Even in daytime, the depths of the Forest of Chains were hauntingly dark. As if the looming shadow of the ruins above weren't enough, the canopy was so thick that no light could reach the forest floor, drowning the pathways in a thick shadow. But, this was by design. After all, an escaped prisoner could only go so far in total darkness, and with the darkness came the threat of being killed by shadow-wolves - those accursed canines that were known to strip a body clean in a matter of minutes.
This was the hope of the wardens of Blackwater Prison, which was situated in the center of the shadowy Forest of Chains. The security of the prison and the darkness surrounding it ensured that most escape attempts failed, and so the prison attendees were free to exact cruelty against the incarcerated at their leisure. Thieves, dissidents, deserters - all prisoners were taunted, exploited, and then left to rot. It was one of the worst prisons on the continent, and one of the hardest to escape.
Of course, that didn't stop Crimson Jack from getting away.
Jack was a bandit, and a clever one at that. He made his living by robbing carriages and caravans, though he never wet his blade with the blood of an innocent. His thieving ways landed him in Blackwater Prison, and they ended up getting him out, too. After a long, long time, Jack decided he'd had enough of the abusive guards and rotten cellmates and snuck out of Blackwater Prison with a stolen back door key. Now, he was on the run, making his way north through the Forest of Chains. Though he was tired, he knew not to slow down - lest he become prey for a prison search party, or worse, a pack of roving shadow-wolves. He sprinted through the dark thicket with a smile on his face, bushy red tail trailing behind him.
As Jack headed north, he began to see some familiar architecture. Ruins, scattered amidst the trees. Some were built by average people much like himself - shacks, storage sheds, and the like. Others, however...were built by the Giants. Their massive ruins loomed over everything else, dwarfing the trees as they jut from the forest canopy. When he was serving time at Blackwater, Jack saw dozens of these structures - decrepit and abandoned, but impressive all the same. Though, most of these ancient structures had already been picked clean.
Jack paused to examine one such ruin: a fractured segment of a fallen tower sticking upside-down out of the ground. A stone pillar stood proudly before him, carved into the likeness of a nude, humanoid lioness. The carving was worn by age, and many of the details were lost. But, just by the sheer size of the pillar, he could tell that it was an impressive feat of craftmanship. He reached out and ran his fingers across the carved lioness's mane, tracing its spine with his fingertips. Many similar pillars supported the tower, each one carved into the likeness of a gorgeous feline.
There was something about this particular ruin that drew him in. Maybe it was the lions. Jack had always been rather fond of cats.
He hadn't made up his mind until he heard a distant howl. The dreadful song of a distant Shadow-Wolf, which sent a chill down Crimson Jack's spine. Those wolves rarely travelled alone. As the howling continued - now in greater numbers, a haunting harmony of dark voices - Jack knew that they had caught his scent. It was now a matter of life or death - Jack had officially run out of options.
With nothing but his bare hands, Jack began to climb the ruin. Because the tower fragment was upside-down, the only way in was to enter through a window, and the nearest one was quite high up. Luckily, there were enough stones jutting from the tower to allow Jack to make the climb.
After climbing a few feet, he turned to look over his shoulder, and his heart sank at the sight of an enormous pack of shadow wolves approaching in the distance. While the wolves could not climb, they could definitely jump, and if Jack wasn't high enough before the wolves arrived, they would surely grab him by the ankles and pull him down, leading to a razor-sharp demise. So, Jack picked up the pace, climbing hand over hand to get to a lion-headed gargoyle that was sticking out of the tower face. And, just as he grabbed the gargoyle and pulled himself up to it, he heard a pair of jaws snap shut mere inches below his ankles. The wolves had arrived, but fortunately, Jack was out of reach. For now. He smirked slightly as he watched the pack of ravenous canines snarl at him from below. No doubt they were hungry, but they would not make a meal of Crimson Jack that day.
Jack climbed on, using the gargoyle to gain access to the window. Whatever glass had been in this window had already shattered, because the fox could see right into the tower's interior. He paused a moment to take a look around.
It was unclear what exactly caused this tower to flip on its head, but the interior was a mess for it. Chairs, books, and furniture were scattered about down below, all incredibly ancient and rotted beyond recognition. The books were illegible, the furniture was in shambles, and a thick layer of dust coated every surface. However, the stone walls of the inverted tower were easily preferable to the harsh conditions of the forest outside, and so, after taking a second to adjust his footing, Jack dropped in.
