The War That Shook the Earth

Love is no small thing in the supernatural world, even if the word is much different. Love in the supernatural world signifies a lifelong bond rather than a fleeting feeling. If you lose the one you love, it hurts less to simply flee the world and never return. For a vampire, life becomes tiring. If they have no person to love, then there is no purpose to life—not that we necessarily need a purpose to live. It just hurts to go on living without someone by your side to make it interesting. And when a vampire gets bored, entire civilizations could wind up burnt to the ground. Or you may never see their face again—either dead or waiting to die. Purebloods become bored easily, and often sleep for long periods of time. Hundreds or even thousands of years. If they are awoken from their slumber by someone they do not wish to see or do not know, the offender will become something like a midnight snack.

The supernatural world and the species in it are in a delicate balance of life or death, fight or flee, predator or prey. It is always a struggle to be on top. Everyone wants to be dominant over another. That was the first mistake the wolves made. Werewolves are prideful creatures, many supernatural species are. But wolves are veracious, and their alphas are never satisfied. Being an alpha means you are bigger than anyone else, stronger than anyone else, more valuable than anyone else. So why should there be anyone above you? Why does any other deserve life?

The betas aren’t much better, a bit more humble, yes, but if you remind them that a single being stands between them and position of ruling status, they can become somewhat feral. Reminding them of their place can receive a reaction that comes from a few extremes. You may be simply reminding them that they are higher than you—second in command is not a low position. You may also be reminding them that if the alpha were to somehow perish, they would be even higher on the pecking order. Or you could be reminding them that they are not the highest and there is someone much, much stronger than them to contend with.

Vampires are possibly more prideful as a whole. We are difficult for wolves to contend with and have created a partnership with dragons. It is hard for even an angel or demon to contend with us unless the challenger is high-ranked. Humans are as pitiful as rats beneath our feet—small and fragile and begging for the power we have. Pathetic really, isn’t it? And yet their nobles entitle themselves to what or whomever they desire. Humans deny our existence, thinking they are the dominant race. Of course you would think that, you pitifully weak beings. How could you not when, to you, nothing else exists unless it is a beast? You wouldn’t know what to do with these creatures of the night. We walk among you as we please, and those who know of our existence soon become our slaves or servants of their own volition. They beg to serve us, but why? They want the power in our blood—the youth and vitality it gives them. Humans truly are envious and greedy creatures.

Nekos. What are we? The very pets you call your own—the ones you purchase or adopt to keep the plague at bay. Is it the rats, or some kind of magic? All speculation among you humans isn't it? Such unintelligible creatures, and so we protect you. Heal your sick and shield you from ailment. We are stronger than you, but unlike the others, we are humble and submissive. Well, most of us are anyhow. Our soldiers would discard you like spoiled cream on a hot day. But do not worry, they only protect us from harm of other species that you have no knowledge of. Our armies are small but growing, right under the noses of our enemies. Too bad they don’t have the sense of smell we do. Maybe they would be able to sense our growing power if they did. For now, they dominate us, and we pray to the gods for better times ahead. We pray to the Ancients for the freedom we once had. For now we will welcome the homes our masters give us and welcome the warmth of food in our bellies.

Even slaves of the rod must be fed…

What would happen if the worst flaws of each of these three species converged on the same day? It would be as if the whole world were a room full of methane, waiting for a spark. That is exactly what happened, and the explosion was sparked by the wolves.

What happens when you attack a vampire’s favorite source of food? What happens when you attack a dragon’s slave factory? War. War at its worst. The wolves decided they wanted one of the few Neko societies for themselves. The one that they attacked was property of the vampires. It was claimed territory, and the attack was a disaster. The wolves were meant to ravage the city and steal any young girls they could find. They were met by warriors that towered over them, nearly doubling their height. The warriors that greeted them were well trained and fought with overwhelming strength. When they became injured, they would slink off to a nearby hut and return fully healed. The women were healing them, young and old, weak or sick. It was the first time my people had fought back and they did it well. The warriors fought as if they were seasoned veterans, with the grace and swiftness of a cheetah, but the strength of a tiger and the fierceness of a tiger.

Soon, more wolves arrived. They were too organized and too great in numbers. My people went down with their heads high and only stopped fighting when they could no longer stand. Their will kept going even after they were pummeled to the ground. They bit and tore at the legs of their assailants, even as their throats were ripped out, even as some wolves—perhaps ones who had become ravenous with hunger—began to eat them alive. Flesh and fur and muscle flying through the center of town, those who were not involved in the massacre hid in their homes. Once the battle turned against us, all doors were closed. Chests and wardrobes were pushed in front of the doorways and windows of the homes that were but small huts without shutters or proper doors.

