Jet Black

by Fatgomez

Lionpaw is the most popular cat in his Clan. He's a skilled hunter and fighter, and he's brave. His litter mate, Twigpaw, lives in his shadow. One night Lionpaw receives a message from StarClan. The Clans are about to face a great danger, and only one cat can save them - Twigpaw. Lionpaw must give up his ambitions and help Twigpaw become the cat StarClan needs him to be. (T)

1. Prologue

Prologue

It was silent. A beautiful silver tabby she-cat sat down beside a massive tom. The dark tom looked up from a pool of sparkling water. "Silverstep, you do realize how much power this cat will have in their paws?"

Silverstep lashed her long tail. "If we don't do this, the Clans will be destroyed, Hawkstar," she hissed.

Hawkstar let out a sigh. The other StarClan cats weren't even sure if a living cat could handle such power. This power wasn't the kind of power the Three had. It was not special, not magical. It was merely a choice. The Clans would have to face a problem like no other, and only one cat could fix it. It had to be a strong, brave cat. They had to follow the warrior code and stay loyal to their Clan. This, however, was not the cat with the power. Their littermate would possess all these qualities in the beginning. They would have to sacrifice themselves in order to ensure their lesser littermate rose to the top.

Another cat padded up to the pool. Hawkstar dipped his broad head in greetings. "Hello, Yellowstar."

Yellowstar flexed his claws and stared at the shimmering pool of water. "It is time," he rasped.

Silverstep nodded, a sadness glittering in her blue eyes. She leapt into the pool, sending an arc of shimmering water into the air.

A distressed wail sounded from the nursery. Whitestream scrambled out of his den with herbs in his jaws. The black and white medicine cat called for his apprentice, Hollypaw. Hollypaw dropped a stick with mousebile on the end and raced after him. As Whitestream entered the nursery, he felt a sense of crowdedness close in on him. There were only two other cats in the spacious den. The birthing queen, Rabbitleap, gave a gasp of pain. Her mate, Tigermist, nuzzled her and curled around her. Whitestream ushered him out with a whisk of his black and white tail. Tigermist gave a reluctant glance at his mate before padding out.

The queen's black and white flank was heaving, and her swollen belly was as round as ever. Hollypaw stuck a strong stick in between Rabbitleap's jaws. Whitestream placed his firm paws on the queen's belly, feeling for kits. "The first one is coming," he grunted, guiding the kit out of its mother's belly with strong paws.

The kit slid out smoothly. Hollypaw broke the slimy sac with her teeth and placed the kit beside its mother's stomach. It immediately started to yowl and suckle. "It's a tom," Whitestream purred.

The kit was large for being just born, and it had a brilliant orange tabby pelt. It had huge paws and a strong, clear meow already. Whitestream thought he heard whispers, but the den was empty. Shrugging off the feeling, the medicine cat and his apprentice helped Rabbitleap give birth to her second kit. It was tiny. It had a plain, dusty brown pelt. It seemed as if its fur clung to its bones. "It's not breathing," Hollypaw hissed.

Whitestream quickly licked the kit's fur the wrong way, warming it up. After a few more frantic licks, the kit still wasn't breathing. Whitestream set it down, trying to think. Then, Whitestream felt something move his paws. It was as if something was moving his paws for him. He felt himself lean down to whisper something into the little kit's ear.

Wake up, little one. The time for you to perish is not before you had any time at all.

The tiny kit turned its head and opened its eyes for a brief moment. Its eyes were an icy blue color, and Whitestream swore he thought he saw another cat in place of his reflection. The black and white medicine cat jerked his head back. The tiny kit let out a gasp and wailed. Hollypaw purred and placed it beside Rabbitleap. "Thank you," sighed the queen, wrapping her tail around her kits.

Whitestream blinked. The den suddenly felt open again. The sense of crowdedness was gone. Tigermist rushed in, showering his mate with affectionate licks. "We should name them right now," Tigermist purred.

"The little brown one looks as if he is as thin as a twig. His name shall be Twigkit," mewed Rabbitleap.

"The golden one looks as strong as a lion. He looks as if he is already a warrior. He should be called Lionkit."

Whitestream quickly padded out of the nursery. "What's wrong?" asked Hollypaw, flicking her russet tail.

Whitestream opened his mouth, then closed it. For once in his life, he was not sure.