Chapter 1/The Exile

The ghostly fog cast a gloomy feeling of uneasiness on the dark green ShadowClan forest.

Dead silent.

A crow caws.

A cat's horrified shriek breaks the silence.

Scuffling, cat screams, and the stench of blood wafted from the woods.

"Traitors! Fox-hearted traitors!" yowled one

The violence grew closer and closer to the edge of the marsh and pine trees. Yowls viciously followed. In the shadows, outlines of cats could be seen mauling and striking and biting.

Finally, two warriors threw a huge black tom across the border. He roared at them in protest. He was followed by a lithe dark gray she-cat, who was being pinned by dark warrior.

"Get off me!" she spat as she squirmed under his claws. Her attacker merely hissed.

"Blackfang! Help!"

"Toadsky! Help Herontail!" yowled Blackfang as he clawed a small warrior across the muzzle.

Toadsky, a light gray cat, bounded from the marsh. He rounded up, and raked his claws down the dark warrior's back.

"AH! GET AWAY YOU-"

As quick as a viper, Toadsky swiftly kicked around the dark tom's hind legs, causing him to tumble, and roll onto his back. He looked up nervously at Toadsky. He stared back his his ferocious green eyes. The dark cat quickly scrambled to his paws and scrambled away. Toadsky, Blackfang, and Herontail glanced at one another, then at the forest.

"Let's go, we're the only rebels left," growled Blackfang.

"But Morningheart and Spiderstripe are still in there!" meowed Herontail anxiously.

A huge, muscular golden tom leads his warriors closer to the outnumbered cats.

"Toadsky!" he bellowed, "You were my most trusted deputy! How could you betray your own clan and kin?"

"I betrayed your way of life, Lionstar. I did this for my kin!" yowled Toadsky. Lionstar's face only angered. He dug his yellow claws into the ground.

"Leave, you rouge, or die!"

Suddenly, a large group of cats gathered around the ShadowClan border. A silver tom stood above the others.

"Dewstar. Leader of ThunderClan. I assume you managed to exterminate all the traitors within your boundaries?" asked Lionstar.

"We drove them out, yes. But only one life was lost within our borders."

Lionstar narrowed his eyes.

"We came chasing two rouges. We just caught them, and were escorting them to the border," he nodded to two cats, a dark ginger she-cat, and a pale tom with with stripes, who both lowered their heads in shame.

Dewstar just stared at them, "Well? What are you waiting for? Leave! You're not welcome here!" The two cats joined Herontail Blackfang and Toadsky. Blackfang shot the leaders a menacing glance, before joining his allies in the other direction. They slumped away in shame until the forest was no longer in sight. The five outcasts took shelter inside a fallen tree when it began to rain.

"Spiderstripe! Morningheart! Where were you?" growled Blackfang.

Spiderstripe glared up at Blackfang, "The warriors drove an attack down the river. It messed up our attack plan."
"I told you to make a back-up plan in case something like that happened!

"That was our back-up plan! Maybe if you-"

"Oh, stop quarreling like kits! We get it, the uprising against the leaders failed," snapped Herontail, waving her dark gray tail in frustration, "No use in arguing about it now."

The five cat sat there in silence, only the rain battering at the tree could be heard. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"What do you think happened to the rest of the rebels?" meowed Morningheart, breaking the silence.

"Most were driven out, far past twolegplace. They scattered us pretty good to make sure we couldn't counter-attack. A lot of them were killed, though. Mostly around Sunningrocks, where most of the battle was taking place. But I'm the only ShadowClan converter that survived," explained Toadsky, sadly, "Lionstar wasn't showing any mercy."

Morningheart glanced at the other three cats, "Well? Would do we do now?"

Herontail and Toadsky exchanged glances. Blackfang shuffled a leaf with his paw.

"We attacked the leaders to end the reign of one supreme leader," piped Spiderstripe, "The only way to bring our ideas to life is to pursue it ourselves."

Blackfang cocked his head, "You mean, rally the rebels? We could try, but most of them are long gone-"

"No. I...well...um,"

"What?"

"We may have no hope of rallying the rebels, or going back to the clans. We have no place in this land, let alone to stay. Our goal, for many seasons, was to start a new era. A time of peace, with less battles. But maybe we didn't need a full-scale rebellion, or master attack plan to make that happen."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we can start a legacy by ourselves, we don't need five clans to accomplish that. We can start a new clan, or tribe, or colony or whatever. There will be a system we've always dreamed of establishing. We'll be the founding members, and our descendants will follow our footsteps," explained Spiderstripe.

Herontail rubbed her head against Toadsky's, "Well, I have always wanted kits. And we won't have to worry about an uprising."

Toadsky purred.

"But where will we go? We certainly can't stay here," meowed Morningheart.

"Of course not. We'll find a new place," grumbled Blackfang.

"Yeah, we can be a new clan! Mix-a-clan!" exclaimed Spiderstripe.

Morningheart rolled her eyes.

"Nah. Maybe a a gang? Society? Set?" said Blackfang.

Herontail flicked her tail, "Let's not focus on what we're calling our little alliance. We have more important things to discuss.

And throughout the stormy day and into the night, the five rouges discussed indeed. Soon after, they took a great journey, miles and miles away from their great defeat. After moons of exploring the countryside, they found two mighty rivers. In between was a glorious island. After several litters of kits had been properly raised here, they decided to call themselves The Islanders. Their vast and protective home was a paradise to the former rouges. They spent moons there. These moons turned into seasons. Seasons turned to years. The cats had found their new home. They spent several generations here, passing on their long-hoped for way of life. The original five, Blackfang, Herontail, Spiderstripe, Morningheart and Toadsky decided never to share any knowledge of their history, the rebellion, or even the clans. But they agreed to keep a few clan traditions alive, such as the naming system, but began their own culture. Life wasn't perfect, of course. Swamp cat regularly harassed the Islanders. Large beasts were common. But despite the challenges, the Islanders made a successful community, with successful kits and plenty of prey. The reign of the Islanders has begun. But for how long was unsure.