Forging A New Path

By Deborah Bainbridge

Phezznibbet rested his elbows on the church tower windowsill, staring into the boughs of a giant maple. A light breeze caressed his fur as he dreamed of a quiet life running a treetop inn, a hint of smile tugging at his lips. Out of habit, his finger jolted to the dark scar that traced a deep groove down his right brow and across his snout. The harsh reminder darkened his thoughts, and he swallowed the swelling sorrow.

In a flicker, a large tan cat with black streaks and a bobbed tail sprinted through the trees, rousing him.

“Zandari scum!” Phezz nocked an arrow from his quiver then watched the creature’s muscular limbs extend, maximizing each stride, its slender body twice the length of Phezz’s frame. With a controlled exhale, he released the string. The arrow skimmed the Zandari’s pointed ear and sank into a redwood trunk.

Phezz rang the warning bell and raced down the stairs from his post to the outer church courtyard, his left paw instinctively moving to the knives in his bandolier. Spotting General Nik, he straightened abruptly, balancing with his long, fluffy tail, and saluted. “General.”

“At ease. I came to pray to the Alpha, but I suppose I’m on duty now.” General Nik wove his large red ear tufts through the holes in his metal helmet. “As my best archer, you’ll remain here. Besides, the young soldiers need a chance to prove themselves.” His whiskers twitched. “Surely you remember.”

Phezz scowled, relaxing his shoulders. “Young and naïve. Probably still think they can save the world. I’m older now. More skeptical.” His ears shivered as twigs crunched beneath trampling paws. Dressed in buckskin vests and steel helmets, the firebrand archers assumed formation, their fire-resistant fur blazing red in the sunlight.

“Attention!” General Nik inspected the squads. “A Zandari soldier has invaded our lands. He may not be alone. Explore your sectors and bring our enemy to me. Honor the Alpha! Ideally—survive!”

The firebrands saluted. “Honor! Survive!”

As they scattered, General Nik patted the Star of Protection on Phezz’s shoulder, breaking his long stare. “The Battle of Cush was ten years ago, yet you still bear its weight.”

“If I hadn’t stuck my muzzle in, maybe—”

“Cush was the worst tyrant to lead the Zandari, his bloodlust unbridled. You moved like lightning that day, protecting a brother-in-arms. Cush barely had time to blink before you had a dagger at his throat.”

“But, sir, after that—”

“No action of yours could’ve prevented the battle. You saved many lives that day.”

Phezz hung his head. “Many were lost.”

“An ugly truth of war.”

If only I’d died with them. If only the nightmares would stop.

“Sir!” A squad leader scurried forward, his soldiers following closely behind, Zandari prisoner in tow. “We found him drinking at Kam Lake. He’s weak.”

General Nik eyed the large bobcat. “Who are you and why have you come down from the mountains?”

“I’m Dax, and I came for your help.”

Phezz scoffed. “Why would we help you?”

The Zandari glared. “My people are dying. Yours are excellent swimmers with a reputation for mercy. King Nimrod blames your people for poisoning Morda Lake. Hunger to avenge his father blinds him.” Dax gulped. “He is coming.”

“General!” A firebrand scout shouted. “Nimrod’s army approaches!”

“Take Dax inside,” Nik ordered. “Archers, to the trees!”

With quick precision, the soldiers obeyed as an army of bobcats broke the forest line.

With long, silent strides, Nimrod’s army stalked forward, swords unsheathed, and halted before the church.

A wicked grin scrawled across Nimrod’s face. “Traitors are executed. Bring me the defector.”

“Dax is under Xintixa hospitality.” General Nik gestured toward the church. “We know of the Zandari’s plight. While not responsible, we’d be willing to search for the source of the contamination. Our races may be enemies, but we’re also neighbors.”

The bobcat soldiers lowered their weapons, earning a bitter roar from Nimrod. “Mighty Zandari do not negotiate with vermin. We’ll take the water we want. Retribution for my father’s death will just be a bonus.”

General Nik pointed upward. “There is an arrow trained at every one of your heads. History is doomed to repeat itself unless we forge a new path.”

“An alliance with squirrels? Ha!”

Phezz balled his fists. “You’d sign your people’s death sentences like your father did?”

“Quiet!” Nimrod bared his teeth, pointing at Phezz. “Unless you wish to take Dax’s place.” With a mighty leap, Nimrod sailed above the Xintixa soldiers and into the church. The impact of his landing shook the torches illuminating the hallway, causing one to crash against a wall tapestry. Flames spread quickly, igniting the thatched roof.

“No!” Phezz howled.

The structure groaned and cracked. Nimrod turned to run, but the beams fell inward, trapping him.

The Zandari soldiers shrank back at the sound of screams. Phezz cursed and nodded toward Nik. “Looks like I’m forging a new path.”

Phezz ran into the church, seven firebrands following closely behind, their fur untouched by the flames. Together, they lifted the heavy beams trapping Dax and Nimrod, then carried the Zandari out of the building.

As Phezz rolled Nimrod on the ground to extinguish the flames, the Zandari choked out, “Why would you save me?”

“The Alpha says all life is precious,” Phezz murmured. “Even yours.”

A tear streaked through Nimrod’s fur, and his yellow eyes glanced away. “My own father would have let me burn for my weakness. Death before dishonor.”

“Perhaps there is strength in mercy, also,” Phezz proposed.

General Nik knelt next to Nimrod. “You possess the strength to choose a different direction for your people, but it will take great courage.”

“But, your church—” Nimrod protested.

“The Alpha is not bound by walls. However, we welcome the strength of the Zandari to rebuild.” General Nik extended his claws toward Nimrod, then retracted them.

Nimrod hesitated, then replicated the symbol of peace.

Phezz drew the first real breath he’d taken in years. It is finished.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Deborah Bainbridge is a Christian, wife, and mother who enjoys running, traveling the world, writing short stories, and cookies. Her genres of choice include mystery, thriller, and speculative fiction. Throughout her life, she has been inspired by J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, J.K. Rowling, and Suzanne Collins. She is thankful to her friends and family for their encouragement and to her husband for his unwavering support.

---

More Stories | Facebook | Instagram