Fur of midnight.

Fire that burns emerald.

It’s footsteps left the land it tread on desecrated.

In its wake it left legends dead but walking.

Undead dragons roamed, arrows could not pierce its scales or hide. Blades tempered by the gods could not cut its flesh as it was a dragon.

Undead heroes clad in armour of legends slaughtered armies before they were put down.

Leading this march of death as decay was a cat with midnight fur. Of fire that burned emerald. We named it nekomata, and prayed to never see another again.

Encyclopedia of cataclysmic beings, Volume 4.

I wake up to the sounds of vomiting. Human vomiting. Or some enlightened race. It is much easier to demonize the humans for some reason. I look down from my resting spot in the branches to see a lot of pure white robes. A shiver of fear runs down my back as I remember the pain of a single girl in robes could cause me. How near death she put me.

My fur stands on ends form an instinct left over. My claws dig into the branch as I take a few breaths. I can escape…. I can kill quite a few of them… None of them are as strong as that one girl, none of them are as finely tuned to the holy spirits to resits my magic if I surprise them.

I look up at the sun and take note where it is in the sky. I move quietly and carefully in the branches to a part that is mostly covered in shade. I commune with the spirits of darkness to coat myself and the area around me in darkness. To hide form the prying and fearful eyes of the humans down in there pure white robes of death.

They do something to the goblin’s bodies and the elfs. They bury them. I smile at this mistake. I push my mana into the death spirits with the task of rising them but telling them to lie still. For now. I watch as they set up tents.

I watch as they send out scouts.

I feel mana flow into my being form the scouts dying.

I watch as only one returns, his snow white robe covered in blood and vomit.

I listen as he tells of finding the unhallowed goblin nest, how countless goblins are roaming this forest spreading the blight and hunting any animal they can get there hand on. The men and women in white panic.

I watch as they set up a barrier around their camp. I am inside of it and so is half of the bodies that I have risen.

I watch as the sun sets and most of them lie in their tents.

I watch till the moon reaches its apex in the sky. I jump down from the tree making not a sound.

I stalk forward to the man in white still awake, tending a flame.

I leap and bite down on his neck tearing his windpipe out and I watch him drown in his own blood.

I rise the body in white robes. I order the bodies that are buried to rise from their graves.

I feel my connection between them strained. Something they did is making it hard to control them.

I light them a flame with lich fire. I order them to tackle the tents and hug those that are inside.

I listen as the men in white scream awake, their souls burning in agony. Their bodies rotting off of their bones. Nothing left to be welcomed by the gods, their bodies mine to rise and do with as I wish.

When the last man in white dies the barrier drops so I walk out while ordering the raised bodies to the goblin camp to stay and not roam out. I do not wish for the blight to spread and warrant even more of those men in white, so they do not chase me constantly…

I walk to the weird road that I saw that lead in and out of the tent city and I follow it away form the city while as a cat. I am not sure what I am going to get the chance to kill so I need so save as much mana as I can… I miss my bed and my mother's stomach.

~~~

A box on wheels pulled by horses stops in front of me. It looks fancy and reminds me of what that girl used when I was a cat. The door opens and out steps a girl, a young girl who has her eyes locked on me, “Mother! It is a beautiful kitty cat!”

I raise my head at the praise. Of course I am beautiful, I was bred to fit among nobles. There are no other cats as beautiful or as graceful as I am. Because I am a powerful mage kitty. I need to remember that. The people in white cloth could not stop me even when together in a place filled with holy magic leftovers. I am special.

“Clara, do not touch it. Do you not see the bag around its neck? It belongs to someone. It might be a nature mage familiar.” A much more mature voice comes from the interior of the carriage. It holds a bit of that sound wisdom that my mother held. I walk up to the girl while purring and rub my face on her leg taking care not to show just how intelligent I am.

I have learnt what humans do against those different than what they expect.

The girl looks to be between five and ten. I am not sure really how to measure human age. But she is young and I come up nearly to her knees. She is wearing a sky blue dress that I am currently rubbing on and against. Her hair is a blinding blond that looks like someone melted down gold into hair and placed it on her head. Her eyes are green, like a summer green grass. Nobel blood I think.

“Come back to the carriage Clara, the adventurer city said they are in need of the king. We are the best thing that they could have. Devil cat. Ha! They would not know what a devil is if it bite their areses.”

“But mother! The Lady Ranger is dead by the Shining Hero’s own blade! The Praying Maiden was god-touched just to warn them of a evil in their midst, the evil took her own comrades blade and killed her! They were heros! Now they are sayin they might give up adventuring!” Are they talking about the man in armour and the girl in pure robes?

“That is right Sweetie. I am glad you remembered all that form eavesdropping on me and the messenger.” They are ignoring me. ME. Well the girl looks like she is panicking from getting outsmarted by her mother. That means she is ignoring me. I headbutt her leg and meow at her. That will sh- HEY WHY AM I BEING PICKED UP?!?

“Look mommy!” The little brat sniffles while hugging me to her chest. I am stretched out to my farthest reach. I can barely feel the ground with my tail, taunting me with its firmness and non-children hugging, “The kitty tried to cheer me up! It must mean it likes me!”

I do not. I like to be praised, petted, and fed. Not picked up, squeezed like a toy, and shown off as a trophy!

“Clara! Put. It. Down.”

“Yes mother…”

I am reunited with the land and I take a running start down the road, away form the city of tents and the hugging child. I will be cute and social on MY terms. Not hers.

