The Boy Who Drew Cats

Once upon a time in a small village, there lived a young boy named Jack. He was the youngest of four children, and while his siblings were strong and hardworking, Jack was small, quiet, and often sickly. But he had a gift that none of his siblings possessed: he could draw the most beautiful and lifelike cats anyone had ever seen.

From the time he could hold a brush, Jack was obsessed with drawing cats. He drew them on the walls of his family’s house, on the floor, and even on the doors. His parents, worried about his future, decided to send him to a temple to study under a wise priest, hoping he would grow up to be a great scholar.

At the temple, Jack tried to study as the priest instructed, but his mind always wandered back to drawing cats. He couldn’t help himself; his hands itched to create their graceful forms. The priest, noticing Jack’s distraction, grew impatient. One day, the priest advised Jack, “You are not fit to be a scholar. Go out into the world, and remember this: avoid large places at night, keep to small ones.”

Confused and saddened by his dismissal, Jack left the temple. He wandered aimlessly until night began to fall. Remembering the priest’s words, he sought shelter in a small abandoned temple at the edge of a nearby village. 

The temple was empty, its walls bare and cold. Unable to resist, Jack took out his brushes and began to draw cats on the walls.

As he drew, he lost track of time. The cats he painted seemed almost to come alive under his brush, their eyes gleaming, their fur sleek. Exhausted, Jack curled up in a small cupboard to sleep, remembering the priest’s advice to keep to small places.

Late that night, as Jack slept, a monstrous goblin rat entered the temple. It had long terrorized the nearby villagers, and now it had come to seek shelter. The goblin rat sniffed the air, sensing something was amiss. 

Suddenly, the painted cats on the walls seemed to move. They sprang to life, leaping off the walls with ferocious energy. The cats attacked the goblin rat, their claws sharp, their teeth bared.

The battle was fierce, but the cats were relentless. The goblin rat shrieked and howled, but it was no match for the army of painted cats. Finally, with one last terrible screech, the goblin rat was defeated, disappearing into the shadows from whence it came.

In the morning, Jack awoke to find the temple eerily silent. He stepped out of the cupboard and gasped. The floor was covered in the blood of the goblin rat, but there was no sign of the creature. Only his painted cats remained, sitting calmly on the walls, their eyes watchful.

The villagers, hearing of the battle, came to the temple and were astonished by what they saw. They realized that Jack’s drawings had saved them from the goblin rat. From that day on, Jack was celebrated as a hero. He continued to draw cats, but now he did so with purpose, knowing that his art had the power to protect and bring peace.

Jack grew up to be a famous artist, known far and wide for his lifelike cats. He never forgot the priest’s advice and always avoided large places at night, finding solace and safety in the small and humble corners of the world.