*As with all chapters labeled 'Extra' you don't have to read them to understand the main story. However, by reading them, you'll learn more about Aelurus and the Kingdoms of Eridan as well as showing some of your favorite characters that little bit of extra love. *

Nine years ago, Kingdom of Aelurus

☆

His eyes reminded Kinnra of the sky when reflected in the placid surface of the Black Sea- each housing a swath of ever-moving grey in search of their next destination. Gods, she'd loved those eyes, and she couldn't think of anything else she'd rather gaze upon as the last of her life left her.

As blood slipped out of the wound in Kinnra's stomach, staining the forest floor, she could still hear faintly the screams of the other villagers, fey'las and kits who wouldn't be as lucky as she. They wouldn't just be killed, felled by a swift cut across the throat or gouge to the stomach, they'd be tortured, enslaved and sold to the Moonborn with the fattest coin purse.

Kinnra was blessed by comparison. She would get to die, cradled in the arms of the fe'ren she loved, bathed in the waning light of that night's crescent moon. A cool breeze rustled the tops of nearby Ni' elle ah trees, blowing free a flurry of silver, star-shaped leaves that fluttered around them. If they'd come to this forest under any other circumstance, Kinnra was certain Lain would have settled under one of those trees, parchment and quill in hand as he wrote one of his darling poems.

He would have gotten tense and bashful the second Kinnra asked to read it, but Lain would have given into her demands- just as he always seemed to- and she would've eagerly eaten up every word inked on the paper.

She'd taught Lain how to read and write, despite his reservations and concerns that they'd be discovered and punished according to Aelurian law, but once he'd seen the beauty in language, how it could recreate emotions easily lost in the hassle of every day life, he'd fallen in love with it, and in turn, she'd become enamored with his poems.

But in her near future there would be no more poems, no more shared kisses or private jokes. She would never gaze upon the sea, study it, feel the water as it ran over her hands, slipped under her bare feet. She would never discover its secrets, something that she'd promised to do with Lain.

Still, she could gaze upon him, and as far as lasting memories went, that was enough. He was enough. He always had been.

Smoke rose over the treetops, wisps like angry, outstretched claws reaching up to rend the very stars from the sky. Lain didn't turn his eyes back toward the village. He looked only at her, his hand pressing down on her side, trying to keep the blood inside her body.

Kinnra tried to speak, but only syllables, wet and blood-soaked, escaped her lips. In that moment, she saw Lain's horror, the image of herself-mud-covered and bloody-reflected in his gaze, being preserved forever in his mind's eye. Kinnra's heart broke at the very notion of him remembering her this night. He'd be haunted by it, certainly, consumed with his grief. Kinnra wanted anything but that. She didn't want her death to stop Lain from living.

Mustering every ounce of strength she could, Kinnra reached a trembling hand and pressed it to Lain's furred cheek. His eyes went wide at her gentle, almost nonexistent touch, and then tears started to fall.

Don't remember me like this, my love. Don't let my death ruin you.

"Kinnra," he purred, his voice soft, frail, bereft of the confident bravado that almost always coated his words. "Kinnra, I can't-" His hand reached up and cradled her own, trembling and ice cold. His fur was wet and stained with her blood.

Kinnra wished she could weave her fingers through his own, to remind him they were stronger together than they'd been apart, but it was impossible now. Her remaining strength had been sapped from her body; it was hard enough to stay conscious, to stay focused on those wonderous eyes, let alone move.

So, she did the only thing she could for the fe'ren she'd fallen in love with, the Aelurian she was to be bonded to, she smiled, just as the last exhale of air was chased from her lungs, her hand falling limply back to the ground to rest forever beside her body.

---☆---

They'd both loved the sea, that's what first roused his interest in her. She wasn't just another moonless daughter parading around the village markets in hopes of attracting a mate. Though Lain admittedly thought she'd been exactly that, but then again, he was an idiot in those days, back before he'd fallen irreparably in love with Kinnra Lin' Lazri.

The day he'd first seen her, really seen her, had been two weeks after she'd started popping up at the markets, sweeping in and out of merchant stalls, a tornado of silks, curled lashes, and jeweled fur.

The fey'la Lain glimpsed now had been bereft of those silly adornments, standing in simple skirts, tunic and muddied boots, staring at the Black Sea. Her fur contrasted the bone-white sand of the shoreline, making her look as though a gods' tree had taken root. She was stock still as the tide rolled in, black water lapping against the toes of her boots.

