Hello everyone, and as you should know, this is the sequel of my other story, Leaves in the Wind. So if you haven't read that one yet, then I don't recommend that you go any further.
Well, on to the prologue.
Oh, and welcome to the new story: Fading Light.
Enjoy!
. . .
He was running.
The snow underneath his paws was icy and cold, scorching the pads of his paws like icy fire.
Must get away...
His thoughts were muddled, and he was confused.
Why am I running?
He knew he was young, but he didn't know by how much.
And all he knew was that he had to get away.
Because in his world, the failure of a task was punishable by death, and he had been given a task.
He had known it was of grave importance, it had been driven into his head since he was a tiny kit. He had been the only one that his father had trusted the task to, but he had refused, believing that one of the older cats could do it better.
That was the first mistake he made.
The second was openly refusing his father.
And the third was running away.
And this was where he was now: barely a moon old and out in the harshest weather of leafbare.
He now knew what he had done wrong: he had openly refused his father, tarnishing his reputation forever, and now, he was being chased on 'kill on sight orders'.
He had done everything wrong, and now, he was paying the price.
With an inaudible sigh, he stopped.
His paws were burning and his pelt was half frozen with snow. If he didn't get out of the cold soon, then he'd die. And just thinking of that made him shudder.
Because in reality, if he didn't fulfill his father's ambitions, then he would die.
Without warning, his legs gave out, and a moment later, he was a shuddering mess of icy, frozen fur, shivering from the harshest colds that leafbare threw at him.
I-I... have to... survive...
He drew in a sharp breath, the air whooshing into his lungs with a sharp, icy bite.
I have to live because...
His vision was steadily beginning to flicker black, but one, unwavering thought ran through his mind.
I have to live, because I am Dusk, and in order to survive, I must fulfill my father's ambitions.
And with a shuddering gasp, his vision went black and he knew nothing.
. . .
Darkfire
Darkfire was irritated.
Why?
There were many reasons, and did he have to explain?
He guessed he would.
One: It was the middle of leafbare, and it was utterly freezing.
Two: There was barely any prey to go around, and without the sustenance of food, the Clan was beginning to starve.
And three: New kits had been born into the Clan, and because of the famine and starvation that was currently plaguing them, the kits were steadily becoming weaker.
To make things worse, Darkfire's kits were also among those few.
Needless to say, Darkfire wasn't very happy.
He was irritated because as the Clan deputy, he was expected to venture out in this cold, and even with his thick, wooly pelt, he'd probably freeze.
Well, at least Fernstar had forbidden the apprentice's from going out, but the only cats in the apprentices' den were Dawnhaze's kits: Oakpaw and Streampaw.
Darkfire sighed, his shoulders drooping, and leaving the comforting warmth of his nest, he ventured out into the bitter cold, his first stop being the nursery.
Darkfire knew that his mate, Blackwing, was waiting for him, as were their kits.
When Blackwing and him had first become mates, other cats had questioned their sanity.
Darkfire didn't blame them, of course, seeing as he was over fifteen moons her senior. But he loved her, and nothing can break apart love, or so his mother used to say.
Darkfire's first pawstep into the snow shocked him beyond belief, and as soon as that first drop of sharp, icy cold seeped into his pelt, he winced. But he was Clan deputy, and he had his pride, not to mention that there were countless other cats in front of him, namely an old deputy's kits.
Darkfire spotted Dustcloud first.
It wasn't very hard, either, considering that her pelt was a bright, golden colour. When Darkfire was in talking distance with her, he mewed a greeting.
She seemed surprised at first, and Darkfire had to suppress a snort. He wasn't that cold hearted, that was only Fernstar's sister, Leafstorm, speaking.
"Darkfire," Dustcloud mewed, her blue eyes widening at the sight of his snow-ruffled self. "Hi."
Darkfire nodded at her curtly, and he was somewhat surprised to see her two siblings, Breezefur and Lionfang standing by her side. But they were siblings, and incredibly close. Even more so after the death of their father, Silverflame.
Breezefur squinted at him, his brilliant eyes narrowing at him past the snow. "Darkfire?" He questioned, his deepened mew sounding very much like his departed father.
