Hello everyone. I'm Breezefeather, and welcome to my third story.
Some of you may know me from my previous stories, of which I've decided to discontinue writing. To those people: I truly am sorry. I had no inspiration, and I was going through a tough time.
But you see, I'M BACK. And I've chosen what I want to do. Now I'm officially Twelve (Woo-hoo!) and I've learned a lot about writing, and I hope this story will be better than the last. I was thinking guilty thoughts about fanfiction, then the idea for this story just kinda popped into my head. It might not be super-exciting at first, but let me tell you, I have a pretty epic story in mind.
For people who have never heard of me - Heeeeeey! Hi! Hello! I'm an amateur writer. Hehe. And that's all the intro I need. There you go :)
Anyway, as you can probably tell from the title, this is the start of a trilogy of books about the future of the Warrior Cat Universe, where the Dark Forest has returned (There you go, a similarity to my last story already.) - so therefore, so must the three. I can't be bothered to come up with different powers, so that won't change - and please acknowledge I am on holiday at the moment so I have a LOT more time than I usually do. I write when I feel inspired to, so please don't rush me. I ain't promising anything, and there may be quite a lot of time elapsed between chapters - sorry guys! But if you want good quality chapters, I need time.
The end of this prologue is a little rushed, cause I was in a hurry to get this finished (I dunno why). Sorry if it's terrible like my last one.
And now I'm ranting, as usual. Just go ahead and read the story, there's nothing particularly exciting in this foreword. Buh-bye :)
Burning leaves twirled and danced towards the searing grass, illuminated a dim yellow-orange colour by the towering flames. There were very few places in ThunderClan's territory that were untouched by the harsh, hot fire that raged through the forest. Instead of the usual scents of the Greenleaf trees, and the mouth-watering smell of fresh, plump prey, the territory was filled with the tangy odour of burning wood and grass, growing more and more unbearable by the second. The leaping flames invaded the starry sky to resemble unbreakable walls; a prison for any creature unfortunate enough to meet the monster that was the fire.
The dark-pelted rogue was pregnant with at least two kits, weak, afraid and alone in a small clearing of dirt, where the fire forgot to destroy. All the grass was burned up, almost as if it were dissolved by the flames, so dirt and gravel was the most comfortable place she was going to find around here. She collapsed, exhausted from the sheer effort of running from the fire and choked from the smoke. Then she felt it – a stirring in her belly. The kits were coming.
She yowled in agony as she pushed as hard as she could. The rogue was parched, and famished, and so, so tired… She saw a huge, still body of water to her left. Her neck stretched as far as it could possibly go, but it wasn't quite far enough. Another jolt of pain, another screeching yowl. It was all so agonising, so unbearable. Again and again the process repeated itself, until a tiny kit was delivered. A little tom. She licked furiously, until she heard a gasp and a tiny mew from the kit. The rogue gently nudged the tomkit to her belly, where it suckled as newborns do.
The rogue heard a rustling of leaves to her left, near the lake – or whatever it was. "Come out and kill me if you must, you mangy clanner," She yowled weakly, "But do not hurt my kit…"
A small she-cat stepped from the bush, now set aflame by the tiniest of sparks. "You – you have kits?" She mewed. The rogue nodded and hissed at the possibly hostile stranger.
"It's okay!" The she-cat hurried, "I won't hurt you!" She stepped forward into a patch of moonlight, where the rogue could see her blue-grey fur in proper light. "My name is Bluepaw, medicine cat apprentice of ThunderClan." She offered.
Oh, so she IS a clanner, The rogue thought. "Night." Was all she meowed in reply. Bluepaw stepped forward to try and help the queen, before Night let out a warning hiss. "I don't need a Clanner's help," She spat.
Night had barely finished the sentence before she yowled uncontrollably yet again.
"I think you do need my help," Bluepaw stated. Night rolled her amber eyes and sighed. "Fine. If you feel the need to help, you're welcome." She growled. Bluepaw took another step towards her.
"But DO NOT hurt my kits!" She hissed. The apprentice nodded briskly and bounded the rest of the way to give the newborn kit a lick.
With help from Bluepaw, Night was able to deliver another young kit as the raging fire grew bigger yet. This kit was a she-kit, with a full, long-furred pelt of blacks, greys and oranges. But there was something wrong with her. The she-kit's breaths were more like gasps, and with every one of them she was breathing in smoke.
"What is wrong with her?" Night was desperate to keep her kits alive. "She is breathing in the smoke," Bluepaw said sadly, "She may not survive."
"Why aren't we dying, then?" The rogue demanded. "She suffers the effects much more than we do, Night," The apprentice replied, "She is just a kit, and she is breathing in the smoke as her first breaths. Your first kit is safer, because he was evidently born before the smoke thickened around here. If we don't get both of them out of here, they will both die…" Bluepaw continued.
Night fell silent for what seemed like moons. "Then take them to safety." She meowed finally. "I don't care if I die, or if any other cat dies, just so long as they survive."
Bluepaw stared at her.