He landed without much noise, owing to the leaves on the ceiling-turned-floor. A second look around the space revealed that it was abandoned. At least, that was how it seemed.
"Lose something?"
The voice came from above. Seated cross-legged atop a bookshelf was a young feline, no older than twelve years old. Her fur was so black that she would have been invisible in the darkness, were it not for her glowing blue eyes and ivory-white teeth, grinning from under the wide brim of a black mage's hat.
"Lost my freedom," answered Jack. "I'm working on getting it back." He looked up at the girl, squinting briefly in an attempt to discern some of her finer features. All he could see, though, was the fluffy black tail, swishing back and forth as she stared at him.
"But, you've found it already," remarked the kitten. "The freedom that Blackwater Prison took from you...you stole it back, didn't you?"
Crimson Jack folded his arms. "So you know I'm a convict. How can you tell? You some kind of witch?"
The dark feline shook her head. "One doesn't need to be magic to discern your origin."
"Is that so?"
She giggled sweetly through her strange smile. "You're still dressed in a prisoner's uniform."
The fox looked down at his body to see that, in fact, he was still dressed in brightly-colored prison garb. It was obvious, even at a distance, that Jack was an escaped convict.
"Heh. I suppose I forgot." He took a moment to brush the dirt off the uniform before looking back up at the kitten.
However, she was gone.
"Not many manage to escape Blackwater Prison," remarked the feline, after a brief silence. The girl's voice came from elsewhere in the room; Jack turned to see her seated upon a different bookshelf, just as quickly as she had disappeared from the first.
"Well, I'm a fox of many talents," replied Jack. "I suppose the same could be said of yourself. Surely you're a mage of some kind?"
"Perhaps."
The fox looked around, noting the state of disarray the tower was in. He dragged his finger across a nearby desk, leaving a trail through a thick layer of dust.
"I wouldn't have expected a mage to live in these conditions," chuckled Jack.
"Is it wise to judge things by how they first appear?" inquired the girl. She was in a different location now, and her question came from further across the room. When Jack turned to look, he found himself awestruck as she sat comfortably atop a tower of precariously-stacked furniture. The structure wasn't there before, and its formation hadn't made a sound.
"Incredible." Crimson Jack smiled at the little feline as the moon illuminated her silhouette. "Do you have a name?"
"I have many names," sighed the kitten. She reclined on the chair atop the stack, as if taking a moment to recall something. "And I have had many namers. You are free to call me what you like, but all those that know me eventually end up referring to me by the same name."
"And what is that?" inquired Jack.
"The Cheshire Mage."
There was a snapping sound, and the structure began to shake, shudder, and then collapse. Chairs tumbled one by one onto the floor, and the Cheshire Mage fell. However, she didn't have time to hit the ground, as she fell right into the arms of Crimson Jack. She looked up at him with a smile - one reminiscent of a crescent moon in a pitch-black evening sky.
"What about you?" she inquired.
"Crimson Jack." The fox chuckled. "But...Jack will do."
"Jack. What a nice name." She smiled up at him. "You look hungry. Why don't you come upstairs with me, to the attic?"
Jack ook a moment to remember that the tower was upside-down. "So, below us?"
"Exactly," she giggled.
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Because the tower was upside-down, what was once the attic now served as a basement. A hatch in the floor led down into the room, and it was much cleaner and cozier than the chamber above. There was a comfortable bed, a fireplace, and a veritable mountain of books - all completely intact. It was a vast improvement compared to the stifling stone interior of a prison cell. What was more, the room was filled with a pleasant aroma - presumably coming from the simmering pot hanging in the fireplace.
In the light, Jack could see the mage more clearly, and he was shocked by her choice of outfit. A long, trailing loincloth and a ragged mantle barely served the task of covering her intimate areas; everything else was left out in the open, including her shapely little legs and soft midriff. Unusual attire, for a kitten. However, Jack did not get much time to wonder about it, as he was soon approached by the girl, who seemed to take notice of his staring.
"Is something the matter?"she asked.
"No, I don't think so."
She eyed him for a moment, looking him over as if trying to discern his true thoughts. Eventually, though, she shrugged, and made a grab for his shirt.
"Fair enough. Let me take that filthy prison suit off for you," suggested the Cheshire Mage. "I have some clothes you can wear."
"I'm capable of undressing myself," breathed Jack.
"Sure, but surely you're tired? I'm only a kitten, Jack. I won't do anything nefarious."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You're quite...verbose...for a kid."
The feline motioned towards the many, many fully-stocked bookshelves lining the walls. "I read a lot, as you can see." She grinned mischievously as she then began to unbutton the fox's shirt.
