Unchosen Champion

When Coop woke up, he had the vague impression that something was missing. It was like his subconscious was trying to tell him that the situation wasn’t quite right, but exactly what was lost to his dreams. After a moment of confusion while staring at the wooden beams in the ceiling, he realized that the steady purring snores from Jett were absent. He was groggy from a late night experimenting with the Legacy of the Mists, but the missing cat startled him awake.

At first, he was worried she had run into some trouble during her nightly patrols and might even need his help, but if there was one resident of Ghost Reef that they didn’t need to worry about, it was Jett. The black cat who controlled the shadows of their territory was probably the most formidable duelist in the settlement, even when including the overleveled Coop. Still, her absence was enough of a wake-up call to get him moving.

After a few moments of frantic contemplation, going through various possibilities of where he should go, Coop threw the covers off and ran up the steps to the lightroom, taking them two at a time and hoping he wasn’t too late.

The lighthouse had picked up an intruder in the cockatiel, and even though Coop had half-heartedly warned the bird of the danger it was taking by entering the lighthouse, he wasn’t sure if he had really done the threat justice or if the bird even comprehended heads-up. Jett was responsible for keeping pests out of the lighthouse in the past, and she had been an efficient and hypervigilant exterminator for decades before Coop had arrived.

When he breached the threshold of the lightroom, he came face-to-face with a startled cat, silhouetted by the dawn light. Jett was an undefined black mass against the panoramic sunrise while Coop’s eyes struggled to adjust to the brilliance of the sun reflecting off of the ocean all along the horizon, but her wide gold-yellow eyes blinked once, providing enough context to figure out what she was doing. She was laying on her back, underneath the edge of the light stand, staring back at Coop from her flipped perspective. Above her, the spectral cockatiel paced back and forth on a black iron rod that stabilized the light, still in one piece, appearing mostly unharried.

Jett tenderly pawed at the bird’s tail feathers, as they danced above her, with a few gentle swats before she rolled back onto her feet, stretched, and yawned. Coop had gotten himself all worked up for nothing, but he was happy to be mistaken. It seemed like Jett had become a bit more relaxed in her retirement, leaving some of her old responsibilities to Coop and allowing him to invite guests into her territory. He should have known, given all of the other residents they had accumulated over the previous weeks that she had refrained from slicing up.

She went down the stairs without any fanfare, leaving Coop and the bird alone. He felt bad about interrupting their playtime, but Coop was especially glad he didn’t find the cat with feathers sticking out of her mouth. He would have felt intensely guilty if he had.

“Crisis averted, huh Birdie?” Coop asked, mostly to himself. The bird’s crown feathers fanned up, but he didn’t get any response otherwise. It was nice that the previously elderly cat was feeling playful.

Coop shook his head and followed Jett’s path back down the spiraling stairs. By the time he reached his bedroom, she was already making herself comfortable where he had previously hibernated, not letting the warmth be wasted. With the cat claiming his bed, everything was as it should be.

He sighed and went the rest of the way down, feeling tired again after waking with such anxious thoughts. Luckily, Sunny was always ready to start the day, and cheerfully encouraged Coop to hurry up and get outside.

A brisk jog with the retriever and an even brisker shower after, Coop sat with Marcus inside the Clumsy Shark at a table near the always stoked fireplace. Only a few other tables were occupied for breakfast, but Marcus had arrived early to claim one in the cozy tavern anyway.

Desmond promptly served the experiment of the day, giving Coop a firm nod that somehow communicated ‘good morning’ and ‘enjoy the meal’ all in one gesture. This time, Coop was able to try the devilish bartender’s experimental breakfast burritos. They looked as one would expect, avoiding any alien colors, but the filling was almost like a thick tomatoey stew. It wasn’t bad for a hearty breakfast. Desmond never missed, as far as Coop was concerned, and he paid his compliments to the chef.