In fact, Breezefur was a near carbon copy of his father, but there were touches of his mother, Honeypelt, here and there, like his gently tapered ears and smaller frame and eye shape.
Dustcloud looked very much like her mother, right down to the blue eyes.
But it was Lionfang, the ThunderClan medicine cat, who seemed to be a perfect blend of them both. His pelt was a murky gold colour and his eyes were the same shade of green that his father had possessed.
"Yes," Darkfire rumbled. "If you don't mind, I want to see my mate before we go on patrol."
Breezefur nodded curtly while Dustcloud groaned at the mere thought of border patrol.
Darkfire gazed at her sternly, though. And almost instantly, the golden she-cat deflated, and she mumbled, "Fine, I'll be there."
Darkfire shook his head almost fondly as he entered the Clan's nursery. When he caught sight of his mate sitting in the corner, I immediately padded over to her, and the sight of his two kits curled up at her belly filled him with warmth.
His two kits were now two moons old, and they were the cutest things that he'd ever laid eyes on.
His daughter, Rainkit, was a blue-grey colour with light green eyes, her mother's eyes.
His son, Mistkit, was a dark, near black colour with his eyes, amber.
But right now, his mate and kits were sleeping, so Darkfire gave them each a fond lick on the top of their heads and padded toward the entrance. On his way out, he caught the incredulous gaze of Leafstorm.
Darkfire had to stifle a sort of snicker at the sight of her, she looked ridiculous with her mouth parted like that.
But suddenly, her green eyes abruptly hardened and she sent Darkfire a poisonous glare, all the while glancing at her own kits. Darkfire snorted at her sudden defense, but her mate, her silent protecter, sent him a warning look, and the message in those chilling blue eyes clearly stated, 'Stay away or else'.
"I have no desire to touch her or her kits," he muttered, watching as his former apprentice's head inclined, a silent thanks present in his constantly cold eyes.
Darkfire met Dustcloud and Breezefur at the entrance, and together, they ventured out into the bitter cold.
They must have patrolled for what seemed like hours, and just as Darkfire was getting ready to call it a day, Dustcloud suddenly gasped, her blue eyes averting to the ground.
Darkfire followed her gaze, and saw what appeared to be a lump of something safely nestled underneath immeasurable amounts of snow. He frowned, shooting a questioning look at Dustcloud.
The golden she-cat shrugged, purposefully striding towards the lump and digging it up. It took a few minutes, but what Dustcloud dug up, shocked even him.
By then, Darkfire had appeared beside her, and was studiously examining the scrap of fur dangling from her mouth.
It appeared to be a kit.
A pitiful, pathetic scrap of grey fur.
But despite its half-frozen appearance, Darkfire knew that it still lived.
"Can we take him back, Darkfire?" Dustcloud mumbled around the kit.
Darkfire considered it for a moment. He knew that if they were to take this half-dead kit back with us, then there'd be consequences, grave ones.
But if they didn't take it back?
What then?
Would Darkfire be ostracised by the Clan for leaving a helpless kit behind?
After pondering for awhile, he finally mewed, "Yes. We'll take it back, but if Fernstar asks, then it was your idea."
"Of course," Dustcloud immediately mewed. "I'll take full responsibility."
"Very well," Darkfire rumbled. "Let's head back, this cold is driving me crazy."
Breezefur mewed in agreement while his sister remained silent.
Darkfire sighed, enjoying the rare silence while it lasted. He knew that it would disappear as soon as they arrived at camp. And true to his word, it did.
As soon as some of his Clanmates caught sight of the scrap of fur dangling from Dustcloud's jaws, there was an immediate uproar. But as quickly as it had come, it had disappeared with the sound of Fernstar's forceful voice.
The ThunderClan leader herself seemed to materialise in front of Darkfire, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from flinching.
From the first time she had arrived in ThunderClan, Fernstar had been immature and needy to the point of being insufferable. When she had been an apprentice, Darkfire had just barely been able to tolerate her. But after a near-death experience with an adder, Fernstar mellowed out, gaining her mate, Brightfeather's love in the process. When she became a warrior, Darkfire was grudgingly impressed at her fiery, hot-headed persona.
