Story #1:

The Ripple and the Spark

Ripplepaw remembers a family torn apart by death, but most of all, she remembers the apprentice who saved her life. But when he visits her from a limbo realm that's between StarClan and the Dark Forest, she realizes he was not who he seemed...and she's the only one who can help him move on.

When I was younger, just a tiny kit with newly-opened eyes, there were four other kits in the nursery.

They were older than my sister and I, and had been born long before us. They were three toms and a she-cat: Whitekit was the smallest, and always seemed sickly. His first brother was Fernkit, the gentle, gray-furred tom. The other brother was Sparkkit, bouncy and joyful, with a thick golden pelt. And their sister was the ever-bossy Maplekit, the leader of their little gang. I remember watching them from the entrance of the nursery, seeing the dark brown tabby she-cat marching around with Sparkkit behind her, followed by Fernkit, and finally, tiny Whitekit.

They were always so happy and bright, and to me, they seemed perfect.

Then, one harsh leaf-bare, Whitekit left. It was the strangest thing to me. One day he was there, and the next, he was just…gone. Just like that. There was no more little white fluffy kit trailing after his brother and sister, his nose constantly crusty. His pitiful mewing didn't wake the whole nursery when he had a nightmare. There was a tiny, kit-shaped hole everywhere he used to be.

Sorrow lay over the camp like a thick blanket of snow in all the days that followed. No one spoke of Whitekit, but all were thinking of him. The sadness that radiated off of everyone was almost painful. And even worse, Maplekit, Fernkit, and Sparkkit stayed in the nursery all day long, wallowing in their grief.

I missed watching them bound across our camp, persistently cheerful. Now they seemed so hollowed out.

Not long after that first tragedy, they became apprentices and moved out of the nursery. Some of their light returned. They would talk cheerfully, train and hunt together, and go out on patrol with their mentors. They'd discuss battle moves and eat together, and for the first time in a while, they were happy. But every now and then, they'd glance back, like they were missing something. Or someone.

I watched them every day from the nursery, glad. They seemed perfect again.

And then came the rogue attack. The rogues stole prey from our fresh-kill pile and fought anyone who stood in their way. I remember how terrifying it was to crouch in the nursery with my sister Ivypaw and listening to the sounds of the battle raging outside, the screeches and yowls and heavy pawsteps.

When the battle was finally over, we'd won.

But Fernpaw was dead.

After that, Maplepaw and Sparkpaw were never quite the same again. Maplepaw constantly had a haunted look in her eye, and Sparkpaw was always snapping at everyone angrily. They weren't perfect anymore. And it scared me. They'd been my idols for so long, and I'd looked up to them. And now they were broken.

One day, shortly after the battle, Sparkpaw went off alone into the woods to hunt and didn't return for four nights. The night he did return was the night Ivypaw and I left the nursery for the first time.

When Sparkpaw pelted into camp, screeching that the rogues were attacking again, we froze. We were terrified and vulnerable. My eyes connected with Sparkpaw's, and he gazed at me in horror. Then he turned around, right in front of us, and as the rogues flooded in, he slashed them down, one after the other, defending us, his claws covered with blood and clumps of fur. He hissed, defiant and strong.

Around the camp, after that attack, the word brave echoed in every ear. The clan all said it. Brave, brave, brave. He was so brave.

He was brave. I will never forget that day, and how brave Sparkpaw stood in front of us to shield us from harm, saving our lives. I will never forget how, during his last moments, he gazed at me with his round amber eyes, terrified.

I will never forget the day I watched Sparkpaw die.

It was dark. The sky was pitch black. The scent of sickness and fear tickled my nostrils, and I lifted my head, ears pricked, padding forward silently. I was following these scents, moving through the bushes and between the trees. I was pretty far from home, but not scared in the least. A strange fire burned in my belly, giving me strength and driving me onward. With each stealthy pawstep, I grew closer to where the other cats' scents were coming from. I heard voices now, cats speaking to each other with desperation in their voices. They spoke of failure. Of food. Of death. But I ignored it all. I followed the stink of these cats, shouldering my way through the tall grass, creeping with my belly to the ground. I scanned the cats huddling before me, searching for one in particular. Then I saw her. She stood apart from the rest, her fur creamy white and her eyes as green as the grass that surrounded me. Her tail tip was twitching, and she kept glancing back at a dark hole in the ground—her den, I guessed. She was sitting apart from the others.

I pounced.

