Seashell Horizon

"Le'an'der," the lioness purred, "it has been a good life."

The warrior stroked his mate's mane, a silken coil the color of fine wheat. On the grassy rise where they sat, breezes from the sea caressed them, while the setting summer sun held them in its fiery embrace. Soon, the night would descend, and leave only one to welcome a new dawn.

"We have more to accomplish in our lives, Li'san'a," Le'an'der chided gently, knowing she appreciated the lie. If only he were a mystic, he could take her pain.

The lioness chuckled lightly, a sound as pleasing as a tinkling bell. Their nights of swords and veils had never lessened over the long seasons of life that they had shared. "That is why we have given Thundera seven handsome sons and one beautiful daughter, my lord," she said, well practiced in deciphering his thoughts by his expression.

Long ago, they had first joined beneath the purple trees in her father's garden, the delightful perfume of abundant white blossoms intoxicating. If he could only relive that one day, he would sacrifice everything that had followed in his life.

He lifted Li'san'a's chin. Her pale yellow eyes darkened with sad expectation. "Le'an'der," she murmured, drifting into eternity.

*****

Lion-o bolted up in bed with a shout. The sound of insistent banging on his bedroom door only added to the confusion that drenched his sleepy brain. What in the seven hells! he thought with alarm, feeling strangely uncomfortable.

"Are you well, my lord Lion-o?"

The recognition that the deep, inquiring voice belonged to Lord Lir focused his thoughts. It was just a strange dream, Lion-o thought. He glanced at his hands, and found to his surprise that they were shaking. Ridiculous! he thought. I am no longer a cub to be frightened of dreams.

He shouted at the door. "I am well, tsu'zin! No need for concern." He hoped his statement had appeased his daunting cousin who watched his every move as if searching for weakness.

"Very well, my lord, " the unseen Lir acceded with a throaty growl. "Until midday, then. We must go over the plans for our clan feast." Sturdy footfalls followed by the whispers of palace guards echoed down the corridor beyond the door until quiet returned to his chamber once more.

I am sick of feasts, Lion-o thought, concerned that the pageantry of the crown would cause him to grow fat. I wish that Mumm-Ra would show his ugly face so that we could see some action! He rubbed his chin, then grinned. Some sword practice with the guards will improve my mood, and loosen the tension I feel. And Snarf should be here shortly with breakfast. Fuel to fire me up is always welcome. His stomach growled in hungry agreement. He flung back the bed covers, and gasped. "By all the gods of Thundera!"

*****

Hidden under a light cape and cowl, Lion-o cautiously maneuvered down the alleyways of his city. Out of the need to maintain some measure of privacy, he had become adept at sneaking out of his palace by studying the movements of others, and learning the rhythms of the household.

He rounded a corner, relieved to find that he had reached his destination. He eschewed custom, and crossed the hedge without ringing the entry bell. He approached the neat cottage beyond, then rapped nervously on its sturdy door.

A gruff voice answered, "One moment. One moment." A vexed Tygra appeared. "Yes?" Before the young king could speak, the architect blurted, "Lion-o! Forgive my rudeness."

"Inside!" the lion snapped, pushing the tiger back into the cottage with one hand, while lowering his cowl with the other.

Tygra's amber eyes widened with astonishment. He dropped to one knee, his head bowed in apology.

"In Jaga's name, get up! This is no time for formality!"

The architect raised his head. "Has Mumm-Ra finally returned?" he asked fearfully.

"Is your family here?" Lion-o grumbled.

Tygra rose, then folded his arms, a gesture that always signaled suspicion. "They are at the Halls of Healing, my lord. I expect to meet them there later this morning. That is why I am garbed as a mystic today. I am woefully behind in my training."

"We are alone then! Thank the gods!" Lion-o exclaimed as he lowered himself gingerly on a supremely ugly chair by the hearth. His voluminous brown robe loosely bound with a green silken sash was the only non-constricting garment he owned.

"Are you hurt, my lord?" Tygra inquired as he sat on the other chair placed near the fire.

"I am...." Too embarrassed by his predicament, Lion-o fell silent.

"Has Lir offended you?" the architect remarked leaning forward on his chair.

"No."

