The Exiles

by Sven Grams

  Trex picked up his cloak. The youngster looked on with large eyes as Trex returned the cloth to its normal size, the fabric seemingly buzzing and glowing slightly as its properties were changed by the young lion.

  ‘Wow!’ said Zea, completely engrossed. She had not seen Trex do much training with his staff or cloak at home.

  ‘How did you do that?’ she asked. Moving closer, her hand reaching out to touch the soft fabric.

  Trex smiled at the younger cub as he took a seat on the timber railing, allowing his cousin to play with the fabric.

  Zea was six years old, and like her mother, she had brown hair which ran just below her shoulders. In addition to a short fringe at the front, Zea also had a few strands of hair that rose awkwardly above her head.

  This was where Zea’s similarity to other cubs, of any race, ended. With her mother a wolf and her father a lion, the rest of Zea’s features were her own. The small girl’s nose was obviously triangular, unlike any wolf, but considerably smaller then any lions. Her ears were also different, despite being almost pointy like a wolf’s they were thickly furred at its edges, like a lions. Her long tail, despite having longer hair instead of shorter fur for its full length, was still considerably thinner then the bushy tail of her mother. Her fur colour was an unusual pale yellow, almost grey, something not found in either race.

  To Trex, however, his little cousin was gorgeous. Having grown up with her since she was born, he cherished her dearly. It was because of this that he worried occasionally about the future, and what would happen to her and his uncle and aunt if he went away. There had only been a handful of half-breeds throughout history, and Trex couldn’t remember that any of the stories ended happily for them, or their families. Momentarily saddened by the thought, his eyes refocussed on his cousin, shaking off his doubt, he brought himself back.

  ‘Is it magic?’ asked Zea. Her attention was fixed on the orange cloak still in Trex’s hands.

  ‘No, not really,’ replied Trex.

  As almost all lions could do the transformation of specific material’s properties, he felt that it couldn’t really be considered magic.

  ‘Maybe just a little magic,’ he added with a knowing smile. This answer seemed to please the young girl more.

  ‘How does it work?’ she asked, taking the cloak off of her larger cousin, stretching it experimentally.

  ‘It is made of a very special fabric,’ explained Trex, ‘all I have to do is concentrate on what I want the material to do, and then it changes.’

  ‘Wow, really? Is that all?’ asked the fascinated cub. Quickly clutching the cloak to her chest, she screwed up her small face in concentration, obviously trying it out for herself. Opening her eyes, she looked down at the cloak, disappointed that it had not changed.

  ‘It’s broken,’ she said apologetically.

  Trex laughed for a second.

  ‘It’s not broken,’ he said kindly, ‘it takes years of practice. You have to go through many lessons before you can even change it a little,’ he reassured her.

  ‘But you did it so quickly,’ she said, not believing her older cousin.

  ‘Yes, and I have taken classes for many years. You know all the meditation and exercises I do?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied.

  Trex usually did his morning exercises with his uncle every day, as was typical amongst lions. He also spent about three hours a week meditating.

  ‘Well I have to do all that to help me concentrate enough to change the fabric,’ Trex said.

  Zea looked from him to the cloth, then back again.

  ‘All that, just to change some cloth?’ she asked, her young impatient mind staggered by the amount of patience seemingly involved.

  ‘Yes,’ laughed Trex, ‘when you get used to it, you can use it to keep yourself warm and dry in the rain, it can also protect you from the sun, or help to keep you cool. You can even make shelter out of it.’

  Zea did not appear to be particularly impressed, considering the amount of effort seemingly involved.

  ‘And when you get really good,’ continued Trex, undaunted. ‘You can turn it into a long rope, or you can make it turn elastic like a springy rope, or become hard as rock so no one can hurt you.’

  This seemed to impress the girl more. She suddenly imagined herself jumping off the roof attached to an elastic rope that stopped you getting hurt.

  ‘And what is this?’ she asked, pointing to the large, dark violet, circular pendant set into a gold metal disk.