She screeched in alarm. There were yowls of anger from all around me, but I just sunk my claws into that dark brown fur, shredding it apart to reveal the blood and bone underneath. The she-cat beneath me screamed and begged for mercy. I didn't listen. My claws sliced through her stomach, blood pooling out beneath her, and she fell still and silent, her eyes misty. I felt a brief moment of triumph. Then my belly started to churn as I stared down at her.

Then the cats around me began to screech in fury.

I ran.

The smell of blood followed me as I pelted through the forest, afraid for my life. The stench of death clung to me, chasing me no matter how fast I ran, and I couldn't get away from it. I yowled at the top of my lungs, hearing cats racing after me, hissing, snapping at my heels, hunting me down…

Forever.

I jolted awake, gasping.

"Ripplepaw, stop kicking me," Ivypaw mumbled from her nest.

"Sorry," I whispered back, shivering.

I'd been having this dream every single night for a long time now. I'd never told anyone. I wished it would just go away. Sometimes I worried that I'd keep having it forever. That it would never stop waking me in the middle of the night.

I got up and padded out into camp for some air. There was a cool wind blowing, ruffling my fur. The only cat out was Maplesong, sitting by the entrance, staring out into the forest, her long brown fur swaying gently in the wind.

I watched her, feeling sad. Poor Maplesong. She had no one now. No family, no friends, no mate. Everyone avoided her. No one knew what to say around her.

I walked toward her, and she turned. When she saw it was me, she gave me a curt nod. "Hello, Ripplepaw."

"Hi Maplesong." I settled down next to her.

"Couldn't sleep?" she said.

I put my chin on my paws. "Nightmare."

Maplesong nodded in understanding. "I see."

I sat there next to her as the sky turned pale gray and the dawn arrived.

"You know," said Maplesong, very quietly, "sometimes, I…I think I can hear Sparkpaw's voice."

I lifted my head. This was the first time I'd heard her mention him since his death.

"At times like this—dawn, or evening, when the sun is rising or setting…I think I can hear him calling my name."

I twitched my ear, listening as she fell silent. I thought I could hear him too now. "Maplesong, remember me," he whispered.

Then Maplesong glanced over at me and let out a sad little laugh. "But of course, that's silly. I'm just imagining things. He's gone. He's never coming back."

With a strangled noise, Sparkpaw's voice dwindled away to nothing.

I lowered my head. Just imagining things. Of course. No cat could come back from the dead.

I rose to my paws and padded back to the apprentices' den.

My mentor Bluerain announced that day that tomorrow we would have our warrior assessments. I was so excited—it felt like me and Ivypaw had been apprentices forever. Bluerain took us out hunting so we would be ready.

By the time the day was over, I was exhausted, and nervous. What if I failed my assessment tomorrow? What if Ivypaw became a warrior, but I didn't?

I paced in the apprentices' den, unable to sleep. As I did, I remembered my talk with Maplesong the night before. I thought of Sparkpaw, and how he'd never gotten to become a warrior. I sighed. I pictured his round, amber eyes, wide with fear.

"Ripplepaw, I knew you remembered me!"

I opened my eyes to see those very amber eyes staring back at me.

"Sparkpaw?" I gasped.

"Ripplepaw, please," he meowed. "You have to help me."

"Wha…" I backed away. "No. This can't be real."

Sparkpaw shook his head frantically. "Stop! Don't say that!" He gazed down at his golden paws, which were starting to fade. The fade crept up his legs.

"What's happening?" I asked. As I watched him and realized he was real, the color slowly began to come back into his legs.

He let out a sigh of relief.

I couldn't stop staring. "But Sparkpaw, you died. I—I saw it."

"I need your help," he said. "No one remembers me alive, they only think of me as dead. And some barely think about me at all any more! If everyone forgets me, I'll disappear!"

"No one disappears in StarClan," I said, confused.

He hung his head in shame. "But, Ripplepaw…I'm not in StarClan."

I stared at him.

"It's not like that!" he hurried on. "I'm not in the Dark Forest, either. I'm in…some other place." His eyes took on a haunted look. "It's…it's like a no where place. There's nothing there…nothing except—" He shuddered and closed his eyes—"the last things I ever did…they're just replayed, over and over."

I tilted my head. "But the last thing you ever did was…save me. Is that really so bad?"

Sparkpaw closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "That's not the only thing that happened. Have you been having the dream I sent you?"

"You sent that?" I mewed, shocked.

He nodded. "I…that's the last thing I did before I died." His voice was heavy with shame. "I killed that she-cat. She had kits, too…I heard her talking about them. She was afraid they were going to starve to death. They didn't have enough food, that's why they stole prey from us. But she killed Fernpaw. I wanted to make her pay." A fire lit up in his eye. "How dare she take him from me?" he snarled. "I needed revenge."

