She had first seen him in a blaze of fire, somewhere, in a dream. And he had looked at her and smiled, a hot flame in a world where flame killed.
She should have seen it.
When he died, body thudding to the ground, eyes slitted and claws bared, everyone nodded their heads and sighed, because that was a cat who lived by claw and fang and knew nothing else.
But she thought she knew better.
She knew of the light in his eyes and the kindness in his heart, if you gave him that chance. She knew of how he thought first yes, of claw and fang, but also of that undying loyalty to his Clan that lead him to that path.
But she was divided.
She saw her sister, who saw a potential darkness in him condemn him in the eyes of the next generation. His son grew to despise him. She saw that darkness overtake him in life as he slunk and hissed. And she hated that cat.
She had meant for better.
Her son was supposed to be loved and cherished by his father, not squirreled away whenever Bluefur saw his shadow. Thistleclaw could have chosen life over death.
She couldn't escape the truth.
Evil is not inherent. It is perpetrated. He had so much blood on his claws. He was the perfect vessel of hatred and fear.
But she had hope.
She had seen the cat who cried at the birth of his son for happiness. She had seen the cat who had faced a dog with fire and determination in his eyes. She had seen him.
It perhaps wasn't the real him.
He saw a united forest, powerful and happy. She saw it too. But he saw only the dark path, the one drenched in blood and littered with the bodies of cats.
There had to be a choice.
And so, that day, she watched as the RiverClan patrol ripped him to shreds. She raised the killing claw with the leader.
And her heart shattered.
His face, coated in blood, RiverClan and his own. His amber eyes losing the life that made them his. And he saw her. Her name was the last on his lips, whispered on a dying breath.
Help me.
But she couldn't help a cat who only saw the death and fights. She watched as he faded, soul growing shadows instead of stars.
And they met again.
On a battlefield, his claws and fur dark with blood. Betrayer. He hissed. But he didn't attack. And there wasn't hate and anger in his eyes.
She knew those eyes.
They weren't the eyes of the Dark Forest cat everyone knew he would be, and now is. They were the eyes of a misguided cat who has found the one thing they had always been looking for.
And then they were gone again.
A bellowing ShadowClan tom and she-cat fell upon him. And then it wasn't just blood, it was his blood. And then he faded. Dead. For good.
She just stood there.
When the villains fall, the kingdoms never weep. No one lights a candle to remember. No, no one mourns at all. But she did. She lit the lone candle. And she wept, for a kingdom that was seen, but never realized. Not until it rose up against the dreamer.