Lain'd been carrying three barrels of pickled brickleweed then, to deliver to a sea rider ship anchored at the docks, but at the sight of her-another Aelurian-marveling the sea, he dropped them, each barrel crashing against the plank walkway. Pungent yellow preserving liquid soaked his trousers and slipped inside his boots.

She wasn't afraid of the sea. Instead, this fey'la stood in blatant defiance of it, watching intently as the water crept back toward her, this time encasing her feet completely. She ducked down to touch the water, soaking her furred fingers before rubbing forefinger and thumb together as if feeling the sea. The tide retreated back to the main body of water and she waited, hunched over, until it encompassed her again. This time though, she cupped her hands and let the black water pool inside the hollow made by her pressed together palms. When she'd amassed enough, she brought her hands to her mouth and drank. Drank from the Black Sea!

Myendar, was that a stupid thing to do. The water was poisonous; everyone knew that and yet-

Immediately, she lurched forward and spat the water out, her small face scrunching in disgust. Then, she shot to her feet, shaking her head and tail, which Lain had always thought she kept too short and stubby to be of any practical use, as if to rid herself of the taste.

A laugh he hadn't been able to choke down escaped his lips and the cat-woman whirled around, her skirts flaring out around her ankles. She met Lain's gaze with her own, one singular and unapologetic. He was mesmerized instantly and was hit with guilt for ever assuming she was like the other fey'las.

Underneath her exquisitely light brown fur, Lain saw the full beauty of her unadorned face. Her rounded head, slightly large nose, and thin, pursed lips. Her whiskers, short and stubby like her tail, trembled slightly, indignant like the rest of her. Her eyes, deep brown like damp soil that goaded spring into bloom, fixed on him, narrowed in irritation. Even her tail now seemed perfect. Everything about her was perfect.

"And what is it you find so funny?" she said, arms folded across her chest. A single piece of longish, brown fur fell in front of her eye which she didn't bother to brush aside. The swish of her tail gathered grains of sand that stuck in her perfectly brushed fur and Lain couldn't help but laugh harder.

She furrowed her brow and growled before turning, with every intent of stomping right out of his life forever.

Lain was quick to collect himself and cleared his throat, straightening his muddied, stinking tunic in the process before daring to address her. "Everyone knows the sea is poisonous. Too much salt." The fey'la turned and scowled. Lain shrugged. "It's common knowledge, passed to us by the failmakers and yet you decided to taste it anyway, as if the outcome will be different."

She glowered, her back hunched as if readying an attack. Lain stood straighter, embarrassed an Aelurian half his height made him this uneasy. "I wanted to know for myself," she said, puffing out her chest. "Aelurians rely too heavily on the words of others. I just thought for once, an Aelurian should think for herself."

Lain'd been right- she was different, but there was no way he'd be telling that to her face, so instead, he said, "You sound like a ratta."

She jutted her chin and snorted, reminding Lain of one of those sand-roaming needle boars. "Cloudians are a very intelligent race. I'll take your words as a compliment."

Lain sneered. "Intelligent ratta?" He chuckled. "Yeah, right. That's why they have surnames like Bigears and Rattail and why they chose to live in the sands-"

She huffed and slammed her boot heel on a nearby outcropping of obsidian. "They didn't choose to live there. Our ben'essren chose the barren wastelands for them when they sought asylum."

"If they wanted somewhere nice to live, they shouldn't have destroyed their homeland." Lain scratched at the back of his head and gazed out at the sea, dismayed at the souring mood. He'd wanted to engage her in conversation because she'd seemed interesting, and instead, here they were bickering. Hoping to turn the tide of conversation back toward something more pleasant and casual, he asked, "So, how was the sea? Poisonous?"

She shifted from foot to foot, her boots sinking further into the wet sand, her ears drooping slightly. "It's salty." She averted her gaze and her tail went limp as though it'd been a tunic hung out in too humid of air. "But I don't think it's poisonous."

When she looked back at Lain, something new resided in her eyes- a kind of brilliant, contagious excitement. Lain felt as though his world had just gotten a little brighter.

"Really?" he said.

She nodded and sauntered toward him, lifting her palm out for him to inspect. When she was within arm's length, an intoxicating smell of fresh ink wafted off her. Shaking his head to get rid of the myriad of embarrassing thoughts he had bombarding his brain, Lain looked at her hand. Nestled among her beautifully smooth fur was a piece of something green, as long as one of her whiskers and maybe four times as wide. It looked like a blade of A'effdel grass, though distinctly slimy.

