Author's Note: Okay. So this was one of my old projects that I wrote all the way back in Year 7. It's been three years, and honestly, my writing back when I was young and foolish was honestly pretty bad. So, in between music courses, writing gay fanfiction, crying over My Chemical Romance [WHY DID THEY HAVE TO BREAK UP? *ugly sobbing*] and flappy bird, I've decided to rewrite this story and its sequel, which I think has been taken down for some unknown reason [I'm lying when I say unknown reason. The reason it got taken down were a bunch of rule following fanatics. If you're reading this, and one of them, then fuck you.]

So here you go.

Prologue-Moonpool

Echoheart stared down into the hollow that held the sacred Moonpool, where the cats of the present contacted the cats of the past. Her faithful medicine cat, Icestorm, stood by her side, and she knew that it was time. Echoheart's old leader, Birchstar, grandson of Dovestar, had died less than a sunrise ago protecting his clan. And so, as the countless leaders of old must have done, she plunged down swiftly into the hollow, paws pattering against the cold, cold stone.

The moonlight struck the pool, and Icestorm motioned for her to drink.

A tingle that started at her nose overcame Echoheart as she lapped at the pool. Sinking down to the ground, she fell into a deep, magically induced sleep, before opening her eyes and lifting her head up to the heavens above. She realised, with a thrill, that the stars were moving, and then the reality hit her.

The old leader of Thunderclan was dead. And she was next in line for the title.

The cats of Starclan prowled around Echoheart, eyes flashing with wisdom and faith. Their pelts smelt of fire and ice, wind and water. Of shadows, and starlight.

All the cats she had ever known, loved, and mourned for seemed to be there. Filled with sadness and awe, Echoheart wondered which one of them would give her the first of the nine lives of a leader.

"Welcome, Echoheart." The voice was of one and yet of many, of the ancient warriors of Starclan, of the wild places of the forest. "Have you come to receive the nine lives of a leader?"

"Yes," Echoheart replied, straightening a little, spotting a familiar figure move in the corner of her sight.

Her mother, the sweet Specklefall, stepped forwards and touched her nose to Echoheart's head. "With this life, I give you protection. Use it well to look after your clan." A bolt of excruciating pain shot through Echoheart, of the fierce protection a mother feels for her kits. She swayed, and then found her feet, biting back a yowl as all of her joints seemed to have locked into place. Next, her father Runningfoot, padded up to touch her fine furred head. "With this life, I give you decision. Use it well, to make the choices that will change your clan, for better…or for worse." As soon as he finished mewing, the fire started.

Her heart was almost ripped apart with the pain of deciding the path for her clan. She knew what she chose would affect her clan forever. Gasping, Echoheart gathered herself for the next life. Suddenly, Rainstone, the lovely, kind elder who had retained her sense of humour for all her life, appeared and mewed: "With this life, I give you humour. Use it well to ease the bumps of life." This life left her breathless, as if she had just had a laughing fit. Her sides hurt, but in a good way. Echoheart smiled weakly.

Brightfire, the queen who had died giving birth to a Riverclan tom's kits, stepped forwards from the ranks of cats. "With this life, I give you loyalty. Use it well, in judging your actions." Sadness overwhelmed her. She felt what Brightfire must have, torn between loyalty and love. Her heart ached and thumped against her ribs, and Echoheart almost collapsed. "I'm so sorry," she murmured. Brighfire's eyes softened and she licked her friend between the ears, before trotting back.

Spottedwing, the gentle warrior who had died in a rockfall one morning, took her place. "With this life, I give you tireless energy. Use it well, to defend your clan." Echoheart's paws tingled, and she felt like she was flying across the whole territory, in pursuit of a rabbit, her paws barely skimming the ground.

She took in huge gulps of air, as Barktail, killed by a badger, came forwards. "With this life, I give you wisdom." he whispered, nudging her ears. "Use it well, to judge your clan…and others." Echoheart looked up at him, just before she felt like her skull was going to implode. She was filled with battleplans made over countless moons, the advice of her senior warriors, and she glimpsed a pair of ice blue eyes.

But before she could ask Barktail what he meant, he retreated, sending only a mournful glance over his shoulder.

And then her eyes widened when she saw who was next.

