Whiskers & Witchcraft

A heart-warming tale inspired by Egyptian mythology

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The neon lights of Seoul glowed against the calm silver of the moon resulting in a serene, strangely mysterious kind of peace, just like the ginger cat resting in Elara’s lap.

“The neon lights of Earth complement the moonlight above… a peaceful contradiction—just like you, my cutie.” She stroked the cat’s fur, smiling.

Beside her lay a thick hardback, Whiskers and Witchcraft, the book her best friend Riley, who ran a nearby bookstore, had pressed into her hands.

“You’ll love this one. It’s a bestseller,” Riley had promised.

Elara had already declined the dinner and karaoke plans with her colleagues; the weekend belonged to cocoa, her blanket, and her cat. She settled on the bed, cup of hot chocolate steaming, and balanced the book on her knees.

“‘Whiskers and Witchcraft’ by Rekha Kumari,” she read aloud. “What a title. I hope it lives up to it. It’s pretty heavy though, so I’ll read in parts and then narrate it to you. Deal?”

Two amber eyes blinked agreement.

Elara laughed. “Knew you’d say yes.”

Then she opened the book, slipping quietly into another world.

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The Tale of Lana

In the radiant kingdom of Goddess Bastet, daughter of the Sun God Ra, lived a cat named Lana who was the most curious, cheerful, and daring of them all. Her whiskers were never still; they quivered at every ripple of sound and scent. She was Bastet’s favourite too.

Bastet’s realm was home to great, majestic cats who were fierce and generous, as if moonlight were wrapped in sunshine. They played among the columns of light and purred in harmony with the stars.

One day Ra visited his daughter. While they talked, Lana, chasing a fur ball, wandered near and overheard them speak of a world called Earth, inhabited by strange, fragile beings called humans. The word tickled her whiskers with wonder.

Curiosity took hold of her, and she approached the shimmering portal that linked the realms. She tried to look closer, leaned too far, and lost balance hence tumbling through its spiral of colour, straight into the unknown while breaking the portal entrance. Soon Goddess Basted got to know about this and she got infuriated as this portal allowed other dimensional beings entry and exit. She decided to keep Lana on the earth for a while.

When Lana awoke, the sky above was soft blue, not gold. She was smaller now. Her wings, her glow, her easy shapeshifting were gone. The powers hadn’t vanished; they’d folded inward. Only her whiskers still shimmered with living energy, and now they could sense paths, emotions, even faint tremors of thought. She called out for Goddess Bastet, but all that came was a helpless “meow.” She was stuck on the earth for real.

Still, Lana being Lana, curiosity triumphed over fear. She began exploring this new place until she reached a quiet village, where she met a lovely woman named Dalia. Lana felt her goodness immediately; her whiskers hummed with it. Dalia bent and scooped the little creature up, and the cat pressed her forehead to the woman’s; bunting - a sacred marking. Lana had chosen her as family.

From then on, Lana filled Dalia’s house with warmth. She bounded across courtyards, basked in doorways, and chased butterflies. The villagers adored her, leaving bowls of milk each morning. Her divine presence kept the whole village light-hearted and safe.

Yet her whiskers sensed something beneath Dalia’s smile; the quiet sorrow of childlessness. So, she climbed onto Dalia’s lap, touched her belly with a paw, and purred a low, steady note, creating a prayer of vibration. Months later Dalia bore a daughter, Layla, then a son, Ramses. The village rejoiced, certain it was the cat’s blessing. Their reverence for Lana only grew.

Lana’s days on Earth overflowed with joy. She wandered into the nearby forest, where one day a tiger leapt from the shadows. Lana darted aside; the tiger missed and tried again. After several failed attempts he grew ashamed.

“Forgive me,” he said. “Teach me your agility.”

Lana forgave him and became his teacher. For days she trained him, showing him patience, balance, and the power of stillness. After the lessons were over, pride returned and he tried again to attack her. Lana sprang and climbed to the tallest tree.

“You never taught me to climb!” he roared.

“I left you one lesson undone,” she said calmly. “My whiskers warned me beforehand.”

Humbled, the tiger promised never to harm her kind. From then on, cats became the mausi means the maternal aunt of tigers, who never learned to climb trees.

