Chapter One: Humble Beginnings
All she could hear was that awful ringing in her ears.
She found herself just barely hanging on the edge of consciousness, the world around her threatening to turn dark at any moment. Hot, searing pain throbbed on one side of her face, and there was the sting of wounds from brutal battle. Blood pooled in her right eye. I can't see, I can't see, she fretted, anxiety settling like a stone in her gut. Her left eye shot open, but the world around her was blurred and she couldn't quite make out the faces of the cats around her, no matter how hard she strained. Sudden flashes wracked her mind- the dogs, the dogs- and she squirmed in her moss-laden nest.
"Pack pack, kill kill," she frantically murmured, her heart racing with the feeling of impending danger, "pack pack, kill kill."
She heard frightened murmurs around her, like a chorus of babbling brooks. They were going to drown her with the noise, she felt herself choking in the sound-
"Brightpaw, what do you mean?" Among the chatter she picked out her mother's sweet voice. She wanted so badly to curl up near her, take in her warm scent, but every movement brought pain.
With a start, she remembered who she had been with.
"Where's Swiftpaw?" She choked out, her throat rough and dry. When no one answered, she asked again, "Where is Swiftpaw?"
She was only met with sympathetic glances. She felt the ground drop out from underneath her, her stomach rising up into her throat. No, no, he isn't. He can't be.
She felt herself heave up whatever food she held in her stomach. Weakness flooded her limbs, washed up into her head and made her vision go dark again. The last thing she heard was Cinderpelt ushering her crowd out of the den.
As the morning sun rose, so did the sweltering heat. Humidity made every cat's fur ruffle up into gentle ploufs, and hunting and training was all the more exhausting. Brightpaw woke to an aching pain on the side of her face and in her muscles. Her body was still sticky with matted blood, and her face felt like she had just stuck it into a beehive ripe with honey. She lay there, her ears simply listening to the chatter of birds in the trees, the gentle whoops and chirps that drifted from the thick forest. The medicine den was quiet, shaded by the two leaning rocks. Brightpaw reached a paw to touch the earth. The dirt felt cool underpaw, and suddenly she longed to go for a walk. She was about to get up when she heard a mewl,
"What are you doing?"
Her gaze shot towards the entrance to the den. The young warrior, Cloudtail, flinched as she turned her face to him. His gaze held sympathy, worry, and…. Fear?
"I just… Wanted to go for a walk," she muttered, knowing all too well that no cat would let her do that.
"I think you should rest," he soothed, approaching her slowly. "Um…. How are you feeling?"
He sounded uncomfortable, and she wondered what for. She tried to sit up in her nest only to drop back down as the ache flashed to a throb. "Still hurts," she mewed through gritted teeth.
The white warrior simply nodded.
"How's everyone else doing? Are the dogs still there?"
Cloudtail gave a shrug of his fluffy shoulders. "We don't know, Brightpaw. Every apprentice and queen must have supervision when going out now."
Brightpaw sat in silence for a while, listening to the sway of leaves and the songs of birds. Her gaze stayed trained on a blade of grass outside the den. She still couldn't see through her right eye. She wondered if Cinderpelt had it patched up; it must have suffered a pretty heavy blow. She tried to close her eye to see if she could feel the cobweb and moss covering it, but all she felt was a raw sting.
"We didn't think you'd make it through the night," Cloudtail breathed, his blue eyes still trained away from her.
Brightpaw's eye widened, and she looked towards him, shocked. Wouldn't make it? "My injuries are bad, but they aren't that bad, are they?"
Cloudtail was refusing to look at her now.
"Cloudtail? They're not that bad?"
The warrior closed his eyes. "Look in the pool," he instructed.
"What?" Confused, she shakily got up, her body straining with the effort. Her muscles screamed for her to lay back down, to rest, but her mind was frantic and rushing her faster towards the small dip of water. Her front paws sliding on the muddier dirt around it, she gazed into the clear surface. Her heart lurched.
What she saw before her wasn't her. This cat's ear was torn up beyond recognition, had fur torn and ripped and dangling. Fresh scars scored the length of the right side of their face, the skin puckered and scabbed where the blood had stopped running. Pink flesh shown underneath the grisly marks, and most of all-
Their eye was replaced with nothing but a swollen socket, wrinkled flesh filling the space where it used to be.
She gasped and backed away, falling back onto her haunches in the shock of what she had seen. That wasn't her reflection. She didn't look like that. Panic began to settle in her chest, her heart fluttering frantically like a bird ensnared in a pair of claws.
"No, no, no," she whispered, backing away from the cursed reflection. "I'm not.. That isn't…"
"Cloudtail?" A new voice appeared at the entrance, but Brightpaw refused to turn and look. "Why is she out of her nest?" She felt a cat gently heard her back to the bed of moss, and even after she settled into the plush bedding, the ache in her didn't subside. "Cloudtail, what did you say to her?" The voice was stern, angry, and she heard both her visitors retreat to the outer part of the medicine den. They were speaking in hushed whispered, words she refused to hear. Her mind was stuck on the image. That's not me, I don't look like that. That wasn't me.
The cat reappeared in the den, her voice soothing now, "Brightpaw, you should get some more rest."
Brightpaw craned her neck to look at their medicine cat, Cinderpelt. "I'm disgusting," she choked, her throat burning as tears threatened to spill over. "I'm a monster."
"Brightpaw, no," Cinderpelt shook her head as she rested her tail on her spine, "you are not a monster."
"But my face-"
"Yes, you're disfigured. Yes, you suffered a horrible accident. But that will never stop you from becoming a great cat, Brightpaw," Cinderpelt paused, glancing at her crumpled hind leg, "it didn't stop me."
Brightpaw gazed at her, suddenly feeling a harsh wave of empathy for the gray medicine cat.
"Now, let's get you some poppy seeds. You need more rest if we're going to get you back on your paws." She padded over to the divots in the earth where plants and herbs lay resting in their store. With her paws she scooped out several of the little rounded herbs. "Eat these and it should help you get some more sleep." She gave Brightpaw a warm smile. "It will be ok, I promise."
Brightpaw gave a small nod, appreciative of how gentle she was being with her. Lapping up the poppy seeds, she curled up tight into her nest, her eye closing as she slowly drifted into sleep.