THE SAME NIGHT
The sun has long fallen, and the forest lies wrapped in a soft, haunting calm. The only sound is the gentle whisper of the wind, weaving through the leaves—an eerie yet strangely beautiful harmony between air and nature.
Above, the full moon hangs bright and solemn, its silver light washing over the trees. The forest glows in hues of white and green, as if the night itself has painted it in quiet reverence.
Amid the silver glow of the moon and the tall shadows of the trees, Las and Eli walk along the narrow forest path leading back to camp.
Eli glances at him, noticing the way his tail twitches nervously and how he keeps glancing over his shoulder.
Eli:
"You okay?"
Las turns his head, forcing a crooked grin, trying to look fearless even as his eyes dart around.
Las:
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
Eli smirks, folding her arms.
Eli:
"You look like you're about to wet yourself."
Las blinks, pointing at himself.
Las:
"Me?"
Eli:
"Yes, you."
Las lets out a shaky laugh, his ears twitching.
Las:
"You're imagining things." "Like that time you saw that ghost with the green eyes, remember?"
Eli:
"Sure you have right . Tell that to your trembling tail, banana-head."
"Las"
"My tail's not shaking, it's just cold — shorty cat."
Eli:
"I'm short, huh?"
Las lets out a smug laugh and turns his head—but Eli is gone.
Las:
"Eli? …Where are you?"
The only answer is the soft rustle of leaves moving with the wind.
His tail twitches nervously.
Las:
"Eli, this isn't funny."
He walks through the foliage, gripping Sifu's staff tightly, his hands trembling just enough to betray the unease creeping up his spine.
A sudden rumble of thunder echoes through the forest, deep and rolling.
Las lets out a startled, goofy monkey-like sound.
Las:
"What was that?!"
Eli:
"A storm's coming."
Las yelps, jumping into the air with a ridiculous expression.
Las:
"Mommy!!"
Eli crosses her arms, smirking.
Eli:
"'Mommy,' huh?"
Las stares at her with an exaggerated, cartoonish glare.
Las:
"You're such a dumb cat."
Eli laughs mockingly, her tail flicking with amusement.
Eli:
"What happened? Weren't you the one saying you're not scared?"
Las pushes himself up, trying to stand tall, though his legs tremble slightly.
Eli smirks.
Eli:
"Yeah, sure… not scared at all , "Mommy"
Las:
"Shut up, shorty cat
Eli's face hardens.
Eli:
"If you keep calling me short, I'll leave you on your own."
Las folds his arms, trying to sound braver than he feels.
Las:
"Fine. Go then — I can handle myself."
Eli takes a small step back, folding her arms with a warning smile.
Eli:
"Great. Go—just don't pee yourself and give away our position to the Black wolf
Las glares, visibly annoyed.
Eli keeps walking, closing her eyes as she bursts into laughter, clutching her stomach.
Eli:
"Banana-head monkey!"
Las:
Sussi Baka cat
Eli
Huh ???
Suddenly, Las realizes Eli is gone again.
He lets out a dry, amused chuckle.
Las:
"This time, you won't scare me, shorty."
He runs into the forest, gripping Sifu's staff tightly. After a few steps, he slows down—and stops.
There, sitting quietly like a child, is Eli. She gazes up at the full moon. The pale light bathes her white fur, and her green catlike eyes glimmer like mirrors reflecting the moon itself.
Eli:
"My parents used to tell me… that none of us ever really die. We just go home , to the light of creation."
Las looks at Eli, his expression curious but uncertain.
Las:
"The light of creation? What's that supposed to be?"
Eli keeps her eyes on the moon as she speaks softly.
Eli:
"The Creator. Life and death… the beginning and the end."
Las frowns, scratching the back of his head.
Las:
"I don't get any of that."
Eli smiles faintly, her voice calm but heavy with meaning.
Eli:
"I'm not sure I do either. But maybe… when the time comes, we'll understand. Until then, we just have to live."
She turns to face him, her green eyes reflecting the moonlight.
Eli:
"It hurts, you know… losing my parents. But at the same time, I'm happy. Because I believe they're somewhere better now — a place without death or sorrow… only laughter and peace."
Las rests Sifu's staff across his shoulder, staring at Eli in silence as the breeze ruffles his fur. He walks over and sits down beside her, eyes turned up to the moon.
Las:
"I don't know. I never had parents — I don't even know who I am or where I came from. Sifu said I fell out of a tree and landed on his head. The truth is… I'd rather find out who I am than spend my time getting revenge on that idiot wolf who killed Sifu."
Eli chuckles sarcastically, glancing at Las with a teasing smirk.
Eli:
"So, you're not as much of a banana-brained monkey as you look, huh?"
Las lightly taps Eli on the shoulder with his staff, grinning.
Las:
"Shut up."
Dark clouds slowly begin to crawl across the sky, casting shadows over the full moon. The distant rumble of thunder echoes along the horizon.
Eli rises to her feet.
Eli:
"We should hurry—the rain's coming."
Las smirks.
Las:
"Oh right, I forgot. You cats don't do well with rain, huh?"
Eli crosses her arms, glaring.
Eli:
"Really? You're starting again, banana-head?"
Las laughs like an idiot, standing up as they start walking toward the camp.
Above them, flashes of white lightning streak across the sky, and the wind grows stronger, making the trees roar like furious beasts.
....
ROCK CITY
Inside a ruined library, silence clings to the air — heavy and mournful.
Broken shelves lie toppled against scorched stone walls, their wood blackened and splintered. The books are gone — torn apart or stolen — leaving only ashes and scraps of paper scattered like ghosts across the floor.
The stench of smoke still lingers, faint but stubborn, as the wind sighs through shattered windows and twisted iron frames.
In the pale light seeping through the cracks, bloodstains mark the marble tiles, dried and dark. The library, once a sanctuary of knowledge, now stands as a graveyard of words and fire.
In the center of the room , a single candle flickers — a fragile heartbeat of light within the decay.
The shadow of a fox sits in silence, her face hidden by the dark of the library , She rests on a broken wooden chair before a splintered table.
On the table, a small white candle burns weakly — its tiny flame casting just enough light to reveal her pale hands. Between her fingers, she holds a thin, sharp bone like a quill.
Dipping it into a small jar of crimson blood, she begins to write in a tattered book.
THIS STORY BEGINS WITH BLOOD AND WILL END IN BLOOD