"Is there a problem with the clan feast? Are your kin upset that you have delayed the marking of your eighteenth season until the summer solstice? Getting lords to agree on such matters can be a difficult--"

"No!" Lion-o interrupted sharply.

Tygra's eyes narrowed with consternation. "I cannot help you if you do not--"

"I am too young for this!"

Tygra reared back on his chair. "Names of all the Gods! I was afraid it would come too soon!"

"What am I to do, Tygra!" Lion-o pleaded. His dreams had recently tantalized him with possibilities, but his fear had kept him in denial.

To his credit, Tygra did not laugh at his distress. "There is only one action you can take, Lion-o," he said seriously. "But before anything can happen, you must tell Lir."

"Never!" Lion-o howled, as he sprang to his feet. "You are the head of the Thundercat Council. You must choose for me." He paced about the room, the disruption between his legs aching.

Tygra rested his left elbow on the armrest, and set his chin upon his hand. "I am afraid those days are long gone, Lion-o," the architect said wistfully. "Lir led the people in your absence. Clan customs aside, for that reason alone he has earned the right to choose for you."

"But I do not wish for him to act for me on this matter! You are more father, brother and uncle to me than he will ever be."

"Such compromises come with the crown, Lion-o," Tygra added sympathetically. The architect waved his right hand languidly. "I can tell you that mystic potions will do little to address your discomfort, so you must press forward."

Lion-o halted. He stared at his large and powerful hands, and wondered if they belonged to another person. He could no longer recall how small they had appeared in his last days as a kitten. On Third Earth, time always seemed to rush by, and now true adulthood had hijacked his body.

The young lion sat back down, scrutinizing the fire that seemed too cheery. He had dismissed many remarks in recent months about his gains in height and weight from those in his court, for the changes he had experienced were not unusual by lion standards. In a few suns he would reach 18. Biology should have given him at least 3 more Thunderan seasons before the arrival of awakening. It was because of a specific fear, and what it could portend, that I ignored it all, he decided grimly. But now I need to know the truth, for myself and my people.

"Is this premature development the result of my time in a failed suspension capsule? Lion-o asked resolutely. "Will my life be shortened?"

Tygra shook his head from side to side. "No, Lion-o, that fear is groundless. My reports show that other males and females have entered true adulthood early. I believe it is a collective response to the short Third Earth year. According to mystic determination, we are aging at the rate we normally do, but Felinari fertility has indeed increased."

"But we were not effected before the other Thunderans arrived. What changed?"

"Nothing may have changed, Lion-o. Talitha's unexpected pregnancies, and Cheetara's return to fertility after a long delay, may have heralded the deviation, but we had no reference point because our group was small. Suffice it to say, once the others arrived, the population reacted with greater speed than anyone anticipated."

The architect glanced at the window near the front door. Muffled footsteps heralded the approach of a visitor. "Send whoever it is away, Tygra!" Lion-o hissed.

Before the architect could respond, the door flew open. Black-maned Lir, his brown eyes narrowed with rage, filled the entrance. "My Lord Lion-o!" he said in strained greeting. "We wondered where you went!"

Tygra leapt up from his seat. "Has all manner of courtesy fled the court!" he shouted at the mailed warrior, quickly positioning himself between Lion-o and Lir. "Outfitted for war, you enter a house that normally has females and cubs within!" Tygra took a deep breath, obviously ready to continue his fierce scolding.

I won't allow him to come to harm on my account! Lion-o decided. The king rose smoothly from his chair despite his physical impairment. He placed his right hand on Tygra's shoulder in support. "Thank you, Tygra for holding the actions of the lion clan to account." He stared at Lir, and prayed that the older Thunderan would back down.

Lir bowed. "Forgive the intrusion, Lord Tygra. Our king--"

"Managed to elude you and the palace guards, a matter you should remedy," Tygra sniped, as Lir's hands clenched. Lion-o winced from the rebuke tangentially aimed at him. The architect gave a low growl, indicating that he would not be party to anymore posturing. He gestured forcibly toward the chairs. "Be seated, both of you."

"As you wish," Lir agreed reluctantly.

Lion-o sat down first to diffuse the displeasure of his elders. You usually have the right perspective on difficult situations, Tygra, he thought with admiration. May Jaga guide you now in helping me.