Runningsong.

The previous deputy, who was also her littermate.

"Runningsong!" Echoheart cried out. Her heart was wrenched with grief and joy, and she barely stopped herself from launching forwards. Her sister looked at her, and sadness cascaded over her like a waterfall.

"With this life, I give you compassion." Runningsong meowed gently, placing a lick to her sister's cheek. "Use it well, to care for those who are weak and in need of help." Pain racked her sides, and she knew she was dying. Hunger gnawed her sides, and she knew she was not going to live, before the feeling faded away, replaced with content and life.

Too late, Echoheart realised that Runningsong was walking away. "No!" she wailed. "Don't go! Stay with me!" Her sister looked back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, before turning away, tail hanging low.

Echoheart was about to run after her when she glimpsed a grey tabby tom, and her heart almost stopped. It was Swiftheart, the handsome former medicine cat apprentice who had died after being hit on the Thunderpath. He had been her first love, and they both knew it. He had loved her, too, and she had been devastated when Huntsong bought back his broken body.

"With this life," Swiftheart meowed softly, head held high under the gazes of the other spirit cats, "I give you love. Use it well in your leadership of Thunderclan. Love them like your own kits, young and old, for all of time." Peace enveloped Echoheart, like her mother nuzzling her when she was little. Swiftheart pushed his head close to hers before murmuring his final words to her. "I'm so, so sorry that I left you. I didn't want to. But I had to. My time was up."

Finally, Birchstar padded up, returned to youth and energy once more with his death. "Greetings, Echoheart, my apprentice, my warrior, and my deputy." He dipped his head to her. "With this life," he proclaimed, his voice strong and proud, "I give you nobility and certainty and faith. Use it well in service of your clan. Prove to us you are worthy of the leadership of Thunderclan." Agony shot through Echoheart, and she was filled with the fierceness of certainty to do what was right, the fiery faith in her clan. She stood atop the branch of the tree where gatherings were held, wind rippling in her fur.

As she gasped, Birchstar announced: "I hail you by your new name, Echostar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and Starclan grants you the leadership of Thunderclan. Defend it well, care for the young and old; honour your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code, live each life with pride and dignity."

"Echostar! Echostar! Echostar!" chanted the cats of Starclan as they raised their voices in tribute, eyes shining with pride and happiness.

Just as the dream began to blur at the edges, three magnificent cats entered the clearing and the Moonpool snapped into clarity once more. One was a fiery tom, with piercing green eyes. Echostar had heard of the legendary Firestar, who had been succeeded by Lionstar, then Dovestar. She shivered as she met the icy blue gaze of the second cat, a blue-grey she cat. Bluestar, one of the greatest leaders of Thunderclan, whose fabled name had been passed down through the ages. Finally, she uttered the name of the ginger tom with half-white legs.

"Thunderstar."

He smiled kindly. "Indeed it is." Then, his expression grew sombre. Bluestar's meow broke through the air. "Echostar, we have come to give you a prophecy."

"Listen carefully, as this will determine the future of Thunderclan, and all the other clans," added Firestar. Then, the three leaders leaned forward, and from their mouths poured the omen:

"Time of snow and the clear stone
Will come from a foreign land to hone
The ancient skills of claw and fangs.
Yet over their heads a prophecy hangs:
They will fight the one with foot of blood,
To prevent the danger-a Shadow flood.

But the last two lines made Echostar's fur stand on end and a chill crawl up her back, spidering legs of tension and fear.

"But beware; for we will make this clear
If there is a mistake, the end is be near…"

Thunderstar sighed. "Fare thee well, Echostar. Rule your clan justly, and well. Until we meet again."

"Until we meet again." repeated Firestar and Bluestar.

And the cats of Starclan began to fade.

Echostar's eyes snapped open. The three leader's voices whispered in her ear as she stood up, shaking out her fur and exchanging a glance with Icestorm.

"The time of Shadow has come…"

A/N: So that was that. Please, review and tell me what you think. Find me on AO3 as Mikey_The_Unicorn, for works that are slightly less cat-based.

Song of the chapter: Deathbeds by Bring Me The Horizon, from the Deathbeds EP.

Until the next chapter, May Starclan light your path.

-Frankie