Cataclysm
Chapter One
There is a story told amongst two Clans thought to be extinct, a story about a time drenched in darkness and death, a story about a lost soul and the damage they did. To the young it sounds like just that, a story, filled with supernatural villains, star-crossed lovers, and impossible sacrifices. But to the old it is fact. A portion of their land remains dead as a testament to this, a barren stretch of grass where life refuses to settle. In the middle of this barren land is a tree, curled and wicked and gnarled.
It is said, on days when the wind is vicious and the sky angry, that a shadow can be seen dangling from a branch, swinging in the air; a Shadowstalker's ghost.
He was born as Black-kit, son to Falconheart and Lionstar, a prodigy from the moment he gasped his first, tiny breath. Or rather, that's what would have happened if he had been born first. Instead Goldenkit, now Goldenpaw, got that honour; the shining title of Future Greatness. Blackpaw was second born, stuck in between his two sisters, a bundle of shiny black fur that left his parents confused. But they left the oddity of his pelt alone, content with their offspring.
He was born normal, on the outside, and for some moons on the inside as well. A normal kit with a normal life. He would grow, train, earn his place in LightClan, perhaps take his own mate one day, then retire when his bones creaked too much. Just like his parents, and their parents, and an entire bloodline before him. He would remain normal - his place in the world was to be mundane, it was not to be magnificent.
But a darkness curling in his veins said otherwise.
- Are you coming to the tree? They strung up a man they say who murdered three -
"Go and put what we just learned into practice," Snowstep said with a flick of his tail. Dust from the training pit still clung to the white of his coat. At his side Goldenpaw and Lilypaw's mentors, Rainswipe and Swiftwing, nodded encouragingly.
Blackpaw bounced on his paws, excitement thrumming in his body. An apprentice for two moons the idea of running free through the forest still thrilled him. No doubt his sisters would turn their hunting exercise into a competition but he didn't mind. The Clan expected him to do his best, nothing more. As long as he caught something his mentor would be pleased.
"We'd like you to use everything we've taught you these past moons. Every hunting and stalking technique," Swiftwing told them. "Catch a bird each, that's your goal. If you're struggling don't worry about it and go after something you know you can catch, but do try for a bird. Understand?"
"Yes!" Goldenpaw chirped, "we won't let you down!"
Rainswipe smiled at his apprentice, "you could never let us down. Just do your best; good luck."
They disappeared into LightClan's forest; an airy place filled with sunshine and vibrant green. It dipped over hills and ditches, weaved through rivers and streams, then came to an abrupt end pressed up against the coldness of DarkClan's rigid pine trees. If one was to follow the border beyond the Shaded Creek and over Owl Crest both forests tapered out into a broad meadow: no cats land, the beginning of the Unknown.
Back then it had no name. Now it is merely called the Shadow.
Blackpaw had overhead Dewpatch telling Windrose that a family of pigeons were nesting in the Old Willow, so that's where he headed. The forest spoke to him in the whistles and flutters of birds high above, in the rustle and squeak of mice down below. A content feeling settled in his bones; he would pass this test, he would catch a bird and make Snowstep proud. He did not notice the way the shadow he cast rippled, nor did he notice the darkness clustered under bushes shuffling closer.
Every now and then his pricked ears would catch the sound of someone else padding through the forest after him - Snowstep, no doubt, assessing his apprentice. The Old Willow ruptured out of the tree line like an ugly wound, gnarled branches gnashing holes in the canopy. Blackpaw thought it was a charming tree, one with its own personality. He liked how it stood out, and stood strong despite its age. Sometimes he hoped he would be that strong when he was old too.
Quietly, pressed low to the ground, he crept round the huge tree eyes searching for a flash of gray, ears twitching back and forth hoping to catch the beat of wings. There. Tucked into a fork of a thick branch, a bundle of sticks and other junk. He grinned at the sight of a fat pigeon resting in the nest, head resting on its breast, eyes firmly closed. Then his grin wavered. If the pigeon was asleep in the tree he would have to climb up it to get it.
Resolve strengthened his courage. He would get that bird. A moons worth of training would not go to waste all because of a little climb.
Old bark crumbled under his claws and the further the ground got the shakier his grip became. Thankfully the branch he needed was within reach. Unfortunately, his scrabbling had woken the sleeping pigeon. It blinked at him. He blinked at it. The branch swayed beneath them both. Blackpaw made a split second decision that he would most likely regret in the coming moments: he pounced. His outstretched claws ripped through the pigeon's wings as it leapt into the air, only to haphazardly glide to the forest floor, one wing in tatters. The branch snapped under his sudden weight and he crashed into the leaves next to the bird.