"I wish to know what has driven the young lord to the house of a mystic," Lir spat with derision as he sat down on Tygra's chair.

"Our welfare!" Lion-o shot back with equal vehemence. "Mind your place, tsu'zin."

Lir glowered, but remained silent; Tygra sighed, and turned away.

The architect retrieved a jug and three tall mugs from a cabinet. He passed a mug to each of his guests. He reserved the chipped one for himself, and placed it on a side stand next to Lion-o's chair. He poured frothy beer into all three vessels, before setting the jug back on the stand.

Tygra raised his mug. "To Claudus!" he announced.

"My father," Lion-o responded.

"To Jaga!" Tygra continued.

"Who guided us even in death," Lion-o added.

"To Lir!" Tygra said, and took a drink.

"Who kept the people safe," Lion-o responded, only sipping the potent brew which he knew had flattened many an unprepared Thunderan. He set the vessel down on the stand.

Lir raised his mug slowly. "To all who have served the people," he conceded in a calmer tone. The lion lord clearly downed the entire contents of his mug without taking a second breath, besting the other two.

"Lion-o has reached Awakening, my Lord Lir," Tygra said without rancor.

Thank you, my loyal friend, for taking my burden from me, Lion-o thought with relief.

Lir quietly considered the fire for many minutes. The morning light which streamed through the windows brightened or darkened the room depending on passing clouds. Innumerable emotions patterned his long face. "You were right, architect," he admitted finally.

Tygra leaned against the mantle, staring into the mug he still held, like a seeress seeking a glimpse of the future, and offered a slight nod of agreement.

"What should I do, Lir?" Lion-o asked, the question finally coming easily with Tygra by his side.

A faint smile touched his cousin's thin lips. "Tygra knows you far better than I ever will because of all that you have endured on this world. He can best chose for you, Lion-o." He pointed his empty mug at the tiger. "That is, if you are willing, Chi'ris'rin," he added with a hint of sarcasm.

"Tygra?" Lion-o asked hopefully.

The tiger finished the rest of his beer, then set his mug on the mantle. "Cheetara has always been ready for this day."

*****

The main passage in the house where the historians' dwelt was long and bare. The descent of dusk and the flickering of the wall torches made the young king feel as if he were going to an execution rather than his first joining. Lion-o glanced at Tygra, who walked calmly beside him. What filled your mind when you once trod this path? he wondered.

They stopped before a wooden door inlaid with a mother-of-pearl spiral. "Are your prepared, Lion-o?" Tygra asked.

No! Lion-o screamed to himself, but nodded in affirmation to the question.

Tygra titled his head slightly as if reading his unhappiness. "Taija was my first Lion-o. I was blessed because she had feelings for me, and I for her. All will be well, for Cheetara cares for you."

"But not as a lover!" he snarled, shocking himself with his vehemence. "Your 'twin' has claimed that place."

"Would you prefer some random choice by your cousin? If so, that could be arranged," Tygra replied, with a hint of annoyance at the reference to the Thunderan tiger from another dimension.

Cheetara had known him too well, that was the problem. He had been a foolish youth often enough. Perhaps a stranger would have been better, Lion-o thought.

Tygra pointed to the door. "It is your choice, my lord. But Panthro, Cheetara and I always thought this the best arrangement for you, and your cousin has shown wisdom in agreeing with us."

The grey warrior was enjoying a respite from all his strange trials in Tabbia with the female he loved. I wish Panthro were here, the lion thought with regret, but his mood quickly changed. He would have teased me all the way, so maybe it is better that he is not with us. He regarded Tygra. You never made it to your family, my friend. You chose to stay by my side. Your service to me has often hindered your life, he thought with guilt.

Lion-o steeled himself. All I have to do is announce myself. I am the Lord of All Thunderans, after all. I can do this. Before he could change his mind, he rapped the door three times, and wondered whether the pounding of his heart could be heard over his knocking.

The portal opened. Barefooted Cheetara wore only a yellow silk o'ba'ti. She looked at Tygra, not at him, and said, "We are honored that you trust us."

Heat rushed to his face in jealousy. What about me! Lion-o fumed internally. It is my decision too!

