Author's Note: A story that I have put on here, taken off, and heavily revised numerous times. Maybe this will be the beginning that shall stay as it is. Feedback would be exceedingly appreciated.

Down the Middle Path (c) Goddess Oni

Down the Middle Path

I am walking down this straying path,

Following my morals I continue forward.

Dirt and grime cling to my name;

The rain washes it away

Creatures ask me as I pass,

“Why are you going down that path?”

And I answer in a solemn voice

“I do not have a choice.”

Survival.

We crave it so that we kill it.

And I am no different in the decisions I make

But if I have to I will.

If I have to, my father will die

Whether it will be I who will do it.

Or someone else

For I am walking on a different path,

I am walking down the Middle path.

Part I: The Beginning

Chapter 1

He was delighted to see the fear in the otter’s eyes.

Despite the paw resting on his sword hilt, the otter stared in horror at him. Coty narrowed his eyes and grinned maniacally as he stared his prey down. A long string of drool dripped from his chin when he swept his tongue across his teeth, hesitating a moment to revel in the satisfaction of taking his revenge. Silently, he lunged for his throat—

Coty blinked himself out of his daydream and stared about him in a stupor. Shaking his head of the remnants of the image he realized he had stopped running entirely; with a rush of fear he lunged forward again on his forepaws and continued pounding at the sand beneath him. Make ground, make ground! You can’t let ‘em catch you. Run! He glared up into wondrous depths of the cloudless sky and cursed it for no shelter from the battering, crisping sun. Across the sparse landscape he could see a shimmering green line. Can it be? Trees?

He casually followed the progress of the gray wolf as she took to all four paws in an attempt to get away from him. With a gentle smile that did not reach his eyes, he holstered his dagger and dropped to his own forepaws. She was fast, but he was faster. He would catch her and when he did—

Again, he pulled himself from his imaginings with a violent shake of his head. No dreaming! You must get away. Revenge will be later. “Stop thinkin’ on it,” he mumbled to himself with hopes that the sound of his own voice might hold his mind within the real world. Aware yet again, he found the heat streamed from his flanks as he struggled to maintain his pace—which was hardly more than a gallop—but to his mind it he felt he was pushing his speed. Heat flared from his body, pain wracked his paws, and foam dripped from his mouth in spite of his determination to continue.

“I’ll get you, Rolboss! You will pay for my suffering!” There was a mighty “chunk!” as a sword dug into the locked door. With a gasp, Coty came to his senses again and his body weaved drunkenly. Still, his legs moved with mechanical steadiness. He fought to keep his eyes open.

Searing pain in his back. The guard struck them like a threatened snake. Blood seeped out of the old wounds as they broke anew. Heat. Splinters up his paws. The silver cheetah looked down and thought he saw a track of blood left by his pads. Revenge, hate, anger. It raced through him within his bloodstream. A leg muscle seized with a cramp, but he stumbled onward. They had dragged him by his hind legs. His splayed front claws left tracks as he dug them into the ground. Ache, pain, suffering. He clenched his eyes and laid back his ears, trying to shut out the screaming. A snake slid out of his way. The wolf threw back her head for a guttural laugh. Th-thump th-thump. The pound of his paws. He hissed when the young badger bumped him. His black-tipped tail twitched. “No, you will not hurt her!” The red haze seethed in front of his eyes as he grabbed the weasel, who turned to him with shocked eyes, but the whip was already coming down. She flinched.

“Aaaaaghk!” The foam in his mouth rose up to choke him. Coty hacked violently, unable to breath, and then the world swayed. His eyes rolled into his head, and then suddenly he was inhaling dirt as his thin and ragged body collapsed from the pressures mounting on it. Feeling the spittle leak out of his mouth, Coty tried to force his eyes open and his body to respond, but it was beyond his control; his limbs shuddered down and the muscles twitched in agonizing spasms from excessive use. His vision wavered once more as he desperately tried to keep it, but this time he could not escape the dreams.

Some empire Rolboss has, Markrin thought as he shaded his eyes with a black paw, staring across the shimmering Karasa desert. It’s only a part of his territory because no one else wants it. Sighing again, he tugged at the collar of his uniform for a little more breathing room. How he hated this heat.

“Why are we out here again?” Arden, a light brown mouse, grumbled as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“You know as well as I do. We are scouting the terrain and searching for spies. Rolboss cannot know we’re here!”

“Well, of course not, but the land—it’s rock hard and flatter than a whore’s chest! I’m not sure the Commander understands there’s nothing to see.”

“Attitude, soldier,” Markrin checked sharply and the mouse clamped his jaw shut, staring around uneasily. When he felt Arden’s temper had been reigned in, he said, “Not understanding why the commander wants the land scoured is the reason why you’re no more than a foot-soldier and he’s where he is.”

Arden narrowed his eyes at the insult, but did not speak. Good, he’s learning, Markrin thought. Before he could wonder if he was too harsh he followed up with an explanation, “The commander would like to know the land like he does the back of his paw. You’d be surprised what the land can hide, especially a desert. And it would be useful to know of any waterholes before he decides to march us across Karasa.”

Markrin smiled a little at the respectable silence behind him, and continued scuffling his paws further north. He turned his gaze back south at the line of forest barely visible on the horizon. It was hard to tell if it was there at all amidst the heat waves that marred his sight. He glanced at the sun, settled just past its noon peak and thought; we’ll need to be starting back soon. I needed to lecture Arden, but he’s right. This desert couldn’t hide a lizard. Sighing discontentedly he took a swig of the water in leather-skin bag and pushed forward.

