can't recover! I don't want to! What's the point?! Why should I bother with picking myself up again?! I'll just end up falling back down! Even when I thought that things could be different, even when I thought that…that I could…" He actually whimpered. "…that I…could be loved…" he said softly. "…even when things seemed perfect, it always went wrong!" He clenched his teeth, closing his eyes tightly. "I hate myself!" he shouted. "I hate it all! I hate this face, I hate this body, I hate these scars!" He screamed the last part, sounding filled with hatred…yet deeply heartbroken.

He did not, however, let his tears fall. He wouldn't let himself cry. Even after all of this, even with the tears waiting there in his eyes, he refused to cry. He was teetering on the verge of sobs, glaring down at the ground even while his body quivered with pain.

There was a lot of silence for a very long time. Werr touched the scar on his face that Cynyr had given him not so long ago. No wonder he had been so mad about Nate dancing with Seria. "So...that's it, then?" Forin snorted, breaking the silence at last. "I've seen worse. Been through worse, though it doesn't show. My body is usually quick about covering up scars, besides these," He ran a finger along the pale scars on his arm. He shrugged.

"Forin," Werr frowned at him. "Cut it out."

"What? I'm just saying. He hates himself. That's nothing special. You people are all the same. Something terrible happens and you break down like tempermental toddlers." He slid off the bed, putting a finger inches from Cynyr's nonexistent nose. "If you hate it so much, put an end to it. But you can't, because self-preservation rules your puny minds." He dropped his hand, smirking a bit. "We're not so different. We hate things." He shrugged, then moved towards the door. "I'm going to find the kitchen. I won't stray," He said, leaving without another word.

More silence.

Cynyr flinched back from his finger, feeling terribly exposed in front of all of them. He put his hands over his face, trying to hide, trying to do something to stop this. But no. He had had a weak moment and had revealed himself to them. It was a mistake, he decided immediately. He shouldn't have done it.

Welk hugged him, sitting down on the floor next to him and wrapping his arms tightly around the hurting panther. Tears were dripping down his face, horrified that something this bad had happened to his brother. "It's o-okay." he said. "C-Cynyr, you can cry. You t-think you can't, but c-crying doesn't make y-you weak. Forget s-stupid Forin. He doesn't k-know what he's talking a-about because he's different. Please...it's okay. We're all here."

Cynyr started to breathe a little harder, straining to hold in his sadness.

Seria had tears pouring down her face, unable to bring herself to go to the panther. All this time and she had thought he had hated her, when really, it was simply because he though he wasn't worthy of being important to her.

Welk reached up and slowly touched one of Cynyr's scars, feeling so sad at the sight of those terrible marks. Cynyr flinched and closed his eyes tightly, sending a few stray tears dripping down his cheeks. Still, however, he tried to stop it, to hold back. It seemed that he would never just let himself cry, would never accept love from anyone else.

He didn't know how.