The Blade

Lion-O looked back over his shoulder.  Cats Lair looked so small from this far away, like it was a child's toy.  Only the stark cliffs that it was built into gave the scene any perspective at all.  A sharp, jagged wall of rock with a toy built into it.  And it wasn't even his toy anymore.

They hadn't even tried to stop him.  Not that he blamed them.  They were too shocked, stunned to do anything but stare at him mutely as he strode out.  And perhaps they knew it was for the best anyhow.  He just didn't belong there anymore.

He suddenly became aware of a weight on his hip.  The Claw Shield.  He had meant to leave it behind.  To leave it all behind.  You have a destiny, Jaga had said.  I will always be with you, Jaga had said.  He had to cut himself free.

He was coming up on one of the few rivers on Third Earth that didn't contain acid or giant squid or Black Widow sharks.  This would be as good a place as any.  He pulled the Claw Shield off of its familiar perch on his waist.  He gave it a silent fairwell and pitched it out into the calm waters of the wide, blue expanse of water.

He took a deep breath and dove in, the shock of the cold water slapping him like a hand over every inch of his skin.  He swam downwards with powerful strokes, down as far as he could go.  And then he started peeling off the armored clothing.  It had come from Jaga.

He remembered.  He was a cub.  The encounter with Jaga had been buried deep down in his mind, but it had done nothing to slake his thirst for exploring. It had taken less than a year to complete mapping every secret passage and nook in the Palatial Lair.  He wanted more.  He wanted the outside.

He had stolen himself outside a few times in secret, but a young noble named Tygra had caught him during his third escape.  Though little more than a youth himself, Tygra possessed a calm, discerning mind, and a serious demeanor that had established him as one of the favorites at the court.

He had been no match for young Lion-O.  They had both known that the cub would manage to wriggle out of the Lair somehow, and get off to who knew where as soon as no one was looking.  So Tygra did the smart thing.  He struck a deal.  He wouldn't tell Claudis of young Lion-O's adventures, as long as he was to accompany Lion-O on his excursions, to insure the young prince didn't get into too much trouble.  Lion-O had gleefully agreed, and the two had formed a fast friendship, the cool detached intellect of the tiger matching well with the hot headed daring of the youthful lion.

It was on one of these little outings that young Lion-O had spotted them. They were in a busy market square, and the sprightly cub had been weaving through the crowd rambunctiously, so excited by the action that he had quite left his protector behind.  The crowd had been circling around two performers, and Lion-O was slithering around and between the legs of the adults to get a better look at them.

When he thrust his head through the front rank of the vocal crowd, he was met by a sight that took his breath away.  There were two of them, young, but a few years older than he was, by the look of them.  And they were exotic.  He would learn later that they were mongrels, like most of the popultion of Thundera, but to a young boy raised only around pure-breed nobles, these two creatures were exotic.

The boy was playing to the crowd, smiling and juggling a few dozen peices of assorted fruit.  The girl was working the front rank of the crowd, trading saucy barbs with hecklers, and cartwheeling to anyone who offered a coin.  His mouth was hanging open as he stared at her.  She was lithe and pretty, and had an attractive mane of swept up red hair, with a distinctive black stripe up the middle.  But what attracted him was the way she handled the crowd.  She was in control of them, playing with them, she owned them, and she knew it.

And she was coming towards him.  He worked his mouth, trying to say something to the goddess.  She was taller than he was, an older woman.  Could she love him the way he loved her?  He stared into the wide, amber eyes as they locked on his.  Come on, say something, anything.  "Hi."

She simply smiled and leaned down slightly to kiss him on the nose.  Young Lion-O almost collapsed on the spot.  His heart was thumping uncontrollably. There was no one, no one at all like this at the royal court.  And she liked him!  She had kissed him!

The red haired girl yelped as Tygra caught her arm.  Lion-O's purse was clasped within her hand.  "Little sneak thief," accused Tygra softly, and soon the cry went out around the crowd, as Thunderans patted themselves down to find wallets and other valuables missing.  The girl struggled and pulled at the tiger's strong grip, and the angry crowd was headed towards her.  Lion-O looked on, stunned, afraid they would kill her, ready to fight them if they tried.

