Fiction9

The next few months saw WhiteShadow remaining in the solitude of his cave, musing over the events of his life so far. What had he become? A thief, and a murderer? He had only robbed from the wealthy to feed himself, and only killed in self-defence, and that had only been once - and a fine fighter that man turned out to be... But that was in the past; much like that bloody bar brawl... If what he had seen showed anything, was that the only man who had called him friend was a vicious murderer and an outcast as well, and the only ones willing to show him mercy were the hunters, mercenaries whose loyalty was to Meseta, not to any moral values. When it came down to it, WhiteShadow's need for survival was also a need for meseta, for food - he would not slay his bretheren animals nor feast on the vile flesh of the biomonsters. The treasure that the sand worm had guarded was a great one, indeed, but it was far from edible. WhiteShadow had never eaten well, but his lean form had gone down to purely stringy muscle. It was time for him to encroach on civilization once more. But first, he would bid the new pack leader farewell and good luck.

Tonoe's populace had suffered enough at his hands, WhiteShadow knew; and Paseo would not welcome him. Krup, the next closest village, would not welcome the one who symbolised evil cults that corrupted young people. He would strike west, for the large lake sporting the accursed Soldier's Temple would bear him no great fruit. He would, however, have to stop in both Tonoe and Krup for food. Perhaps if he simply rubbed blue basalt into his fur... No. He would never do that - I may keep my countenance hidden from the world, he thought, but I would never become one of those that cast me out.

With these thoughts playing in his mind, WhiteShadow approached the tent village of Tonoe. The tent closest to the forest was also the biggest, and hence would house the one with the most food they could afford to lose. Although night had not yet fallen, WhiteShadow hoped his speed would aid him in theiving without capture. As he stepped into the sunlight, a gruff voice stopped him. "Hey, you there!" WhiteShadow froze.

Giving WhiteShadow a slap on the back, Dorin passed by and entered the large tent. WhiteShadow still stood, frozen, amazed at his luck. If Dorin had realised his identity, seen even the smallest flash of white fur, he would have surely called upon said "hotheads" or even attack WhiteShadow himself. Now that the outcast albino knew of the bounty on his head, it was fair to assume that his reputation, however false and stained by the clan affair, preceded him.

Inside the tent, Dorin pulled on his chin fur in constertation. So, he thought, the WhiteShadow, the herald of Dark Falz is here... But why? Dorin knew the old legend better then anyone, had been present at WhiteShadow's birth, but never believed the events that came afterward. This boy may be a thief, but knowing Chaz Ashley, one of the protectors of Light, Dorin had heard the tales (re: Phantasy Star 4) many times, and in none of them did an albino Motavian have a hand in Dark Force's plans - Zio had been Dark Force's herald, not this misunderstood boy. But simply by the way he had reacted to Dorin's touch, the old Motavian could sense that he was not ready to face the weight of the world just yet.
"What is it, Dorin?" The young male voice broke Dorin out of his reverie. Chaz had stopped in Tonoe many times in his

Finding an unattended stand-alone apple tree, WhiteShadow decided he wouldn' have to break in anywhere, but instead simply stay out of sight of the nearest tents and enjoy some nourishment. Apple trees were very rare these days, even in the forest. As he lounged, once again enjoying the solitude and beauty of nature, bright blue birds wheeled playfully above his head. After finishing his third apple, he wiped the juice from his chin and stood up to leave. That's when he heard the sobbing. Turning around, he saw a pair of blue-furred legs sticking out from the other side of the tree. Sneaking his head around, he saw a small Motavian girl crying her eyes out. Dressed in bright green, with a pink bow in her fur, her clothing contrasted with the sorrowful expression she wore. Deciding a girl was no threat, unless she screamed, WhiteShadow knelt down beside her.
"What's the matter?" He asked gently. Without looking up, she pointed up into the green heights of the tree. A yellow creature sat on a branch, high up, looking like a cross between a cat and a rabbit. It mewed in fear.
"Don't worry, little one, I'll get him down for you." Rubbing his black-gloved hands together, WhiteShadow easily scaled the tree. Reaching the cat creature's level, he smiled at it and began to reach for it. Suddenly, the hackles stood up on the cat's back and it hissed angrily. Without warning, it leapt for WhiteShadow's face, scratching and clawing as the shocked motavian lost his grip and fell, sending the pair tumbling to the ground below...

As WhiteShadow regained conciousness, the first noise he heard was suppressed giggling. Behind that, however, there were many mumbling voices. Not a good sign, by any rate. Opening his eyes, painfully, WhiteShadow put a hand to his aching head, bringing flaring pain from the many scratches on his face. Dammit, Motavians were supposed to have thick fur, what kind of demonic creature was THAT thing, anyway?
Turning his mind back to the problem at hand, WhiteShadow took a quick look around. Right above him was the smiling face of the crying girl, all cheered up now. WhiteShadow started in fear when he saw the cat-thing perched happily on her shoulder. That was no match, however, for the more dangerous sight all around. At least ten brawny Motavians had gathered around, looking at the albino with much concern in their eyes. He must've fallen on his head, since the pain he felt matched the hangover he had gotten after drinking Deszorian fire-brew one quiet night in Molcum when he was younger. He was in no condition to fight ten of his own kind.
Suddenly, one of the Motavians stepped forward, dressed in the same green robes, with a large axe strapped to his back. The axe shimmered in the sun like no weapon WhiteShadow had ever seen before, apart from that Dark Creature's claws and Chaz's blade... This guy must've gotten around. Disregarding the albino's red-eyed stare, the axe-weilder placed a hand on the girl's other shoulder and gently pulled her away.
"Come now, Pana, we don't know if he's dangerous or not." The little girl did as she was told, but looked up at the larger, male Motavian with a questioning look in her eyes.
"But, brother, he's kind... And funny... And MewMew likes him," At this the yellow cat-creature hissed and spat. "He's not dangerous - he's just like everybody else? What's the trouble?"
"Don't you worry about it now, Pana, we're just taking him to see Grandfather Dorin," At this the axe-wielder got a few curious looks, but he disregarded them, continuing, "He won't be harmed, I promise."