Hello, my signature name is Aroeheart, and this is a story. Obviously. And it's about BloodClan! *happiness* ^_^

ONE
The Fire

On a typical day in ThunderClan, the camp was raided. The dusty green underbrush was alive with flames, spilled upon the landscape by an unknown source. While the air turned hot and stuffy, and the darkness brightened by the raging orange glow of fire, warriors rushed frantically past, collecting belongings and herding squealing apprentices across the dry, crunchy grass. Scrawny, ribby cats with dark, scraggly fur slunk through, their claws unsheathed, their teeth bared. Occasionally through the smoke came a lash of red blood, spattering the leaves of the bushes, as incisors dug into shoulders and weaponready paws raked unsuspecting flanks. Cries and yowls split the air, mixed in with the deafening crackle of flickering ember.

The leader of the Clan, Oakstar, stood in the midst of blood and smoke. He was sheltering two shivering kits, his own litter, mothered by a light-colored tabby named Tulipfur. His mate and his deputy, Reedtail, stood at the edge of the battle as cats tore past. The leader's side was drenched with blood, drawing nervous glances from Tulipfur's lavender-colored eyes, but his own gaze was clear and bright, shining with determination and bravery.

"Reedtail!" he shouted over the sounds around him. "There are too many intruders! And the camp is about to be engulfed in flames!" His two kits, one silver and one dark gray, mewled pitiably beneath him. He drew them close, hushing their soft cries gently, and looked seriously at his deputy.

Reedtail dipped his head quickly. "Most of the Clan has evacuated," he said, his voice concerned and taut. "But Calicospots, Thornstripe, Violetpetal, and Cherrynose are still battling. And we still have to check the camp for stray kits. My mate, Gingerflower..." - his eyes creased with worry- "...I don't know where she is."

Oakstar meanwhile had picked up his kits by their scruffs, handing them to Tulipfur. "Don't worry, Reedtail...we'll find her." He nodded to Tulipfur. "Take them to safety. I'll alert the other warriors. I'll tell them to go look for Gingerflower."

Reedtail's eyes furrowed as Tulipfur trotted, limping, into the forest. He looked at Oakstar. "Oakstar, she's my mate. I don't care if I die trying to look for her." Oakstar looked at Reedtail. The sleek black-and-white tom was increasingly courageous, and he knew he could break no barrier between a tom and his mate. He twitched his whiskers in consent, bowing his head slightly to let the warrior know how much he was grateful for his excellent service. Reedtail looked back, his eyes flashing, and flicked his ears. With that, he dove recklessly into the massive furball of screeching cats, leaving Oakstar alone.

Oakstar sighed, cringing as the large gash in his side throbbed, pain coursing through his veins. Concentrating on the cats before him, he dove to the edge of the camp.

"Warriors of ThunderClan!" he yowled. "Retreat! Retreat!"

The hiss of approval was heard from the invading cats as the warriors unhooked their claws from their opponents, turning towards their leader covered in bleeding scratches and masked with exhausted faces. Oakstar meowed, marking his position at the camp base. The warriors turned tail and fled towards the camp exit, pursuing their leader's withdrawing paws.

The invaders, seeing that they had won the battle, gathered together in a mass of spiky dark fur and bloody fangs. They seemed to have no fear of the fire, letting the flames leap around them as they sat. A large tom, pitch-black with eerie yellow eyes, hissed at his followers. The other cats remained perfectly still, bowing their heads lightly, indicating their humbleness to him.

"Well done, BloodClan cats," he mewed, his voice gravelly. "We have succeeded in driving the ThunderClan cats out of their home. BloodClan has won many battles in the past...but today, we have triumped over these flea-bitten forest fools for the first time. I can now say with much pleasure that we are completely victorious, and that makes this land that lies under my paws our rightful home. I take this territory as BloodClan's, forever until someone says otherwise, and then we will protect it with our life." The cats around him meowed jubilantly, elated in victory.

While the BloodClan cats celebrated, Reedtail was still darting among the flames, searching for his missing mate. He knew that the other warriors had left, and, truthfully, he was extremely worried. It was clear in his mind that if the BloodClan intruders discovered him and his mate, they surely would be killed. His heart panged at the thought. His mate was currently pregnant with kits, and if he and Gingerflower were to be killed, he would never see his kits. His beautiful kits.