"Leave her alone," cried the boy, a scrawny youngster with mottled white and orange fur.  The next thing anyone knew there were several loud pops, and the crowd was covered in smoke.  Thunderans were coughing and thrashing about in the smoke, trying to lay their hands on the little street tramps.  Lion-O wasn't coughing.  He was back, far away from the crowd.  Tygra had grabbed him up and leapt away with him as soon as the first explosive burst had rung out.

"Looks like they escaped," said Tygra solemnly, slightly upset at himself that he'd had the girl in his hands and had somehow lost her.  "No matter, I'll alert the city guard.  The next time they ply their thievery they'll be punished for it."

"They're probably orphans or something," said young Lion-O with a wistful look.  "She...they, were probably stealing to have money to eat."

"That doesn't make it right, Lion-O," reminded Tygra.

Lion-O made up his mind and looked up to Tygra with quiet, demanding eyes. "I want them."

"What?"

"I want them.  To be my friends, to play with me.  I want them to live at the palace with us.  Its so boring there, there's no one my age!  I want them!"

"But prince Lion-O, they are strays!  Only nobles and Thundercats are allowed to reside within the Palatial Lair!"

"That's easy then," said young Lion-O quietly.  "Make them Thundercats."

Lion-O's lungs burned.  How long had he been underwater?  Which way was up? It was so dark, so cold.  He lashed out with his arms at the water, struggling against the water not in any useful way, but just struggling.  The bubbles, his movement created bubbles, and they floated up...

Lion-O cut upwards through the water, putting as much effort into keeping his mouth from drawing in deep lungfulls of water as he did his strenuous strokes. Finally, after what seemed like long minutes, his head broke through the placid surface of the slow moving river and gasped in deep breaths of air.

He swam slowly to the shore of the lake and coughed, laying on the warm bank, soaked and naked.  *Now what do I do?* he asked himself.  *I've made my break...I'm no longer a king, or even a Thundercat.  Where do I go now?*

He looked up from the ground, hearing the hoof falls of one of the four legged creatures that Wollos and Tabbots rode.  He picked himself up to face the newcomer.  It was a Tabbot, short and rounded, with a fat pig face and droopy eyes, and a small horn in its forhead.  "Well now, snort snort, there's something you don't see every day."

"I am Lion-O, L...just Lion-O.  I don't suppose you could spare me some food or clothing, friend Tabbot?"

"Falstaff, snort snort, Falstaff is my name.  I have food and clothing, but not to spare.  But you look like a strapping young lad.  If you come with me, I'm sure I can find a few odd jobs that would be worth the items you seek. Snort snort, after all, its a hard world, young Lion-O.  Nothing is free, and the things that seem like they are have the highest price tags in the end."

"You are wise, Falstaff," said Lion-O somberly.  "I shall accompany you." Falstaff grinned and eyed the muscular youth, intantly mentally categorizing him as a rube.  This was too perfect.

And far, far away, a hunched figure in decaying bandages watched the scene in a bubbling cauldron.  His grinning eyes were like glassy crimson marbles, and he cackled softly.  "So...young Lion-O has broken away to forge himself a new destiny," he thought aloud.  "I could send a monster to dispatch him...but no, the potential for disaster is too great.  If he survived the attack, or worse, was saved by the others, he might rejoin them.  No...this time the Thundercats are their own worst enemies.  I shall watch, and wait, and not provide them with a unifying enemy."

His wrinkled face crinkled up into a sharp, toothy grin.  "And if it begins to look like young Lion-O shall return, or shall become troublesome in other ways, then I'll just have to unleash you, Mr. Bones, and without that cursed Sword of Omens he is nothing!"  And the undead demon laughed, and the laughter was joined by a low strangled hiss from the darkness, and the scraping sound of the unnatural thing Mumm-Ra called his servant.