Crimson Jack watched as she worked, taking note of the way her paws lingered against his skin. She took her sweet time unbuttoning his shirt, and when the buttons were finally undone, she removed the garment in one smooth motion. After casting it aside, the young kitten grabbed hold of the edge of Jack's pants and pulled them down. She let him keep his underwear on...for now. The fox saw her gaze linger on the bulge in his boxers, if only for a moment, before she turned away, casting the prison suit carelessly aside.
"So...what's a girl as young as yourself doing all the way out in the Forest of Chains?" inquired Jack.
"I live here." The mage grinned smugly. "I found this tower to be quite cozy, so I moved in."
"And the shadow wolves?"
"Oh, they're actually quite sweet once they get to know you," answered the mage. She giggled. "I suppose they weren't quite familiar with your scent."
Jack folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow. "Are you implying that the wolves aren't a problem for you?"
"That's right."
"How is that possible?"
The mage's grin widened, though now there was a tint of redness to her smile as a bit of warmth accumulated in her cheeks. "Have you ever heard of a 'red rocket', Jack?"
"I...don't believe I'm familiar, no."
The mage giggled hysterically, which did nothing but confuse Jack. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"A 'Red Rocket'? Is that a euphemism or something?"
"Don't worry about it," answered the mage. "You must be hungry. Come! I made stew."
==================================
"The ruin you stand in now is merely a displaced fragment of a much larger structure," explained the mage. She ladled some stew into a wooden bowl for Jack. "Long ago, this tower piece was broken off the top of a structure known as the Temple of Solace. You may have seen it in the distance while serving time at Blackwater Prison."
"That massive ruin in the distance?" Jack chuckled and took a sip from the stew. "I guess that explains why one of the towers were missing."
"Yes, the temple has been abandoned for quite some time...save for a colony of ringbats."
"I see." Jack took another sip. "This is very good, by the way."
"Thank you. It was my mother's recipe." The Cheshire Mage smiled and took a seat on the table, not far from where Jack was sitting. "She taught me many things, history being one of them. I've a great interest in the lost stories of our continent, and all of the secrets the Giants left behind."
"I would expect as much from a mage," snickered Jack. "I've always wondered about those ruins, but I've never bothered to explore one, personally."
"I would expect as much from a bandit,"  chided the mage. Her tail flickered deviously, and she grinned from ear to ear. "After all, why pillage perilous ruins when you can pillage the pillagers on their way back?"
Jack paused. After a moment of silence, he placed his spoon on the table next to his bowl, and then he turned to look at the feline, staring deep into her glowing eyes.
"How do you know that?"
"Know what?" The girl folded her paws neatly on her lap.
Jack raised an incredulous eyebrow. "That caravan-robbing is what landed me in prison?"
The mage shrugged. "I keep an eye on public records, Jack. Anyone with the mind to read an official document would know that you were once a dirty, thieving bandit."
The fox stood up from his chair and took a threatening step towards her. "You already knew my name, didn't you? I can believe that you knew that I was a convict, but the idea that you'd memorize the names and charges of every prisoner in Blackwater is fucking insane. You're hiding something from me." He took another step towards her, until their noses were mere inches apart. Even still, the Cheshire Mage continued to grin, clearly amused by his reaction.
"Relax, 'Crimson Jack'. Are you really going to fight a little girl in your underwear?"
Jack looked down. He...was still wearing nothing but his boxers. He'd gotten so comfortable that he had forgotten all about it.
"That reminds me!" She chirped.  "I have something you can wear."
The girl scrambled over to the other side of the room and threw open the wardrobe. There were only a few items inside of it - Jack could see a few pairs of frilly panties, bras, robes, and loincloths. One item stood out amongst the rest, however: A long, blood-red overcoat, hanging from the rack.
The mage pulled the coat down and brought it to Jack, hoisting it up for him to take it from her. "This is for you. It belonged to a friend of mine."
Jack reached forward and took hold of the crimson garment. His fingers brushed against the lining of its cuffs, which were soft like velvet. The inside was lined with warm fur, and the collar was adorned with silver buttons. It was a beautiful piece of clothing.
"By the Gods," He breathed softly, admiring the fabric. "Surely this isn't for me."
"Go on, go on!" The feline bounced up and down like a giddy child, and her tail waved excitedly in the air. "It's yours. Put it on."
He slipped on the cloak, feeding his arms into the sleeves until the garment fell perfectly into place on his broad shoulders.