The battle had ignited the feral instincts in the wolves. They had lost many, but the newly formed Neko army that had been sent to drive off the intruders was completely wiped out. When the wolves began running out of prey to hunt in the town centre, they flocked to the homes of the innocent mothers and kits. They spent no time on the wardrobes and chests. It was much easier for them to simply rip through the weak walls of the structures. The only survivors were some kits that had been hidden in small hollows under the earth and protected with charms. Other survivors were the few lucky ones who were of higher descent—they had powers the others didn’t. But they had nothing to combat the oncoming assault of wild animals, only force fields or enough healing ability to keep themselves alive. Some fled for the inner walls, in hopes of finding refuge behind them. The gates were closed long ago, once the wolves had been spotted on the horizon. Guards stood post in the towers, some in tears. It was the beginning of a new era for my people. This had been the first attack in generations and fear had driven the nobles and aristocrats to close off the inner city.

The wolves took no prisoners. Any feline who was unprotected became nothing more than a meal for the ravens and other carrion birds. Their mission had failed, and they only realized this as they left the city. Their fur was matted with the blood and muscle of innocent creatures. My kind had always lived in peace. We have always had pacifist views, and the protection of the species we served was greatly appreciated. Other species tended not to dare come near any city that was claimed, especially those claimed by succubi or dark angels. But motherless kits now wandered the bloodstained streets in search of their mothers or fathers. They found nothing but torn flesh and broken bones. The inner city gates opened immediately after the wolves were sure to be gone. Guards leapt down from their posts on the walls and scooped up any kits they found. They were commanded to put any that were severely injured out of their misery. Only injured males were taken along with the weak or young. The kits may not have known it, but they were all very lucky, because from then on, they became part of noble families. Given a life of peace and luxury. All the nobles were thought to be descended from the Ancients. They were all special, for their first shift had all been wild cats—whether it be a tiger or a panther or some other fierce cousin. None of it changes what those poor kits lost—what they experienced.

After that battle, life as they knew it changed. Life as my people knew it changed. The vampires came shortly after the battle. It only took a few days for word to get around about the attack. When the vampires came, they assessed the damage to the city and immediately put lower vampires to work to repair it. A few level B’s also stayed behind to protect the city and they notified other species of the attack. The nobles of the city convinced the representatives that a counterattack should be launched to track down the wolves that ravaged the city and slaughtered so many families.

To the vampires, it was a huge loss of servants and tasty meals. It was as if their entire crop had been destroyed. The lives weren’t valued, but my people were clever and fueled their anger. This counterattack, meant to put the wolves back in place, only brought a heavy hand of wrath on the Neko societies around the world. It was the beginning of a very dark time indeed. The wolves that sacked the city were killed and their tails and paws were sent to other clans as a message. It lashed back and instead made them angrier. Only one clan went into hiding and they have not been seen since.

There were more and more attacks on the cities where we took refuge as time went on. Until there were almost none of us left. Finally, one day, two large parties converged on a wide wasteland—one left over from a previous war. Calls were sent out for more to gather, whistles and howls and war cries of all kinds. More of each side gathered as the battle raged on. Blood covered the exposed dirt and what few patches of grass there were. Creatures of both kinds were ripped apart limb from limb as the days went by. There was no end in sight even after weeks of fighting. Both sides were feeding from their fallen enemies. Only vampires fed from their comrades, and finally one of the most valuable lives on the field passed on. The scent of his blood hit each nose like an out of control carriage. Every person stopped, then came the rage. Squeals and yelps rang out for miles. A pureblood life had been lost. With so few of them to begin with, this was not acceptable and drove each vampire to bloodlust. Some feasted on the fallen pureblood, in hopes of gaining power and ending this battle. The last wolf, a young male, found himself surrounded. One man saved his life by stepping out of the crowd and creating a path for his escape. His command instantly calmed the raging army. It sang of power and echoed on the field. Only a pureblood could have stopped the anger that was still lurking beneath their skins.

The war in total lasted three years, which is short to any supernatural being, but my family feels the effects to this very day. It ended in a treaty that the wolves were not to come near the societies and in exchange there would be no more bloodshed. For centuries, my people prayed for the return of the Ancients, but after this war, anything of the Ancients was all but forgotten. Only a few still remembered who created us. Only the very elderly still remembered our origins and carried on the legends. But, before our system became fully corrupt, something revolutionary happened to my kind.

