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Chapter Two The Moor
Lingering in the high land was good to me because no where could be a better place for me when I transfigured myself. Mounst was surrounded by a vast moor dotted with broken relics along the high-land history. A death valley that no man dared to go made it look even more isolated. In bright daylight, the land would show an astonishingly primitive beauty, chaotic mist prevailing, signs of life glimmering. However, it turned to be a Hell in deep night. Even if endeavored as a cat, I would be scared by going there. Although my memories had nearly turned blank, there were still some remnants in my aged brains. I knew it had never been a peaceful land. The moor had witnessed so many wars between humans and monsters, even the homicides among the royal blood. The nights were freezing, even in mid-summer days. Lena told me once that she had heard weird ghost calls from the heart of moor. I thought it was merely her illusion. Besides, I knew how eagerly she was to to leave the land. Perhaps it was only one of her subterfuges. But later, as I was in the moor myself, I heard more mysterious voices than mere ghost calls. Plants are rare here. I thought it was lucky to be so because my ears would not be tortured by so many sighs from the plants as I had heard somewhere else on the miserable continent. I remembered that one day I was stumped to the ground by a root from an aged tree. Trees were the creatures who retained their most tender hearts from primitive times. Usually they would immediately apologize to me for any tiny hurt unless they were no more alive. This time I heard nothing from this tree. So I presumed that he was dead already. I lifted my head only to find out he was just too weak to utter a word.
“Are you all right?” it was I who felt very sorry now..
“I am dying,” he spoke in a sorrowful voice.
“Haven’t you sensed any changes here? It is colder and colder. My companions are diminishing. The dark clouds from north have overshadowed the sun. Humans ignore us. They tend to use us, out of their hatred, to make lethal weapons rather than made tools for living, out of love. Their ancestors had never done this to us. We are only woods in their eyes today. My, I am so old and exhausted.”
“Anyway, they are much better than the monsters,” I tried to console him lest he be killed by his ruefulness. “They will love you as long as they still love their ancestors’ land.”
“Perhaps, yes. Who can tell what will happen if the war goes on endlessly. The land is going to be desolate. When I was young…”
“At least there is an Elven Woods, ”I stopped him before he unfolded his nostalgic mental stream. It was quite common every time when a tree started their talking.
“The Elven Woods! ” he was refreshed by this name, but the moment was too short to make him feel better. “What a familiar name! And what a pity I am so far away from it. I wish gale had not brought me here when I was merely a seed. I wish I could see Elves again before I die. What a fantasy now! The Elves have locked themselves in their woods for so long that no one will see them again. They are killing themselves in this way like dwarves. My dear little cat, the Elven Woods will die some day with the Elves. You know, it is just the race with two legs, not the others, who has given life to the land. If they are gone or changed, everything on the continent will disappear or change. I know in my wooden heart, if the Elves are no more here, there will be no more Elven Woods. Then the human race…”
I was marveled at a tree’s wisdom. Before I heard this, I had never thought that the Elven Woods would die someday. Of course, I would not tell him, the trees in the Elven Woods were as unhappy as he was now. The Elves were no longer a merry race. Since the time needed no artists, they had turned themselves into warriors. Thanks to the arts in their blood, they did not stop singing, but the melodies were either pathetic or furious. They sang for the lost time, lost companions, lost love… All in all, everything they thought they had lost. Thus they had been torturing the trees around them unconsciously. The old tree was right that everything in the world could not get rid of the influence form the two-leg creatures.
Elven Woods! Elven Woods! My little cat’s heart was aching in this more and more sad moor. The old tree inspired my dream of being there again. At least there was still tenderness surrounded. But it was impossible at this moment because my legs were controlling my brains, the burning fire roaring in my body. I knew, my legs would choose a place for me rather than I chose where I could hide myself. According to my past experience, they would take me to a dead place without any single sign of life, only with sand and stones covering my naked body. No one could see my agony, no one could hear my groans.
“Shall I die this time?” That was the question I asked myself every time I was suffering. Fear and longing for death were the only thoughts in my transfiguration. But this time I had a strong desire to live because the old tree enlivened my memory of the Elven Woods. I must go there once again, to see the trees there, to talk with the animals, to touch the Elf who once asked me where I was from. He was so beautiful that I missed him so much…
Darkness came.