Cheetara shifted her attention to him, sensing his emotions. She had sacrificed for his people, and thus, for him. Her golden eyes held her suffering, a mark of her stolen youth. His fears dissolved, his heart opening as scenes of what they had experienced as Thundercats suddenly filled his mind. No one is more appropriate to give me the gift of first joining than this loyal and brave female, he decided.

Tygra had walked away while he was enmeshed in thought, and had disappeared down a passageway. The cheetah walked back into her chamber. No words were expected of him, only actions. Lion-o surrendered.

*****

Fragrance and mystery; a room richly adorned in red and gold appointments; heavy draperies shielding the remnants of the day; flickering candles casting a joyful glow to which the shadows danced; his senses flared and absorbed it all as he lay on a huge, wooden bed set upon an elaborate rug woven with images of birds and fruit.

Cheetara silently slipped off his suede boots. The silk of her o'ba'ti pooled around his feet as she straddled his legs. She deftly untied the slash which had kept his robe closed, and revealed his readiness for the journey. Leaning over him, she whispered into his ear, but the words had no meaning, for the blood pumping in his veins blocked his understanding. She kissed him.

Everything became a blur of twisting bodies and fabric. He crossed her inviting threshold with surprising ease. Cheetara clung to him as if struggling against a great, crashing wave. His voice remained locked in his throat, his bucking body reaching for the key to free it.

For a moment, he ceased to be, drifting in a lightness he could not explain. Their roars of pleasure hurled him back into a new life.

*****

A stray sunbeam made it past the draperies. It was an oddly pleasing thing to face the dawn with a sleeping female by his side. He thought with affection, You bested me, Cheetara, for I drifted off to sleep first. But his heart ached with clarity. Your place is with another, not me. He tenderly brushed back a lock of her black-spotted golden mane, and delicately kissed her cheek. "Thank you," he murmured, the only words he had spoken to her since he had entered her chamber.

Getting out of bed, he scanned the room for his scattered clothes. Finding them, he quickly dressed. He caught his reflection in a wall mirror. Despite the dim light, he examined his countenance, and wondered why he looked no different than the day before.

*****

Only merchants preparing for the business of the day appeared so early on the streets of his city. Cowled once more, Lion-o wended his way along the spacious boulevards, his long cape trailing behind him like the wings of a great bird. His stomach rumbled, but shop keepers would not serve food for some time. Breakfast at the palace was not an option, for he wished to be alone for awhile longer to have time to think. The traditional celebration after awakening was a day of drinking with one's male kin, an exercise in which he had no desire to participate.

Perhaps, by using the brilliant excuse of better weather, I could convince Lir to put off all feasts and commemorations until my delayed birthday. A wide grin erupted upon his face. There will be many distractions then. If Briz'bazim wills his good luck to me, the entire city will ignore me as the people pursue their summer pleasures. He snapped his fingers. Good plan, Lion-o, he mused. He tapped his chest lightly. I, the Lord of All Thunderans proclaim it!

Whistling a sprightly tune, he moved on. It became harder to keep to the melody over angry words that suddenly emanated from behind a tall fence made of large timber planks.

"One thousand times, have I told you, Maiara. You must nest the bowls for maximum efficiency in firing, and put sand between each one. Stupid youth, will you never learn!"

Curious, Lion-o peaked through the slightly open door in the fence. The yard behind the two story cottage was dry and dusty. A lean lioness, dressed in a patched tunic and trousers, carefully positioned fragile sun-dried pots in a domed kiln for firing. She ignored the tirade of a lioness, who paused in her insults only long enough to take a drink from an small brown bottle. The robed middle-aged female leaned on a wooden cane. Whether she needed the device for physical support because of an ailment or drunkenness was uncertain.

Finished with loading the bowls, Maiara adjusted the ragged black ribbon that held back her abundant white blonde mane. She surveyed a table that held a collection of pitchers. She grabbed one too swiftly, causing the handle to break. The older female howled in disgust, and raised her cane.

"Stop!" Lion-o shouted as he bounded into the yard, fearful that the young female would take a blow.

The elder whirled about, her auburn-grey mane bristling. "Who are you to command me, young one! Perhaps you would prefer to take her punishment!" She lurched forward ready for battle.