The heat around him was increasingly hot, and it made his legs weak. High temperatures had never been easy for Reedtail, and he found them difficult to endure. The smoke thickened the air, making it complicated to breathe, and Reedtail fought for air. With too much smoke inhalation, fatal results could occur.

He winced through the blurry gray air, trying to find something. He was beginning to lose hope as he tripped over something sharp, tumbling headfirst into a hollow space. Dust flew up around him, and he tried to recover, tried to sort out a scent of some kind. And...

...through a miracle, through all the fire and smoke, he smelled something.

His eyes jerked open wide, and he filed through his mind. The scent was...soft. Fragrant. Warm, and...milky. Reedtail brightened. Of course! The nursery!

Not surprisingly, he spotted a furry lump wedged into the corner. Ginger orange spots dotted a black-and-gray coat, and white paws pressed into the wall. Reedtail recognized the pelt, and trotted over to his mate, not knowing whether to be despaired or overjoyed. She could easily be dead, and yet he felt like he had to have hope. He prodded her side lightly with a paw, praying for a response. Please, StarClan, don't let her be dead. She has so much more in life to do. She has a family to look forward to.

Instantly, violent spasms rippled down her side, and Gingerflower's eyes creaked open, her pupils slit. Her eyes darted to her mate, and her expression crumpled. "Reedtail," she choked happily, and then coughed as another spasm traveled down her side, making her hunch and grit her teeth.

Reedtail knew enough about medicine to know that this was bad. He looked into his mate's eyes, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest as she rasped, "They're coming,"

Reedtail already knew the answer, but he had to ask. "What's coming?"

Gingerflower curled into a fetal position as a ripple sped down her flank, making her gulp and shake. "The kits."

Reedtail filled with dread. Why did they have to come now? While the camp was in flames and was being ruled by vicious invaders? His reply was instinctive. "I'll go get Pearlnose."

Gingerflower trembled, but she looked determined. "We can't go get the medicine cat by now. All the warriors are too far away." Reedtail faltered as he watched his mate turn over onto her belly, staring straight ahead, evidently frightened but also sure of herself. "I can do this myself."

Reedtail could do nothing but watch. Gingerflower wrapped her tail around her bulging belly, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Reedtail stood guard by her, watching closely for anything. He would have to be the one to crack open the slimy membrane concealing the kits, since there was no medicine cat nearby. He knew not many other toms served as medicine cats for their own mate, but what choice did he have? He was only worried that he wouldn't do it quickly or efficiently enough, and one of his kits would suffocate inside its unopened membrane.

It was only a few heartbeats before the first kit came. With a few spasms, the kit slid into the world. Gingerflower tried to be as quiet as she could, but she couldn't help eliciting a whimper. Reedtail saw the drops of scarlet blood that came with it and began to worry. Was that supposed to happen, or was it unusual? He didn't have time to think. He licked the sac roughly until it split, and out tumbled a kit. It was black-and-white, like him, with a berry-pink nose. It seemed healthy, and started to mewl for its mother. He pushed it gently into Gingerflower's side, and it began to suckle.

Gingerflower was shaken from the birth, but she still had strength. She bent over to lick her kit, tasting the scent. "I think it's a she-cat," she said unsurely, unable to tell through the smoke. She noticed that despite the soiled air, the kit was breathing like the atmosphere was clear. But there wasn't time to wonder. She could feel her muscles tightening up. The next kit was on its way.

Reedtail watched as the second sac came. It was smoother than the first, which made him relax a bit. Coughing from the smoke, he fiercely licked it. It popped open easily, and he took a good look at the kit. It had beautiful fur, gray with dark gold spots, and it had tiny tufts at the end of its ears. He placed it next to the first kit.

Gingerflower licked it quickly. She was beginning to look weaker. "She-cat," she choked. "I think...I can't tell through the smoke..."

