Here's the promised Character Lore! I put in a separate project because of how long it got. It's recommended that you read the lore first, before viewing the artwork so you can experience the story as intended! (It's really long sorry) —————————————————————————— The Character and his Lore A cream tomcat with a patchwork of different shades of brown and gray flowing from his head, across his shoulders and along his side sat on a cliff side by the sea. With spray tickling his nose and eyes, he watched the essence of the sea. Today it was churning and twisting, as if it was revolting against a terrible evil lurking within and around it. Occasionally bright bolts of gold shot into the murky dark gray cloud in the midst of the protesting swirls of cerulean. He wondered, how had he gotten here? All alone. Preparing to fight an unstable, unnatural force so strong it could hold even Death themself hostage and keep Life at bay. Really it had all started centuries ago, he mused, when he had only been a child. He had long since forgotten his name from then, but he was certain that he had indeed had one. He'd had a mother, after all, and she must have given him one. She'd loved him very much, despite the fact that he was... an unusual child. Even by supernatural standards. He was born completely blind, but with the ability to see the magical essence, or aura of all matter. So really, he wasn't blind at all. His vision was that of a colorful, dynamic world. That also meant that he could see ghosts, or the souls of deceased creatures, with perfect clarity and hear their words. In his early years, he had preferred to spend his time alone; observing, and learning how to read the magical essences. When understood properly, they can tell one secrets of the world and serve as an early warning for danger to come. It was during his youth that he came across his first ghost and first friend (the other animals his age were told by their parents to "stay away from that... odd child" ). He had his mother, of course, but it was different to have a real friend your own age. One day he'd been playing with sticks and rocks when a brilliant blue light washed over him. He had looked up to see the ghost of a kitten his own age peering curiously at him. When his gaze me their's they started and yelped, "You can see me!?" "I suppose so." He'd replied, his own eyes wide with wonder. "My name is ... Who are you? What are you doing here?" "I'm Nutmeg! I'm dead... I- I um..." Nutmeg sunk to the ground, burying his face in their paws. "I was lonely... Nobody can see me. Not momma or poppa or Pepper. They're all so sad. I didn't want to be dead..." They were shaking with sobs now. The other kitten was so surprised that he just sat there for a moment. Then he remembered what his mom always did when he was sad. He scooted over and put his paws around the ghost as best as he could without falling through them. "I'm sorry... Is there anything I can do?" "No..." Nutmeg sniffled. There was a long gap of silence, then they spoke again. "Actually... can I... can I stay with you?" "For as long as you want." The other replied immediately. And that was how he made his first, best, and longest friend. Several more happy years passed until one day, when he was 12 years old, his mother went missing during one of her trips to the city. He hadn't noticed anything was off yet, but soon he saw a change in the wind and the very foundation and gardens of their happy home on the edge of the village. It seemed to dull, then hold it's breath before letting it out with a rumbling whoosh. It was no longer warm and inviting but disonent and hollow. Nutmeg quickly flowed out with a startled expression. "Something's happened. Something bad." The other called to the ghost. Nutmeg nodded. "Your mother... It's like the house rid itself of her presence." And it was true. While scraps of his mother's essence laid around like stale scents, it was no longer woven vibrantly into the walls and the garden of the house. "We need to find her!" He insisted, standing up. "She'll be able to fix it." He matched into the woods too fast to see Nutmeg's expression of hopelessness. For ghosts were far more sensitive to magical currents than any living cat could be and they had felt something which caused them to fear what the pair might find in the woods. And they were right. The young cat stared unbelievingly at the body of his mother. It was covered in bright crisscrosses of her essence, which leaked out and over his paws. Even as he watched, it withdrew from her limbs and tightened into a cooling ball in her chest. Her soul, still bound to her body and unaware of her son trembling beside her and his solemnly silent friend. It was there that Death found him. Now usually Death was used to grieving family members clinging g to their loved ones. What they weren't used to was for a skinny, gangly adolescent feline to stare them right in the eyes and challenge them.
"Excuse me?" They said in a rich, deep voice. "I said, get away! Go! Leave her be!" The feline spat. "Well. This is an intriguing situation. The most exciting thing of this century, I think." They mused. "You. A mortal child with strong spirit sight, can see /me/. Death. An ancient god. Without me revealing myself to you. Oh what a delightful opportunity!" They chuckled to themself. Then all humor and good-natured manners withdrew from their face and we're replaced with intensity and calculation. "Say... you want to keep your mother's soul safe kid. Well I can offer her a permanent place in my personal court. And a way for you to visit her every day. So let's make a deal, kid." Death held out a paw. "You work for me. I've been needing an assistant to round up pesky spirits who leave their bodies before I can collect them-" they shot a look at the cowering Nutmeg before continuing. "In return you get eternal life and your mother's soul stays safe where you can see her. I'll even let your little friend tag along if he's important to you. A pretty sweet deal if I do say so. It would be... a bad idea for you to decline. People who meet with Gods often... Disappear without reason. It really would be a shame if that happens to such a cute little kid like you." Death's voice was friendly but laced with an unmistakable threatening undertone. It was clear that they were being generous and wouldn't take kindly to being turned down. "Right then. I accept." He voice shook with grief and shock and a hundred other emotions that he couldn't discern. And that was how his career as the warden of ghosts began. Later on, his title became his name. The Warden, or as his friends called him: Warden. He only ever got one more constant friend. A rebellious feline ghost called Penny, who caused huge trouble all over until she finally promised to be obedient as long as she could travel with Warden and Nutmeg. Oh, and for the situation at the start? Well that's not my tale to tell. But perhaps one day when the Bloodmoon rises, Warden will gather the village children around and tell a story of an unlikely hero and a rather angry, little mouse. The end Oh boy I'm tired. Sorry for writing so much! It's pretty choppy because I was trying to keep it as short as possible. Also in the art, below Penny and Nutmeg are what they looked like when they were alive.
