It was a time of war. Xweetoks of every hue battled, guided by the light of the moon and stars. One Xweetok was an exceptional fighter. She was a red Xweetok, and she was not the prettiest, but she was a great fighter.
The Xweetok jumped into the air and bit one of the foes, a Lupe. The Lupe howled in pain, giving the Xweetok time to scurry away to the temple.
When the temple was finally in sight, the Xweetok raced in. She gasped in surprise and fear. The temple had been ransacked by the dark king's forces. "No..." The Xweetok muttered, dropping to her knees. "The kits... All of them..."
The moon's light shone through the window. It was a beam of light shining at one lone corner of the temple. The Xweetok looked up. She gasped in surprise, running over to the corner.
Lying wrapped in a blanket lay a single kit. He was blue, and was surprisingly uninjured. The Xweetok smiled with tear-filled eyes. She scooped up the kit gently and pet its small head. The kit cooed softly and flailed his arms.
Suddenly there was a loud siren. The Xweetok's ears perked up and she clutched the kit tight. A shadow loomed over the door of the temple, seeping in like an eerie nightmare. The Xweetok gasped and climbed out of the window, just before a Lupe barged into the temple.
Sighing with relief, the Xweetok knew she couldn't keep the kit with her. She had many more battles to fight, and much more blood to be shed in her work. She scrambled through the nearby woods, heading for the river.
Upon reaching the river, the Xweetok placed the kit in a tangle of river weeds to hide him from prying eyes. She found a hollow log and ripped the top of it off with her sharp sword. She cut it until it was just big enough for the kit to fit in, then placed him inside the now basket-shaped log.
The kit looked up at the Xweetok, blinking dumbfoundedly. Smiling down at the kit with kind eyes, the Xweetok pushed the log into the river, kit and all. She stood up, watching the kit drift down the river until he was out of sight. Turning back only once, the Xweetok raced back to the battlefield, taking charge of her destiny...
A Half Hour later...
After riding down the river for what seemed like hours, the kit came to rest near a large waterfall. The kit of course had absolutely no idea what was going on, so he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Suddenly there was a rustling noise in a nearby bush. The kit's ears twitched, but he did not move. A Shoyru came strolling out of the bush. She was green, and in her hands she held a pale blue egg. She noticed the hollow log, and let curiousity overcome her fear. She walked over to the log, pulled it out of the water, and peered inside.
What she saw inside amazed and astonished her. Ecstatic, she looked behind her and called out to her mate to come see the kit.
Once her mate was beside her, the Shoyru pointed to the log-basket. Feeling just as his mate did, her mate picked it up. "Ceylthona..." He muttered. "Come Karisu," He said to his mate, and began to walk back toward their den, a treehouse in the tallest oak tree in the forest.
Karisu nodded and followed quickly. She looked at her mate curiously. "What was that you called him, Ranan?" She asked him after a few moments had passed.
Ranan smiled at his mate and replied, "Ceylthona." With that, he climbed up into the treehouse.
Karisu climbed quickly into the treehouse after Ranan and shut the wooden door behind her. She walked over to Ranan and the newly-named kit, Ceylthona. "Ceylthona..." She muttered, then looked at Ranan. "Does that have any meaning?"
Ranan shook his head. "No... But it is a fine name. I heard it somewhere. I think... it was the name of a brave prince... But... I'm not sure." He smiled. "But it is a bit long. How about we call him Ceyl?"
Karisu patted Ceyl on the head. "Ceyl is a grand name," She replied. "It suits him well."
* * * * * * * *
Time flew by, and Ceyl grew up into a handsome young Xweetok, raised by the two Shoyrus. As he aged he began to help take care of the territory in and around the treehouse. Presently, at the age of 15, he was helping scrub the walls.
Suddenly he heard Karisu call him. "Ceyl!" He stopped scrubbing and ran over to her. "What is it, Mum?" He addressed her as 'Mum' because he did not know his real parents, and his strange British accent forced him to do so.
Karisu giggled. "Ceyl, dear, you may take the rest of the night off." Ceyl smiled at this. "You've worked terribly hard today, and besides, it's getting late."
Ceyl's smile widened. "Oh, thank you, Mum!" He exclaimed. "But, I'll at least gather the rest of the firewood. That's not too backbreaking."
Karisu shook her head. "Oh, alright. Just be careful." Ceyl hugged her and walked toward the door. "I will, Mum. Don't worry!" With that, he stepped outside and climbed down the ladder.
* * * * * * * *
Whistling a pleasant tune he came up with in his head and with a pile of freshly-cut lumber in his arms, Ceyl walked down the path back toward the treehouse. As he neared the territory he noticed that neither Ranan or Karisu were outside, or in sight at all. He shrugged, figuring they were inside in their room where he could not see them through the window.
He carried the lumber over to the firewood storage, then walked back over to the treehouse. By this time he had stopped whistling as he climbed the ladder. When he got to the top, he called out to his adoptive Shoyru parents. "'Ello?" He yelled, his voice echoing across the walls. "Mum? Dad?"
He took a few steps forward and then stopped as his brown paw landed in a pool of liquid. He looked down and gasped, backing up when he saw that it was blood he had stepped in. Shaking his fear off, his eyes followed the trail of blood until it all focused in a large puddle.
There in the middle of it lay both the Shoyrus, eyes closed and coated in blood, dead. Ceyl's eyes widened and tears filled them. "No... No, no, no, no, no..." Forgetting the thick trail of blood he ran up to where they lay. He looked first at Ranan, then Karisu, tears sliding down his cheeks rapidly. He rubbed the female's cheek tenderly. "M-Mum... and D-Dad..." His voice quivered with fear, and assorted thoughts flew through his head. Who did this? And... are they still here...?
His eyes flitted from his adoptive parents to the scene around them. Everything they had owned, smashed to pieces. Their family portrait, their furniture, their windows and doors, even Ceyl's favorite blue scarf had been torn to shreds. His heart pounded as he took in the smashed egg that had once held his future sibling. He never did understand why the egg was taking so long to hatch, but now it never had a chance.
Ceyl backed away from the scene. He didn't want to look at his dead parents any longer. Dead. The word sent a chill up his spine. His heart beating fast, the Xweetok scrambled down the ladder.