This is the first of like 6 Warriors one-shots I'll be re-writing. This one is War Has Not Yet Come, which I...literally do not remember writing. Seriously, I remember nothing about this.

Anyway, I know theres a new arc out, but I haven't touched Warriors in a few years so I'm mostly just making up the future stuff as I go along. I wrote the original in 2014. Anyway, enjoy!


"So much alike, yet so many differences."
Sandstorm looked on in quiet sympathy. "Hawkfrost is dead, Firestar."
"I know," he said softly. "I know this, but still..." He trailed off, gazing down at the camp below him. "Their voices are...they're almost the same, Sandstorm."
She brushed against his side, though her eyes never left the terrible scar the circled his neck.


"I was a fool."
Firestar stared at the fading form of Hawkfrost before him. "I was such a fool..."
Brambleclaw watched for a moment, then turned and left to fight in a different part of the battle.


"So much is the same," Squirellflight mewed softly. "But...nothings quite the same anymore, is it?"
"No," Bramblestar replied. "No, I don't think anything will be the same again."
The two of them gazed at the last rays of sun, as darkness crept forward from behind and the chill night air began to blow around them.
The birds cried in the trees as the pair went back down into camp, making their way through a field of blue flowers.


Geese flew overhead as the sun rose, marking a new day - and a new era.
"They're such beauties! They look like us!"
Bramblestar purred, gazing fondly at Squirrelflight and the two tiny kits. "They really do."
Squirrelflight looked down at the brown-and-white tom kit. "For him...Eaglekit, I think," she said. Bramblestar nodded, gently nudging the little tom kit back towards his mother. "And for her..."
"Firekit."
Squirrelflight looked up. "I..." she paused, taking a deep breath. "It's perfect." She lowered her nose, gently licking Firekit's head.
"I hope you're as brave and kind as your namesake, little one."


And so the age of fire and ice passed. Peace fell upon the clans, and they prospered together.
Even so, a darkness still lurked. It was there in the eyes of resentful elders, of warriors who bore scars inflicted by current allies.
It grew in the hearts of apprentices yearning for battle, in terrified mothers that knew deep down that though the peace seemed strong, it would never last.
Long before Firestar laid down his life, before Bluestar took in a scared kittypet, before Pinestar left Thunderclan, the clans had one ancient, half-forgotten prophecy. An omen, uttered by a terrified medicine cat, more warning than prediction.
"Greed is only the beginning. There will be war, and that war will destroy us all."
The elders, the oldest cats who fought in that final battle, say that there still lies a darkness in the hearts of warriors, that war brews on the horizon. "Let it come," the warriors say.
"Let it come."