The master spy or Puss in the boot adventures

The blabber of the old cat, Part 2

The blabber of the old cat, Part 2

As the old cat lay motionless on the cobblestones, his companions huddled around him, their hearts heavy with grief. The grand adventure had come at a great cost, and now it seemed their brave leader had given his life to protect them. The mice chittered softly among themselves, unsure of what to do next, while the sparrow perched nearby, its feathers ruffled and its eyes downcast.

The little white kitten gently nudged the cat's side with her paw, her tears falling onto his fur. "Don't leave us now," she mewed softly. "We need you." In that moment, a miracle happened. A golden light began to emanate from the cat's wounds, sealing them closed as they watched. The singed fur grew back sleek and shiny, the air around him crackling with energy.

The cat's eyes flickered open, brighter than ever before. He blinked several times, disoriented but alive. "Wh-what happened?" he asked weakly as his companions crowded around him in celebration.

"You saved us!" squeaked one of the mice excitedly. "You faced down that horrible spirit and almost beat it!"

The sparrow pip-pipped in agreement, adding, "You showed us what true bravery looks like."

Mer-mer sat up stiffly, flexing his once-injured limbs in disbelief. He had not expected to survive the confrontation with the malevolent spirit, let alone emerge stronger than before. Perhaps there was more to these magical realms than he had thought.

"Thank you," Mer-mer purred humbly, nuzzling each of his newfound friends in turn. "I could not have done it without your help."

...Energized by his miraculous recovery, the cat's adventurous spirit surged anew. "Come, my brave companions! Our quest may have been thwarted, but there are countless other mysteries to unravel. I say we seek out the Crystal Caves of -..."

But before he could finish, a sleek black automobile pulled up to the crumbling mill. The engine's purr cut off abruptly, and out stepped a distinguished-looking tomcat wearing a pinstriped suit and a fedora.

"Father?" the newcomer called out, his voice a mix of concern and exasperation. "Are you out here telling tall tales to the local wildlife again?"

The rejuvenated cat's whiskers drooped slightly. "Ah, Sharp Moustache, my boy. What brings you all the way from the big city?"

Sharp Moustache adjusted his tie and sighed. "I've come to check on you, of course. The neighbors said you've been acting... eccentric lately."

The little white kitten piped up, "But we were just about to go on another grand adventure!"

Sharp Moustache's eyes widened as he took in the assembled group – the mice, the sparrow, and the eager kitten. He shook his head, a fond but worried expression on his face.

"Father, we've talked about this. Your storytelling is wonderful, but you can't keep running off into the woods. It's not safe for a cat of your... well, your former age."

Mer-mer bristled, his tail swishing. "Nonsense! Can't you see I'm as fit as a fiddle? Why, just moments ago, we battled a fearsome spirit guarding a magical portal!"

Suddenly the old cat wheezed and gasped for air, his once-proud frame now reduced to a frail and shrunken shadow. His eyes glazed over with sadness as he reminisced on his past glory and the cruel fate that had befallen him. 

"Don't speak, dad!" cried the young cat, fighting back tears. "You can't leave me alone in this harsh world." 

But the old cat could not be stopped, his hoarse voice continuing to recount tales of his former life. The young cat's heart broke at the sight of his father's suffering. 

"Here," he said, offering a jug of stolen milk from the miller. The old cat smiled bitterly as he sipped, knowing it was just another handout from a miserly existence. But then, an idea struck him in his delirium. 

"Fetch the old rug," Mer-mer commanded with determination. 

The old man had lost his mind, muttering to himself Sharp Mustache as he shuffled around the dusty floorboards. The young cat watched with wary curiosity, wondering what the old one was up to now.

"Give a knock," the young cat heard Mer-mer say, tapping on a hidden panel. There was a hollow sound from below, indicating that something was hidden underneath. The young cat's mind raced with thoughts of treasure and riches, but also caution and fear. Without hesitation, Mer-mer kicked open the boards and shouted for help in pulling out whatever was hidden inside.

 Sharp Moustache's heart quickened at the thought of finding valuable possessions buried beneath the floorboards. With Mer-mer's help, they finally opened a large jar that had been tightly sealed shut with a rusty padlock. But instead of gold or jewels, all they found were old clothes, musty and damp from years of being hidden away.

Sharp Moustache couldn't contain his disappointment, but Mer-mer suddenly slapped him hard on the neck in excitement. 

"This is a royal uniform!" he exclaimed. The revelation shocked Sharp Moustache, who couldn't believe they had stumbled upon such a valuable item. Memories flooded back to him - tales of the legendary captain D'artagnan and his brave Musketeers. But even so, Sharp Moustache couldn't understand why the old man would go through so much trouble to hide something like this.

Lost in his thoughts, the old man didn't respond right away until Mer-mer nudged him back to reality. 

"Come back to Earth, old man," Sharp Moustache said impatiently.

But then Mer-mer blurted out excitedly, "I was...D'artagnan!"

Sharp Moustache frowned in disbelief. "You're exaggerating a bit here," he scoffed. "Who hasn't heard of D'artagnan and his daring adventures?" 

The realization slowly dawned on him that the old cat was more than just a crazy old man - he was a legendary hero from the past.

Sharp Moustache stared at his father in stunned disbelief. The revelation hung heavy in the air between them. Mer-mer, the frail, sickly old cat who had raised him, was none other than the legendary D'artagnan himself - brave Musketeer, hero of the realm, a figure of myth and wonder. It seemed impossible, and yet, the proof was right there in his paws - the faded but unmistakable royal blue uniform with its silver buttons and proud fleur-de-lis emblem.

A thousand questions swirled in Sharp Moustache's mind. How had his father, the most celebrated warrior in the kingdom, ended up a penniless recluse, hiding away in this dilapidated old mill? What dark secrets lay buried in Mer-mer's past? And why reveal the truth now, after so many years of silence?

He opened his mouth to voice these burning inquiries, but the words died on his tongue as he took in the sight of his father. Mer-mer was deathly pale, his breaths coming in short, agonized gasps. A trickle of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, staining his matted fur a garish crimson. It was clear that the effort of unearthing his long-buried past had taken a terrible toll on the old cat's failing body.

"Father!" Sharp Moustache cried out in alarm, rushing to Mer-mer's side. He cradled the old cat's head in his lap, trying to make him more comfortable. "Don't try to talk. Save your strength. I'll fetch a doctor, some medicine..."

But Mer-mer shook his head weakly, a sad smile playing across his withered features. "No, my son," he rasped, each word an obvious struggle. "My time...grows short. The blade of death...hovers at my throat. There is so much...I must tell you...before I depart this mortal coil."

Sharp Moustache felt hot tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them back fiercely. He had to be strong now, for his father's sake. "I'm listening, dad," he said softly, giving Mer-mer's paw a gentle squeeze. "Tell me everything."