Evening Dawn

The confession unsettled his heart.

"I will break my promise to you, Panthro. I am going to give myself to the sea. Because of you, my heart is not my own, and so, I am no longer strong. I have eagerly sought the Silence when danger has threatened. For this, the king has disgraced me by relieving me of my patrol. Yet Lion-o still values my skills. He has ordered me to protect a merchant's caravan. In a few suns, we travel north to Tabbia. But when my mission ends, I end. Then, we will finally be together again, although you may not want a jan'nirri who has failed to take revenge upon the mountain tigers." The determined voice that had risen from the crystal tree faded on a cool breeze.

Not if I can prevent it, dear Chand'ra, there must be a way to help you, Panthro snarled at the spontaneous image of his lover that had formed in the faceted leaves. He restlessly circled and cursed the tree, the long sleeves of his maroon robe flapping like the wings of an irritated bird. The artifact had once again displayed on its own whim the suffering his death had caused.

What Chand'ra did not know was that he had not completed his journey beyond the Silence, and there was no way to warn her. Cenatua had sundered the dream road. Without the path of dreams, he could not get a message to his lover. Only the past traveled easily between the world of the living and the dead.

At least he was not alone in the Matrix of History. Cheetara and the stranger from another dimension who wore Tygra's face were also bound to the artifact. Maybe they will have an idea of what to do? Panthro thought, but doubt endured. From his first moments within the strange realm between worlds, he knew that Cenatua had clouded the minds of his companions. "You never warned me of danger, Cheetara," he reflected. "That alone told me all I needed to know."

An odd blue sphere that orbited the tree bathed him in an eerie light with each pass. He studied the false starry sky above him with apprehension. "Why has Cenatua not yet taken my thoughts from me?"

Another breeze arose. The tree did not show a new image, but he sensed someone watched. "Come out of hiding, coward! And fight!" he yelled, his anger erupting from his impotence. The leaves rustled like tinkling glass.

A sphere of white light formed on the plain. Panthro called his nunchaku into being, although he doubted whether anything he created in this strange dimension could protect him. Cenatua stepped out from the brilliance, her black mane and stripes pulsing with crackling, iridescent energy. In her emerald robes she was a malefic blossom of beauty and power. Let her engage me, and she will fall, the grey panther decided, standing his ground.

The towering white tigress drifted toward him. Her slippered feet delicately touched the ground when she halted before him. Three small, red balls of light circled her brow like tiny rogue planets. Her expressive brown eyes regarded him as coolly as a god considering the insignificance of an insect. Somewhere behind him footfalls sounded. Cheetara and her companion quickly flanked him. A formidable figure in a yellow o'ba'ti, the frowning cheetah raised the staff that she held in defiance. The warrior, who he preferred to address as Tygra'a, glowered. He aimed his long bow, his powerful muscles flexing as he pulled back on the string, arrow nocked. With his black o'ba'ti slit to his thigh for maximum movement, the "other Tygra" resembled a chaotic war god, ready to leap half-naked into battle with his cheetah mate. Now it gets interesting, Panthro decided, fortified by the support.

The panther snarled, "What mischief are you up to, Tir'shan's daughter? Haven't you done enough to these two?"

Her white face had the serenity of a drifting cloud. Striking with the agility of a serpent, she seized the three glittering orbs. She flung them skyward shouting, "This!"

The world exploded.

*****

Panthro shivered in the darkness. He reclined on something hard and cold, wondering what it could be. Perplexed, he opened his eyes, seeking an answer. He found himself in a vaulted chamber that was open to the night sky. A crystal tree glowed as if consumed by an auroral storm. His companions stood before the artifact.

He took a deep breath. The air was filled with the smoky aroma of the burning torches that adorned the walls. The warrior rose slowly, unsure of what had just happened. What a strange dream this is. I wonder who it belongs too: Cheetara or Tygra'a.

His pointed ears twitched, picking up new sounds. Are others are coming, he mused. From a passageway, a tigress dressed in the robes of an historian entered the chamber, a tall desert cat at her side. His scarlet robe accentuated the rich splendor of his light fur, which sparkled in the radiance that flooded the room. A rose pin kept his cloak in place. The pair halted, transfixed by the sight before them.

It took a moment for Panthro to put names to the two faces. "I have not seen them for awhile, but I have been away on patrol. Makani and Dah'ri," Panthro said softly to himself. "But why are they...." The revelation when it came ascended on his shout. "All the gods of Thundera! I am alive!"

Cheetara turned to face him. "So are we, Panthro," she answered, her golden eyes wide with disbelief. "This is the Hall of History."

The tree vibrated, the leaves creating another weird symphony. The light diminished, but did not disappear. A figure emerged from the artifact. "Cenatua!" Panthro exclaimed.

"What have you done!" Cheetara howled. Tygra'a jumped in front of the anguished cheetah, his claws ready to rend, and his growls echoing in the chamber. Although their clothing had surprisingly made the transition with them from death to life, their weapons had not.

