Eagle Awakening

Lavender and gold marbled the sky. The chill air seeped beneath the black robe Tygra wore as he stood beside an open window. He waited for the brilliant rim of the sun to appear on the eastern horizon. The day had come when he would leave Third Earth in the service of his king, a separation he feared. Would the journey through space sunder the soul bond that chained him to Talitha, and thus condemn them both to the Silence? In that instant of freedom before death would they even know what had occurred?

The asira'savi who had appeared before Cats' Lair had suggested that they would be safe during the transition between worlds. Because of this assurance from the alien, Lion-o had sanctioned his voyage with Tir'shan to the world of the Four-Forms. Yet the universe had proved to be a dangerous place, neutral in its purpose, and providing no guarantees.

Tygra gazed across the room brightened by the increasing natural light to the figure on his bed. Talitha would soon emerge from sleep. The Felinari'i moved to an ugly wooden chair, and sat. He took care not to bump the cradle that rested near its legs. The architect gazed down at the sleeping cub barely visible beneath a knitted blanket. His nameless son had his features and the markings of the tiger clan, but the black spots of his cheetah mother stained the white border of his growing mane.

Why had he wished his son with him on his last night on Third Earth? What had possessed him! All he had truly hoped was to involve himself as little as possible in his son's raising, as custom dictated, and his mind required.

Although he favors me, he belongs to his mother's clan, not mine. I will not name him as Cheetara wants. The little one belongs to her! he decided firmly.

Setting his elbows on the armrests, Tygra placed his head against his fists, and felt the full weight of his burdens. "Another son of mixed race; another offense to the clan. This time I will truly be made an outcast, and Siberan's stigma will touch another generation," he whispered.

The architect suppressed a shudder. How cold had his cousin Su'ti, the Chi'ris'rin of the red tiger clan, grown under the guidance of his uncle Trel, who still despised mystics. How could he explain the unexpected awakening of his own mystic abilities to those of his clan? Would he be safe in claiming sanctuary through Te'sara, his aunt, who was the leader of the mystics? Tir'shan had suggested that strategy. Perhaps the giant believed that Lion-o, under the influence of his own clan, would soon remove the protection that King Claudus had afforded him since the time of his father's death. Would his other aunt, Kalyn'ri, whom Talitha hoped would be a strong ally, support him before the clan despite her new role with the mystics?

An intake of breath that resulted in a cheerful gurgle diverted him suddenly from his worry. Tygra glanced down. His son had awakened. The cub met his gaze. "You can see! Have thirty suns passed so swiftly!" he remarked in astonishment.

The cub's eyes were a startling blue, the hues shifting madly. The Thundercat wiggled the fingers on his left hand. The tiny bundle of fur smiled widely as he followed the movement. Tygra reached for his son, keeping the blanket secured around him for warmth, but the cub succeeded in freeing his hands. He grabbed Tygra's incomplete ruff. "You favor the left like me," the architect heard himself comment. The cub wrinkled his nose in delight. "You find my voice soothing," he murmured. A tug of his ruff was the painful, but pleased, reply. The little one was amazingly strong. Tygra lamely fought a rising bubble of pride. He studied his son, and considered his destiny.

"Your mother seems to think you will become a historian, but maybe you will be more creative than that. Perhaps I should get you some blocks." The infant loosed his grip, and rewarded him with a gummy grin. "Very well then, you will become an architect," Tygra said, shaking his head at his own foolishness. He set the cub back in his cradle. "Let us pray that you will never be a mystic."

"Is that such an awful vocation," Talitha chided.

Tygra pulled his mate onto his lap. The folds of her yellow robe fell in neat layers over his thighs. The loose drape of the fabric across her torso allowed him a glimpse of the sweet curves of her breasts. Her scent intoxicated him. He recalled the depth of pleasure they had enjoyed in the morning dark, despite the distraction of holding back their roars out of consideration for the sleeping infant. He regretted that time would not permit a repeat experience. He commanded his ardor to subside, difficult though that was with his mate so close to his body.

Talitha tugged his ruff, but not in a playful manner. "You have not answered my question?" she said ruefully.

Tygra gently helped her to her feet, then stood beside her. He folded his arms, and locked away his feelings. "I wish that he may follow the road that leads to his heart's desire in this life," he stated flatly.

"It is a good wish, Tygra, but one seldom reached without compromise, or enduring choices made by others," Talitha countered.

A flash of anger left the chest where he stored his emotions. "Are mystics always so fatalistic!" he retorted.

"Our work can make us so," his mate replied.

The sadness that tainted her clear voice hurt. He tried to apologize, but the words would not come. He blinked back tears, his emotions refusing to stay hidden.

Talitha wrapped her arms about his waist. Silent love flowed from her, a soothing spell to dispense the torment of separation and doubt. His muscles suddenly grew weak. He allowed Talitha to direct him back onto the chair. She disappeared behind him. The press of her hands coaxed the stiff muscles of his neck to relax. Her attentions lulled him into a complacent state.

The suggestion that met his ears seemed remarkably reasonable. "You are the first to view your son's eyes. By our customs, you must name him, Tygra."

"No. That is for Cheetara...." he heard himself weakly protest.

"She has wanted you to do this from the beginning. Give her that gift before you leave."

Love extinguished resistance. "He was born on this world, not Thundera. Altair will be his name, for like the eagle, he must soar above all things in purity and clear vision."

Talitha folded herself back on his lap. He surrendered to her kisses, and the magic in her hands. Let Tir'shan wait, he thought as he lost himself in love.