  ‘That is to help me concentrate, it also stores the energy needed to make changes more quickly.’

  Zea looked at the pendant, the almost black surface looking darker than should be allowed, considering the level of light in the midday sun.

  ‘Do you want to see something great?’ asked Trex.

  Zea nodded eagerly, impressed by the pretty purple stone.

  ‘The stone can tell you if you are happy or sad,’ he said, taking the stone from the younger girl. ‘All you have to do is put your finger on it, and when you take it away whatever colour you see is what you are feeling,’ he said.

  Holding the underside of the pendant, he offered it to his cousin.

  She was holding her long tail in both hands, a little nervous. She was not sure she liked the idea of a stone knowing if she was happy or sad.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he said encouragingly.

  Stepping forward, she placed a finger on the stone for an instant, pulling it back hurriedly and hiding her hands behind her back. Looking at the stone, Zea could make out a yellow spot, there also appeared to be a few blue rings that made it look a bit green, quickly the colour faded until the stone was almost black again.

  ‘What is it saying?’ she wanted to know, her tail wagging slightly behind her.

  ‘It says that you are happy, but also a little scared.’

  Zea’s eyes went wide; she was impressed with the stone. She liked it much more than the cloak.

  ‘Are there many of these stones?’

  ‘Every lion that becomes a citizen is given one,’ replied Trex automatically.

  Zea thought for a second, her hands playing with her short skirt.

  ‘Where is daddy’s?’ she asked.

  Trex faltered for a second, Zea’s father Karthen had been striped of his citizenship soon after Zea was born. Just after he made his intentions clear to marry Zea’s, wolf mother, Sharlee.

  ‘Ummm…’ stammered Trex. ‘He… he lost his.’

  ‘Oh’ said Zea, slightly disappointed. The young girl then suddenly had another thought.

  ‘But I will get one when I go to school, right?’

  Trex had thought about this often enough to have a response ready made. Exactly what would happen to his younger cousin yet was unsure, and she was due to start school this year. He was unsure if she would ever be able to do any material transformation, as few wolfs in history had ever managed it. But even if she could, it was unlikely she would be allowed to try.

  ‘You never know,’ he replied honestly, ‘maybe, if you’re really lucky.’

  She smiled at this, the answer seemed acceptable.

  ‘I’ll train every day,’ she proclaimed proudly. ‘I know mummy and daddy will help…’

  Suddenly the young girl stopped, remembering something, her pointy ears drooped to either side. The cub turned without a further word to run towards the outside stairs to the balcony.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Trex, as she made her way down the stairs.

  ‘I forgot that I had to get mummy some string,’ called back the young girl.

  Trex leaned over the patio railing, looking towards the back kitchen door.

  ‘You should also go, daddy was wondering were you were for so long,’ she called back from inside the house.

  Trex could hear her rustling through the many draws in her search for the elusive string. Throwing his cloak over a nearby cane chair Trex made his way down to the kitchen, it was time to get back to normal life.

>   It wasn’t long until the late evening sun had disappeared behind the low hills to the west of Trex’s home. The mild evening was giving over to night as the first stars appeared in the heavens.

  Having completed the last of his chores, Trex walked up the path to his home. He listened to the sound of the many insects chirping and calling out in the warm late-summers night. Light spilled out from the lower windows of the house.

  Approaching the back door, Trex could make out his uncle and aunt preparing the evening meal.

  The lion youth used a series of hand brushes hooked onto the outside wall to remove mud and dirt from his bare feet. Finishing up, Trex opened the door to find his uncle already seated while Zea helped her mother with the last of the items needed to set the table.

  ‘Just made it in time,’ said Trex’s aunt Sharlee, sitting down. Trex nodded, making his way over to his seat.

  ‘Finish everything ok?’ asked his uncle. The older lion made a grab for the freshly prepared spread, which had just been placed at the table.

