A/N: This is the third book in my series, following Pawn of the Stars and Knight of the Shadows. I'd recommend reading those first! If you're a longtime reader, then welcome back :)

I know it's been a long time since I've updated and I don't really have an excuse except that I'm the worst, but it's here now. I've had the first four chapters written for some time (almost two years?) so the writing will hopefully pick up in the chapters after those. I've have about a third of the story written so at least that much will be up in the next few weeks. I don't want to put a deadline on the rest since we all know how terrible I am with those.

So yeah, if you want to find out what happens to Dawnpaw and Sootclaw (and all of our other favs!) then read on!

PROLOGUE

It took a while for his eyes to open and make sense of the world around him, so much darker and and colder than the one he had known before. The trees rose up like pillars around him, supporting the stormy grey sky, and the ground was cool and hard underneath his aching body. At first his muscles didn't want to move, and then they remembered what pain was, and for a few moments he was in complete agony, ripped apart by the harshness of his torment. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his body convulsing, and then it was over and he lay on the ground, panting.

And then he remembered his name:

Russet. Russetheart.

A warrior and it didn't even matter. He could vaguely remember watching as Baron died and the blood spilled from his throat. He hadn't been the one to kill Baron, but he had helped. He had laughed as Baron stilled, not knowing what would happen to him, delirium clouding his thoughts. But when Toadstar had whispered those words of power, granting him a new name... he had thought that maybe, just maybe, he might wake up in StarClan.

But he had found himself descending through the sky toward the cracked stone below, Dawnpaw passing him, her eyes filled with sadness... and then everything was darkness.

The Dark Forest.

And now he was awake.

He rolled over into his side, groaning, his body resisting the movement. His bones ached, but at least the searing pain was over. His mouth felt like he had just eaten dirt, his head pounding and tense. Russetheart looked around, but his vision was still a little blurry. He did manage to catch the scent of another cat, close-by. "I take it this isn't StarClan," he mewed, trying to make a joke but failing utterly.

"No," said a sharp voice, and a large tom stepped into view. His fur was brown and mangled, his tail mutilated into layers of strips, and he stared down at Russetheart with rough pity. "But we can get you there."

"What?" asked the ginger tom, his heart skipping a beat. To be in StarClan... to be able to look down over his Clanmates – because he was a warrior of RiverClan now; even dead, he would carry it with him – or to welcome them to StarClan in their turn. Being in StarClan meant seeing Lilystream again one day, no matter how long he had to wait, and they would see each other as equals, preparing to spent an eternity together. "Can you really...?"

He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up, but they already were.

The tom nodded. "I'm Shredtail," he mewed, introducing himself. "Apparently the resident babysitter for cats getting lost down here," he added, his voice cynical. "But I promised Dawnpaw I would help you, so get up, we don't have time to waste."

"Help... me," repeated Russetheart. The thought of being helped, well, it was a foreign concept to him. He had grown up with the expectation of being tough, and once he had figured himself out, he had wanted to help others. But no one, no one had ever stopped to help him.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" snapped Shredtail, lashing his mangled tail. "I'm not in a good mood, Russetheart. I lost a very good friend today; he died to save Dawnpaw, who I will also probably never see again. So you're going to follow me, and we're going to get you to StarClan no matter what it takes."

Russetheart rose shakily to his paws, feeling like his whole body was going to give out beneath him. Part of him burned with the desire to start moving now, to make it there as fast as possible, but there was another part of him that felt weak and scared. He wanted to lie down, to cry, to give up. I tried to hard, he thought. All I've ever wanted... I was so close, and now I'm so far away.

Shredtail let out a huge sigh. The exasperation was clear on his face, but his eyes showed a rough, raw pain that Russetheart wasn't expecting. Russetheart hadn't been the only one to lose something; they had all suffered, and not everyone was lucky enough to get a second chance.

This was his.

"Okay," he said, unsteady at first, but growing more confident. He could do this. He was Russetheart, after all, and he was a warrior. It was his duty to fight against the Dark Forest and to serve his Clan, even if the only way he could do that was to look down on them from the stars. "I'm ready."

"Good," said Shredtail with a nod. "Then we'll begin."

x x x

Far above the Dark Forest, a young tom sat in a clearing, cast in the glittering light of the stars. His fur shone like Silverpelt, his chin lifted nobly into the air. Despite his small frame, there was an air of authority to him, a strength to his slenderness. He was alone, as he often was now, choosing to spend his time by himself, breathing in the cool air to refresh his tired lungs. Being in StarClan was supposed being free of pain, but there was an ache in him, a sense that he didn't belong, no matter how hard he tried. He was tired, and the stronger the Dark Forest grew, the worse he became.

