Marvela Mystic | ✔️

Chapter 3 ✨ Stray Cat

Marvela gradually became aware of a cool breeze ruffling her patchy, singed coat. The sensation brought back hazy memories of flying high above the treetops of Grudgewood Forest, clinging to an enraged crow by her claws. That's right... There had been fire everywhere. Where had it come from? She remembered she had fallen, but it wasn't the gnarled branches of her familiar forest that had risen to catch her.

Slowly, the black kitten opened her eyes.

She was no longer in her forest of gold. She was in a dark and dingy place; an alleyway that was foreign to her. The coldness of the human-made cobbled stones beneath her paws and the scents of hundreds of strange people made her fur stand on end. She winced, giving her poor singed coat a good once-over with her tongue to soothe it.

Marvela thrashed her tail at the cacophonous street noise just beyond the lit entryway of the alley. Cars and trucks rumbled by, roaring and belching foul-smelling smoke. Silhouettes of passersby strolled past the alley where she hid, laughing and smiling and completely unaware of the terrified kitten hiding in the shadows. Marvela's whiskers drooped. Her heart sank with a painful pang.

Vigilance. She had fallen into the town of Vigilance.

Marvela pressed her back against a stack of old crates left abandoned in the alley, blinking into the blinding sunlight streaming in from the street. The buildings at either side of her caged her and left her feeling claustrophobic. In all her life, she had never left the safety and comfort of Grudgewood, a place where she knew each of the animal inhabitants by name.

A place she desperately wanted to return to.

Her little heart beat against her chest as if struggling to free itself and lead the way back home.

The sunlight shifted. Now patches of it dappled the stone ground, wavering on the leather-bound spellbook lying in front of her. Fresh claw-marks raked its worn cover.

The kitten uttered a gasp and scooped up the heavy book with her forepaws. This book was all that she had left of her cottage—of home. Marvela cracked open the old tome, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and spices that wafted from the weathered pages.

It smelled like her witch.

Marvela shut her eyes to stifle the tears welling in the corners. "Sable... Oh, Sable... What do I do...?"

She tried to conjure images of her witch's smiling face in her mind's eye, but all she saw were the flames that had engulfed their home and reduced it to ashes.

All she saw was Asra's cruel smile as her witch disappeared right before her eyes.

Her ears pivoted back toward the sound of approaching padded paw-steps. Marvela whirled around with a jolt, coming face to menacing face with a scruffy full-grown cat perched upon the boxes. The enormous tabby grinned down at her with a face full of scars.

"What do we have here?" asked the laughing cat through broken fangs. His rancid breath almost made the kitten's whiskers shrivel and curl. "Are you lost, little kitty?"

Marvela squeaked up at the beastly cat. She didn't think she could pacify him with any berries. She arched her back and fluffed up her tail. Her wide orange eyes were aflame. Despite her efforts, she was still hopelessly small in the face of the other laughing cat.

So, she turned tail and ran, mewling, "Ah! What do I do?" as she snapped up the old book by the spine in her jaws and dragged it with her as she bolted from the alley and the cackling cat in the shadows.

She scurried onto the sidewalk and into a forest of busy legs. People uttered exclamations of surprise at the panicked kitten. Some reached down to grab at Marvela, but she was too quick, too fearful, too concentrated on not getting stepped on. She ran with no destination or goal in mind.