The Violet Hour
Full Summary
It's coming..
Every sixty moons a magical flower blooms, only during the Violet Hour. After that period of time ends, the flower withers, never to experience life again until the next hour occurs. With its majestic appearance and beautiful aroma it lures any creature in, healing even the most ill being.
In her most desperate time of need, Frozenfeather, a medicine cat, has taken to the legend of the infamous Violet Hour and hopes to save the one she deeply cares for, one who is dying. She is neither aware of when the hour starts nor does she know when it ends; but Frozenfeather is willing to attempt the impossible. Will she be able to find this eerie flower? Or will she miss her chance?
When will the Violet Hour end?
.
The Violet Hour
The hour of rush and wonder, when the affections glow again and valor is reborn, when the shadows deepen magically along the edge of the forest..
– Bernard DeVoto, The Hour
Prologue - Hope Emerges Within the Darkest Shadow
An act of valor. How could something simply honorable progress so vainly?
Since the beginning of time itself, things have taken a turn for the worst, lost in their own sinful nature. It is as natural as a tree loses its foliage in leaf-fall, but it approaches life subtly. For we are drenched so deep that daily actions do not affect us like they should.
As lies are told to intoxicate thinking, the most common cat mutates their appearance with such guile. Twisting the truth - even slightly - to fit our description of what we long for does not make it right. Once you bend or alter something, it is no longer how it originated, and everything is soon to be discovered.
Beneath the triumph and glory of what looked as courage was unearthed during even the coldest of evenings, as a trust was betrayed.
...
A meadow of lilacs and daises filled the land, swaying with the wind in its own rhythm. Heather softly floated through the air as it danced to a tune - one that spread across the seas and split through blue skies, vibrating as the smallest hummingbird's wings flutter. It was a peaceful noise, never to experience the menacing way of the world, until something this simple turned into a place of hatred and battle. As the field flourished with vibrant colors and hues, it was unaware a disaster was erupting from the cruelest of hearts. Even in what seemed was a creation without flaw, the origination of evil was imminent.
An exchange of snarls centered the flurry of teeth and claws that invigorated the moorland.
A ginger tom shouted, angrily raising his voice above screeching and battle cries, "You will never claim more territory as your own!"
"No one can anticipate what will happen on this ground," an older cat stated, smirking. The satisfaction of what he expected the outcome to be rolled across his muzzle, fresh scratches running across it. Crimson streaked his dirt-colored coat which caused it to glisten over lean muscles that were impatiently awaiting to strike a deafening blow.
Now, in a more menacing way, a growl escaped his throat, eyes slitted, "But I assure you, the most worthy cat shall come out alive."
"Worthy? You speak of being worthy and possessing honor, but you know nothing of it!" The nerved cat spat in reply. "Your kind will only remain at the bottom of the forest floor, burn away and leave nothing of your remembrance but ash." Anger coursed through his veins, resulting words to form into something more insensitive than desired.
"And I will take every individual fighting on this battlefield down with me!"
Cringing through forest green eyes, a different kind of disgust emerged - not that consisting of wishes and schemes to harm the other cat but a sorrowful yearning to bring contempt that would unfold into something much greater than hatred could ever bring. It really was a disgust only of what this world had become, what monsters it had created - such as the one before him.
The ginger tabby grew weaker with every passing moment during such a conflict, breaths growing shallower. "You spoke of making us stronger; now we stand against you until the death!" He had courage to challenge such a ruthless cat, especially as he was much younger and inexperienced, but the tom also had good intentions growing in his heart - which was more valuable than any other aspects.
"Then I shall not have to wait for long," the dusted brown creature quickly replied, something to be feared scorching through his golden eyes.
Soon, flashes of light purple struck across the sky every few moments, streaks of lines patterned in jagged forms appearing quickly before. If the right moment one caught their eye on such a masterpiece, they would experience exhilarating beauty. A loud, booming noise roared through the evening, disagreeing with the battle about to take place in the once pure land; for it knew what was about to come.
With great precision, the older tom struck just as the lightning had - with no notice of its coming or going, lunging for the bite that would drain all life from a being.
Blood trickled down the face of the cat with a simple saffron pelt; to some he may not be anybody - nonexistent, but in that moment he felt more emotion than he probably had in half his lifetime, alive as in death. In that moment of his last breath, he was neither filled with regret nor had pleads for his life buzzing through his mind. All he thought about was the great joy of the better life to come for him and a hope he wished for ones he was leaving behind. It was a seemingly horrific thing to realize that your whole life lasted longer than you could imagine - yet it was nothing compared to eternity, that you had to stand through the pain and grief you experienced - yet your last moment was taken away too quickly for you to even grasp dying.
But this tom accepted it, even if he almost longed to stay conscious through searing pain so he could live for just minutes longer.
As anticipated, the older tom had clasped his teeth around the others throat, towering over as he watched all that physically stirred the younger cat pour out.
A clap of thunder grew louder and immediately drops of cleansing liquid fell from above. Washing away a dirtied clearing, the shower provided a new chance and erased evidence of a corrupt past - even if it had already spread its contagion.
...
Only then, was the innocence irrevocably replaced with a consuming darkness, haunted by death.
But after all that has been revealed, what if you were told there was hope? All but one flower was destroyed that evening, after the battle had continued shortly on.
The vanity of surrounding enemies created a barrier of destruction and unending distress, yet the glowing violet illuminated the night with a promise - faith and love.
It was hidden where the conflict had started and ended itself. The flower was protected by what kindness kindled through even the dead - for the were never truly dead to begin with. Though, every other little plant had been overcome with the wrongdoing of many, this one flower intricately dissipated any evil within contact. Its touch would heal generations to come because everything good was shining through its glow.
And in that, the Violet Hour had submerged. The hour death had lost its sting because of those willing to sacrifice themselves for others - so that they had a choice to not be overcome by a slithering evil.
Because where there is darkness, there is also light.
Many acts of selfishness and lust have been shared in more than just a story such as this, but even if the actions by a true heart are forgotten, their paw prints are never worn away with time. On the moon in which the Violet Hour occurs, valor will be reborn and wonder will reveal itself to the deepest shadows. Even darkness will cease to flood through vulnerable minds, and the world will recognize a new hope no being could possibly fathom.
A/N: So, you might know me already - maybe not. But either way, I hope my writing tells you enough about me. Feel free to share your opinion, I appreciate whatever anyone has to say as long as it's carried out in a kind manner.
There's really nothing else to say but that I thank you for reading up to this point.
...
Characters and Plot © myself
Warriors Concept © Erin Hunter