The Guardian waved her hand. The horror on Tygra'a's face was soon matched by all. Everyone remained silently rooted in their place.

Cenatua regarded Makani. "The crystal retains your history without the slavery you imposed on Cheetara. My own blood purifies and maintains it now," she said. "When the Key is ready, ancients secrets will be revealed through him."

The Guardian continued calmly, "You who have dwelt within this crystal are freed and restored." She grinned with the intensity of a predator that had subdued its prey. "Although perhaps not perfectly. After all, I am not a god."

Cenatua clapped her hands. The silence and paralysis of the company ended with roars of protest and movement forward. "Enjoy your lives," she said with laughter as she turned into a mist before they could reach her.

The echoes dissipated. The warmth emanating from the crystal did little to comfort the distraught company.

"That viper!" Makani finally exclaimed, through gritted teeth.

"She has freed us," Tygra'a added softly. "That can only be for the good." The Master Historian glared at him without forgiveness for his remark.

Dah'ri stared at the spot where Cenatua had stood. "If she has the power of life over death, what other natural law can she violate?"

Cheetara sank to her knees, and began to weep, but whether in sorrow or joy, Panthro could not discern. Only the rapid beating of his heart now remained, and it sounded but one word repeatedly: Chand'ra!

Panthro fled the chamber, leaving the cheetah to the care of the others.

*****

Due to the lateness of the hour, the stone streets of Lion-o's city were empty. The panther had not run very far when it had occurred to him that he simply could not barge unescorted into the garrison that Cats' Lair had become. He was lucky that he had come as far as he had without attracting attention to himself. Panthro ducked into an alleyway between shops in an area of the city reserved for merchants. There was only one person he could trust to help him. "Tygra," he growled to himself. "He will get me in to see Chand'ra." He hesitated. But what of Marcus? What if he sees me tonight? Panthro noted the clouds that had obscured the stars, and considered the truth that Tygra had cleverly hidden from his son. Only you could disguise death. You told him that I was away on a river journey.

He reluctantly decided, The cubs must be asleep. We can leave that reunion for tomorrow. Stripes will have to help me with Chand'ra first. He always knows what to do.

Except when he doesn't, his conscience retorted.

Panthro rubbed his chin nervously. I am sorry Tygra for bringing you more pain, but you are my only ally.

He continued his journey before he could change his mind.

*****

Panthro caught the sound as he rounded a building, and entered an open space. The music of the flute was not mournful, but apprehensive. The flickering torch anchored on a pole illuminated the red tiger lord dressed in the blue robes of a mystic. Tygra stood by the hedge that surrounded his cottage, and played with a mastery the panther had not anticipated. Would spring never come? That was the theme that he wove among the hot and cold notes that battled for supremacy. Perhaps winter had won after all, Panthro thought. Maybe I am still dead, and this is all an evil Guardian dream.

Catching sight of him, the tiger ceased playing. He shook his head from side to side in denial, his dark amber eyes widened by amazement.

"Tygra, it is me, truly," Panthro said cautiously as he approached.

The architect answered, "Although the rules of science and nature would predict otherwise." The tiger rushed to embrace him before he could stop him. "Welcome back, Ta'k'tin. By all the gods of Thundera, and the blood of my ancestors--" The younger Thunderan practically collapsed into his arms.

He patiently let the tiger hang onto him until he could no longer blot out the internal screams that demanded that he be taken immediately to Chand'ra. Panthro said, "Tygra, gather your courage, for I need your help."

Tygra stepped back unsteadily. He intently searched his face. Panthro had no notion of what the architect hoped to find etched on his visage. "Have I turned a different color? Do I now have stripes?" he asked, hoping to break the tension between them.

His gentle teasing did nothing to ease the furrows of Tygra's brow. Instead, the architect gestured toward his cottage as if making a supreme effort to move an arm burdened by fatigue. "She awaits you, Panthro," he whispered. "Treat her well, for she has endured much since your passing."

"How did you--"

"Tomorrow, not tonight," the architect interrupted, slipping his flute into the pocket of his robe. Tygra walked past the warrior without glancing back, and disappeared into the shadows.

*****

Panthro did not remember opening the door to the cottage. His gaze swept over the snow leopard before him. A loose night gown could not conceal the fact that she was lean and deadly beneath its soft, orange folds. How did you ever convince yourself that you were weak, Chand'ra, he thought. Before he could speak, the jan'nirri launched herself forward with the precision of an arrow set on its target.

He was on his back, a knife at his throat. "What sorcery is this!" Chand'ra roared. "Yield, evil one!"

That she spoke was her mistake. It gave him enough time to use the gown and his strength to his advantage.

In a moment, he had the clothing pulled over her head. He flipped her onto her back, and fought to pin her to the stone floor. Desperately trying to avoid her flailing legs, he shouted, "And Tygra thought you needed coddling! Names of all the gods, it really is me, Chand'ra!" He ripped the gown to reveal her face, her sage eyes etched with fury. He dropped his full weight upon her, then kissed her. The jan'nirri quieted under his touch.