Blossompaw found him, as she always did, slipping through the trees and into the clearing. Her eyes were soft and sympathetic, the terrible scar down her throat, which was always one of the first things he saw, glistening in the moonlight. The calico she-cat always knew where he was, and she sat down beside him silently, waiting for him to speak.

Branchpaw let out a sigh. There was a dull ringing in his head, at the back of his brain, that had been present every since Dawnpaw's abduction. Now, after the events of her ascension back to the Clans, it was even worse. It wasn't going away. He should have known that this couldn't last forever.

"I'm glad to see you," he told Blossompaw quietly.

She offered him a sad smile. "If you want to see me, you can just come find me, not wonder off on your own all the time."

Branchpaw chuckled bleakly. "I just... I don't feel right, being here anymore. And seeing Dawnpaw just made it worse... I was so close to her, so close to being a family again, and now I don't know that'll ever happen."

"What do you mean?" asked Blossompaw in concern. "Dawnpaw's not going to forget you. It may be a long time, but... you'll be with her again, when she joins StarClan."

He shook his head. "I don't know if I'll last this long."

Blossompaw frowned. "What's wrong?"

Letting out a sigh, Branchpaw bowed his head. He didn't want to believe this was true, not after Dawnpaw had done such a terrible thing in order to allow him access to StarClan. "I know that dying and coming to StarClan was supposed to save me, but... I'm not my own cat, Blossompaw. I'm still just that part of Branchclaw's subconscious. Sure, his evil is gone, but that means I'm not whole. What if coming to StarClan was just a temporary measure? What if... if I can't exist anymore?"

"Don't talk like that," Blossompaw urged him, pressing against him. "Branchpaw, I..."

He pressed his tail against her flank. Blossompaw had become his closest friend, and it was killing him to see her so hurt and confused. But before he could come up with something to say that would hopefully make her feel better, they were interrupted by a group of other cats coming into the clearing.

They were led by Dovewing, though she seemed frail, barely a shadow of her former self. She was still in the legends of the Clans, but they were getting close to forgetting her, and Branchpaw saw the pain on her face. She and Brambleclaw were among the last left of that time, the last remembered. What was it like, to exist so long that all of your loved ones joined you in StarClan, and perhaps even faded away before you did?

Did he want that, or did he want to go out in glory?

His eyes flickered to Blossompaw for a moment and then back to Dovewing. The old she-cat greeted him with a nod. "We need you, Branchpaw."

That caught his attention. He noticed that Brindlefeather was in the group of cats, watching him quietly, and he immediately felt guilt overtake him. They had never talked about what he had done to her, how he had ended her life so early, so terribly, after she had shown him nothing but support.

"What is it?"

Dovewing hesitated a moment. "We need you to talk to Kitetail. You are technically his predecessor, and you must deliver this message to him."

Branchpaw narrowed his eyes. "The Clans don't know the truth about me, Dovewing. They think... they think I just went crazy."

She nodded. "But they have to know the truth. They have to understand the power of the Dark Forest. And you need to tell him, tell him that we can give the Clans two moons, but that is all time we have provide. They need to prepare, to stand together, because Thistleclaw and his warriors will be ready."

Branchpaw nodded. "You really think that the Clans can defeat him?"

"We always have before," mewed Dovewing, perhaps a little too sharply.

"And then what?" he asked, because it seemed like a logical question. "They never stop, you know that. We'll just be buying more time."

Dovewing nodded. "As long as StarClan has power, so will the Dark Forest. It is a burden we must bear. But the Clans have always survived before."

It didn't seem right, but he didn't argue. "Alright," mewed Branchpaw quietly. "I'll tell him. Tonight."

There was a silence and then they moved on, except for Brindlefeather. She stayed behind, looking exactly as he remembered her, digging his claws and teeth into her soft flesh. The thought sent a shiver of disgust through him. The things he was capable of...

And then Brindlefeather left too and Branchpaw and Blossompaw were alone once more. Branchpaw let out a breath, wanting to curl up and hide somewhere. His words from earlier were rattling around in his head: I'm not whole. What if I can't exist?

"I'm just a fragment," he told Blossompaw quietly. "I'm not real."

She pressed her muzzle into his cheek, drawing her tongue gently across it. Blossompaw had always been there for him – she had saved him from the darkness, had brought him to StarClan, been his guide and his friend, and yet... Branchpaw couldn't reciprocate her feelings. Not knowing he was, what he had done.

She deserved more than a tattered piece of her murderer's soul.

"You're real to me," Blossompaw mewed quietly.

It wasn't enough. Branchpaw's legs trembled. Something had to be done.

X

A/N: A quick prologue (as usual) to set the stage for what's to come. We won't actually be having Russet or Branch POVs in the story but this is meant as foreshadowing. Not too much more to say - I'll post the allegiances, and then tomorrow I'll put in the first real chapter, which is Sootclaw reacting to the plane crash.

As always, thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)