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Chapter Two
Sleet

The walk back was surprisingly peaceful and calm, but there was nothing that could stop the thoughts that hung over my head like blurry question marks.

I took in a shaky breath and released it steadily, then looked over at the dark blue-grey tom padding alongside me. His amber eyes held the same strong, determined look I had remembered seeing since when we were only kits, but something felt different.

I relished the sound of the dry fallen leaves crinkling under my steps. They disintegrated into tiny, fragile pieces like ice shattering. We kept walking. The bare trees loomed overhead while the long shadows caused by the sun rising behind us stretched further and further, staining our pelts and the ground with lines of dark and light. But no matter how bright the sunlight was, no matter how warm the golden rays glowed in the cerulean sky, there was an unexplainable darkness surrounding here, shrouding our land. Even if it were greenleaf, it would be cold. Even if it were daytime, it would be dark. The earth would always be so lifeless, the sky so grey and dim, the trees bare and dead. It was as if we were drenched in a cold, life-sapping grey veil, one we knew all too well. We questioned ourselves sometimes, but being so stubborn, so prideful, questions never took us anywhere.

We were bathed in these shadows that we couldn't lose sight of. We lived in what others called the Nightlands, and that was where we got our name.

"BrightClan lost two warriors," I murmured under my breath as our camp grew nearer and nearer in the distance, but the carefully placed branches and dens were still only a tiny speck. BrightClan was the one Clan residing near us, the ones being taught about light and love and family and what's right and wrong. We always assumed those voices in our heads was right. We didn't question anything.

Beside me, Wolf didn't nod, only answered grimly, "Almost three."

My mouth shifted into a tight, straight line as I tried not to think about what happened. Almost three. Almost.

"Why do we hate each other?" I broke the short-lived silence that was just a bit too uncomfortable. Wolf glanced over at me and narrowed his yellow eyes. I quickly shook my head, thinking he had taken it the wrong way. "Us Nightlanders and BrightClan, I mean."

"Haven't we been taught this before?" the dark blue-grey tom asked without taking his eyes off the path ahead.

"No, I haven't," I spoke softly. "I joined later than you. The older cats never told me about the history between Nightlanders and BrightClan." A dull reddish-brown leaf slowly drifted down to the ground, making the branches seem skinnier and barer than they already were. "I never decided to question it until now." Serious questions were rarely asked here, so any wonder or mystique seemed to disappear.

Wolf's thick tail swished from side to side as he walked, thinking, staring into the pale grey sky that was becoming brighter and brighter.

"We weren't always called Nightlanders," Wolf started explaining, and we both slowed our paces. I watched the trees go by while still listening intently to him. "Seasons back, many, many moons before I was even born, we were BoneClan, named after our leader Bone."

"Bone…" I murmured quietly. "I've never seen him."

"Almost none of us have, not even the older cats like Grizzly or Shred," Wolf said in a tone like it was very obvious. "Yet it was said that he created what we are today. They all said he was a magnificent leader and fighter, brave and strong and clever. He's extremely respected throughout all of us."

"Where is he now? I-Is he dead?" I asked in an almost inaudible voice.

"I'm not sure. All these seasons passed and he never gave us a clue," Wolf continued. "There are rumors that Jay is Bone's daughter, but no one ever confirmed it, and Jay won't tell us anything either." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

I stared down and shifted my weight from side to side. "Perhaps she doesn't know." Jay was our second-in-command, similar to what the Clans would call a deputy, but since Bone was marked either missing or dead to most of us, we treated her like a leader as well. She was fairly young, a few moons older than me, but well respected enough. She was quite clever and charming on the outside, but I knew she was also a great liar, like most of us. Wolf knew I had a special fondness for the silvery blue she-cat. In my eyes, she was one of the only Nightlanders who had some sense, who didn't just care about blood and power and killing to win. In a way, Wolf was like that too, but he'd been raised in the Nightlands so long that he never questioned their methods anymore. I was still different, and I was taught that was wrong.

"There used to be another Clan living with us. At first everything was fine, but soon cats started fighting for more territory and food and control. The weaker ones died out, like they should." I couldn't help but wince a bit at his last sentence. "We started getting meaner and colder, and we became enemies against one another. There was a big battle, and the third Clan was wiped out completely. BoneClan became more powerful, we became merciless, powerful fighters, and BrightClan believed that was wrong." I heard him curse angrily under his breath. "We were banished and pushed into the darkness and named Nightlanders, treated like outcasts and rogues. We weren't an official Clan anymore, and our numbers died out. But we survived. We survived because we were strong."

