BekkaNeko looked up at the huge dragon skeleton in the museum lobby. Her ancient history class had come to the Fenwick Museum, built on the site of Fenwick Castle. Some of the original castle still stood, and now housed several exhibits, but most of the out buildings had long ago decayed. Now new structures had been build over their long lost foundations, and the museum had taken over.
BekkaNeko looked at the dragon’s skull, the teeth were huge and sharp, the two fangs about the size of her forearm. She tried to imagine facing you with nothing more than a shirt of steel links, a sword, and a shield. She shuddered, lashing her purple furred tail. Even thought it had been dead for several hundred years, this monstrous thing still made her uneasy. She looked through the bones of the rib cage, and spotted the dragon’s soul. The spherical rock hung from fine wires, like the rest of the bones. The stone, called an Energist, hung in the center of the dragon’s chest, just behind where its heart would have been, were it still alive. Like the dragon, the Energist was a cold gray, dead.
The cute elf working at the counter looked at her school pass, then at her and winked. She would might have winked back if he wasn’t so much older then her. But then again, you could never really tell with elves. She just smiled.
The teacher, Miss Vaughan, called them through the lobby and out the back doors. They walked across the old courtyard, still paved with the original cobblestones, to the largest part of the surviving castle, the ancient keep itself. In the warm sunlight of early fall, the fresh air was wonderful. BekkaNeko shook her head and her purple hair fluttered in the breeze.
She looked around at the rest of her history class. Of course, it as mostly human, with a pair of elves, brother and sister, and two other catgirls like her self. One of those was her littermate, ReaNeko, whose ears were swiveling about, following the sounds of birds in the trees nearby. The wind ruffled ReaNeko’s long, light brown hair, sweeping it into her face. She shook it back, twitching her ears, and followed Miss Vaughan up the steps and into the keep.
As BekkaNeko watched, she noticed several of the young men watching her sister as she walked up the steps, no doubt trying to peek up the short skirt that was part of their school uniform. Of course, she realized that if the boys were probably going to wait for her to go up the stairs as well, in hopes of looking up her pleated blue skirt as well.
The castle was decorated in much the same way it would have been during the last days of the Furvert Empire. Tapestries hung along the stone walls, only now they each had a small white placard with information about them mounted on the wall next to them.
The class was taken into the throne room, near the center of the first floor. The room was dominated by glass display cases along the walls, each one holding several relics from those days. Suits of finely made armor, swords, spears, wands, jewelry, and old books sat there, ready to be viewed by curious students.
“Class, who can tell us what is was so important about Fenwick Castle during the Revolution?" Miss Vaughan asked, her voice magnified by the stone walls and high ceiling. BekkaNeko was about to open her mouth to answer, but the class brain, Ayria Westa, beat her to it. Surprisingly, Ayria was the third catgirl. As much as she hated to, BekkaNeko had to admit that the catgirl reputation for being a bit mentally inconsistent was justified. For the most part. Of the 29 catgirls in her primary school class, only 4 of them had opted to continue their education with secondary school, in hopes of finally going to University.
“This is were the Rebellion formally started. This is were Merel and Riah came to warn Lord Fenwick about the approaching army from Furvert." Ayria said, taking off her glasses and cleaning them with a white handkerchief from her stylishly small purse. BekkaNeko looked at Ayria for a moment. While in general, catgirls tended to be more attractive than human women, at least on par with elven women, Ayria was rather plain, almost homely, even without her large glasses on.
“That’s right. The Duchy of Fenwick was the last independent nation on the continent, and Emperor Furvert was planning to invade and bring the whole of the known world under his control." Miss Vaughan turned and pointed to the glass case on dais between the large thrones, “Call you tell us what that is??Ayria put her glasses back on. “Yes, ma’am. That’s a sword. I’m not sure why it’s up there though. I should think that it would belong over with the other weapons and armor.
“Can anyone else tell us what is so special about this sword?? Miss Vaughan asked hopefully, standing on her toes to look across at everyone.
BekkaNeko looked up at the sword. She couldn’t decide whether it was frighteningly beautiful, or just scary looking. The blade was straight, double edged, and plain. The pommel and hilt were made from a dark, almost black metal, and polished to a mirror sheen. There were two curving, hooked parts near the blade that reminded her of a bird’s talons, as did the curved ends of the hilt. The grip was large enough for two hands, diamond-wrapped with black cloth, with something white underneath.
“That’s Emperor Furvert’s sword, Daeghrefn. That’s the sword that killed Vagor?" someone said. The catgirls ears swiveled to find the voice before they turned to look. The rest of the class turned as well, slightly slower. The speaker was a elf, tall for his kind, nearly six feet. His long blond hair hung just past hs shoulders.
BekkaNeko noticed that he was the only man in the room not wearing the high-necked black suit that was the boy’s uniform. There was something cold about him, BekkaNeko found herself thinking that he was much like the sword. She was unsure of him. Her tail puffed a little and began to lazily drift back and forth, the tip flicking with each slow arc.
“Yes, that is correct, but I was hoping one of my students would know," Miss Vaughan said. BekkaNeko could hear from her voice that they were sharing the same reaction to this person.