There are some who feel that what they can touch and feel is all there is to the world. And then there are those, like the ones you'll meet in this story, who knows that there are more between earth and sky than they'll ever know.

He looked out at the street, the wind was blowing the trash from the asphalt, and the rain washed the pavement clean.
"I feel a sadness in the air," he said. "A sense of loss. It is looking for something."
"Looking for what?" a voice said behind him. The speaker seemed to flow into the crook of his arm, motions mimicking his like a shadow.
"I'm not sure, but I think we should be prepared."
As the two stood motionless, watching the wind and rain, another was also looking at the streets. His deep-set eyes twinkled under his bushy eyebrows, and his teeth flashed as a lightning shot across the sky. The shadows along the walls rippled and revealed itself as dozens of rats.
"I can feel you, my boy. Feel you in the tapestry of the city." He turned from the door, and the rats shrank back as he entered the room.
"No matter where you run, my eyes and ears will soon find you." A silent laughter made the rats shiver.

In the streets, the object of all this interest had no care for anything but its immediate future. As it crossed a pool of light, an observer could have seen that it was a kitten. A rainwhipped, black and white kitten. His thoughts had long since lost all cohesion, and the only thing that kept him going was his instincts. Luckily, he didn't have to rely on feline instincts alone, he could also draw security from his secrets. In his head, the only words he could make out among the pictures that flashed and disappeared was a monotone sentence. "The two who are one will set us free. The two who are one will set us free. The two..."
If he had been asked about the two, he wouldn't know what to say. They had always been a source of comfort and strength, yet he had never laid eyes on anyone who fit the images in his mind. He cast the words out, like a net in the storm, and for a brief moment he felt an answer. Then the presence, the dark shadow that made his mind feel so cold, slashed out again, and severed the net. The answering touch disappeared, but the minute touch had given him new directions, and he stumbled on.

The one could hear a cry for help, and the other had also sensed it. They moved as one, back to the door. “We must go to him,” said the other, and he could feel her meaning in his mind at the same time his ears heard the words.
“No,” he said, “he must make his own way. But we are allowed to lift the shadow from his shoulders.”
“Then we must do so.” The other turned away, and the one followed. This was her part of the mysteries, he was merely the strength she leaned on. They stood still for a few seconds, then she stretched her self, her innermost being, out into the city, searching for the shadow’s mind and self.
The one felt the tell-tale shivers that announced the other’s success. Her mind recoiled from the shadow’s, but she reached out to the one, and the sense of his presence, in mind as well as in body, gave her strength and faith. The shadow twitched, but hadn’t noticed the invasion. The other turned to the one, and with a smile she searched for his approval. He gave her this, in mind and in manners, her expertise never ceased to amaze him. Never would he be able to intrude as easily on another’s mind.
“What shall we do now?” She asked, giving him the opportunity to decide. Normally, she would have known, through their bond, what he wanted, and they would have reached a consensus before the question could have been asked. Now, the one didn’t want anything, he merely did what needed doing, without thought to right or wrong. None of these needs traveled the bond, and the other felt alone in the darkness. Her fears were banished only a moment later, as certainty filled his mind, and in turn, hers.
They smiled in unison, and lifted their faces to the nightsky, defying the thunder and the lightning, refusing the shadow his hold on his prey.

The kitten felt the effect immediately, and his thoughts began to unscramble. His mind still felt like a jigsaw puzzle, the pieces scattered, but now his self, what made him him, rose from the muddy waters and took on shape. His name was among the first to return.
“I am,” he thought, “I am Pirate. I am Mako. I am Maelora.”
With the name came memories. Memories he just as soon could have done without. The sounds of his brothers and sisters as the bag went under for the last time. His mother’s scream when her kittens’ fates were clear. The pain of being alone. Of being the survivor. Memories of floating under the docks, climbing from the water, feeling claws ripped loose as the waves pounded him against the poles.
With the memories, there came a sense of self that included flesh. Not only a mind, but a living body to keep it in. He could feel the hurt in his paws, the tears in his skin, the pain in his chest. And yet, despite the aches and loss, he felt a happiness, a sense of coming home. The rain didn’t scour his back anymore, and the cold winds seemed to die. The lights from windows and lampposts beckoned him onwards. Into a junkyard filled with the city’s lost things. The kitten could feel someone watching him, and as he looked around, he saw two shapes silhouetted against the light from an oncoming car. The silhouettes melted together as they moved towards him, looking like a cat and his shadow, or perhaps two shadows taking turn being reality.
As the shapes reached him they split apart and watched him from two sides.
“I am Coricopat,” said the one.
“I am Tantomile,” said the other.
“I am Mako,” he answered, and knew he had found the two who are one.
 

EPILOGUE.

The shadow looked out the window, and shook his head. “You were lucky this time, but I can wait. A mind like yours could be very valuable to me indeed.” He jumped down from the windowsill, and flashed a grin at the rats, making them scramble from his path.
“Next time, we’ll see what you can do without those mindstealers to help you.”
His laughter echoed from the roofbeams filling the warehouse with a sense of dread.
“Until the next time, Maelora.”