Then, Silverflame had been killed, and just barely a warrior herself, Fernstar had been appointed the deputyship of ThunderClan. Darkfire had watched as she was seemingly at a loss for words at Froststar's exclamation. But she swore to serve her Clan to the fullest, and she did, becoming leader shortly after.
Darkfire gazed at the ThunderClan leader as if he'd never seen her in his life. She was pretty, but not beautiful. Lithe muscles rippled underneath her dark ginger pelt, and as he lifted his gaze to her face, he felt a shudder rumble through me.
Fernstar was truly a sight to behold. The tips of her tapered ears were shredded, and on her face, two ghastly looking scars parted soft fur, cutting through her left eye. Her eyes were green, but while her right eye was vibrant and clear, her left one was cloudy like glass.
Blind.
Darkfire blinked when he saw Fernstar's mouth move.
"Could you repeat that?" He mumbled, his tone weary.
Fernstar shot him a sharp look before mewing, "Where did you find that kit?"
"... in the snow," Darkfire murmured, already tired of this conversation.
Honestly, couldn't Fernstar have chosen someone else for her deputy instead of him?
He was hardly suited for the job, and at this point, he now understood Foxheart, a previous deputy's reluctance.
Like him, Darkfire never wanted to be deputy, but in order to properly serve the Clan, he had to be.
So for now, he would have to deal with it.
Fernstar suddenly sighed, sounding just as weary as Darkfire currently felt.
"Fine then," she murmured. "ThunderClan will take this kit in, regardless of his origins."
Her words were like steel, and Darkfire found himself grudgingly impressed. Fernstar was a good leader despite being so young, even more so than the previous leader, Froststar.
ThunderClan looked as if they wanted to protest, but all it took was one glare from Fernstar's half-blind eyes before they went silent.
Darkfire suppressed a snort, and indicated for Dustcloud to follow him. The golden she-cat complied, striding behind him purposefully.
When Darkfire entered the nursery, he encountered Fernstar's three moon old daughter: Rosekit.
Rosekit gazed at him curiously, her big green eyes wide and wary as she took in the new arrival's form.
"Move," Darkfire rumbled.
Rosekit just stared back up at him fierce eyes, and wordlessly, she stepped to the side.
Darkfire thanked her with a silent nod and made a beeline to Blackwing who was miraculously awake.
"Darkfire?" She mumbled, cracking open light green eyes. "What are you doing in here?"
"I wanted to ask you a favour," he replied shortly.
Blackwing then regarded him with interest, and while gesturing to Dustcloud, he mewed, "I want you to nurse him. Can you do that?"
Blackwing's curious gaze quickly turned to one of disgust, and she exclaimed, "No way, Darkfire! Besides, I don't have any milk left to spare, Rainkit and Mistkit need it more than some rogue!"
Darkfire sighed, he knew that it would come to this, and there was only one option left, and it was one he was dreading.
There was only Leafstorm left, and Darkfire wasn't sure if she would accept the little kit as her own.
But he had to try, if he didn't, then the kit would starve to death, if his thinness was anything to go by.
Darkfire padded toward Leafstorm who regarded him with weary, tired eyes. "What do you want?" She snapped.
"I want you to nurse this kit," Darkfire said bluntly.
The ginger she-cat's eyes flew to the kit dangling from Dustcloud's jaws. Gradually, her hardened eyes began to soften, and she said tiredly, "Put him at my belly, Dustcloud."
Darkfire didn't know if it was Dustcloud who had gotten the usually cold Leafstorm to relent, but at this moment, he couldn't care less.
Darkfire watched in interest as Dustcloud carefully placed the little kit in between Leafstorm's own slumbering kits. He knew that Leafstorm's own kits were barely a half-moon old, and that they hadn't opened their eyes yet, so he pin-pointed the age of the male to be just that: half a moon old.
"Will you name him?" Darkfire mewed, gazing at Leafstorm.
Said cat merely scoffed, shaking her head. "Don't be ridiculous, Darkfire, he can tell us when he wakes."
He nodded accepting her excuse, because he knew that deep down, this kit would do something horrendous.
His presence here in ThunderClan could make it...
Or break it.