I took a step back. "Sparkpaw, this isn't you."

The fire in his eyes died. His tail drooped. He lowered his head. "I know. I was just so angry. And now I can't go to StarClan."

"And you think I could help you?" I meowed in disbelief.

"You remember me, the real me, the alive me," he explained. "I need you to help me redeem myself. Help me do something great!"

I shook my head. "Like what?"

"Anything!" he said desperately. "Please, you have to help me! I don't want to fade away forever!"

I blinked. "Talk to your sister. Or, or, I don't know. Look, I don't have time to think about this right now. My warrior assessment is tomorrow!"

Sparkpaw hissed. "This is more important than some stupid warrior assessment!"

I took a step back, shocked at the fury in his words.

He calmed down. "I mean—I only meant we have to hurry. I don't want to fade away. I need to do something good. Please help me."

I took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll help."

"Promise?" his eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

"Promise," I said solemnly.

"Good. I think we should go talk to my sister. I want her help, too."

I nodded, and we padded out silently and snuck into the warriors' den. We found Maplesong's nest, and I nudged her. "Maplesong. Wake up."

She yawned and opened one eye. "Ripplepaw? What is it?"

"It's your brother," I said.

"My brother?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "Sparkpaw."

"Sparkp—?" She sat up, her fur bristling. Then it fell flat. "Ripplepaw, he's dead."

I glanced over at Sparkpaw. He gave me an encouraging look. "Well…I know. But, he visited me."

Maplesong's eyes grew round. "From—from StarClan?"

I hesitated. Sparkpaw was shaking his head. But I couldn't tell Maplesong that her brother wasn't at peace. It would hurt her. "Yes."

"No!" he hissed furiously, claws unsheathing.

I took a deep breath. "He said you shouldn't remember and be sad. He said you should be happy. And…don't think of when he died, but hink of when he was alive."

She smiled sadly, her eyes full of sorrow and pride. "He sounds so wise."

"Stop!" Sparkpaw screeched, sounding desperate. "STOP! Tell her the truth!"

"This is what she needs to hear," I whispered to him.

Maplesong purred, resting her tail on my shoulders. "Thanks Ripplepaw."

I smiled. "You're welcome."

"I guess it's time for me to let go, huh, Sparkpaw?" she meowed.

"No!" he screamed. "No! Don't let go! No!" He looked down at his paws. They were still visible, and he seemed relieved. "Ripplepaw, you promised!"

"She's not forgetting you," I murmured, "she's remembering you."

"But not in the right way! She needs to remember the real me!" he said. His eyes burned into mine. "Then she'll see me, like you do!"

I lowered my head. "She is remembering the real you, Sparkpaw. The problem is, you don't remember the real you. You're selfish. You're cruel. And you aren't Sparkpaw anymore."

He snarled. "I'll kill you!" But as he leapt toward me, he disappeared.

"Are you okay?" Maplesong asked. "What were you mumbling about?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." I stood and padded back to the apprentices' den, my heart feeling heavy. What if I'd just helped him move on, but not to StarClan?

When I fell asleep that night, I didn't have the dream.

I never had it again.

I was out on my warrior assessment, stalking a mouse. I padded forward slowly, my tail twitching, my eyes locked on the tiny creature.

Suddenly it looked up and scurried away.

"Fox dung!" I cursed, and sat back, disappointed. I should have been able to catch that mouse. My worries about never becoming a warrior came rushing back.

Then I heard a scream.

I stood up and ran in the direction I'd heard it coming from. I knew who it was. My sister Ivypaw.

I skidded to a stop in front of a small ledge that dropped into a creek. "Ivypaw?" I shouted, terrified. I didn't see her anywhere. "Ivypaw!"

"Here," a weak mew answered, and I rushed over to the edge of the ledge. She was hanging there, her claws buried in the damp moss. It was slowly tearing away from the ledge. "Help me," she whimpered.

"Just—just hold still," I meowed, trying not to panic. "Don't move." I looked around in search of a stick for her to grab. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she gasped. "I was just hunting, and then something pushed me, and I screamed, but my mentor didn't come…I'm so tired," she sobbed. "My claws hurt."

"Just hang in there!" I couldn't find a sturdy enough stick.

I felt eyes, watching me. I turned sharply to see Sparkpaw. So he hadn't gone to the Dark Forest. Yet.

He was staring at me, just staring, with huge amber eyes.

"Sparkpaw? Help me find a stick!" I said.

Slowly, he shook his head.

"I asked you for help." His voice cracked. "I asked you for help. You said you'd help me. You promised. But you're a liar."

