The Creatures that History Forgot
“Your majesty the tub has been filled. We are now ready to begin cleaning your wound.”
the servant called.
“I am coming.” Mom said as I watched her drag herself toward the sound of the servant
I followed hopi ng that by removing the dried blood that clung to my mother matted fur
that I would realize that everything was going to be alright. I peeked around the corner as the
servant pressed the steaming cloth to my mother’s leg as she pulled back her ears hissing
through her teeth. The wound was deep and a large tuff of thick fur was missing. It was no
longer bleeding yet it was swollen and it seemed off colored.
“I think it infected.” said the servant fearfully.
“Then disinfect it,” my mother growled as the servant pulled back her large ears, closing
her eyes in despair.
“I don’t have the means to disinfect it. I don’t know what to do.” the servant stated as I
turned away afraid of what to think. My ears dropped on their own accord as a mournful cry
erupted from my jaws.
There was a chance I would lose my mother, there was a chance that she would die. I got
up then ran to my room in an effort to escape from my mother, who would only ask me to state
my fear aloud. All four of my feet moved in sync in an effortless manner as I darted into my
room. Zabuza veered out of my way as I leap onto my bed. I pressed my face into the soft
material that muffled my cry.
I could not lose my mother when I had already lost my father. She was the only parent I
had left. I may not be too close to her because of the nature of her work but I knew she cared.
She may seem cold and see me as her successor but I knew she also saw me as her daughter. If
she died there would be no one left, who is close enough to see me as anything other as the
leader’s daughter. She was my mother and I could not bear lose her, to be left all alone.
A night has passed and my mom has come down with a fever. She has become too weak
even to pretend to be in good health. The Death Stalkers have come though I fear the only
purpose of their visit is to simply pay their last respects to their dying leader. All of the servants
are tending to her and the guards are whispering their fears in the halls. I fear my mom’s health
is declining and it is showing no signs of recovery. I fear soon I may truly be alone.
Zabuza meowed as one of my mother’s servants entered. She told me that my mother
wanted to speak with me and I feared she wished to cite her will. I climbed from my bed as the
servant bowed before exiting. Zabuza meowed sympathetically as I pat her on the head then
walked slowly down the hall, afraid of what I might find.
I edged down the hall passing a group of Death Stalkers on my way. They were whispering
near the corner. They ha d their backs to me as if they did not want to be seen. A high ranking
female, named Merula seemed to be doing most of the speaking.