"This was in the gulp of water I drank," she said excitedly. "Got stuck between my fangs," she pointed with her free hand toward her mouth where two very thin, very white fangs protruded between her lips. "It's some kind of vegetation."

Lain crossed his arms and thumped his tail against the wooden pathway. "So?"

She sighed and in one swift motion, flicked Lain between his eyes. He shot back, stunned. She smiled, before turning her attention toward that curious sliver of green. "This means that the Black Sea isn't poisonous, or at least, not for all life." She turned to face the smooth, vast ocean. Grey clouds reflected in its surface. "There's a whole other world down there our failmakers have failed to see. All because they're afraid of getting their fur wet."

"I guess the name suits them then."

She whirled around on her heels, head cocked. "What do you-"

"They're failmakers and they've failed at studying the sea."

She nodded. A humid breeze swept between them, rustling the fey'la's brown fur and jostling the silver bands adorning Lain's tail. She shivered, and an urge to wrap his arms around her ballooned in Lain's chest. He swallowed and shook his head. "Uh, you know," his hand found his head and he started scratching though there was no itch he needed to remedy. "You're not like the rest of our kind."

The small cat-woman chuckled, her laughter warm and lighter than air. "I've been told that once or twice before." She kneaded the fabric of her outer skirt between her fingers and their conversation lulled.

"I-I want to be a sea rider some day," Lain blurted, afraid that if the silence lingered she would leave. At once, he felt his skin grow hot and found himself thankful for his abundance of grey fur.

She looked up at him curiously and Lain mulled over continuing. Maybe he should shut his mouth and pretend he'd never spoken. He hadn't known why he'd spoken his desire, when anything else would have been better, but surely, if anyone could understand his love of the sea, it'd be her- the fey'la who'd willingly drunk the poisoned water.

Lain decided, against all better judgment, to continue."And I don't just mean being one of those sea riders who ferries supplies to the castle, who always hugs the shore and remains in plain sight of the land. I want to experience the sea, ride out as far as I can, where the land disappears and I'm surrounded, just myself and the great, unknown waters."

After a long pause, that had Lain holding his breath while his heart plummeted into his boots, she finally sighed and her lips moved to speak. "That sounds wonderful. When you do travel the sea," she smiled and Lain's pulse quickened. "Let me know if there's room on your ship for two." She clasped her hands and turned forward, toward the water. "I wouldn't mind being surrounded by the sea. I could study it and-"

She stopped mid-sentence and looked down. Lain had unconsciously reached for her hand which he now held gently in his own. This fey'la had said when he rode the sea, not if, when. This creature, bereft of fancy skirts and jewels who he'd witnessed ambling between stalls and striking up conversations with merchants, had faith in him, in his dream. She hadn't sneered at him or laughed. She hadn't told him of the death that would surely await him on the water so far from land.

Lain turned away suddenly, releasing her hand, his tail thumping in tandem to the wild beating of his heart. "What's your name?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Kinnra," she said, smiling. Lain nodded. Kinnra, he thought. It suited her. Short, to the point, lovely. "I'm glad you finally mustered up the nerve to talk to me, Lain Ves' Vahnes."

Lain spun around and faced her. A mischievous grin split her head wide open. Kinnra shrugged. "I've wanted to meet you for a long time.

Lain fumbled for words. "Wh-why?"

"When Father had me parading around the markets in search for a mate," she grimaced and stuck her tongue out in disgust,"I caught a glimpse of you staring at a book stall."

Lain shook his head. "You must be mistaken. I wouldn't- Lowborns are forbidden from-"

Kinnra continued, "'There's a fe'ren who wishes to know the world just as I do,' I'd thought to myself." She smiled again. "And then I thought about how much I'd like to get to know him."

She pocketed her blade of sea grass and gathered her skirts, turning to leave. "I have two eyes, Lain. I can keep one on the sea, and one on the fe'ren who's interested me so." She started back up the pathway toward town, not giving Lain the satisfaction of an over-the-shoulder glance. "I hope we speak again."

She waved goodbye, leaving Lain reeling in her wake- a frazzled, heated mess of embarrassment and nerves. She was like a storm, blown in off the sea just to destroy every last strand of Lain's calm. Smiling, he picked up the remains of his brickleweed barrels, and continued toward the docks, resisting an urge to turn tail and follow Kinnra back to town.

While stomping across the warped planks that led toward the shipping yard, Lain decided on two things for his future. First off, he would quit this job and dedicate himself to the pursuit of his dream. Secondly, and more importantly, if she would allow it, he would make Kinnra his mate and together, they'd ride the sea and unravel all of its mysteries.