My hairs were dropping from my body. I ran like hell. My heart seemed exploding from the heat inside it, an invisible hand blowing my head tearing my soul out of my body. It was darker and darker and I had to leave my fate to my legs. My hairs were dropping. My body was expanding…
I was still able to catch the cries from the living creatures en route, “an Animagus!” a little wild flower screamed.
“A were-wolf!” shouted a tree.
“No, no, it is only a cat…”
Suddenly the gossips stopped. I felt the stigma in air. My destination was here.
My eyes turned blind. The whole world lost its meaning to me. What I could feel was only the tortures inside my little body. I knew nothing around me . Whether I was tearing apart by a monster or I was boiling in an oven from Hell. I could not feel whether I was bleeding or not because I was blind and numb. I began to howl. But I was unable to hear the voice of my own. I wonder if any others could hear it. Perhaps the voice had been immersed into the legends of the vast land.
Suddenly, every painful struggle stopped. My eyes were open again. To me, it was, again, a peaceful and beautiful full-moon night.
I looked around and soon found out it was a place that I had never known. There were no living things, only messy stones around me. I had to wait for the dawn again. “Time means nothing to a cat,” I consoled myself. However, I realized that I could not call myself a cat now. I was a monster instead, a hairless monster with mud and blood without hairs. Although the moon shined brightly on heaven, it was still hard to tell what color my skin was. The only part I could move on my body was my head. What I could see was that I had long black hair dropping from the top of my head. It was greasy and entangled wrapping my dirty body like a blanket. My sense was coming back, “ It could keep me warm.” I encouraged myself. I knew that at this moment I was no longer a cat. But what I was? A human? Because I had two legs like them. Or an Elf? I killed this idea on the instance it appeared. What kind of an Elf could look like this?! Suddenly a weird thought attacked me. A monster?! I felt panic. I often heard that a monster would be changed into something else by the curse of their masters or fellows, as a result of a punishment for their failure or conspiracy. Looking at me, I thought I was more like them in such a situation.
A monster. What a weird idea! But as far as I knew, there was nothing impossible in this world. Hadn’t I seen so many lives die at their flower ages? They should have been surrounded by corolla of life, drinking from the goblet of their eternal youth. Some other turned ugly and evil by the power they once had, reducing themselves to the Dark Lord’s servants. Why should I overestimate myself that I was not a cursed monster? After so many years’ futile seeking, I had abandoned the whim to find out my origin. What I had been dreaming of was someone could ease my pain in this tough moment. Of course, it was impossible. Even if someone happened to drop by, he may either kill me or eat me alive because I could not expect a nicer reaction with such an appearance. “How good to be a cat,” I sighed.
“Another boring night,” I mocked at myself. “ At least no one will annoy me.” I started counting the stars above, making awake dreams in this sleepless night. But I was wrong this time. Some ominous noises had broken the darkness. I got company now.
I heard coarse howls from troop-horses. They struggled, blowing out their nostrils. Heavy metals clashed, smashing the darkness into pieces. My strength came back to instantly. Oh, my dear, how long hadn’t I seen a battle with my cat eyes. Not since the warrior with harp talked to me. My curiosity overcame my fear. I elongated my neck to see what was happening.
Two groups of riders were fighting in the light of moon. It was hard to tell who was who first. A fetid smell mixed with blood and sweat was prevailing in air. It must be from the monsters. Humans gave off this kind of smell too sometimes, but not so strong and disgusting as the monster’s. Even in such a cold winter day, it still could beat down any fragile life. The helmets of the other group shone ghostly in the dark. I heard arrows flying, bowstring whistling, people shrieking. Just within a double distance of an arrow-shooting range I, a motionless monster, laid on a desperate earth.
“Retreat! We cannot hold on!”
“Your highness! Cover him! Ax left! Uhr, be careful! Hammer from the right side!”
“Gods! Where come out so many monsters! Terrific shooting! Who did it?!”