It took us many generations to regain what we had lost and after a few centuries, we had a working military. Nothing too large, but enough to do what we needed. It would be enough to defend us. The vampires that were still in the cities were thrown out and we put up our own force fields. It came as a surprise to the vampire council. We had launched ourselves into yet another war, and of our own volition. This one lasted much longer. The very moment the vampires were expelled from the cities, they sent out calls for attacks to be launched. Dragons and vampires attacked the cities and burned those that had not put shields up yet. My home was hit particularly terribly. They had shields, but little knowledge of the full extent of their own power. It is known as the darkest time in our history, and it became a common topic among scribes and other writers. My people fought with all they had, but the force fields couldn’t be held for long before dragons came crashing through. Mothers lost kits, kits lost mothers, and everyone began to lose hope. Once the shields were broken, the vampires let the dragons do all the dirty work. They stepped back and let them pillage, and steal, and devour my people as their hearts desired. We are a dragon’s favorite midnight snack, and they had just been put in front of the largest dessert buffet they could ask for. Smoke filled our lungs and our skies, yet ice and snow covered our homes, and blood stained our paws red.

There was a point in time when the attacks became a regular occurrence and nekos simply began to live with them. You didn’t leave your home at night and always kept one ear pointed toward the sky. Those in the outskirts began camouflaging their tiny shelters to look natural from an aerial view and cluttered them together to prevent giving dragons a place to land. Some dug dens into the ground under rocks and trees and bushes. They survived the worst assault of all.

The attack lasted for nearly a full night and the majority of my kind were wiped out. Dragons, young and old, dove out of the sky in large groups. They smashed homes and swallowed all who crossed their path. Those who were torn apart before being eaten received mercy - mercy from being digested alive, and from suffocating in the hot, foul-smelling stomach of a beast. Kits were less than bite-sized, and warriors were nothing. My people are insignificant in battle with a dragon. We stood no chance against the fire and ice raining down on our city. Everywhere you turned you saw nothing but death. As the night waged on, my city became barren of any sign of life. The blue moon shining down on the flames and crystals was now a means for fear. It became known as the night swarms of dragons come out to feed, searching for us as their favorite treat. As the sun rose on the eastern horizon, the dragons left. It was as if the first rays from the sun that shone on the carnage of their feast was their signal to return home.

It was soon understood that they had eaten mostly males, for the majority of the pieces of bodies found were masculine. They had taken nearly 200 young females from our city alone, for their harems it was assumed. That assumption was not confirmed until much later, but deep down my people knew. They knew there was no question of the fate of those young women. The elderly seemed to have been spat back out as if they were poison. They were mangled and crushed, but lying on the ground in large puddles of saliva and covered in drool. There were no children left this time; they were either taken or eaten. But they were all gone. Our warriors were no more, either. We had no militia left to defend ourselves and the fate of my entire species looked very bleak. You could only see one group marching across the open fields. They carried flags and rode on horses and wore armor. They were coming our way at a relaxed pace. Whoever it was knew that we were a broken society, but all my people could do was wait. They waited for whatever this group would bring, because surely, nothing they did could worsen our condition now. We wanted it to end, whether it be in the last bit of bloodshed, or in life. Either way would be peaceful.

When the group reached the walls, the horses stopped and a group of six entered what used to be the outer gates. They stepped over mangled bodies and yowling citizens with little care. Seeing this meant nothing to them. Why? Couldn’t they see what they were carelessly stepping over. My people were simply stones in their path—ones not suitable for even walking on. The wailing from the city rang out in the silence around around us. It filled the air for miles. And these heathens were not concerned in the slightest. But they were vampires, come to take the last of our hope it seemed. Then they presented us with a treaty. It weighed strongly in their favor, but it would end this suffering. The treaty was a milder version of what we had wished to escape from. It entailed that the two kinds would live with minimal contact, but gave them the right to still hold some of our kind as pets if they so wished. They would have to pay for us, now. But those they currently held, would remain in captivity. It gave the right to dragons as well, but stated no punishment for a dragon stealing a neko. My kind were told that vampires did not hold the right to make that decision, but the nekos signed that treaty the moment they understood it. The treaty was an end to the misery of my people, even if vampires benefited much more from it.

My home was never the same after this. Each city developed on its own, and in its own way. Mine became horribly corrupt. We lost sight of where we came from. We lost sight of our ancestors and even the stories about our own creators became corrupt. The kind and brave lion became a harem master and a womanizer. The loyal and fierce tiger that stood poised at his right hand became a prideful god of perfection. And most terrible of all, the lion’s mate was forgotten. She was left out of the legends, but that lion had magnificent windows created with his image stained on them. He was depicted sitting on a throne covered in the furs of multiple creatures with a smirk plastered onto his face, females surrounding him with stars in their eyes and a few even kneeling at his feet. Few remembered the Ancients, and none remembered their true stories. They were depicted as gods, but I suppose in a way they were. They were our origin, but this… is our beginning.