  ‘They’ll be right till morning,’ replied Trex, referring to the few farm animals the family owned. He grabbed a slice of dark bread.

  ‘I wanted to try it,’ said an unhappy Zea, pouting at her father.

  ‘If you ask nicely I’ll make you a slice,’ replied Zea’s father.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Zea happily, her legs swinging back and forth under the large chair.

  ‘Zea?’ questioned her mother in a kind voice, not looking up while preparing her own bread.

  ‘Can you please make me a bread papa?’ asked Zea automatically.

  ‘Sure sweetheart,’ replied Karthen, making a rather impressive looking sandwich for his little girl.

  Trex’s uncle Karthen was a large, strongly built lion male well into middle age. As with all lions, he had pale orange fur, and in Karthen’s case the longer hair on his head was black, cut short, but still remained scruffy. On his face he had an elegant trim goatee and short moustache, also black, helping to emphasise his sharp, alert features. Currently, his expression was its normal friendly self. Being striped of his citizenship, Karthen did not wear the sash and pendant.

  Sitting opposite the lion adult was his wolf wife Sharlee, she was only a little shorter then Karthen and looked as fit and strong as her husband. Her brown fur was almost the same colour as her brown longer hair, which come past her shoulders and was worn loose most of the time. Sharlee had a calm look about her, her sometimes sad expression reflecting what she had been through to get to her current peaceful start of middle age.

  Dinner proceeded as it normally did, the unusual small family unit talking casually while they ate. About halfway through dinner the discussion moved to Trex’s regular weekly stay at RefugeCross the previous night.

  ‘You said something interesting happened this morning,’ stated Sharlee towards Trex.

  Swallowing the food that he was chewing, Trex prepared himself for what was to come, knowing that it would all come out eventually anyway.

  ‘Yes, there was a robbery this morning apparently,’ he said eventually.

  ‘A robbery?’ asked his uncle with interest.

  ‘Someone broke into the Head Councillors’ private chambers and stole some personal things.’

  ‘How did they get in?’ asked his aunt with interest.

  ‘They used ropes to scale the outer wall and to access their balcony.’

  This generated a whistle from his uncle.

  ‘Gutsy,’ his uncle said, impressed, ‘used the mist this morning ha?’

  The same mist that had surrounded RefugeCross had not lifted from around the farm until later in the day, the farm being in a slight valley.

  Trex nodded.

  ‘Do they know what was taken?’ continued his aunt, who was cutting up some cheese for Zea while she spoke.

  ‘Not really, only some letters and a personal seal. It only happened this morning.’

  ‘Didn’t catch them then,’ Karthen said, taking a drink.

  ‘No, not before I left in any case,’ replied Trex.

  ‘No wonder you couldn’t talk with Captain Farell this morning,’ said his aunt. She was referring to Captains Felx’s second name Farell.

  This was a noticeable difference in wolf and lion social behaviour. Lions had always been brought up to believe that direct family was of lesser importance, as you were a member of a larger family, the lion community. This had lead to officials and officers normally being referred to by their first name instead of their family name on a day to day basis. To lions, the family name had little importance other then for recordkeeping and the like.

  This, however, was the total opposite to the wolf culture and tradition. Wolves held family name and standing above all else. Indeed, the family name was often worth more then the individual, it being the reason why the family names or symbols was always carried as a tattoo by all wolves.

  ‘He would have been busy with the robbery,’ Sharlee suggested, as Trex didn’t answer

  ‘Yeah,’ said Trex, sinking a little into his seat, ‘that’s not strictly true.’

  ‘I thought you said you didn’t have good chance to talk to him about your future?’ asked his uncle, his eyebrow raised.

  ‘Well, we didn’t,’ replied Trex, ‘but we did sort of talk about other things. I sort of got involved this morning.’

  ‘Involved?’ questioned his uncle. ‘In what? The robbery?’

  ‘Sort of… not really,’ Trex said.

  Around him his family was suddenly all ears, even his little cousin was listening in with interest.