There was no denying it now.
"This fits too well," huffed the fox. He shot the mage a glare. "Explain."
The cat sighed. For the first time, her smile faltered. "Jack, do you believe in luck?"
"I make my own luck," he growled.
"And yet you ended up in prison?" The young mage giggled and began to circle the fox, getting a good look at the way the coat fit over his torso. "Fortune brought you here, to my Upside-Down Tower, Jack. Fortune put this crimson coat on your handsome shoulders. Is it so hard to believe that we might just be lucky?"
"It's my understanding that black cats are an omen of bad luck," retorted Jack.
"And yet here you are. Face-to-face with black fur and pink toes, and you have a full belly and a new coat. Must you worry so much? I'm not your enemy, Jack. If anything, you are more dangerous to me than I am to you."
Jack's ears fell as he took a moment to process her words. His bushy tail swished slowly across the floor.
"What else do you know about me?"
"There will come a time for that. For now, you need to eat, and rest. Take solace in my care. Tomorrow, you will be a free fox."
"What do you mean?"
"Crimson Jack, you may be clever, but you won't escape this forest undevoured unless you allow me to guide you." She took his hand gently in her paw. "I won't betray you. I promise."
Jack felt some of the anxiety leave his body as her soft little fingers brushed over his own.
He wasn't sure why, but...he could feel, deep in his bones, that she was telling the truth.
==================================
"I can sleep on the floor," proposed Jack.
"Nonsense." The mage took her hat off and hung it on a rack, allowing Jack to see clearly for the first time her short black hair and the pointy ears that jut from them. "The bed is big enough for both of us."
Jack glanced at the small bed that was tucked into the corner of the room. Calling it twin-sized would have been a very generous statement.
"It really isn't."
"I'm just a kitten, Jack," mewled the Mage. She reached under her ragged shawl and pulled it up off her shoulders, tossing it haphazardly onto the floor. "It's only dirty if you make it."
The fox gulped, trying not to stare at the girl's exposed shoulderblades. "I really don't want to overstep any boundaries..."
"And yet you're still watching me undress."
Jack swiftly turned around, facing the wall opposite the feline.
Giggling, the girl bent over and hooked her claws into the waistband of her loincloth, slowly pulling the garment down to her ankles. She was wearing nothing underneath, which would have given Jack a full view of her plump little ass, if he had been watching. "I don't mind, Jack, really. Would you fetch me a pair of panties from the wardrobe?"
The fox sighed and nodded. "Sure."
Now that he was directly surveying the contents of the wardrobe, the contents alarmed him. He counted out at least two thongs, a set of lingerie, and a number of polished crystals that were suspiciously phallic in shape. When he glanced back at the mage, she was laid across the bed, grinning deviously at him from across the room.
He wanted to call attention to it. He really did.
But, he chose not to do so, instead fetching a pair of panties from the drawer and taking it over to the mage. The young mage took the underwear with a smile, and brought them under the blanket, slipping them up her legs and onto her pelvis out of his view.
"Thank you, Jack." She rolled over to the side closest to the wall, and then she pat the space beside her, motioning for him to join her. "Come on, 'Crimson Jack'. You need all the rest you can get for tomorrow."
The fox sighed, taking a moment of reluctance. They were both in their underwear, and this girl was thirteen.
...Was she?
"How old are you?" He inquired.
"If I told you, you wouldn't get in bed with me," she purred. "Or, maybe you would, depending on what kind of person 'Crimson Jack' really is..."
The fox shivered. There was something...haunting...about how sweetly she said those words.
"I'm only teasing. No one is going to know, Jack. I'm offering you a space on the bed. Take it or leave it."
Jack took a moment to think about it.
Eventually, he caved, and with a deep, defeated sigh, the fox climbed into bed next to the little girl. Much to his shock, the Cheshire Mage wasted no time in snuggling up to him, purring contentedly as she slipped right underneath his arm.
"I don't see how this is necessary," huffed Jack.
"Want me to cease this cuddling, then?" inquired the mage.
The fox took a moment to simply lie there, breathing slowly as the rumbling purrs of a young kitty vibrated against his chest. He listened to the sounds of the wind outside, and the rain pattering against the tower. After weeks of constantly looking over his shoulder and sleeping with one eye open...he finally relaxed.
"No," sighed Jack. He pulled the young feline closer to himself, not even thinking twice about it when she draped her bare leg over his thighs. "Goodnight, little mage..."
The mage purred happily and buried her nose in the fox's chest. "Goodnight, Crimson Jack."