~~~

Days past as I walk down this road. No other carriage has stopped to try to pet or pick me up. I went at my own pace. I spent some time on a very sunny day simply napping in a leafless tree out of reach anything that would touch me, or attempt to steal my bag of holding. I then spent the rest of day cleaning my fur and making sure that my coat is shining and beautiful.

During the night I actually chanced upon a hamlet about the size of my home. A single figure is walking around during the dark, so as a cat I naturally follow! I want to see how twisted these humans are, if the gods have corrupted even simple and good folk that tend the land.

At some point the figure, a women, noticed me and smiles, “Such a cute cat. It’s fur is so dark I did not notice it till now. Are you friendly?” I meow at her and walk up slowly. I put my head against her rough dress and rub my face all over it to show how friendly I am, “Such a cutie. I think that is what humans say? The hive has information that most humans have pets… Would you like to be my pet?”

What.

“Ahhh why am I asking. Of course you would. You’re so cold and death clings so close. I am doing a good deed on taking you in.” I am picked up by two soft and small hands as the not human hugs me close to her chest, “So so cold. Do not worry young cat, I will help you become alive, or you will die… I have never tasted cat.” Why is she still talking in that sweet voice while talking about eating me? I am not tasty! I am dead! Halp! HALP!

“Shhh, do not be afraid my gentle little pretty kitty. Andrea will take care of you! Humans talk like this to their pets! So I must as well to understand humans and how they are so dominant on this world!” Oh no. No no no no no.

“No no no no no no no no.”

“Kitty… spoke? Cats don't speak… do they.”

“You are NOT eating me! I am not tasty!”

I bite and struggle my way out of this not humans arms. She drops me and looks down with a sad look on her face that the children of the village had when I was not in a cuddling mood, “I do not wish to eat you small kitty! I wish to care for you!”

“I am fine! I am not near dead, I am dead!” I stare her up in her eyes, “Do not even think about stinging me or calling some hive down on me. I will not be a happy nekomata!”

Her eyes widen and smile very creepily at me, “A nekomata?! Perfect! You can help my hive and I farther our brood!” She giggles and crouches down, petting me once more.

It is a very rough petting, I do not like it, “SOFTER! Softer! Damn to the hells, how are you so bad at petting?”

She tilts her head to the side, “But this is how they showed me to pet the dogs. Is this not how you pet cats?”

“No no no no! Your technique is awful. Put your palm on the middle of my back, then lightly stroke down it to the tail. Stop BEFORE the tail! I still do not know why my butt goes in the air when that happens…”

Following my instructions the not girl strokes her hand down my back while sliding her spare hand under my body and picks me up, “Well little nekomata, you have a name don't you?”

I nod, “Ebony! My mother gifted it to me and I love it quite much. I will not be called anything but it to those that know me.”

She giggles and takes my paw in her little feminine hand shaking it, “I am Andrea, well that is what they call me. This village. In my home, I am simply a drone. I am disconnected from my hive… on banishment.” She looks to the side. Looking a bit sad.

A instinct form being raised with humans had me headbutting her chest lightly. To cheer up humans that look sad. She has not put any part of me in her mouth or… other parts that means to eat me. So? It is not bad if I stay with her for a bit?

… I might just like being taken care of.

“No talking around the other villagers! Just play that cute cat that I picked up randomly and took in!”

“What do I get out of it?” I tilt my head. It is completely insane of this girl for her to think I will just simply hunker down when I can keep roaming. True it is dumb to try to fit in with humans in my human form till I learn more about them, and more ways to avoid those in pure robes.

“Food, you still like food?” I nod. “Pets as well? You seemed to elite about.”