  ‘I saw someone scaling down the outside of the inner city walls,’ Trex said quickly. His talked faster and faster as if he wanted to get all the information out before he could be interrupted.

  ‘The guards were not able to make it in time before the Anthro they were chasing got away.’

  Suddenly pausing, Trex looked across at his uncle. He could see that he was becoming agitated.

  The older lion was already guessing where this was headed.

  Swallowing, Trex continued.

  ‘The fugitive was heading east over the rooftops, and well… I sort of knew a short cut.’

  ‘You fought him,’ interrupted his uncle, becoming angry.

  ‘You had nothing to do with it, and you fought him. Are you out of your mind?’ he asked rhetorically, his voice getting louder.

  Though his change in voice and attitude was only slight, this was something very rarely seen from the normally calm older lion. Zea picked up on it immediately, becoming fearful.

  ‘Karthen,’ warned Sharlee, still managing to speak in a neutral voice. She received a sharp glare from her husband, annoyed that he had been interrupted. They stared each other down for a second until Sharlee’s eyes flicked across to their daughter. Calming slightly, Karthen addressed the little girl.

  ‘Zea, could you please go and play up stairs?’ he asked.

  ‘But I’m not finished with dinner,’ replied the cub. She was actually not hungry any more but still didn’t want to miss out on anything.

  ‘You can take a sandwich with you if you like,’ said her father.

  Food was not normally allowed upstairs for the young girl.

  ‘But…’ Zea began.

  ‘I know you would like to stay,’ interrupted her mother smoothly, ‘but we need to have a talk with Trex alone.’

  Zea began to falter slightly, but was still hesitant.

  ‘Later on I will read you any book you like,’ offered Sharlee as a sweetener.

  ‘Any book?’ asked Zea, her mood lifting. The little girl was already thinking about getting her favourite book read out to her again for the hundredth time.

  ‘Any book,’ confirmed her mother, if somewhat reluctantly. Sharlee used to like that story when she was younger, but after the hundredth time, it was wearing thin.

  Convinced, Zea hopped off her seat. Standing upright, the young girl’s head come just above the table as she looked over
at her cousin. He was currently looking at her father. The adolescent male didn’t look worried anymore, he was looking angry.

  ‘Can I take a glass of water with me?’ asked the little girl.

  ‘Yes dear, you can,’ said Karthen, not turning to look at his daughter.

  Taking a glass with her big paws the young girl walked over to the stairs. Looking back, she could see both Trex’s and her father’s smooth orange tails flicking a little behind them.

  Arguments between the two were very rare, and she was sort of glad to be going.

  ‘You were saying,’ prompted Sharlee, by far the calmest individual in the room.

  Trex had switched from being worried to being angry. He couldn’t understand his uncle’s sudden hostility, even before he had had the chance to explain himself.

  ‘Well anyway,’ continued Trex in an annoyed tone. He was deliberately addressing his aunt to avoid facing his uncle directly. ‘I managed to get outside the old eastern wall before the Anthro the guards were chasing did. The fugitive must have just avoided the chasing guards because it literally fell over the wall into a courtyard.’

  Beside Trex, his uncle taped the table with one of his large fingers. He was trying hard to hear out the last of the story.

  ‘All I wanted to do was hold the suspect up till the guards came,’ said Felx honestly, ‘but then she came at me.’

  ‘She?’ said his uncle, ‘you had better be talking about a lioness.’

  Karthen’s voice had suddenly taken on an unexpectedly defeated tone. At this stage the older male had already resigned himself to the worst scenario possible, his anger seeping over into outright astonishment, Karthen’s ears and posture sagged slightly.

  Trex picked up on the fact that his uncle was no longer overly angry with him, but more likely disappointed. Trex automatically became slightly ashamed, despite his previous anger.

  ‘Well…’ he said, cringing in admission.

  ‘So you chose to go into a fight with a mature female wolf, on your own, even though the whole thing was none of your business?’ asked his Uncle, now calm.