A memory-faded and frail-seeped into Lucy's consciousness as he gazed at the waning crescent moon above.

Vaalsen, Kian' dar min.

Words he'd never heard spoken before, echoed in his mind, mired in his subconscious, a visitor clawing at the door, begging to be let in. Like a fog, the words permeated his synapses, replaying over and over, giving rise to a melancholic beat until nothing but the sound engulfed him.

He wondered what it was about those words that made him feel such longing for something he couldn't place. He tried to remember, but no matter what he did, the words and the soothing voice that whispered them remained dormant, lost to time.

Tearing himself away from the night sky, Lucy turned his attention back toward Laos, a city in the thralls of chaos. He could hear its heartbeat-- sweet nothings whispered over iced whiskeys, cries of passion being screamed behind closed doors, drunken footsteps unsteadily traipsing over cobbled side streets. He heard the echo of someone's fist colliding with sandstone, the jeers from the onlookers, and then the yelling coming from the business' proprietor.

The liveliness of the port was a needed contrast to the stifling quiet that suffocated him, Abby, and Crum in the grove, awkwardness draped over them like a wool blanket on a sweltering summer's day, unwelcomed and unbearable.

Both children were ill-equipped to handle a meeting that didn't end in heated words and bruised flesh between the legs. And Abby-without thinking-had spilled her innermost thoughts to the boy, making the moment sullen, neither of them knowing how to move forward.

Lucy had been confused as the whole situation unfurled, wondering why the girl gave her private thoughts a voice that would fall on Crum's ears. But humans were puzzling creatures-logic barely ever leading action-a symptom, he supposed, of the human condition.

Lucy curled up on Abby's lap, the folds of her dress offering him protection from the bite of the night air. Overhead, wisps of gray clouds rolled in off the north and promised of rain.

As nothing of interest held the cat's attention, he nuzzled his head in the crook of Abby's elbow, resigning to a quick nap. But a flicker of red darted in front of his gaze, hovering over one of Simon's branches. The cat's ears perked up in excitement, his gold eyes glimmering as though he'd stumbled upon treasure.

A goldenfly stood on Simon's branches, its long, armored neck stuck out, antennae gently stroking one of Simon's leaves. It released a soothing hum into the air before leaning close, tearing at the leaves with tiny pointed teeth.

Lucy'd never seen a goldenfly before, though he'd read about them plenty. Creatures with bulbous black eyes reflecting the world they saw a thousand fold, silver wings housing their nervous systems, hundreds of thin veins carving intricate, geometric patterns on their bodies unique to each goldenfly. Their abdomens glowed a muted red, reminiscent of the last embers of a once mighty fire. They were rare additions to Mirea, rarer still to the coastal regions, and a sighting of one was to be met with celebration; a firefly told of good fortunes to come.

Lucy watched as the creature enjoyed its snack, nibbling on the leaf with tiny, delicate bites, its abdomen gently pulsating. As the goldenfly finished its meal, it let out an abrupt screech in contrast to the smooth, low tones of its humming, and took to the sky, finding kinship among the stars.

A second wind whistled through the grove, winding its way through branches, playing with Lucy's whiskers. The cat sought more refuge, adjusting himself deeper in the folds of Abby's dress, a pair of gold eyes watching him from the forest.

Lucy turned to meet his brother's gaze; Sebbi's eyes were half-veiled by star-shaped leaves, his paw swatting at a tiny brown beetle before he turned and melted back into the darkness. Lucy scoffed. Sebbi's heart wouldn't allow him to roam too far from Abby though his cat's pride wouldn't let him get too close.

The cat sighed, believing his brother's stubborness to be a part of the cat condition, and got up. He stretched, jumped off Abby's lap, and headed toward Sebbi.

The forest smelled off as Lucy approached, his instincts blaring in his head, the tiny hairs on his back standing on end as if electrified by some invisible force.

As he stalked closer, poised and ready for the unknown, a tiny field mouse poked through the yellow leaves of the underbrush, sapphire eyes bulging with fright, darting back and forth over the grove in panic.

Lucy stared at the mouse with the strange gem-like eyes, something from deeper in the forest must have startled it. With a jostle, the mouse bolted from the forest and barreled straight toward the cat at full speed.

Lucy managed to dodge the mouse with ease, sidestepping at the last minute. Perplexed by what had spooked it so, he slapped a paw down hard onto the creature's tail, twisting its body awkwardly until it fell on its rump, staring up at Lucy with eyes that sparkled with defiance.

A slight grin found the cat's eyes. "Odd little creature, aren't you?" he mused, leaning forward to sniff the mouse, its coarse fur tickling his nose. "You look at me with eyes that disregard our positions. I'm the predator, you're the prey. Shouldn't you be wetting yourself right about now?"

The mouse twisted its body, trying to free its tail from Lucy's grasp. It didn't seem to care at all that Lucy's mouth was dangerously close to its belly, or that the cat had his fangs exposed. Either the mouse was an idiot or whatever had scared it from its hiding spot was much worse than the implied danger from Lucy.

"So what has you in a panic?" he asked, hoping for an answer though he knew he wouldn't get one.

To his knowledge, only Sebbi and himself could understand human language. And when your only conversational partner was out and about attacking gardens and angering the help, it made for very lonely, very frustrating days.