Luckily the fall was short enough to only smack the air from his lungs. Still, he stayed curled up on his side wheezing and gasping for a while. Already he could feel a mighty bruise blooming where he'd hit the ground. When the spots in his vision dissipated and the air had returned to his lungs, he rolled to his paws, sitting up with a groan. The sight he opened his eyes too nearly knocked the air from him again.
An inky black...thing had the panicked pigeon by the throat, wrapped around it like a snake. He watched, shocked, as it shifted slightly and snapped the bird's neck. The crack was muffled but Blackpaw felt it, as if a shockwave had rippled up his legs and into his spine.
"Accept it."
It shifted through the leaves, sidled past his ear like it was nothing more than the breeze. But Blackpaw knew better. He knew the wind could not speak, not with words he could actually understand. The thing slithered toward him; he felt it then, in that moment when his heartbeat slowed and he reached out with a paw to touch it, he felt a connection and a belonging. He thought about it crawling up his leg. It did. He thought about it draping itself around his shoulders. It did.
"Good."
"What are you?" he whispered, skin tingling as it slipped through his fur.
The branches overhead creaked. "Yours."
Nearby the undergrowth rustled and the Snowstep's scent caught Blackpaw's nose. His heart thudded; anxiety flooded his veins. Did this count as cheating? He didn't even really catch the bird...it would have escaped while he was still curled up in pain. The thing darted off his shoulder and disappeared under a clump of flowers, melting into the shadows underneath it. A shadow...is that what it was?
"Good job, Blackpaw!" Snowstep exclaimed as he clambered over the Old Willow's roots. "You've done very well."
A little guilt tainted Blackpaw's joy, but he puffed out his chest and took the praise anyway. What could he say? Snowstep wouldn't believe him. He'd think he was crazy! So he bit his tongue and let his mentor praise him. It felt good, usually it was only his sisters that received such praise. No wonder they tried so hard all the time.
"Come on," Snowstep said, "let's get back to camp so you can show the others your catch."
Blackpaw purred, tail curving happily. But at the back of his mind lurked a reminder of what he'd just seen: a shadow finishing off his kill for him, and then responding to his thoughts. Shifting his head he peered back at the clump of flowers. The darkness stared back at him, not shifting with the wind like the flowers were, not moving like a normal shadow, but rather watching him as he walked away.
As he'd expected Goldenpaw and Lilypaw exceeded expectations; Lilypaw had a starling in her mouth while Goldenpaw had a robin and a crow. They grinned at him when they spotted him, waving their tails excitedly. "We all passed!" Lilypaw purred.
"Well look at this." Lionstar stood over them, golden coat bright in the sun, smiling warmly. "Such a big haul from our apprentices. I'm sure Sunstreak and Firestorm would appreciate the robin and the crow. Why don't you take it to them, Goldenpaw?"
Goldenpaw nodded her head and beamed up at Lionstar. "Of course, mother."
"You can take your starling to the elders, Lilypaw."
They remained silent until Lilypaw had slipped into the hollow log of the elders den. "Snowstep said he's very proud of you," Lionstar began, "that you're training is coming along very well. I'm glad to hear that."
"I just want to be a good warrior," Blackpaw shrugged.
"You will be, and so will your sisters. You'll do LightClan proud," she replied. "The blood that runs in your veins is pure Clan, pure warrior; you were born for this. But you don't need to push yourself to do great things. Your best is all we ever ask for."
Lionstar licked the top of his head and he purred loudly. "Did you and father ever struggle with your training?" he asked.
"Not really, we were always trying to be better than the other. We were very competitive when we were apprentices," she laughed. "Speaking of your father, he's due back from a border patrol and I need to speak with him. You can go, Blackpaw."
He wanted, desperately, to tell someone what he had seen, what he had felt. But something tugged at him each time he opened his mouth; an unsettling feeling of dread that soured his stomach. At the same time an itch was brewing - not one he could scratch no matter how hard he tried. It seemed to be covering his entire body, an irritation that would not let up. Like eyes, watching, waiting.