"Enough of this Loreta!" Maiara exclaimed. With quick, graceful moves, she intercepted the maddened female. She wrenched the cane from her hand, and tossed it toward the building.

The blow when it came caught Maiara full in the face, and broke her hold on Loreta. "Ingrate!" the elder howled, raising the bottle she still held.

Lion-o moved forward. He grabbed her wrist, then squeezed. The bottle dropped to the ground, but did not break. The spilt water made a tiny puddle. The elder whipped her free hand around, but suddenly found it equally caught in Lion-o's strong grip. As she struggled in his hold, the cowl dropped back from the young king's head.

"Names of all the gods!" Maiara shouted, her saffron eyes brimming with tears. "Forgive us, my Lord Lion-o."

"You require no forgiveness, Maiara," he answered, dodging the kicks of the agitated female he had secured.

Loreta spat at his boots. "Where were you when Thundera needed you!" she shrieked in a voice warped with despair.

Shocked, Lion-o released her. "I was but a kitten then," he answered.

Loreta stepped back from him. Her dark amber eyes narrowed. "The last son of Claudus?" she whispered in confusion, then fainted.

*****

"It is not much, my lord," Maiara said ruefully as she placed a serving dish before Lion-o.

"Thank you for your kindness," Lion-o remarked courteously. He eyed the meager offering of dried meat and bread, and wondered whether it would be worse to accept or refuse the breakfast provided. He glanced at the staircase that led to the upper level of the cottage. "Will she be well?" he asked.

Maiara shrugged. "Loreta's mind has deteriorated further since we left the world of the Four-Forms."

"What about mystics? Can't they help her?"

"Their treatments alleviate her suffering only for a time."

Her unflinching gaze made him uncomfortable, so he looked about the cozy room instead. Up on a high shelf was an object that took his breath way. "Name of the gods! Is that from Thundera?" he asked, pointing at the large indigo conch.

A fleeting smile flickered across her face. "I always loved the Western Sea. That seashell is the last one from my collection."

He had dwelt only in the King's City on Thundera. He had seen the distant lands beyond those towering walls only in the great tomes of his tutors. "Where are the others?" he asked, intrigued by the remnant of sea life from their lost home.

She looked away, and he instantly realized what had befallen her treasures.

"I am sure she did not mean to destroy them. I'm sorry," he said, and touched her hand gently.

Dressed in a white o'ba'ti, Maiara stood at the edge of a sea. Her mane tossed gently by the breeze, she raised the indigo seashell to her lips and blew. Lion-o quickly pulled back his hand, astounded by the vision.

The lioness gasped at the discharge of static. She rubbed her hand. "The air is still too dry, even for spring," she commented absently.

She did not see! Before he could draw any conclusions, the pressure between his thighs unexpectedly exerted itself once more. Not now! he complained to himself. He ran his hand nervously through his thick red mane in frustration.

"My lord, have I given offense?"

Lion-o stood, grateful once again for the generously cut robe he wore. "Forgive me, but I must be going. There is a meeting I must attend," he lied.

Misreading his response, Maiara admitted, "With the change of season, I know the hunting will be better soon."

He had insulted her hospitality. She alone had probably provided for herself and her demented companion. I will see to your needs, Maiara. But for now I need to calm myself! he thought with agitation.

Lion-o pointed to the conch. "Next time I visit, will you permit me to hold it? I never saw the Western Sea."

The lioness nodded politely, but from the slight downturn of her mouth, he knew that she did not believe him, and that hurt the most. With a heart grown heavy, Lion-o left her presence.

*****

Lion-o marveled at growing crowd of people sauntering down the streets of his city, but the happy banter of bartering balkins and berbils did not banish his foul mood. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of orange fur and mystic blue robes. The architect of Cats' Lair stood by a fountain, and seeing him, waved. No matter his many obligations, the tiger would guide him until the day the silence came for him, and in this, Jaga had indeed chosen wisely. His melancholy lifted.

A fine spring morning merits a break from duties and worries. Sniffing his sleeve, Lion-o also thought, But a needed bath takes precedence. A good swim in the lake near the Berbil village ought to suffice.

He returned his councillor's greeting with a smile. As he walked toward him, Lion-o wondered if he could convince Tygra to forego his studies for one more day.