My earliest memory is that of fear. Fear and blood. Strange, I know, but then, my whole life has been one wild and strange adventure.

Who am I? Hmmmm? Not sure how to answer that. You see, until I take part in what is called “The Awakening”, I don’t have a name. Among other things, this is something I will receive IF I can successfully surpass this ceremony . But wait a moment, I seem to be getting ahead of myself. Let’s start over again shall we?

     With the violent screams of terror I once more sit up in my cot, tears streaming down my cheeks, my body a quiver with fear. Total terror shivers thru me from tail tip to head. My screams wake others, who come running down the hall to grab me and to try and quiet the shrills of maniacal screams. One brave soul takes me in her arms and begins to rock me while coo-ing soothing sounds. My body is soaked in sweat, yet she does not notice, intent on trying to calm me. She’s done this before, for the last 5 nights to be exact. And each time it is the same. And each time she is there.

     Her name is Celia. She is the ward governess. It is to her that all must obey and she who watches over us. There are 12 of us in this ward. Each no older nor younger than the first, each one sitting now silently watching her as she continues to rock me, each wondering at the fears that have taken over my mind in sleep. Each dreading that they will be the next to see these nightmares. Each thanking the Primes that it is I and not they who face these horrors, yet each wishing they could help me. We are the children of “The Consciousness”. The what, you ask? The Consciousness. It is the stage that comes before “The Awakening”.  We have no memories of before, only of the now. We do not know where we come from or who our parents were. We only know Celia and she has always been here, always been our guardian.

     I sit now, quietly rocking in her arms, mind and eyes blank, staring at the nothingness of the room. My mind silently takes in all around me, the Spartan cot with nothing but a small torn scrap of cloth to serve as a blanket, my clothes at the head of the cot for a pillow. The other cots are similar. No luxury was wasted here. No thick comforters to keep out the chill of the night or that of nightmares here. The walls are blank and cracked, paint peeling like small ribbons, the wood trim breaking from dry rot. The floors are covered in a thin layer of dust. We used to try to sweep it clean but it always becomes this way at night. We soon learned to let it go and to save what little energy we had.

    The others stand close, each in turn reaching out to place a paw on Celia’s back, arms, shoulders. It is in this way that all share in the horror, each helping to relax me and to remove this fear from my soul. I sometimes wonder as to how this works and why it seems important that all share this experience. Celia tells us we should not question, that we should just accept. I feel their essences flow into me. I feel each one of them, their minds one with mine. We share the moment and soon I drift off once more into sleep. Celia lays me down once more, covering me and curls beside me for the night. She knows that the “demons” of my sleep are still there. She senses them, she smells them…..she knows them.

     Morning comes, or at least what we accept to be morning. The world we live in is one of constant grey, grey clouds, grey light, grey. The stories given to explain this is that, in the last century, the old ones clashed together in battle over something as stupid as a flower. Each claimed it as their own and instead of sharing it, took up arms and ripped the world to sunder. Brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers fought each other and died together. The remnants of this past world still blot the lands. Ruins and derelict buildings litter the landscape. And in these are creatures that would enjoy taking your very life spirit. No one wanders alone here. Not and lives.

    Celia gently shakes me, waking me to the day. She smiles at me and I can sense her worry. I smile back, trying hard to blot out the memory of the previous nights. Last night was the worse. It seems that the closer I get to “The Awakening” ceremony, the worse it gets. I mentioned this one time to one of the Elders and was told I was a foolish child. The Awakening is the very life of our kind. It is the destiny of all our lives and hardships. Many have given their lives that we few can experience this ceremony. He sent me to the chapel to pray for forgiveness. To give penance for my lack of faith and to ask for release from whatever evil deeds I must have done to be bothered by my inner self in such a way. It did not stop the dreams.

   We all went to the eating room and sat at the long table. Others of a different kind came and placed food, if you can call it that, before us. Our breakfast consisted of a grey kind of bread and a bowl of some metallic tasting dark fluid. We were encouraged to consume large quantities of this fluid. It was served at all meals and even between. I often found that the taste seemed to bring visions to the edges of my mind. Visions that seemed to call and beckon me to seek more. When the meal was done, we all rose to go to our studies. As I moved to join the others, Celia stopped me and made motion for me to remain. I watched the others leave, each looking over their shoulders, an almost fearful look in their eyes. This worried me, even Celia would not look me in the eyes, her head and gaze averted. I was about to ask her why I was to remain behind when “HE” entered the room.

     He was a rather large feline, walking upright and cloaked in the finest black robes. All along the bottom hem, sleeves and collar were traces of intricate ruins made of what seemed like the finest silver threads. When I say he walked upright, he actually seemed to glide on air. No noise nor sound could be heard in his pace yet you felt it in the air. The power and majesty overwhelmed. His presence was that of royalty. He quietly walked over to us and as he did nodded to Celia who bowed and stepped out of the room leaving me alone with him. He sat down on the bench beside me and looked me over for a few minutes before speaking. His voice was like the thunder of the skies yet was very easing on one’s ears. I will never forget his words or the power it placed in my soul.

     “And how are you this morning, little one? I heard the night was one of terror and fright.” He paused waiting for me to speak.

     “ I…..I… I am well my lord” I stuttered.

     “I have come to you this day to try and help you and in doing this, I will need to tell you exactly who and what you are, little one. I have tried hard to not do this too soon, wanting to at least wait till you took the ceremony, but it seems the time is drawing closer sooner than we anticipated”

    I watched, my head tilted. A feeling began to build in my stomach, a feeling of almost knowing what he was going to say before he said it. It was coming back to me. This was a part of my dreams at night. This feline too was there, I knew it now and with this knowledge also came the fears. They skirted the ridges of my mind, hoping that this was all a dream once more. Yet I knew it was not and awaited for the words I knew I was going to dread.

     He noticed the change in my manner and for a brief second, it seemed he was not going to force the issue. He quickly recovered his demeanour and looked me deeply in the eyes. His lips moved to speak……