In the desert it seemed time slowed and stretched to maximize discomfort. ‘Commander, I’m sorry to report nothing. We walked five miles north and a mile west. There was only baked earth and sand as far as the eye can see. No rock formations, underground caves, lizards, or anything remotely resembling a waterhole or well.’ Such a nice report. I’m sure it will go over well with the commander. The fox pinched his eyes shut and peeled back his lips into a horrible grimace. With his determination renewed, he was able to shrug off the greater part of his discomfort. His steps became easier and he started to leave Arden behind.

“Markrin, don’t go so fast!”

Markrin continued at his pace, heedless of his partner’s words, his eyes now ceaselessly sweeping the terrain. Arden faded from his mind and from behind as the mouse bent down to peer at the sand and dirt, as if it might yield its secrets. “Markrin, I found something!”

He wheeled around, but didn’t see Arden behind him. After a glance eastward he saw him several hundred feet away bending over a lump of something with a silver sheen. He sprinted over to it.

“What is it?” Markrin asked as he skidded to a halt, trying to make sense of the object.

“I think it’s a…cat.” Arden swayed back and forth as he squinted through the glare of the sun.

Markrin finally focused his mind on it and he froze. He could feel his heart slow and his blood drift sluggishly through his veins. Though the heat had not diminished, the air around him suddenly seemed to drop in temperature. A silver cheetah! It was the first he’d ever seen and he wasn’t so sure he was relieved to meet one. Myths and legends seem to surround the silver animals that were nonexistent in most of the West. He’d enjoyed the tales of the cats’ unnatural strength and physical grace, but they often ended with cat becoming undone by their signature ferocious tempers. He had scoffed at the stories, but now he could see there was no exaggeration and he just had to wonder how accurate those stories were. Its appearance did little to sooth Markrin’s nerves either. The fur was, on closer inspection, grimy, slick with sweat, and only covering half his body, which was also devoid of any clothing. His ribs and hip bones were severely visible beneath the sallow skin that was far from the healthy dark gray it should’ve been. Before it collapsed it managed to clamp its eyes shut as if only asleep, but his tongue lolled out between his teeth, swollen and dry.

“It doesn’t look alive, does it?”

Markrin numbly shook his head, and then reached a tentative paw to touch its chest. Rubbing his pad gently on the sparse fur there, he could feel the warmth of the skin and then, very faintly, the rhythm of a heart beat. “He’s still alive!”

“Really?” Arden’s eyes widened and then he, too, reached out to touch the creature as if he couldn’t quite believe it was material. Markrin slapped his paw away. He blinked and held his smarting paw in his other before he said, “What was that for?”

“Silver cheetahs are dangerous! We should just leave it to its fate.” Markrin stepped away from the body and wiped his paw pads on his breeches. I can’t believe I even touched it! We need to get out of here! He reached out to Arden and grabbed his paw, already tugging him along even as the mouse protested.

“That is cruel, Markrin! No creature, especially one so miserable looking, should have to die by the heat. Besides, don’t you think the commander might want to see it?”

This halted him.

What would the commander say if I told him we left a silver cheetah to die? Surely the commander had heard of the myths of the creatures’ violent legacies, where they often seemed to leave nothing but destruction. He turned to look back at the silver cheetah and, putting aside his well-founded prejudice, took in the cat from an empirical viewpoint. His nose is pointing southwest to our camps. If he hadn’t collapsed he would’ve wound up there. If he was going straight southwest then he would’ve had to come from the northeast. That’s where Rolboss’ castle is supposed to be! And then it clicked. He could not possibly leave this creature to die, or at least he had to try to save it. Wrestling with his fears, he took his waterskin and dumped half of it all over the animal, and slowly rubbed the moisture into his skin.

“What—“

“We’re going to save him.” Markrin hesitated a moment after his eyes fastened on the tongue, but then he grabbed the cat’s jaws and carefully placed the tongue back. He tensely focused onto the eyelids of the silver cheetahs, just waiting for them to snap open and for him to be suddenly short a few digits, but it never did. Despite the cat’s unconsciousness he pulled his claws out hastily and then started pouring the rest of his water down its throat. From his narrow view of it, he saw the tongue move slightly, but wasn’t sure if that was the water being soaked in or the cat moving it. He crouched there for a moment, waiting for it to wake up and put him out of his misery before he finally placed his arms around its chest, and said, “Arden, grab his back legs. We have to get him back to camp.”

“Maybe I should go get a stretcher.”

“No! He could die between now and then. Hell, night will probably have set in by the time you come back! We must carry him now.” Arden sighed heavily and then nodded before he bent down and picked up the cat’s legs. Aside from a wolf, it was quite possibly the biggest sentient creature they had ever seen.

“My back is going to be hurting tomorrow.” Arden groaned, trying to carefully grip his half of the awkward bundle.

“It could be worse. He could be healthy. Just think, with food he’d probably weigh three times what he does now.” Arden only stared at him, knowing that it might be true but still unable to comprehend it. “Ready?” Glancing at the merciless sun once, Markrin squeezed his eyes shut to get the glare out and pray that they’d make it back before the monster could awaken.