The mouse stopped its squirming to gaze up at Lucy with quizzical eyes. The cat sighed and released the creature's tail.

"Best get back to the house," he called, slinking into the forest. "The maids throw the leftovers away by dawn. If you want your fill of crumbs and cheese rinds, now's your chance."

He waved the mouse a goodbye with a few swift side-to-sides of his tail, the mouse taking the opportunity to slip into the night, running off in the direction of the house.

Lucy's gait slowed as he squeezed himself between two large Burlas at the forest's entrance, their gnarled bark rubbing against his sides and back. Ground, dried and cracked, stretched out before him, barren of any leaves, grasses or needles.

Shadows swayed along the forest floor, mimicking the thick canopy overhead, moonlight filtering through the trees, spotlighting piles of raised dirt.

Lucy headed toward the piles with caution, each one glowing red and releasing thin plumes of smoke into the air. They smelled of fire, of scorched earth. The same scent Lucy had smelled on that mouse.

Ash. They were piles of ash.

Lucy's stomach grew tight as he plopped down on a moss-covered rock. He eyed the smoldering ash piles with suspicion as he waited for his brother to appear.

"What do you want?" Sebbi hissed as he slunk across the ground, mindful to avoid the piles of ash.

"The ash. The smell of fire. Has something been up here in the woods?"

"It's just the Brigg children. You know how they like burning things," Sebbi replied, his attention turned to a family of goldenflies fluttering over head.

Sebbi watched as one of the smaller goldenflies broke away from the group and landed on the grass, its tiny antennae caressing one of the star-shaped leaves closest to the cat.

With a grin, Sebbi caught the bug, its abdomen pulsing yellow under the cat's paw, making him look as though he'd been alchemically touched.

Lucy sighed. "Quit playing with the lesser creatures," he chided. "It's unbecoming."

"That beetle had it coming. He clipped my paw with his pincers."

"And what of that little mouse?"

"What mouse?"

"Didn't you scare it? It was running from here like it encountered something awful."

"Wasn't me. Lots of things hunt mice."

Lucy looked his brother over; his long fur grew in wild tangles on his hindquarters and around the nape of his neck, peppered with dirt, crunched leaves and broken twigs.

"You look downright dreadful," Lucy said, raising a paw off the rock to sniff the mouse's scent; a lingering odor of something burning filled his nostrils. There was no mistaking it, the mouse and the forest smelled the same.

"Sorry my looks appall you, Lucien," Sebbi snapped.

"Why is the estate's mutt addressing me so formally? Lucien. I haven't been called that in years."

"It is your name, is it not?"

"Yes, Sebastian. I do believe it is. But I didn't think a cat with twigs jutting out from his ass could be so formal."

At this, Sebbi growled while disappearing into a low thicket. Through the jagged branches, Lucy could see his brother struggling to free a twig from one of his mats. Lucy let out a chuckle; Sebbi was so easily embarrassed.

A shadow danced on the edge of Lucy's vision, capturing the cat's attention. It swayed violently on the ground, opposite the canopy overhead.

Lucy knew enough of the human world to know this was unnatural. And as much as he wanted to deny what he clearly saw, he couldn't. His instincts were telling him to run, his mind screaming at him to grab Sebbi and get away.

"Sebbi," Lucy whispered, nodding for his brother to come toward him. Sebbi acquiesced, though hesitant, releasing a beetle he'd just captured from underneath his paw.

"What's got you so quiet all of a sudden?"

Lucy shot his brother a glare for his loud response, his tail swatting his brother on the backside.

"Hey-"

"The shadows," Lucy said. "They're moving in the wrong direction."

At this, his brother finally seemed to take notice of the awkward way they jilted across the ground. It wasn't just one, it was many. Shadows of trees, shadows of bushes, spreading out over the ground, writhing in tandem to a chaotic rhythm only they could hear.

Lucy slunk back slowly, his brother following suit, a child's rhyme the cat had heard sung in the port coming to his mind:

The shadows dance apart from us.

Frightful at nightfall,
the shadows come alive.
They watch us,
They lure us,
They destroy us.

He thought it was nothing more than a child's roping song, one warning children of the dangers of going out at night unattended. But as he watched the shadows separate from their sources, he thought the song wasn't just a warning for children; it was a warning for everyone.

The cat brothers crept toward the forest's entrance, the shadows melting into one another, congealing on the forest's floor, a mound of black ink taking shape.

"We need to leave," Lucy whispered as the shadow's form split open, flashing the cats a dripping, menacing smile.

"Hurry," he said, his brother beside him, both cats scrambling to get to the grove.

Overhead, Lucy saw a fire burning brightly. Hundreds of tiny goldenflies were gathered, consuming the night sky in a blaze of throbbing red. As they ran underneath the glowing bugs, Lucy couldn't help but wonder what that meant.

One goldenfly spoke of good fortunes to come; what did hundreds of them mean? The knot in the cat's stomach twisted as he ran back toward the grove, toward his beloved Abby.

+---+---+---+

The shadow mass didn't follow the cat brothers; it was only ordered to watch. The top of its form split open, releasing a hiss of black gunk into the air.

We've found you! it screamed. Princes of Aelurus.

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