Crystalline Stars
This is a warriors fanfiction. Some elements of the story have been changed from the books. The cats have special abilities and powers granted to them after the prologue.
Hail fell in thick sheets upon the clearing. The hard, icy pellets drummed against the ground in a staccato downpour of nature's stinging wrath. Storm clouds blackened the skies and blotted out the sun, whipping up a chilled wind that blew the hail this was and that. The frost-edged leaves swirled in tumultuous whirlwinds, and the very air seemed to be emanating a sense of fury. Stout, ancient birch trees and wispy saplings alike bent and twisted in the powerful gusts of wind. The rivers and streams sloshed about and growled madly, slapping the muddied banks with cold spray. Only the occasional faltering of the wind offered respite from the violent storm. The only sounds to be heard were the steady plink-plinkof hailstones on upturned, windblown leaves. Still, the storm could not stop this event. Long had this occurrence gone on, may ages before the forest's inhabitants could remember. Even a tempest such as this would not keep it from happening. Not a one had been missed. Not since the dawn of the stars had a gathering been stopped. Tonight would be no different.
Even as the lithe, shadowy forms slipped into the open expanse of granite and moonbeams, shaking the sticky, cold hail from their pelts, the age old importance of this event could be seen in their neon eyes. Their determination to arrive here, to sit through the night in this storm, only to talk and relive the events of the past was of the utmost concern for them. It was their history that had come and gone, the history that was to be made, and still, more than that.
From the huddle of feline shapes emerged five cats. Their eyes glowed in the darkness, their pelts ruffled and dotted with small white clumps. Their position of power were clear in their stature, in the light of their eyes, in the way they led their clans to the clearing, into ShineStones. The cats followed their leaders, settling into their own places, some with their own clan, some mixed in with others. The select few shifted their gaze to the skies, watching the moon and stars, as if sensing what changes might occur in the weather, or if the light of their ancestors should be swallowed by the growing, billowy masses of cloud rallying at the edges of the night's navy blue dome. A few of the apprentices huddled in a shivering mass, supervised by a few older warriors. Their tails and paws were tucked under their chests, coiled tightly by their sides. One warrior was sitting by the apprentices, eyeing them worriedly. Another warrior of a different clan, a senior by the looks of it, sat nearby her. "They look cold." the senior warrior commented, a strange echo in her voice. Her eyes were tinged with sadness, even as the apprentices pricked their ears and began to chat, if halfheartedly. The leaders called out to their clans, starting the gathering in the clearing. Standing upon the mottled, colorful granite stone floor, the young warrior followed the senior warrior in herding the apprentices towards the StoneField where the gemstones lay in scattered masses. Their origin was unknown, but for many centuries, they had lain here, holding the power of the stars in their glittering beauty. Sapphires, topaz, alexandrite and hundreds of other varieties of gems could be seen shimmering through the sheets of hail and blowing winds.
Each cat approached a stone, laying down beside them and slowly touching their noses to the chilled stones, a few of them flinching as they felt the cold shock flow through them. They fell into a slumber, one by one, the leaders with their eyes sweeping over each cat. They were the last to fall asleep, and the last to share dreams with their ancestors. The dreams of those around them were shared between them and their own relatives, but the leaders shared dreams with all of their ancestors. The dreams of tonight held promise. Good things were to come, but it was a promise that would be broken in the many moons to come. A promise with a dark future in its path.