Caera had not been born, she had been created. Not a child of love or foolishness, but a creature created for a sole purpose; a purpose she had yet to discover. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing, being brought to life from someone's blood, sweat and tears, if the intentions behind it were clear. Instead of being twisted and formed from the shadows that plagued the jungle at night and engulfed unsuspecting creatures, had she been made by rays of light, would she have had a better chance at happiness? Would she have been deserving of a life of a normal child? Perhaps she would have, but the young child was much too far along her path of corruption to be able to go back.
The moment she had been introduced to the members of The Cartel was the beginning of her end. The jungle territory represented the creatures that lived amongst it; an unwelcoming aura that chilled you to your bones, sharp claws waiting around each corner to claim another body for the trees, and an unforgiving heart. The Cartellians were ruthless and wanting blood but without direction. They were the ones that started her along the twisted and rocky path, the ones who solidified the seeds of evil within her. They were the ones who ruined her.
But she loved them more than she loved anyone else. They were her Crew, her family, the ones who raised her the best they could. It wasn't their fault for what would eventually happen to her; fighting and death were all they knew. Living in a world that only wanted to wipe you out, you had to learn to fight back and overcome even the greatest hardships. That's what they taught her each time she had a fighting lesson, had to watch an innocent be slaughtered, or saw a rotting corpse hanging from one of the many trees. She knew of no other way to live, knew not of the lives of luxury and assured safety the other clans knew, so she strived to be like them. Caera wanted to be tough, persistent, and deadly just like her Crew- but most importantly, the child wanted them to be proud of her.
The Cartel taught her many other things, as well. Everyone taught her how lovely family was, how great it felt to be loved and to love someone, what happiness felt like. She got candies, shiny objects that she would collect and decorate her room with, and she got the honour of becoming close with some members of her Crew. Her childhood was dark and filled with blood, but it was one she enjoyed. As she grew older (even if her body would not), she found herself needing to be taught less and even teaching others things. Though, she was still a naive child and one thing she had to learn the hard way- to trust was to be betrayed.
It started with Radioactiveplague. The feline who had brought her into this world, the Lord of Purgatory himself, disappeared. He had become a rare sight in The Cartel, spending most days in Shadowclan, but one day he didn't come home. She wished- no, she prayed- that he would return to her, or that one of her trips to Shadowclan would be fruitful and he would be there to greet her. Yet months passed and the strangely-marked feline never returned. She was left alone in a cruel world that only wanted her dead without a father to guide her. The faces of her Crew became meaningless as, for the first time, she discovered how lonely this world was.
She had wanted a parental figure so badly after the disappearance of her father that she had clung to Selfdestruction after first meeting the Skulls' leader. The feline had seemed like a Goddess in her eyes; she listened to her, taught her how to fight, and guided her on the ways she led The Cartel. She was all she had hoped for and more. Then, Selfdestruction had crushed her. Caera, in her awestruck world, had failed to see the menace hidden behind each of the feline's words. She had only used her as a way to get back at The Cartel for hurting her long ago, destroying Caera's life so that she could pretend hers was alright.
They kept coming after that. Theo, her best friend; she had wiggled her way into the sheep-dog's heart, then left for Sunclan without even saying goodbye to her. Pippa, who had challenged her from the beginning and tried to kill her in the end. Inortis, who she had seen so much promise in and then he had disappeared. Xael, who hadn't even tried to save her from The Exiles. Feliks, who had done so much but was turning everyone against The Cartel. King George, someone she thought she could trust and look to for guidance; he had chosen wrong and started a war, then he had done everything he could so that she would die in The Exiles. The young Godmother had ripped his throat out in a public meeting as punishment, but the sight of him falling to the ground, a bloodied and empty corpse, still brought the sting of tears to her eyes. They were all parasites, gnawing at her heart until there was nothing left to sustain her.
It was only after she had suffered at the cruel jaws of Duchess, feeling her eye ripped from it's socket and limb torn from it's limb, that she learned her lesson. After all she had done for The Cartel, they had all left her in The Exiles to die a cruel and torturous death. She had grown up with them guiding her, had read the little ones bedtimes stories, had held funerals for her fallen Crew members, and they abandoned her without a second thought. Even Feliks, the only one who had done everything to save her, was only using her for his own gains. So, if she couldn't trust even them, who could she trust?
That was exactly it. In this world, filled with suffering and pain, you couldn't trust anyone. To trust was to be betrayed, and to love was to show weakness. No longer would she strive to please them or to earn their affection. She would bow down and allow them to charge a knife through her chest. After all the pain and suffering, the child had finally found her purpose for being in this world.
She was going to show every damn person just how cruel life was.