People kept falling from horses. Furious yelling and desperate wailing made the air freezing. The slaughter ground was moving to me inch by inch. The fighting people had abandoned their arches but drew out swords. The monsters were much taller than humans. Their figures were deformed enough to terrify any creature made from blood and fresh to death, even by looking at them. Their merciless giant axes simply split the human bodies into half. What a weak and ephemeral flesh the humans seemed to be at this moment! For them, there was no chance to win the fight, only to survive it. A young warrior had trapped himself into a more dangerous situation than his fellows because the monsters seemed focusing on him much more than others. He was a fearless fighter. Monsters’ corpses had piled up in front of him. But I could see he was fighting with his last strength. Lude! It was the prince of Mounst! “My prince!” I soundlessly cried from my heart. “Watch your back!” It was futile. He dropped. A fatal stroke from his back ended his fighting. I heard everybody’s screaming except mine.
When a moment like this came, what people could do was praying for a miracle. It was rational to be called a miracle because it either came too late or too uncertain. The Mounst riders dropped one by one till the last of them. The dawn was coming soon. But to me, it would be an endless darkness. The monsters’ hails flooded the vacant moor. They were about to cut all heads from the slain people or the-half slain, I was lying near them helplessly. The primitive excitement aroused by the fight submitted to a fatal sick in heart. I closed my eyes and the horrified face of the dead Elf jumped into my mind vision so vividly that I felt panic. The images of the children lying not very far from me now must look like him very much. I would never see them riding on their home land again. Both Elves and humans believed the other world and afterlife, even if no one had ever returned from there to relate the true color there, whether it was merry or sad, bight or dark? Living people mourned for the dead. They mourned because everything disappeared so easily, all of the suffering, struggling, even happiness died with them so rapidly. Who knew the truth of rebirth. Even if the dead could come back in another shape, it would also be another stories. Life, family or love would never be the same. How could an unforeseeable future replace what they had at present?
I was drowned in my messy thoughts, so desperate and lonely that I did not care how the monsters would treat their booties. It was all over now. It was just another bloody memory to me, I told myself, abandoning the idea of so-called miracle while it did happen. The monsters stopped their madness all of a sudden, leaving the whole land a morbid tranquility. No, not totally tranquil. There were subtle sounds stinging everybody’s ears. It was piercing but on one disturbed except the monsters and me. I heard them agitated. The sounds became even more unbearable mixed with the murmurs from the apparently-scared monsters. I began losing my sanity. Suddenly, they were all gone, the sounds, the monsters. My vision recovered. The first daylight awoke me. I was changing to a cat again. Compared with the process of being a monster, it was much more comfortable to back to a cat. I could move freely during the transfiguration. I rolled on the ground, stretched my half renewed body, ready to go the slaughter field, only to find that I was stopped by an unexpected shadow in front of me.
Yes, it was only a shade, mysterious and lonely, glimmering in the half bight morning.
“Where to go, you little monster,” he asked me coldly.
“I am to see the slaughter ground. To see what has left,” I answered unwillingly.
“What I want to see is what is left for you to be a something.”
His words reminded me of my awkward situation. I was still a monster now, half human, half cat, with a bare tail stuck to me.
“It is none of your business. I am a cat in transfiguration.”
“A cat?” the coldness in its voice was replace by curiosity. “were you a cat when you were born?”
“I don’t know. Can you tell me?”
No response.
“Well, if you have nothing more to tell me, let me pass to see the dead,” I became bolder as I saw it was not so dangerous as I had thought.
“Oh, the dead. No, not really,” the shadow lowered his voice in a funny way as if it had known some unknown secrets.
I would not waste my time on the shadow. The first ray from the sun had floated down onto the ill-fortunate earth. It was a quiet morning enlivened by golden lights as if an invisible finger had touched an invisible harp gently and woke up the earth. The mild corona colored the land with a sense of shyness. The rough stones and sands seemed refreshed from the sunlight. I got my illusion again as if the bloody nigh fight merely a nightmare. No, it was a waking dream because only in such a kind of dream I could see the broken limbs and bodies so real. The sunlight could not erase the bloody smell in air. Corpses piled up together that I could not tell the monsters’ from the humans’. It was not the first time I had seen this, but it kept scaring me. I hopped in the dune of deformed flesh, looking for the prince of Moust.