Back in Bastet’s realm, the portal was fixed and Goddess missed her favorite pupil and called her home. Lana returned through the portal and apologized to the Mother Goddess and she quickly forgave. Then she told Bastet everything: the village, the joy, the tiger. Goddess listened with affection. Then Lana requested, “They are good, Mother. Please send someone to comfort and protect them.”

“You have done well, my child,” Bastet said. “Because of you, humanity will know comfort. I will send others like you— small healers with curious hearts.”

And this way Lana’s whiskers led to the creation of domestic cats, each carrying a spark of her sensitivity and curiosity.

Generations passed. Lana’s blessing flowed through Dalia’s bloodline, bestowing the women with intuition, healing touch, and foresight. They kept cats not as pets but as companions. Over time, with the rise of logic and rationality, this pure blessing was mistaken for trickery. Especially after the onset of Christianity, any power beyond the Church was deemed demonic. Human fear renamed what was once grace as black magic or witchcraft. The women were hunted as witches; their cats branded the companions of evil.

In Bastet’s timeless world, only weeks had gone by. Lana, unaware of centuries lost, asked again to visit Earth. Bastet hesitated.

“The world has changed,” she warned. “Their kindness is buried under fear.”

But Lana insisted, and the Goddess, sighing, opened the portal.

This time Lana landed in medieval Europe, amid smoke and suspicion. She passed an old man coughing in the street; as she brushed by, his pain eased. Her whiskers glowed faintly. Then she heard shouting; an accused woman being dragged to the square.

Lana ran to her, sensing through her whiskers the pulse of Dalia’s lineage. She was innocent. In an instant Lana circled her swiftly, stirring a spiral of dust that hid the woman from sight and freed her. But the crowd, blinded and terrified, turned on the cat.

They lunged with torches and nets. She tried to escape but to no avail. In those moments she recalled how Dalia's sadness had made her whiskers quiver and the healing energy she had passed on for her healing, has now turned the human hearts toward fear and suspicion. Now she understood why the Goddess had hesitated to send her here. Lana apologized to the Goddess Bastet, crying silently for the first time.

The Goddess opened the portal, and as Lana rose through the twisting light embedded in the multidimensional spiral path, due to time dilation, her form reflected as a mirage of nine shimmering shapes to the mortals. The crowd couldn't comprehend and gasped, “These demonic cats indeed have nine lives!”. And that's how a new legend was born.

Back home, Lana wept. “Mother, my kindness became their curse. My whiskers have given rise to witchcraft.”

Bastet touched her head.

“Child, never regret goodness. You see one dark moment, not the whole dawn. Because of you, they learned comfort and curiosity. Fear is only a passing season.”

“Do you hate them now?” the Goddess asked.

“Never,” Lana replied softly. “They were sweet and kind once. Sadness is what I feel for them now. I hope their inner turmoil resolves soon and they find happiness again.”

Bastet smiled, pleased. “Then go, and visit Earth whenever you wish. Connect with the cats of their world. Guide them to ease the humans’ unrest and sadness.”

It is said that Lana still visits Earth and spreads her positive energy through all cats. So, when you see any cat curled beside a lonely human, you can feel Lana’s energy working there.

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Elara finished reading and sat still for a moment, almost in a trance. She looked at her own cat, curled in her lap. She touched her lovingly and, for the first time, called her by name.

“Lana! Did you like the story? It’s beautiful. Gosh, I wish I could meet Lana now,” she said.

The cat stirred and met her gaze. Those deep, fluorescent eyes held her completely. Lana crawled to Elara’s belly, climbed to her face, and performed that sacred act again - touching foreheads in gentle bunting, marking her as family.

Elara froze.

The same Lana had once again come to Earth to care for Dalia’s lineage, to protect her, to ease her. Her whiskers glowed softly, and in that light was a promise: this time, she would stay.​

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Written by: Mrs. REKHA KUMARI aka ‘Lana’

Email id : lanasinsights@gmail.com

Author Bio: Rekha Kumari is a storyteller who blends mythology, science, and heart into tales that explore empathy and wonder. She believes even the smallest acts of kindness carry the spark of divinity.