Mythlands: Mythical Origins

7. These Unnatural Urges

*This story takes place within a few weeks of The Convention of Cats, following the return from Myth Vegas of King Felis and his fellow Merryland cats to the Valley of Pussycats.

The King had returned and was safely ensconced behind the doors of Number 1, the biggest house in the row. He had dismissed his personal servants for the night and retired to his private chambers.

'How much longer can I go on?' he muttered while staring at his reflection in his large mirror. The proud noble features of a Maltese cat, stared back at him, the yellow eyes sad. He was by far the biggest cat in all the valley ... in all Merryland in fact. Perhaps he was even the largest feline in the Greater Ozian Sphere, of which Merryland was a vassal state. Excepting actual big cats such as the Hungry Tiger, the Cowardly Lion and their ilk. Felis was a regular cat but almost as large and with his stature came certain ... assumptions.

The King was seen as the strongest, the noblest and the most macho. He was strong, he was noble he hoped, but ... Felis let out a groan. If his people knew the truth, if the Queen of Merryland were to suspect or, heavens forfend, if Ozma were to learn his secret! His was a most precarious position indeed.

The great Maltese, king of cats, he who knew few peers in all the cat communities of the Mythlands ... The Glass Cat and The Cheshire Cat but even they did not have the title of royalty ... and yet, their admiration and respect would soon turn to disdain if they were to learn his disgusting, despicable secret.

These urges ... these unnatural urges, had been building for decades. At first he resisted them but that course of action gave him no solace. Several times Felis's thoughts had turned to suicide and he had once even swallowed a load of pills before thinking better of it and retching the whole lot up.

A decade ago the king started to weaken and give in to his thoughts and feelings; he did so in secret, behind closed doors and for a while he felt better but more and more his shame had fought against his growing compulsion to declare himself and to be his true, proud authentic self.

Caution and a sense of self preservation always stopped him. At best he would be forced to abdicate and he couldn't say for sure that his loving subjects, who adored the false image he represented to them, wouldn't turn into a yowling mob and drive him from the valley, making him a loathed and shunned outcast forced to wander the Mythlands looking for a place where he could be accepted.

Sometimes Felis thought the best thing for him was to leave. He had been cheered by certain television programs from the mortal realms that told him humans there were going through the same thing he was. Surely there were places in the Mythlands where he would find others like him and could stand tall and proud and free. His true authentic self.

But what with all the recent turmoil, he found he couldn't abandon his duties as monarch. Oz was going to war with Elephantland and Merryland would find itself dragged into the conflict. His people needed him.

Perhaps all he needed was just one confidant. His cousin Mrs Tabby was a gentle, loving and fair minded cat. If he told her then maybe ...

No, he couldn't risk it! It would only take one unsympathetic CisCat discovering his secret and he could lose everything!

Felis looked at himself in the mirror and spoke quietly. 'Woof.' He attempted to wag his tail and for a moment all his troubles melted away and he relaxed. 'I am a dog!' he said and for one brief moment he felt at peace.