“Are you looking for the heir of Mounst’s throne now?” the shadow floated near chuckling. I felt angry. He must be a victim of a similar fight. Only by this could he be so glad to see the people who suffered the same ending as his. I was just about to show my teeth to him, only to find that he was enthusiastically showing me the way. He led me to a little tower of bodies. Actually it was a tower of headless bodies. The only one with its head left was a half monster, half human form. I was not afraid of the dead, no matter how terrible it may look like. If an Elf could be turned into a monster by the torture of death, what else should surprise me? I stretched my neck to make a clear vision of the head. Suddenly, a bloody and muddy face rose right just in front of my nose, bight eyes staring at me. I cried out and jumped as far as a cat could.
“It is you! I know I will see you again,” he seemed mocking at himself. “When I was born, a fortune teller told my mother that some day I would see a young elder in Mounst, and he would make my life significant. Now I see, you are the young elder. But you can no longer make my life significant because my life is leaving me now.”
“That is why you said I was weird?” I asked in heart.
“Your life is leaving you very quickly,” the shadow interrupted unexpectedly. “No one in this land enjoys long life. You are going to die like your forefathers. One of them is still lying in a cave only a few steps away from here. He is not the first victim in the Death Valley and I swear you are not the last one.”
Now I saw where my legs led me. The Death Valley! I thought Lude must be angry at what the shadow said. I glared at it as hard as cat’s eyes could manage because I knew ghosts had a natural fear of cat. The shadow did floated aback a bit, but Lude started speaking in an unusual steady voice.
“ You are right. I know you are telling me the truth. I have seen the skeleton left in the cave. I am always curious, particularly when I was very young. I saw the bones and talked to its master. He told me, the future of Mounst was upon my father, not on me because I was doomed dying young.”
“No, he is wrong,” the shadow floated forward again. “The future of Mounst lies on nobody but the Dark Lord. I was one of the kings in the land, an enemy of your ancestor at the beginning and an unfaithful ally later. We fought each other for the land that we both loved. It was me who lured your ancestor to explore the cave in the Valley. I knew he would never turn back. What a fatal stroke to his father! My intrigue succeed. The son died and the father heart-broken. But I was no winner. My knights and I died in hands of the Mounsters. I had been paroling here since that time. The hatred between your ancestors and I died with time passing by and with the Dark Lord coming near. I always talked about the future and feared that would be no future. Our greedy has been nurturing the Dark Lord. Death will take the last of u s away. The land will be a pasture of His backyard!”
“You are wrong!” the dying shrieked suddenly. Both the shadow and I were scared. Tears in his eyes, “My father, my father…”head dropped, ending the last cry.
“Poor kid. He gets rest at last,” the shadow sighed.
“Not yet,” a faint voice replied. A surreal hope rose in my heart again.
“Could you, my little cat, do me a favor?”
I stroked his face with my mustache.
“Would you go north, to the Elven Woods? Yes, I knew the hidden land. I met Elves there many years ago. One of them gave me a harp. In return I left him an arc with the strings made from horse bristles. And there was an Elven girl… please tell them, there are a wisp of my hairs mixed in the strings, and I was… ” He was unable to go on. Death was shadowing his face. He was extraordinarily calm and beautiful. It seems that he was backing to something charming in the past, together with expecting the ending of all sufferings. The head dropped again. The words were silently gone.
We waited in silence, waiting for his soul drifting out of his body, but nothing happened. I was wondering the unfinished sentence of the young man. He was what?
“Perhaps he is different from us,” the shadow said faintly. “He seems leaving without any fury. A soul without fury will on longer linger in the cursed land suffering from tortures.”
“Will he can go then?” I said in doubt. “I see no single soul out of any body in the death ground? None of them have any fury? ”
“It is a totally distorted time. Now the earth seems abandoning everything once belonged to her, visible or invisible. I am always feeling an unknown squeeze around me as if I were to be drawn into somewhere horrible or thrown away to a void. I felt that there will be no room for any creatures, alive or dead. I can’t figure out what happened to the souls here.” The shadow’s voice choked. I felt so sympathetic with it. Everything on the continent was too tired to hold on, even the ghosts. I became to wonder if there would be any bright future waiting for the creatures. However, at least there was still daylight around us at this moment and the sands beneath me could still offer me some feelings of warmth. I had to say farewell to the shadow and seek for the hidden world called the Elven Woods.