The Cat-Eared Messenger

Tor had always been different from the other cat-folk.

Where her kin were content to laze in sunbeams and chase simple pleasures, Tor craved adventure. Where they gossiped about fish markets and mating seasons, she devoured tales of heroes and far-off lands.

"Strange child," the elders called her.

"Dreamer," her parents sighed.

But Tor didn't care.

She knew—KNEW—that her destiny was greater than catching mice and bearing kittens.

And when word came that the new Demon King sought a personal attendant, she was first in line.

"Tor."

Luna's voice cut through her daydream.

"Yes, Lady Luna?"

"You have a mission."

Tor's ears perked up.

"A mission?!"

"A diplomatic mission." Luna handed her a sealed scroll. "You'll travel to the Southern Wolf Tribes. Deliver this to Chief Fenrir and await his response."

"I—me? But I'm just—"

"You're fast. You're inconspicuous. And you have a talent for reading people." Luna's red eyes held hers. "The young master believes in you. Don't disappoint him."

Tor clutched the scroll to her chest.

"I won't!"

The journey south took three days.

Tor traveled light—her Shadow Blade magic scroll pouch at her hip, thirty magic crystals in her pack, and her wits as her greatest weapon.

The Southern Wolf Tribes occupied a vast territory of rolling hills and scattered forests. Unlike Schwarzburg's orderly fortress, they lived in mobile camps, following the seasons and the hunt.

"Halt!"

Wolf-folk sentries materialized from the tall grass, surrounding her.

"Identify yourself, little cat!"

Tor's heart hammered, but she held her ground.

"I am Tor, messenger of Demon King Altrelis of Schwarzburg! I carry a diplomatic message for Chief Fenrir!"

The wolves exchanged glances.

"The new Demon King sends a kitten as his emissary?"

"This kitten has teeth," Tor retorted, then immediately wondered if that was wise.

To her surprise, the lead sentry barked a laugh.

"Spirit! I like that." She gestured. "Follow. The chief will decide if your message is worth his time."

Chief Fenrir was enormous.

A mountain of grey fur and muscle, he dominated the tent's interior like a force of nature.

"So." His voice rumbled like distant thunder. "The Void Demon King sends a cat."

Tor stood as tall as her small frame allowed.

"A message, Great Chief."

She presented the scroll.

Fenrir took it with claws that could have torn her in half.

He read in silence.

Minutes passed.

Tor resisted the urge to fidget.

Finally, Fenrir set the scroll aside.

"Your king asks for our warriors. In exchange, he offers trade concessions and mutual defense."

"Yes, Great Chief."

"And what does a cat know of war?"

"I know that divided, we fall." Tor's voice strengthened. "I know that the humans see no difference between wolf and cat, lion and fox. To them, we are all beasts to be conquered."

Fenrir's eyes narrowed.

"And if we refuse?"

"Then Schwarzburg fights alone. And when we fall—" her voice didn't waver, "—your people will be next."

The tent fell deathly silent.

Then Fenrir laughed—a booming sound that shook the tent poles.

"Brave little cat!" He slapped his thigh. "You speak truth without fear. I like that."

He rose to his full, terrifying height.

"Tell your king—the Southern Wolves ride with Schwarzburg."

The return journey felt shorter somehow.

Tor practically bounced as she walked, Chief Fenrir's reply clutched safely against her chest.

"I did it," she whispered. "I actually did it!"

She couldn't wait to see the young master's face.

Couldn't wait to see Luna's rare smile of approval.

For the first time in her life, Tor felt like she mattered.

Like she was part of something bigger than herself.

"Excellent work."

Altrelis read the reply with visible relief.

"Fenrir commits five hundred warriors. Combined with our forces..."

"Still outnumbered," Luna noted. "But the gap narrows."

"And the political message is powerful." Fido stroked his beard. "If the Southern Wolves stand with us, others may follow."

Altrelis looked up at Tor.

"You did well."

Tor's tail wagged uncontrollably.

"Thank you, young master!"

"Don't let it go to your head." But his smile was warm. "There will be more missions. Harder ones."

"I'm ready!"

Isana snorted from her corner.

"Youth. So eager to run toward danger."

"Says the woman who once challenged an entire mercenary company by herself," Luna remarked dryly.

"That was different. They insulted my aim."

Tor's eyes went wide.

"Really?! What happened?!"

"They burned. Every last one." Isana's smile held no warmth. "I never miss."

The room fell silent.

Then Tor's tail began wagging again.

"That's so cool!"

Isana blinked.

It was, Altrelis realized, the first time anyone had ever called the Fire Witch "cool."

End of Chapter Six

—Next Chapter: The Flame Witch's Past