For days he felt it. For days he searched every pocket of darkness and every time something was staring back. Was it normal to feel unaffected by it? Shouldn't he be terrified of the shadows that followed him as if they were his own? No fear, no dread, only a sense of curiosity and...understanding. Blackpaw liked to think StarClan had given him something, a gift, to use for the good of LightClan.
During hunts and moments he could steal away in the forest by himself, Blackpaw would practice. He learned, slowly, that they answered to his every thought. They would play with him if he asked, chase him through the forest like a game of tag. They'd hunt for him, but he hated asking for that because it seemed like cheating. They were his and it didn't feel wrong.
Time passed like that, with Blackpaw tentatively growing confidence in his strange ability. No one suspected anything and so he told no one. It wasn't affecting who he was or how he trained, and he wasn't slacking on his duties as an apprentice either. In fact, he worked twice as hard. Perhaps one day, when he was a respected warrior, he'd be able to show the Clan this power and explain to them that he had been using it to protect them for moons. Life with the shadows became normal….until she appeared.
His dreams that night were not ones of chasing mice or being a hero, instead he found himself in a meadow, stark green against a night sky blossoming with stars. A heavy moon sat on the horizon moving neither up or down. Through the grass played a light breeze. Blackpaw admired it with wonder, eyes roving over anything and everything. His shadows wrapped up his leg.
"Is it safe?" he whispered.
They nodded.
"So close already." They floated just above the grass, a mass of dark shadows that twisted and curled in the air. Blazing orange eyes blinked at him, slowly. Their smile was dangerously sharp. Carefully, like he was a frightened kit that might spook, they drifted closer. "Like old friends reunited."
Blackpaw eyed their sharp grin warily. "Who are you? Where am I?"
"I am a friend, and here is wherever you want it to be," they spoke, and their voice was honey smooth. He wanted to listen to them forever, wanted to hear every story he'd ever heard retold. "Your name is Blackpaw, isn't it?"
"Yes! How did you know? Are you from StarClan?" he rambled.
They cocked their head, "yes."
"Does that mean this shadow power thing is a gift from StarClan?" His tail curled excitedly, eyes wide and bright.
"Of course, where else would it be from?" they replied. "I'm here to help you learn how to use it. Provided you want to learn."
Blackpaw nodded and the shadow curled up on his shoulder wriggled to match his excitement. "I want to learn! It'll be useful to help my Clan in the future when I'm a warrior."
"Tell me about your Clan," they murmured, "about your family."
A butterfly fluttered by his head and his eyes left his friend to follow it. "Well my sisters Lilypaw and Goldenpaw are super good at everything, they're amazing. I heard Robinleap - he's the deputy - say one of them might even end up leading the Clan one day." He sat back on his haunches to bat at the yellow butterfly. "Falconheart, our father, is a really good warrior. Everyone respects him, plus he chased off some rogues before we were born that were threatening the Clan, so he's really cool."
"And your mother?"
Blackpaw smiled, "she's the Clan leader. Her name's Lionstar, and she's got nine lives but you're a StarClan cat so you already know that."
The creature shifted, shadows flaring out in the air, "I did, yes. Do you feel the need to prove yourself because your mother is the leader?"
"Not really. They only expect me to do my best," he replied.
"Well, that's good." He couldn't really call their smile a smile, it was far too toothy for that, but he supposed it was good enough. "Say, Blackpaw, would you like to know why you're here? In StarClan?"
Anticipation bubbled inside him. "It's because of this power isn't it?" he purred, and the shadow on his shoulder lurched forward suddenly and crushed the butterfly. Carefully it slid the crushed remains onto the ground by his paws. Blackpaw sighed, "that was rude. I was playing with it. Naughty shadow." As if it was a scolded kit the shadow drooped.
"It certainly is. You're special, Blackpaw, and you're going to do so much," they said with reverence. "But we don't have the time to begin tonight." At Blackpaw's pout, they added, "we have plenty of time for you to learn about your power, about who you are. However, I'll tell you one thing, as long as you promise not to tell anyone about it. This must be our secret, okay?"
The dream was fraying at the edges. At one end of the meadow the trees were tumbling and falling away, crashing into one another but not making a single sound; the moon was melting into the horizon while each star blinked out of existence. He could feel the ground trembling under his paws, could see the meadow crumbling. Just as the grass and dirt gave way beneath him his strange friend grinned.
"You're a Shadowstalker."
an: this is a sidestory to the Game of Blood series, but it can be read as a standalone if you wish - no context from that series is truly needed to understand this story.