Muddied tree roots shaped a small opening. In the shadows cast by the roots partially hid the knotted tendrils that cradled the smooth soil floor or a cave, hollowed out by moons of water and wind. A cat's shadow grew along a steep path toward the open of the cave, his green eyes narrowed and glowed faintly in the dark as he neared. His ginger pelt turned to flame in the moonlight that spilled from the mouth of the cave, his ears twitched and the bristling of his fur gave away his unease as he emerged from the shadows of the cave and curled his tail around his paws. "You wanted me to come?" He asked, his quiet mew full of unease.

Deep within the shadows down a different dark area of the cave, a pair of eyes as blue as water reflecting the summer sky blinked at him. A gray tom, his pelt littered with the pink scars of battles and the white hairs of age, padded forward, the moonlight bathing him in light. "Firestar," he mewed and crossed the last few foxlengths of distance before he brushed the THunderClan leader's cheek with his own muzzle flecked with the white fur of his wise age. "I have to thank you," he mewed gratefully, his mew rough due to his many lonely years of little talking and his age. "You have rebuilt the lost Clan, StarClan couldn't have chosen anyone better."

Firestar dipped his head, "there's no need for thanks, I only did what I had to do."

The age worn tom nodded, blinking his blue eyes thoughtfully. "Do you think you have been a good leader for ThunderClan Firestar?" He asked rather curiously.

The fur around Firestar's neck bristling slightly and hed tensed. "I don't know," he mewed in a tense tone, "I've always tried to do what is right for my Clan, even when it wasn't particularly easy."

The old cat seemed to accept his answer as he spoke, "no cat would doubt your loyalty," he mewed before he asked a question that made Firestar look uncertain, "how far would it go?"

Firestar's tail tip twitched uncertaintly and his eyes glinted with the same emotion as he tried to find the words to answer him.

"There are difficult times ahead," the tom went on before Firestar could finish coming up with a reply. "You loyalty will be heavily tested," he mewed before his mew took a criptic tone. "Sometimes the destiny of one cat is not the destiny of the whole Clan." Suddenly the old cat rose stiffly to his paws and stared past Firestar. It seemed he no longer saw the ThunderClan leader but gazed far beyond, to something Firestar could not see. When he spoke once more, the rasp produced by time was gone, as though some other cat was using his tongue.

"There will be three kin of your kin, joined soon after by a fourth born of a second chance, who hold the power of the stars in their young paws."

Firestar blinked in confusion, "I don't understand," he mewed, "three kin of my kin? Born of a second chance?" He echoed in confusion, "why are you telling me this?"

The gray tom blinked and his gaze refocused on Firestar.

"You have to tell me more!" Firestar demanded, "how am I supposed to know what to do if you don't explain?"

The old tom took a deep breath, but when he spoke it was only to say, "Farwell, Firestar. As seasons pass, remember me."

Firestar jolted back into awarenes, his fur bristling with fear at the events in the dream. Then he relaxed as he took in the familiar sight of the stone walls of his den in the new ThunderClan camp. Morning sunlight streamed through the split in the rock and the sun's warm rays fell upon him, soothing his fears for the time being.

He heaved himself to his paws and shook his head, trying to shake away the vivid dream. However this had been no ordinary dream, he had been there with that ancient cat and he remembered it as clearly as ever. That was back before Firestar's own daughters hadn't been born and the four Clans had still lived in the forest.

The prophecy had followed him on the Great Journey over the mountains and settled with him in his new home by the lake; and every full moon, the memory of it returned to fill his dreams. Even Sandstorm, who was curled up beside him, knew nothing of the words he had shared with the ancient cat.

His green gaze turned toward the wamp camp below and outside his den. His deputy Brambleclaw, was stretching in the center of the clearing flexing his powerful shoulders as he clawed at the ground in a morning stretch. Firestar's ginger pelted daughter Squirrelflight padded toward her mate, greeting him with a purr. The quiet atmosphere was broken by a sleepy looking Cinderpaw stumbling alongside her mentor, complaining about being woken up way to early.

I pray to StarClan that I'm wrong, Firestar thought as he settled back down in his nest, yet he had a nagging feeling in his gut that the prophecy was about to reveal itself.

The four have come…