For Freedom
Really, what else was there to life than the dark, dank, damp, dripping cell scuttling with rats? This was the whole world to the lighira now. His once silky and shiny black pelt was dull, and clung to his ribs like leaves to a dead tree. His firey colored wings, once held in an elegant posture, drooped in the darkness. Yet the lighira knew he would never give up. What was beyond giving up? If he gave up, the menacing humans would make him like their other captives, preform tricks beyond their abilities. Make them beg for the tiniest morsel of food. No, the lighira decided. He'd rather starve to death in this blank cell than do all that. The tiniest of scratching was heard in the corner of the cell. The exhausted sylesti hauled himself to his feet, and padded towards the sound. Even if he was in a state like this, he still moved without a sound. The rat never saw it coming; the paw of the massive feline slamming down on it, taking away it's last breaths of life. The lighira consumed the rat in a gusto. He knew there wasn't much time before he left the world, but he'd leave the world with a little in his stomach, at least.
It was ironic, really. All those tales of the lucky sylesti who got chosen to go with a human counterpart to explore Sylestia. So this was luck, huh? The lighira's gaze wandered over the cell bars again, the bars etched into his memory by the years he'd spent in the cell. His thoughts were cut short by the sound of heavy boots descending down the stone stairs at the end of the hallway the cell was located in. The feline glanced across the hall into the other cell. The bones of a sylesti lay peacefully in a pile, yellow with age and gleaming in the dull light of the underground. The lighira sighed, he'd probably be peacefully dead too, when those boots reach his cage.
Seconds seemed to drag into hours as the boots came down the hall. Finally, they stopped. The lighira startled, surprised they weren't at his cell. A clanking of chains and a soft 'thud' was heard to his cell's left, followed by a short and surprised yelp, which then faded into quiet. Quivering, the large feline backed into the corner of his cell as the boots finally came to a stop outside his cell. Two eyes, bright green, stared back at the lighira. A gruff voice was heard.
"Get it out of there. We'll try training it again today," the voice was human. The lighira couldn't understand, but the word 'training' was seared into his mind. He was always called 'it'. Yet he had a name, and it was Xenothell. He gave a weak whimper as two humans entered his cell, holding the thick chain he'd come to know so well. He was too weak to resist as the humans looped the chain around his neck tightly - almost so tight it cut of his breath - and dragged him out of the cell. His body thumped along the ground as the humans pulled him along. His legs failed to function and his breath came in ragged gasps. The time was near, he knew. The time he left the world.
Xenothell blinked into the bright sunshine as he was dragged into a circle of sawdust and coughed as the sawdust headed up his nose. Immediately, he was rewarded with a lash, the whip biting deep into his thin black coat. Xenothell stayed silent, all means of rebellion gone as time had passed. More whips urged him to his feet, and he stumbled to the center of the ring. The mean humans poked him, causing him to fall over, then laughed, a dry, scratchy sound.
The humans finally left, and a new human emerged into the sawdust ring from another doorway to Xenothell's left. This human was new to this business; the lighira knew. He could see the human's knees knocking together in fear, as if the human thought Xenothell would pounce any moment. But he couldn't. He couldn't pounce. Not with this much energy left, no. Another human walked up behind the new one. This human Xenothell knew well. This was the human that first caught him, tortured him, and humiliated him.
"It won't bite!" The human's stony voice floated across the ring, and Xenothell knew it was directed at the new human. "Plus, if it does, we'll kill it." At these words, the new human seemed to be more confident. The feline had no idea what the older human had said, but it scared him. The new human walked up to Xenothell and glared him in the eyes. Timid, Xenothell looked away. The moment his eyes turned away from the human, a jerk came from the chain and Xenothell let out a cough again, stumbling forwards. The new human was now holding the chain. Xenothell felt the difference; the human's grip was less firm and tight than the other, older human's had been.
Suddenly, in a burst of unknown new energy, the lighira roared, but it was still a slightly scratchy sound. The young human dropped the chain, screamed, and ran towards the older human, who was watching from the side. As the old human called vigorously for backup, Xenothell stretched his wings out to feel the air. The fresh air on his wings filled him with the hunger for freedom. Without thinking, the lighira launched himself into the air. He wobbled, teetered, and tottered, like a toddler walking for the first time, but rose into the air steadily. A pang of hunger stung his stomach, and he lurched in the air. Still, he flew on. He rose up, up, higher than the walls around him, and headed outwards. Beneath him, other humans had arrived with black sticks pointed at him, making banging noises. A small projectile whizzed passed Xenothell's muzzle, skimming the tip of his nose. The pain blossomed like a flower, and he lurched again in the air. Know he knew; don't get hit by the small balls. Panicked, the lighira flew forwards. He put on a burst of speed, his weary wings protesting, but still carried his body over the walls. He could hear shouting behind him, he could feel his fear, he could feel his sharp pain of his wings. All of that was forgotten as the thought of freedom blossomed into Xenothell's mind. His wings now carried him with renewed energy; his body no longer aching with hunger. His eyes scanned his surroundings. From where he was, he could see endless ocean. But beyond that endless ocean, he could see the tiniest glimpse of land. Maybe he could make it, Xenothell thought.
Xenothell flew out, over the ocean. The ocean wind constantly nagged him, blowing him here and there. Yet he fought on, the idea of freedom fresh in his mind. He struggled against the wind, the smell of salt rising from beneath him. Occasionally, seagulls would attack him, as if they were saying, the air is ours! It is no place for a lighira! When that happened, Xenothell would wrap his wings around him and dive, falling down before snapping his wings open, gliding across the waves, leaving the seagulls dumbstruck behind him.
Days passed. The lighira felt the hunger again, felt the tire of his wings. The land he could see now, a land of flourishing and tranquil green right before his eyes. His eyes began to droop, and he fought to keep them open. His wings suddenly stopped functioning. What was it? A couple of miles from the shoreline? Xenothell tried to get his wings working in a panic, but they refused to obey him...
He fell.
Giving his last energy out in a roar of anguish, the feline plummeted downwards, towards the ocean. The ocean seemed to embrace him, pulling Xenothell into itself. Xenothell couldn't fight anymore; he'd given the chance of freedom his all. Now he was sinking, sinking. His lungs felt like they were about to burst, and they did. His eyes closed, and never opened again.
And so this is the tragic end of our story, the story about the lighira who wanted freedom, and lost his life for freedom. But this is a message to you all: Never give up. Maybe Xenothell didn't make it, but you can. As long as you believe in yourself, as Xenothell did.
(Alternative ending (Read this part if you want a somwhat happy ending. Stop reading if you want the original story!):
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The Zolnixi finished the story, and looked around at her group of friends. They were all sniffing into each other's fur, no question crying about the tragic end of Xenothell.
"Your stories are too good!" A small puffadore sobbed to the zolnixi. The zolnixi allowed herself a sad smile. No doubt, the whole forest would know about this story the moment her friends would start to gossip, telling the story, passing it down generation to generation, a story of bravery and sacrifice. |
