Shimmerstar was dead. They didn't want to believe it, he didn't want to believe it, but it was true Who would have thought their fearless leader, their fighting leader, their victorious leader could be beaten by something as little as Greencough? Who would've thought a disease would bring her to her knees, steal away with her sanity, and finally take her life? Not Riverclan. After hundreds of battles, constant stress, she died like this. Bramblestorm, the old medicine cat, his joints riddled with crippling arthritis, limped from her den. His hazel eyes were dull and defeated.
"No!" Larchwing shrieked, crouching low on the ground as the pain of loss tore through her, "No!" Jaystrike comforted his daughter, sitting beside her with his tail draped over her shoulders. The warrior's littermates huddled around the pair; Pikenose's fiery amber gaze had darkened considerably to a muted, burnt orange while Mintstripe just crouched in silence, tears leaking from her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Ottersplash was mute and forlorn, looking lost in a world without his mother. They knew exactly how that felt. But the implications of Shimmerstar's death were far worse for them.
Creekfall was furious, mad at Starclan themselves for taking his sister, and he ran into her den with a mournful cry, snow crunching beneath his paws. His mate waited outside, sitting beside their two kits, Sweetspots and Robinclaw. Shimmerstar's mother Firbreeze slowly made her way into her daughter's den as well, stooped and beaten by age and grief. In camp, Streamdash looked proudly about her new Clan. They hated her smug grin, her passionate stare, the way her greedy paws kneaded the sand. Almost instantly after the announcement, Crowshade had turned to her.
"Streamstar!" He shouted, and others joined, but halfheartedly. She silenced them.
"Not until our dear leader rests in her final nest…" The silver she-cat murmured, feigning respect for Shimmerstar in a way that was brutally obvious. Falconshade growled, soft and low, and no one but they heard it. His ginger tail lashed the sandy ground furiously, but Tansyfoot hushed him. Her belly heavy with Rowanleap's kits, she glanced at them worriedly. She too knew what was coming, and she was in no ready state to stop it. So many things had happened to sway the clan towards the conniving silver deputy…so many things they, especially he, wished they could've prevented…
There was the Great War with Windclan after they had sought to claim horseplace, and part of Riverclan's territory, as their own. Lighthawk, one of Streamdash's greatest supporters, had died, but so had Troutfur and Liontail and Shymoon. They'd mourned their aunt's loss for many moons, but eventually they lost their uncle, too, from infected wounds and their cousins were left orphaned.
Then there was Duststripe's untimely death by storm, where the river had flooded the camp and she'd drowned. This did not seem so eventful at the time, but when Rowanleap slowly fell for Tansyfoot, Finchfeather and Reedfrost turned against them; they believed their father was betraying their mother, and naturally all of them were to blame. He hated it.
Crowshade's malevolence had eventually turned his entire family against them: Lilystep was no longer so kind to them, nor so welcoming, in fear of what her mate might do to her. The kits were manipulated by their father's unending mistrust, and soon Hailstorm, Frostpatch, and Gooseclaw turned against them. Becoming outsiders in their own Clan, the trio decided they had to do something drastic.
Windclan was still pushing Riverclan's borders, and had been for some time. This was well known, especially since Windclan's defeat at Riverclan's paws had done nothing to dissuade the land-hungry cats. They decided they'd settle it, and prove their loyalty. Trekking out to the border in the dead of night, they waited to ambush the troublemakers on the other side who thought they could intimidate the water dwellers. The mission was successful…until Windclan's backup patrol arrived. Everyone they'd brought with them: their cousins Smoketail and Egretflight, Hazelnose, and even Silverfish and Heronclaw, were terribly injured in battle, some wounds even proving fatal. Silverfish died in the heat of combat, while Smoketail passed away a moon later from a nasty gash on his belly. Afterwards, many warrior's loyalties turned and they began to distrust the halfclanners and Falconshade, and everyone associated with them. This surge of Streamdash supporters worried the trio's friends, and some turned on them just because they wanted to fit in. Soon, they found themselves essentially alone.
"Papa, what are we going to do?" Blossomclaw whispered nervously once the Clan had settled down for the night. Shimmerstar's family sat vigil over her body, and the four cats had already gone to pay their respects. "We can't fight to stay, there's too few of us, and she won't listen to reason. We can't rebel, we can't overthrow her…"
"I don't know, love, I don't know." Falconshade replied worriedly.
"There's only one thing we can do!" Wolffang hissed, his voice low.
"And what's that? Become kittypets? She'll banish us, no doubt, if she doesn't kill us first!" Hazelstorm growled.
"We have to go back." Wolffang said.
"Go back where?" Blossomclaw snapped furiously, "Where can we go? Any good ideas, birdbrain? How about twolegplace! Maybe even a badger set! What a lovely idea!" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Shadowclan." Wolffang answered quietly. All four of them went silent.
"Would they take us back?" Hazelstorm murmured.
"They'd have to take the three of you back…they'd have to. They respected your mother. Hollowstar is still alive, and I'm sure he'd take you." Falconshade mumbled, as if to himself.
"We won't go without you," Blossomclaw nuzzled her father lovingly. "If they take us, they have to take you too."
