Random Short Stories

The First Khasko [🪽]

The first time Dove noticed the change, it was a subtle shift, almost imperceptible. He was grooming his flank, the familiar white fur feeling rough beneath his paws.

But as he reached the base of his tail, his claws brushed against something different - a patch of fur, a colour darker than the rest, auburn.

He stopped, confused, and licked the spot, the change seeming to disappear under his tongue.

"What's wrong, Dove?" Jackdaw, his littermate, lifted her head from her paws as she lay in their mother's nest, her eyes questioning and curious.

He shook his head, dismissing the odd feeling. "Nothing," he mumbled, continuing his grooming.

Dove, a kitten of barely two moons, had been born with a pelt the colour of snow, a pearly white that seemed to glow in the sun.

His mother, a sleek black she-cat named Coal Sprint, had often remarked on the contrast, the gleam of her son against her midnight fur.

This faint darkening, however, was a new thing, and it troubled him.

The next few moons passed quickly, filled with the usual activities of a kit: chasing butterflies, learning the warrior code, honing his hunting skills.

Dove never mentioned the change in his fur to anyone, even his mother, fearing ridicule. But as the seasons turned, the change became undeniable.

The dark patch on his tail grew, spreading like a creeping shadow, claiming more of his white coat. The glistening white of his fur began to fade, replaced by a rich, golden glow, like the sunrise over the horizon.

One day, while practicing combat with Jackdaw, he noticed her staring. "Your fur," the little Audio said quietly, "it's different."

He froze, his heart pounding. "What are you talking about? What do you mean?" he whispered, his voice tight.

Jackdaw traced a paw over the darker patch on his flank. "Your fur grew darker," she said, her voice laced with concern, "and it's spreading."

Dove felt a wave of panic wash over him. He hadn't spoken of the change to anyone, but somehow Jackdaw had noticed.

He tried to dismiss her concern, "It's just a shadow," he said, his voice strained, "nothing to worry about."

But the change kept happening. Each day, the dark auburn fur encroached further, stealing more of his lovely white coat.

It spread across his back, down his legs, even onto his face, soon leaving only one splash of white in the middle of his chest.

The shift was so gradual, almost imperceptible, that the rest of the tribe had initially dismissed it as a quirk of his genetics.

But as Dove grew, the change became more pronounced, his fur becoming a striking auburn, his eyes shimmering with a depth that reflected the night sky.

And his sigil, which had not appeared during his birth, suddenly manifested on his shoulders. And it was not a sigil any cat had seen before.

Whispers turned into murmurs, then into murmurs that echoed through the tribe. The Elemental Circle, usually stoic and well-versed in the ways of the world, were baffled.

They consulted the ancient scrolls, scrutinized the lineage records, but found no explanation for this discovery. It seemed to be a brand new race of power manifested out of nowhere.

Some, like Tundra Star, saw it as a blessing, a sign of a unique spirit. Others, like Drought Moon, were wary, seeing this change as an unwelcome anomaly.

Soon, however, a trip made by Caspian Star and Hollyhock Moon, the tribe's Healing and Astrology colony leaders to the Realm of Shining Suns soon gave them the answer.

One full moon, as the tribe gathered around the Dragon Tree, Queen Wilted Rose, her voice trembling with excitement, finally spoke the words that had been brewing within her for months.

The Queen, her sleek black pelt awash with the pale moonlight and her eyes shining like twin stars, gazed down as she called Dove forth.

"Dove, young one, you are not like us. You are something else, something... different."

Dove, his dark eyes glinting with a mix of confusion and anticipation, looked at his queen with shivering paws. "What do you mean, your majesty?"

Queen Wilted Rose, her voice strong and steady, explained what they had discovered when they had entered the chasm that night, where the walls were riddled with cryptic symbols.

The ancient deity Rhas'vek, the greatest Celestial, spoke of a race called the Khasko, beings who possessed the power of mimicry, the ability to blend into their environment and even take on the form of other creatures.

"Dove, the Divine Celestial Rhas'vek has spoken. You are the beholder of a brand new elemental race, the start of it all," she announced, her tail held high.

Gasps exploded through the clearing as eyes began to turn their gaze to Dove. The tom himself, now six moons of age, felt both a sense of pride and fear stirring in his gut.

Queen Wilted Rose spread her majestic wings wide open, the silver patterns of her royal lineage beaming down at the rest of the tribe.

"Dove, you are the Northern Kingdom's first Khasko. You have reached the appropriate age of six moons, and I believe it is time you became an apprentice," she meowed, voice resonating with power.

"Do you swear with your life to uphold the Dragon Oath, even if it costs your life?" The young tom-kit felt his heart stop almost in that moment. He hadn't even taken his assessment yet!

The rest of the Elemental Circle shot the reigning Queen looks of confusion and disbelief, but all was ignored as her glowing eyes stared down at Dove expectantly.

"I do."

"Then I call upon the dragon spirits above to take you under their care and grant you a mentor who will teach you the ways of a tribe cat and abide by the Oath of Dragons. Until the day you prove yourself worthy of becoming a fully blossomed warrior of the Tribe of the Blooming Valley, you will be known as Magma."

Before Queen Wilted Rose could continue, however, Jackdaw suddenly protested, "Why is it only him who gets to be an apprentice? What about me? I'm as old as him!"

The Queen glared at her and snapped, "You are not as special as he is. You will wait for your assessment. Magma must be trained under the best of mentors to hone his skills and defend our tribe's honour!"

The hurt and anger in his sister's eyes was evident, and Magma wanted to go there, to stand up for her. He didn't want to be special. He wanted to grow and train together with his sister.

"I will personally mentor you to be the best of the best. Welcome, Magma!" Roared the black furred queen, and though hesitant, the tribe rose into a steady cheer for the first Khasko.

But in that moment, as he watched his sister stalk off, the resentment and hurt clear in her eyes as their mother followed her away, Magma felt nothing close to happiness or pride.

All he felt was shame and fear. He didn't want the fearsome tribe queen as his mentor. He didn't want to be special. He didn't want to be the only one with a special rank and he most certainly didn't want all the attention.

He just wanted to be normal.