“I am a elite specimen of a cat! I deserve the most elite of petting and food!” I huffed and break eye contact with this not human. She smells a bit off. A bit more damp and the earth spirits seem to dance more heavily around her. The spirits of the mind that I have seen hive mind like beings utilize are despondent, refusing to acknowledge her at the moment. So far. Her story seems true.

Besides. I miss home. This place reminds me of it. But with humans. I will have to actually act like a cat around others. Maybe I can use my human form to socialize when I want?

The girl walks quietly to a single house on the edge of the little village. I am in her arms, my tail wrapped around her arm as I lean against her soft chest yawning. It is great to be a cat.

I watch with sleepy eyes as she opens a door with her arm that is not holding me than walk inside the dark home. She places me on the ground so I take it as my que to start to explore to my unbeating heart's content.

The front door enters into a wide and large multipurpose living room and kitchen combination. There are a few doors that lead to a bathroom, a bedroom, and a small study like area. I of course head straight to the bed and jump on top of it while curling up in a ball with a small purr. A bed is much better than the grass of trees.

I do not need to sleep as I am dead, but is is relaxing and feels right. I am not even sure how I sleep as I am dead and more ghost than real. But I do. It is odd, but I am glad that I can. The world would be more dull, would pass too slow otherwise.

I would not get to play with interesting humans as much. I would not get to dream. I would not get that amazing feeling of waking up from a long and deep slumber where the world does not seem to exist and you are just utterly relaxed.

Sleep is wonderful. Naps are wonderful. Food is as well.

I watch with sleepy eyes as Andrea climbs into the bed. She slides into the soft covers and closes her eyes, “Gods… This is strange.” I hear her mutter. Maybe to herself?

“What is?”

“A nekomata. A damn nekomata just stumbles on my doorstep. I do not believe this to be honest. Not completely. I am from a old, old, old hive. A race of doppelgangers that rose aside humanity. Just the humans. We had our highs, and we had our lows. But for the countless years that we have lived among them, learning, mimicking there was a general understanding no matter what. We will never be as great as them. We asked why a few times but made no real effort to investigate why. I broke off from the hivemind, I became an individual. It rarely happens, almost always as punishment but I choice it…”

“You are all over the place. Tell me something, one thing.” I huff. It is so bad listening to people tell stories like this. Mother did it all the time and I disliked it. The only thing the bag of bones did right was tell a story and teach.

“Right right… I… Um… Where do I begin?”

“Your race?”

“Right. Probably need to know that. The Hive’s first memory was a life as a human. Some type of wild magic, where the spirits danced free twisted it into something not human. We look human, act human, practically the same inside and out but we all are connected by blood and the hive mind. We all share all our memories. We call ourself dopplegangers. We can have children with others of our kind of other humans, but the fertility rates among us are low so our numbers have never been high. There is a lot about us that make us, US, but we have never been a hero. We have never slayed a dragon. We have never became a great mage. We have never been GREAT… We are lacking something that humans have. But we are much older. Much wiser…”

Never once was I spoken. It is strange to see a human speak of themself as if they were many compared to one. I hear her quietly sob. I do not know what she is feeling but I get up from my comfortable ball chape and curl up near her chest purring. Here we lay till her sobs grow quiet and her chest rises slowly than falls just and slow telling me she is most likely asleep.

I fall asleep shortly myself, no reason to be awake. So I do what any cat does, nap.

~~~

The next morning I am woken up by a hand messing with me while I sleep. I tuck my paw under my chest to hide it from the molesting hands of children… with children?

I open my eyes to see two children staring at me with wide and happy grins. One a girl, and the other a boy. The girl lets out a squeal of joy, “Miss Andrea! Look how pretty its eyes are!”

“Yes Maple, he has very pretty eyes.”

“Miss Andrea you are sure he will not lash out like the farm cats?” The boys grin slowly falls as what I assume a small trama overtakes him and he steps away. A light scar is visible on his hand form what looks like claws. The girl has no such fear as she is petting and touching my back and ears as I try to melt into the covers to escape the grabby hands.

“I promise David, he is a very intelligent cat. If you go get him a piece of smoked ham form the pig that we put down a few days ago, he will probably do a very simple trick for you.” Oh you’re fucking kidding me… Tricks? TRICKS?!? I THE GREATEST CAT TO LIVE WILL DO TRICKS FOR CHILDREN?

I huff and get up form the covers while putting on the best greater than thou expression and air that I can muster. I jump form the bed, walk to the kitchen, jump up on a table than use that to reach the stop of the shelfs out of reach of any of the fuckers who do not know my greatness.

~~~

How… How did he get up there?