To quickly for his tastes, Panthro released her, aware that his desire had made itself known. Chand'ra sat up, and stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. The knife fell from her hand. He gently ran his fingers through her grey-white mane, giving care to each black rosette patterning it. "What did Tygra tell you?"

"The truth," she whispered in awe. "But I never believed you would return from the Silence no matter what the architect said. I suspected sorcery, so I humored him, and waited here for the Guardian's treachery to be revealed."

"Jan'nirri, first and always" he said with affection, then laughed deeply. It gave her the opening she required to push him back onto his back. She showered him with kisses and his name.

Chand'ra wasted little time in getting him out of his clothing. "You rent my garment, Thundercat, now I will do the same to you," she purred, tearing his robe open with her sharp claws.

It was as she preferred it: quick and forceful, a struggle between two equals that left his back bleeding, and his vitality spent after several lusty rounds.

"Enough, Chand'ra. I have only just returned from the Silence. I surrender!" he said breathlessly. The snow leopard offered no retort. Still part of him, she rested against his broad chest, and fell deeply asleep.

If only we had made it to the carpet, Panthro thought ruefully, resigned to his uncomfortable position on the floor.

*****

Drinking a steaming cup of Berbil tea, Panthro sat by the hearth, warming his bare feet. He stared at his hands, surprised by their youthful appearance and the fact that the joints of his fingers no longer hurt. He kept his gaze away from the mantle, and the unsettling urn that sat on its surface. He hoped that Tygra would not mind that he had donned one of his many fine robes. He prayed that his broader form would not split the shoulder seams, and that blood drawn during the night would not stain the fabric. Maybe I could get him to give me some of that mystic magic. My back and buttocks still ache, he thought with practicality.

A sound disrupted his musings. He listened carefully. The noise did not come from the upper level where Chand'ra slept peacefully in Tygra's wide bed since dawn. No, he thought, outside.

The panther stood stiffly. He walked to the front door, and threw it open. A cry of joy flew up to meet him as Marcus charged him. "Ta'sa'ba!" the panther cub shouted. "Home!"

The warrior embraced his son, and hoisted him up onto his left shoulder, an action that caused much glee on the cub's part. "Have you been good for Ta'sa'ba Tygra?"

Marcus nodded enthusiastically, the strands of his unruly blond mane flying about his head so that the black spots danced.

He noted that the little panther and his twin were already outgrowing their tunics and trousers. It was with regret that he realized that time had not stopped during his absence, a fact that he had rarely considered when he had been on patrol. That will have to change, he thought with guilt, for my benefit and Tygra's. He smiled at his friend, who appeared uncharacteristically sullen on a fine morning that promised abundant sunshine. "What are you feeding these two?" he cheerfully asked Tygra, who stood by Altair, his son.

"They would say, 'Not enough, Ta'sa'ba!' if given the choice," he replied glumly. "As the Berbils would say, 'They are growing like weeds'."

Altair regarded him with suspicion. He clutched Tygra's robe fearfully. His father reached down, and lifted him up. Safe in his father's arms, the tiger cub visibly relaxed, a slight smile forming on his face.

Tygra's concocted story of his river journey might have fooled Marcus, but probably had not deceived Altair. That one is an old soul, Panthro decided. When the time came for the tiger cub to face his destiny, he prayed that he would not falter.

Marcus suddenly chirped, "We met Ra'sa'ba from the tree! Pretty!"

"Altair remembered Cheetara," Tygra said coolly. "Marcus did not, so he is still excited about it."

"That's--"

"Incredible," Tygra interrupted, his harsh tone ending any further discussion about his son's eidetic memory. Altair tensed reacting to his father's hostility, his dark green eyes blinking as if absorbing an unanticipated blow.

Sensitive, just like his father, Panthro mused. He considered whether to pose a more difficult question to target the source of the tiger's foul mood. He decided to press forward despite Altair's reaction because the conversation was inevitable, and the knowledge necessary. "Did you meet--"

"No," Tygra snapped, and Altair flinched. The architect shrugged uncomfortably, ignoring his son's small gasp. "I am not ready to be introduced to my other self quite yet, and there was no need to confuse the cubs. We only saw Cheetara."

Sorry Altair, one more question to go, Panthro apologized silently. "Does Lion-o know what has happened?"

"Yes. I informed the King and his advisors last night," Tygra responded more calmly.

There is only one person that Lion-o trusts, and will until the day the Silence comes for him, my friend. Just like me. The populace will soon know what has transpired, for there is no keeping these events secret, especially with a Guardian who has relinquished anonymity by her actions. Panthro continued in the only way that he could, "So what comes next, Stripes?"

"Play!" Marcus crowed, his sea green eyes brimming with joy.

The word contained magic for it made Tygra smile.

Questions and consequences can wait. All that truly ever matters is the moment, Panthro decided, as his new life beckoned.