The Price
Prologue
The sun was setting.
On a little island surrounded by rustling reeds, cats snarled and writhed, claws outstretched. Blood splattered the ground, soaking into the dirt and dyeing the grass a deep scarlet that mirrored the sun.
A small gray and blue she-cat hunched next to a structure of woven reeds, branches and an occasional feather or shell, frantically pressing cobwebs to the shoulder of a desperate black tom who slowly inched his way back into battle. A crazed yowling sounded from inside the den of reeds, but was drowned out by the sounds of the battle.
"Coalfire," the young she-cat snapped, "You're not in fighting condition at all!"
"Let me go, you little kit," He snarled back in response, "If I don't get out there, Thunderclan will-"
"I know, I'm trying to help the pain, you idiot!" She reached down and quickly chewed up a large black root, spitting the resulting pulp onto the bleeding patch on his shoulder. "Alright, go!"
The Riverclan warrior gave a curt nod before leaping onto a calico she-cat, who howled as he sunk his teeth deep into her neck. The apprentice tore her eyes away from the battle quickly enough to watch her leader fall to the ground, a filthy mixture of blood and mud coating his back.
"Skypaw!" Another yowl erupted from the inside of the structure. The young cat glanced around quickly before rushing inside.
A queen twitched on the ground, groaning as a larger silver she-cat shoved a dark-gray kit towards Skypaw, keeping a striped kit and another kit with tiny white paws closer to herself. "Lick the kit the wrong way." She ordered curtly, but Skypaw had already begun rasping her tongue over the soft fur.
"Is Featherpool okay?" Skypaw panted to her mentor, Flowingstream.
"She'll be fine." The old cat paused her licking and snarled. "I am sick of ThunderClan's arrogance. This is the third time they've attacked Riverclan warriors since Newleaf. How is the battle?"
"I don't know." Skypaw admitted. "I was helping Coalfire out; his shoulder was bad so I put some Comfrey root-"
"Comfrey root?" Her mentor gave her a disbelieving look. "I never taught you that."
Skypaw lowered her eyes and licked the kit in silence for a few moments. "I know." She meowed lamely. "It just felt right."
Flowingstream shook her head. "Well, it was the right thing to do. I'm glad you knew it. Somehow."
"Are those my kits?" a feeble meow came from the queen.
Flowingstream's eyes softened. "Yes, they are, Featherpool. Could you please help us lick them?" She gently placed the striped she-cat in front of their mother.
Suddenly, another tom burst into the nursery, startling the all the cats inside. The kits' hungry squealing grew louder, but the warrior barely seemed to notice. "Flowingstream! Battle's over but-"
"Ospreywing, take one of your kits and lick the fur the wrong way. Skypaw, come with me." The two medicine cats rushed out of the nursery and into the bloodied clearing.
Thunderclan was gone. Injured cats lay around the clearing, bodies heaving from blood loss and physical exhaustion. Skypaw took in the destruction with wide, fearful eyes.
"You know what to do." Flowingstream muttered before limping away.
Skypaw was frozen in place. Never in her two moons of apprenticeship had she seen such a horrible aftermath of a clan-wide battle. She had no clue where to start.
"Skypaw?"
She turned around and gasped.
Her brother, Roaringpaw, was crouching over another apprentice, Darkpaw. Numerous scratches and bites covered both of them head to toe, but Darkpaw seemed to be in worse shape. The tip of his tail was no longer connected to the rest; blood poured from the open wound and Skypaw thought she could see the white of a bone faintly through the thick scarlet. His ear was sliced open in a deep V shape and his green eyes were cloudy.
"Is he going to make it?" Roaringpaw mewed, his eyes wide and scared. "Skypaw, you have to save him."
"Definitely." Skypaw replied, brain already processing the wounds and the herbs she'll need. "Roaringpaw, get me as many cobwebs and marigold as you can."
He obliged, limping towards the medicine cat den.
Skypaw leaned down, her nose twitching at the strong scent of blood. "Darkpaw, can you hear me?"
There was no response. Darkpaw's spotted black flank was barely rising up and down.
She sighed, gently licking the deepest scratches as Roaringpaw hobbled back, half-bloody cobwebs and petals sticking to his paw. He sank unsteadily to the ground while Skypaw simultaneously pressed cobwebs to Darkpaw's wounds, chewed the petals, and spat them on the bloody clawmarks. There was a long stretch of silence, broken only by the sounds of Skypaw's spitting and Roaringpaw's shuddering gasps.
"His tail… you can't save it, can you?" Her brother meowed. His voice sounded strange, almost dreamy.