"You heard me." Now the rogue was desperate. "Please, save my kits. I don't want them to die…" Her silent tears were turning black from the soot falling onto her fur from the fire.
Bluepaw picked up the kits without a word and raced down the shoreline to find a place, any place, where she had a chance of survival in the fire. The closest place she could find was in ShadowClan territory. Barely thinking, she raced forward in an effort to escape the fire and save the kits.
It was a maze to run through; to find the places untouched by the fire was by far the hardest thing the apprentice had ever done. The fire closed in on either side of her, narrowing the path to nearly nothing, and Bluepaw could swear the tips of her fur were getting singed. Her paws grew tired quickly, but the prospect of her dying at such an early age was enough to keep her running as far as she could. The adrenaline rush seemed to slow time down, and every agonizing step seemed to last longer than it should. It felt like the pain would never end.
Finally Bluepaw's legs gave up, and she fell to the ground. She was almost paralysed, and the fire was creeping up on the she-cat. Her back foot suddenly erupted in a sharp, searing pain, but she was far too weak to yowl.
She could almost feel the life slipping away from her body when she saw a beacon of hope – or rather, two glowing eyes of a cat that smelt of ShadowClan.
Bluepaw didn't have the strength to say a word, so she just closed her eyes as the warrior stalked towards her.
She woke up in an unfamiliar den, made of bramble thickets. It was comfortable, and… different. She looked at her legs and saw one of them was burnt and crippled and blackened. There was a dull ache, but Bluepaw was still too tired to be surprised by anything. She looked to her right and saw the two kits, safe and purring in a heap.
She gathered the strength to stand up, and immediately saw that this place had a herb storage. It must be a medicine den, she thought.
Bluepaw walked, dazed, out into the clearing and was overwhelmed by the stench of ShadowClan. Cats of all different shapes and sizes, of all different pelts and voices, were quietly sharing tongues. The place was surrounded by tall pine trees, home to many squirrels, and birds of every colour you could think of.
One of the cats, a dark brown tabby, noticed her and bounded towards Bluepaw with just a few leaps. He growled in the deep tone of a tom, and turned around to an overhanging tree where a large black tom with a white chest sat, watching over the clan with alert eyes.
The tabby waved his tail to capture the other tom's attention, and within a few heartbeats they were both in front of Bluepaw.
"You called, Pinepelt?" The black and white tom growled. "The prisoner has woken up, Thornstar, and I thought I should consult you so we can decide her fate." The brown tabby replied.
"My – My fate?" Bluepaw murmured in a weak tone, "Are you going to kill me?"
Thornstar and Pinepelt looked at each other. "No, apprentice. Not when we could gain clan members from your capture." Thornstar purred.
Pinepelt turned to his leader. "Do you mean to say, we keep the kits and leave the ThunderClan apprentice?" He meowed, and Thornstar nodded in reply.
"NO!" Bluepaw finally found the strength to stand up for herself. "Their mother wanted me to protect them!"
The two toms laughed. "We will investigate the kits, first, to ensure they're worth keeping."
Bluepaw watched them stroll into the den, and knew it would be foolish to try and fight them. She followed without another word.
She watched as Pinepelt turned over the tomkit with a huge paw, and nod with satisfaction. "We will keep this kit," He declared to Bluepaw's dismay.
Thornstar turned over the she-kit, and instantly hissed, "This kit is no use to us. ThunderClan can have that one."
Bluepaw was confused. "What is wrong with her?" She asked. Sure, the kit was scrawny but she was surprised the greedy ShadowClan cats wouldn't take her.
"She is a SHE-KIT!" Thornstar spat. "Your precious ThunderClan might be different, but around here the toms do the work! Toms are stronger and smarter and faster than every she-cat, so the toms do the work. The she-cats get to relax, and bear our kits. They live a happy life. But we do NOT want any more mouths to feed!"
"So THAT'S why ShadowClan is so huge!" Bluepaw hissed. "You make your she-cats do nothing but have kits! You can only blame yourselves for the amount of mouths you feed!"
Pinepelt took the black tomkit in his mouth. "I will take this kit to the nursery. The other prisoners are of no use to us. Let them go away."
And so Bluepaw was taken out into the forest of pines, with the she-kit. As soon as she was released she ran far, far away from that hostile place in the direction of ThunderClan, through the burnt forest and past the wide river, till she reached the quarry. Home, sweet home.
"Bluepaw! We were so worried!" Came the cry from one of the kits, Berrykit. The blue-grey she-cat ignored him and dashed into Greystar's den.
"Oh, hello Bluepaw. We were wondering where you'd got to –"
Bluepaw interrupted her leader. "You would not believe the day I've had."
And that is how the story of the Three begins. One of these kits is one of the three, but I need a name. I have ideas in mind, but what do you guys think? Suggestions? I like constructive criticism. And suggestions. Yeah. :).
So yeah! PLEASE review! It makes my day! And just for reading, here's a cookie ^_^
Happy New Year guys, I hope 2014 is your best year yet!
~Breezefeather