We stare up at this strange, almost human like nekomata that is glaring daggers at the children and we.

we will admit, when we first saw those malice filled eyes we nearly sunk to my knees and begged for my life. One life that the hive has lived saw the power and aftermath of a nekomata rage. An entire content was blighted, dead roamed. Everything was dead.

It took a fleet of elder dragons to burn the blight away form the land, and since than it has been a desert content with very little life inside of it. Only dragons rest and nest on those barren lands and rise their young in peace of foolish young heros that wish to seek glory by killing young dragons and making armour from their hides.

But that was another life that we saw the mistake of that…

Thankfully, Ebony has simply wished to jump out of reach from the small children whose parents are working the field right now.

It is our job in the village, to watch over the young that are too young, weak, or sick to work or practice in their trade.

We smile up at the black cat that is plastered out of reach from us lowly mortals. Well till we get the chair and get him from up there if he tolerates it.

Well David has returned with a few sausage links that the village butcher probably gave him out of kindness. That is what we love about village life, it is usually very kind and giving. Well off villages like this one will happily share their belongings or products. Selfish villages usually never live for long, only towns have that sin crawling inside of them.

We watch as Ebony tilts his head to stare at the sausage links. His pupils widen in a reflex of hunting cats. A small purr is heard through the room as he gracefully jumps down from the high cabinets and sit down right in front of David. He lets out a loud meow while his eyes are locked on the sausage links with hunger. If his eyes could eat, the meat would of vanished already.

“I… Uh… roll over?” Poor, sweet David. He has always been so nervous around others, even we. We watch with a mixture of amazement and horror as the nekomata, one of the apex in necrotic magic roll over on the ground. A being that could bring a content down to its knees and bury it. Making thousands of years of human work vanish as it traveled the world.

A being like that rolls over like a dog.

We stare in a mixture of shock and amusement as the sweet child David tears off a piece of the sausage link and puts it on the floor in front of Ebony. Ebony picks it up in his mouth and escapes up the table, up to the cabinets once more

For the rest of the day Ebony stayed up on top of the cabinets outside of the reach of the children. He slowly, very slowly ate the sausage with a small purr being heard throughout the room form that small cat. It is amazing just how loud yet gentle the sound he can make is.

We think that there is magic behind parts of it. Maybe he does not even know how much ease he can use magic. To speak so freely with the spirits. There are rare ones that are born loved by some spirits but never to the degree as dragons, dryads, beast of the wild, beast of spirit.

The closest option we have is to ascend, demonify, or become a lich like being. We have to give up being human.

That is why that little cat up there terrifies us. It is beyond us. We have no options expect to welcome it into our home, gain its favor and hope that it offers its help. We can not be fooled. No matter how human it may act, it is a beast.

The two children parent come in the early evening to retrieve their children and greet our new guest. They thank me for helping David get over his small fear of cat, even just if it was the first step. It helps that Ebony does not feel like a regular cat. The spirits dance around him too well, but we do not think they notice as they do not have the experience of countless lifetimes in dabbling in magic.

A few minutes after the children left we heard his voice. It sounds like it was whispered in our ear just inches away. He does not even open his mouth to speak. The sheer harmony of the spirits with this being is that starling, he uses them to speak.

The legends did not give the scale of minute mastery and the depth of the relationship of this monster and the spirits of the world.

“I want more of those ‘sausages’.”

“I will see about getting some if I can pick up a bit more work, or you can beg the children?” Gods, We plead you. Do not let the-

“Stop. Do not call the gods unless you want me to react in kind.” We freeze. Our minds stop the prayer that has become a habit at some point in all of the lifetimes that we have lived. We look to the nekomata and watch as its tail flicks sharply with undisguised hatred and fear. It… fears the gods?

“W-we are sorry.”

“It is fine...I thought it would be obvious that I do not want the holy and purity spirits around me. They and death along with decay do not agree. Toxicity.” We make the mistake of locking eyes with the avatar of death that is resting on top of our shelfs.It’s eyes are wide. Dilated pitch black orbs with a ring of frost around them. A cold cold abyss.

We shiver. It feels colder suddenly, “

It hops down form the shelfs to land on the floor in front of me. It’s mangled tip of a tip flicking as it walks past me, rubbing its cold body on my pants legs. I-I should reconnect with the collective. To w-warn them… and not be alone with this thing. I feel alone for the first time.

“Let’s head to bed? I wish to rest the stress of the children away.”

“I have a few chores left…” I keep my voice steady as it claims my bed for itself.

“Alright. Good night Andrea.”

“Goodnight Ebony…” Why does he have a dyrad name? So many questions in that little nightmare.