"I'm sorry!" I meowed desperately. "But it wasn't you! You weren't yourself!"

"You saw all of me, right before I died," he said. "You saw everything in my eyes. So even though we didn't know each other all that well, you still knew me better than anyone. So I went to you for help. But you didn't help me."

"I wanted to!" I said.

"Ripplepaw, who are you talking to?" Ivypaw asked. "Please hurry. The moss is tearing."

"I couldn't save my brother, when he died," Sparkpaw continued, advancing. "I wanted to. But I couldn't. So instead I did the only thing I could. I got revenge." But he didn't look happy about it. His amber eyes were huge and sad and angry. "Now I'll get revenge on you too. You'll see what it's like to lose a littermate. You'll feel my pain." His voice was dull and hollow. His fur was matted. I could see his bones, he was so thin.

"You'll feel my hunger. You'll want revenge. You'll want to kill the one who did this to you." A horrible, leering smile spread across his face, one that didn't reach his eyes. "But I'm already dead."

I closed my eyes. My heart was pounding. "Sparkpaw, I do want to help you. But I don't know how. And if you aren't the Sparkpaw I know, then I can't help you go to StarClan."

"I don't care anymore." His voice sounded hysterical. "I just want to make you suffer."

He scraped at the moss my sister was clinging to.

"No!" I cried, and dove forward, grabbing her scruff as she started to fall. But she was too heavy. I slid down after her, my mouth full of her fur.

The last things I saw before I hit the rushing water were Sparkpaw's two glowing eyes.

Then the water surrounded me, and I lost my grip on Ivypaw's scruff. There was no air, and the water swirled around me, spinning me in circles until I no longer knew which way was up, and which was down. I gasped for air and choked on a mouthful of water. I tried desperately to find something to hold onto, but there was nothing. Blackness licked at the corner of my vision.

I closed my eyes. Help me, was my only thought.

And then suddenly, I was being dragged out of the water. A cat had a grip on my scruff and was paddling me to shore with firm, steady pawstrokes. His thick golden fur was weighing him down, but he just kept swimming, and eventually, he dragged me onto the sandy bank.

I coughed up water and gazed up at the apprentice who had now saved my life twice.

"I'm sorry," he said, shivering and damp, his amber eyes remorseful. "I'm so sorry."

"Ivypaw?" I asked in a small voice.

His face grew determined, and he dove back into the water. But not before I noticed that the tip of his tail was fading into black smoke.

"Sparkpaw, wait!" I called, but he was gone.

I lay on the shore and waited until he returned, dragging my sister. She was coughing and heaving and vomiting up water, but she was alive.

"Thank you," I gasped, leaning my head against her flank. "Ivypaw, are you okay?"

"Ripplepaw," she mewed hoarsely. "Sparkpaw saved me."

"I know," I whispered. "I know."

He bowed his head. His paws were turning to smoke now.

"Sparkpaw?" I said.

"I'm moving on," he said softly. "To the Dark Forest."

"No! But you saved us!"

"It already started, before that." He sighed. "It's for the best. I'm dangerous. I deserve it."

"No you don't," I said firmly. I closed my eye and pictured him when he was alive. "Remember, Sparkpaw?"

"Remember what?" he asked.

"Remember how you used to march around the camp with your siblings? Remember how you used to train and hunt and play with them? Remember how you used to live?"

Sparkpaw nodded, purring happily. "And we'd always share our catches with each other and boast about who would be the best warrior. And we were always there for each other."

I opened my eyes and saw that his smoke was started to twinkle. Almost like…stars.

"And we'd tell each other jokes and vow always to help each other. And Fernpaw was always such a worrywart, and Maplepaw was so bossy, and Whitekit was so cute and funny. And our mentors were amazing, and Mom and Dad were so proud of us."

Behind Sparkpaw, I could see a tiny white kit and a gray tom, smiling at each other, their pelts full of stars.

"I remember the taste of squirrel, and how the first thing I ever caught was a sparrow, and I remember telling Maplepaw I'd never leave her, after Fernpaw died." At this, he broke off, looking sad. "But I did. I was wrong. I shouldn't have tried to get revenge. I will remember that. Always."

Half of his face had disintegrated into stars. He smiled at me, his eyes widening as he noticed the cats who had stepped up to stand on either side of him. "Whitekit. Fernpaw."

"Are you ready?" Fernpaw meowed.

Sparkpaw looked at me, his eyes twinkling. "Yes."

And he vanished into a swirling starry breeze, and floated away.

Good-bye, Sparkpaw, I thought.

I heard a purr. Good-bye, Ripplecreek.

I smiled.