Reedtail wished with all his might that the fire would reside. A river flood, a heavy rain- anything to stop his mate's suffering. He knew that giving birth into a smoky den was dangerous; the kit's tiny lungs wouldn't be able to cope. Although they seemed to be able to breathe easily, he knew it was only a matter of time before they would be coughing and wheezing, the same as he and Gingerflower.

Suddenly, pain racked Gingerflower, and she gasped, her throat convulsing. She dug her claws into the hard den floor, flattening her ears against her head. "The third kit's coming," she said. "Why does it...it really hurts...why does it hurt more than the others...?"

It happened in a flash. Gingerflower gasped, and the third kit burst into the world. Reedtail didn't have to look at it directly; he knew from the scarlet stain in the corner of his eye that this kit had caused much more blood to be extracted than the last two. Much more blood. All energy draining out of him, he licked the sac. It only took one lick to cut cleanly through the membrane, and in it sat a white kit. It was pure white, as bright as snow, with a plumy tail. There was something about its squinched-up nose that concerned Reedtail, but nonetheless he placed it next to his other kits and watched it suckle. He waited, but no more spasms, no more shaking. It was over. He had three beautiful kits.

He licked the third kit for Gingerflower. "We have three she-kits," he reported. But Gingerflower didn't respond. His stomach lurched, and he placed his paw on her side expecting the worst. But he could still feel short, sharp breaths. She was alive, but the birth had caused her to black out. Reedtail lost all hope. How would he get his mate and kits out before they died from the smoke?

Reedtail knew it was impossible. His heart sank. He laid down next to his mate, his head on her shoulder. If they were going to die, he was going to die with them.

Suddenly, through the hiss of smoke and crackle of fire, he heard a disctinct sound. A purr. He looked up in alarm, his ears perked, only to see a tall, dark shape easing towards the entrance.

He couldn't tell who it was. All he knew was that wherever the cat stepped, water sloshed around him. The flames died and turned into glowing red worms fading into the mud. Reedtail was shocked. He controls the fire!

The black cat stood at the entrance. Reedtail realized it wasn't any cat he knew- it was one of the intruders. The leader.

He didn't have time to raise his hackles. The black cat grinned, showing pure-white ivories.

"Such gorgeous kits you have," he meowed sparsely. And with that, he shot forward and struck Reedtail on the side of the head with his paw.

It wasn't a very hard strike, but the smoke had taken all his strength. Reedtail dropped to the ground, as much blacked out as his mate was. The BloodClan leader padded forward, laughing under his breath. Two slim, dark cats trailed after him, their eyes examining the kits.

The BloodClan leader brushed each kit with his paw. He drew back in surprise. They were still alive, even though they should've been dead long ago. They were all she-kits, but he was particularly interested in the pure white one. There was something about her that appealed to him. He dragged her away from her mother's belly, getting a closer look.

The kit's eyes opened abruptly. All three cats arched their backs at the sight.

"What's wrong with its eyes?" cried one of the followers, his green eyes round. "They're like...orbs of fire!"

It was true. The kit's eyes were red, getting orange and yellow towards the center. Whenever the kit's head turned, it looked as if the colors were moving.

The BloodClan cat spat. "It's a sign," he hissed. "A kit born into fire...usually I don't believe in such foolish talk, but now it seems..." He didn't finish. He looked at the kits, all three of them.

The second follower stepped up, looking sideways at his leader. "So...are they what you were looking for, Scorn?"

The BloodClan leader put his paw on the squirming kit. "Yes," he mewed thunderously. "They're exactly what I want."

R&R, please.

Well, this story came from this dream! Well, sort of. I saw a black cat looming over three kits...all exactly as I described them...and the one he was most interested in was the white one, who for some reason had firey eyes.

Question Answering Time:

1. Is Scorn Scourge's son?
Well, you'll have to find out!

2. Aren't BloodClan leaders supposed to not believe in "omens" and "signs" and stuff?
Well, yeah, but come on...that's boring.

3. Is the white kit with fire eyes going to be a Mary Sue?
NOOOOOOOOOOO 8U

4. How did the invader cats start the fire? And how does Scorn control it?
Magic. :3 (No, not really. They have their ways. And you'll find out if you keep reading.)

5. What happened to Firestar and all them? D:

I'm pretending they didn't exist. Scourge did, however.