Prologue
It is very dark. To dark to see clearly. Duskfeather opens his eyes wider, straining to see anything. This place was unfamiliar, no wind, no chirping of birds, nothing, but the scent of crowfood strong in his nose. A light catches in the corner of his eye. Faint, peering through the leaves and undergrowth which are now visible. Hope rises in Duskfeather's chest as he dashes torwards it, only to trip over a cold damp shape, lost in the shadows.
Rising to his feet, he shakes the dust of his pelt. He pads closer to find out what he tripped over, his paws now wet. Oh, StarClan. He thinks in horror. He makes out a cat. A black she-cat, barely visable, lying in a red glistening puddle. Dead. In shock, Duskfeather leaps backwards, only to step on yet another cat. A once white pelt drenched in blood. Suddenly, the shadows are filled with the cries of battle and the moans of dying cats.
Terror strikes Duskfeather, he jerks his head around, fiercely looking for a threat, in fear a cat would pounce on him. The distant light grows brighter, illuminating his surroundings. He feels lost as he swivels around, bodies are everywhere. The foul air leaves Duskfeather's lungs. Shaking his head to clear it, he dashes towards the light, jumping over the young, the old, the small, the strong, all dead, lying in their own blood.
Thorns tug at Duskfeather's black, thick pelt, leaves and branches hit his green eyes. Blood from other cats, slashing up at him plastering his fur to his body. As the light draws closer, Duskfeather's increases his pace, and breaks through undergrowth and explodes into a clearing, brightly lit by the blinding light in the center.
Duskfeather squints at the light, he notices a small black silhouette in the light, a kit. Not dead, but sitting with its tail wrapped around its paws and its head looking at the ground, its shadow cast over Duskfeather. "He-hello?" Duskfeather's voice croaks. The kit does nothing, eyes seem to be closed. As Duskfeather's eyes adjust, the light is less painful to look at. He looks at the kit, who's eyes suddenly open, and the light dims. Its piercing white eyes staring at him intensely. A roaring voice sounds, thundering in Duskfeather's ears, the light behind the kit grows brighter with each word.
"When all is lost, the tiniest spark can light the way. "
Duskfeather stares in awe as the light around the kit engulfs into a blaze which surrounds him, he closes his eyes in shock. No pain. He opens them to see the roof of the medicine den.