"Honestly," she replied, "I don't think any medicine cat could." She finished applying the last cobweb. Skypaw sighed. Darkpaw looked smaller than Featherpool's kits, with part of his tail gone and half of his body wrapped in scarlet cobwebs.
There was a sudden retching sound. Roaringpaw's stumbled to his paws, spitting blood and saliva. The blue of his eyes rolled up to white, and he fell onto his side, the bloody pool soaking into his fur.
And suddenly Skypaw realized the extent of his injuries.
Roaringpaw's stomach was slashed open, the glistening scarlet of the wound stood out against his matted black and ginger fur. Drool dripped from his open jaws, and his eyes were blank and unfocused.
"Oh no." She gasped, and jumped over, prodding him roughly with her paw, then with her nose, searching for a heartbeat. "Roaringpaw." There was no response. Skypaw felt sick. "Roaringpaw!" She yowled. "Wake up, you dungeater. Wake up. Please, wake up wakeupwakeupwakeup-"
A strange rushing sound filled her ears, but Skypaw barely paid attention as Flowingstream ran over to his body and nosed it gently, shaking her head. "Skypaw, I'm sorry, but I think he lost too much blood-"
Skypaw wailed quietly, voice cracking. She couldn't even feel her paws, couldn't feel anything. It was unreal. Surreal.
Even as Flowingstream pressed her silvery fur against her body. Even as the other warriors gently murmured condolences. Even as Creekstar solemnly meowed the words to send Roaringpaw up to Starclan.
Skypaw didn't even have the energy to stay awake for the vigil. She curled up right next to Roaringpaw's body, ignoring the sickly mush of cold, bloody fur against hers and fell asleep instantly.
That night, she dreamed.
Skypaw opened her eyes, and found herself in Fourtrees at midnight. The grass glowed silver in the moonlight, dew reflecting the stars. A lone warrior sat upon the Great Rock, regarding the silvery leaves of the great trees.
Her brother leaped down to the forest floor, his fur unbroken and as clean as a moonbeam. His paws barely disturbed the grass below him. Stars sparkled in his eyes and in his pelt.
"Skypaw," He glowed, tail waving peacefully behind him. "It's beautiful in Starclan."
"I wish I could be there with you." She meowed sorrowfully, her eyes drinking in the sight of his unbroken body. "I already miss you and you're standing right in front of me."
He shook his head and padded towards her, nudging her gently with his nose. "Don't say that kind of stuff. I'm glad you're alive. You're one of the greatest medicine cats this forest has ever seen."
"Doesn't matter if I'm the great Dapplepelt herself." Skypaw muttered. "If Thunderclan continues their hunt for territory, Riverclan cats – more like everycat – are going to die. Besides, we're only 8 moons old, Roaringpaw. I'm not exactly a medicine cat in the first place."
"It's true." He argued reverently. "You've already surpassed everyone's expectations. Riverclan is truly blessed by Starclan to have you."
Skypaw stared. Was Roaringpaw just trying to make her feel better? But then she remembered the battle, when she put that root on Coalfire's shoulder. It wasn't learned; it was instinct. But before she could further dwell on this, her brother continued.
"There's something else you should know." His eyes gleamed with information unknown to the living world. "Thunderclan will soon be taken by a disease so terrible it will cripple them beyond anycat's imagination."
Skypaw found dark satisfaction in his announcement. "So even Starclan tires of Thunderclan's arrogance."
His eyes stared deeply into hers. "I don't know the details, Skypaw." He admitted. "But the sickness is not Starclan's doing. We can only watch and know." He padded closer to his sister and nuzzled her shoulder. "I should go."
Her heart clenched. "I'll miss you so much." She wound her tail round his, feeling the warmth of his pelt slowly fade away.
"I'll miss you too, but I'm always here. We will talk again." His presence disappeared.
Skypaw was left alone in the starry grass of Fourtrees, but, strangely, she felt no grief. No anger. Only a dark trickle of satisfaction. She would look forward to Thunderclan's demise.
She curled up on the forest floor, closed her eyes, and slept.
Hello there,
This story is actually a remake/rewrite of 'Roaring Alders, Flowing Skies", as this was previously titled. I've matured as a writer and tried to make this more realistic, with better characterization and prose.
I would've made a whole new story and deleted this one, but I'm using many characters that people submitted to me through "Roaring Alders, Flowing Skies", and I wanted to make sure that people were still credited for their characters.
Watch for updates, and please review; I would love to know how you feel about this story, good and bad.