"As your new leader," Streamstar announced, having arrived home from the Moonpool, "My first act will be to name a deputy. Crowshade, do you accept this position?"
"I do," The dark gray tom said proudly. Streamstar smiled, a wide and toothy grin.
"Very good. Now, for my second act…" She stared down at Falconshade and the kits. They'd known this was coming. "We, my fellow clanmates, have been living among traitors for too long! One of our own stooped so low as to break the warrior code, and had the audacity to bring his kits, kits born of a broken code, to our Clan!" A dull roar rose up from the surrounding cats, some still too numb from the death of their leader to cheer in agreement or dissent, others silent in their indifference. Wolffang bristled, and Blossomclaw and Hazelstorm pressed against each other in quiet solidarity. Falconshade hung his head, battered by the words of his former clanmates.
"Code breaker!" They howled, "Law shaker! Traitor! Shadowclan scum!" They stomped their paws, and the thunderous pounding shook the earth. Streamstar stood in the center of the mob, looking at her clanmates smugly before raising her tail.
"Silence!" She shouted, and the chanting died down. Tansyfoot glanced at her uncle worriedly, as did Egretflight and Talonblaze, while Fallowfern stared stonily at her cousins from a distance away. Jaystrike looked up at Streamstar with dull eyes, defeated, and his kits gathered mournfully behind him, too stunned with loss and grief to realize the intentions of their new leader.
"For my second act, I summon before the all-seeing eyes of Starclan these four cats: Falconshade, Wolffang, Blossomclaw, and Hazelstorm!" All eyes rested on them. Wolffang held her triumphant stare defiantly. "I banish you from Riverclan, and you are hereby stripped of your names, for you do not deserve the sacred mark of a warrior! Leave us now, and if you're not off our territory by sunset…" A wild light came to the silver she-cat's blazing blue eyes, "it is Starclan's will that we do with you what we wish. Go!"
"Go, go!" The Clan cried, their voices raised in unison, united against them. Wolffang growled, but the furious gazes of cats he once knew as friends and equals burned his like tongues of flame.
"We have to leave," Falconshade hissed, nudging his son's shoulder.
"Be safe, please!" Tansyfoot begged, hazel eyes bright with worry.
"And never return!" Fallowfern screamed. Blossomclaw cried as they turned and fled; silver tears raced down her cheeks as one of the best friends she'd ever known chased her fro her home. Hazelstorm led the way, dark brown tabby tail whipping in the wind as he dashed out of camp. The others followed, breathless, as the young warrior lept across the stepping stones and hit the sand on the other side with a dull thud. At once, he began to run again.
By nightfall, the travelers had reached the outskirts of horseplace, cautiously pacing about the barn. It seemed warm in there, and in the dead of Leafbare the soft light that seeped through the boarded up windows was welcoming, tempting even.
"I won't!" Blossomclaw cried as her brothers tried to coax her inside, "I won't, I'll never! We're warriors, damn it all, we're still warriors! Where is your dignity?"
"You can die with your dignity," Wolffang hissed, "And I'll survive with mine."
"Taking shelter in horseplace! Is this what we've come to?" Blossomclaw snapped furiously. "We're already nameless, and now we're twoleg's pets!"
"You're not nameless!" Falconshade insisted, "Your mother gave you those names, and Streamstar can ever tear that away from you. Shimmerstar made you warriors in the eyes of Starclan as well. Do you think they'd allow someone like Streamstar to take that away from you?"
"Who cares? If Starclan truly watched over us, they wouldn't have let her banish us!" Blossomclaw wailed.
"Maybe they did it for a reason," Hazelstorm offered gently, "Maybe they're telling us we weren't meant to stay."
"It's our home!" Blossomclaw protested.
"No anymore," Wolffang hissed, "Now get inside before you're arguing makes us all freeze to death!" The thick pelted white tom stalked off in the direction of the barn, blending in with the fluffy mounds of fresh snow that had fallen throughout the day's journey. Hazelstorm glanced at his sister before following his brother into the shelter. Blossomclaw sniffled.
"If Starclan's really with us, Papa, where is Whitefang?" She whimpered, like a lost kitten. The scarred ginger tom sighed, and draped his tail over her shoulders as her guided her toward the soft golden glow of the barn.
"She's here, sweet one, I know she is." He murmured.
"She said she'd never leave us," Blossomclaw whispered tearfully, "so where is she now?" Falconshade shook his head and kept walking, trudging through the snow and braving the icy gusts of wind. She kept pace with him, and soon the pair reached the heavy wooden door to the barn, wet and cold and shivering. Falconshade shoved the hulking mass of wood open just enough for the ginger she-cat the wriggle her way inside, and he followed quickly, entering just before the door slammed shut, his tail inches from where the gap was moments before. Wolffang and Hazelstorm had already busied themselves with making nests of straw and stray chicken feathers on the tall stacks of hay. Like golden mountains, the block-like bales were piled atop each other in large towers. The white tom glanced at his sister, and in his blue eyes a twinge of regret glimmered; he knew he'd been too harsh on her. They had just lost their home, their friends, some of the only family they'd ever known. But he knew they had someplace else to go.
Part 1 of 3