I nodded as he came to a finish, but I didn't mean the nod. Maybe we were wrong, but I could never say that aloud. We learned not to question old methods, not to go against ourselves, and never to doubt. We'd get punished hard if we did.

"And Bone?" I pressed, seeing the camp up ahead, only a few fox-lengths away. Some cats were hurrying back and forth, some resting, and others were out beyond the camp, likely to train. Training and fighting was all they ever did.

"Bone vanished right after the battle. No one knows where he is or why he just left, not even if he's still alive or not," Wolf came to a conclusion as we both halted at the entrance to our camp — hidden by branches and boulders and brambles. He turned and smiled at me. "But we can make it on our own, right?"

I tried to shake off the hesitation and smiled back. "Right." But I wasn't so certain.

We stepped carefully through the brambles and entered the camp. The narrow passageway was only one of the two entrances or exits to the Nightlanders' main camp. Inside, it was quite spacious and held a lot of room. Tall trees loomed over, some bending, giving the whole area a more secretive and hidden feeling. A tall boulder that jutted out of the earth marked the place where the leader or second-in-command would give important orders or speeches. The sleeping dens, lined around the edges of the camp, were either roomy underground dens or shelters created by branches, moss and mud, although many of the cats just decided to sleep in whatever place they could find, whether it was inside the camp or not. Unlike BrightClan, we were often very loose on rules. Aside from on fighting and skill, there were hardly any laws or codes. Most of the Nightlanders were naturally rebellious.

Wolf was looking around. Cats were already hurrying at the break of dawn. Some of us preferred to hunt in the daytime, some in the night. I spotted a splotched golden pelt among the cats. So Tundra had returned before us. She was sitting, leaning against a tree while grooming herself. I figured Grizzly was probably around here as well, but right now I didn't really want to face the large, intimidating brown tomcat. My eyes grew wide as the ear-piercing screeches and screams rang back into my head, and I could only suppress a shudder. It was a wonder how they could take cats' lives without even thinking twice.

We survive because we're powerful, they would say. Because we're not afraid, because we're strong and ruthless. The weak and the ones blinded by feelings will die.

I was still scared of many cats here, but I couldn't show it. Fear was to be punished for, and all I could do was force myself onto these sayings no matter how it would change me in the end. I knew I was hesitant. I knew, in a twisted, strange way, that it wasn't right, even though I even doubted myself when I thought that. But to survive here, that's what it would take.

Wolf yawned, stretching his jaws wide. He lazily pawed at his ear with a paw and flicked it, and I noticed a new nick in his ear, probably one he got from the fight. That reminded me to apply some herbs to the new scar across my shoulder, just in case of an infection since it was still stinging a bit, but I'd likely need to hide while doing that. Things like that were considered weak here. Scars and nicks made you look tougher, more experienced, and a lot of young cats would wear their first scars from battles proudly. We were taught to stand up immediately after we fall down and shake injuries off. Anything less and you'd be treated like a weakling. Even kits as young as a moon were being taught how to fight and survive, what it means to be a Nightlander. I suddenly realized cats born as Nightlanders would never truly be able to just play around and relax.

"I'm going to go grab myself a meal. All the fighting sure tired me out," Wolf interrupted my thoughts, grinning as he thought of getting food. He started padding away and shot a last glance at me over his shoulder. "You should report to Jay and inform her what happened, Sleet."

I took in a hesitant breath and nodded. "Got it."

As the young tom's figure faded away into the dark trees at last, I looked at the camp and cats. For a few moments, right now, if it were from a stranger's point of view, we really didn't look like ruthless killing monsters. We didn't look like the bloodthirsty creatures we were known to be. We all just looked like friends. Like family.

I clenched my teeth and shook my head to myself. Get a hold of yourself, Sleet. Don't mention that word here. You know that's not true.

Grizzly was standing proudly over by a den, wolfing down at least three squirrels. Red, the stocky dark reddish tom, was giving out orders. He was a courageous and respected cat, and was often seen directing cats around or training younger Nightlanders. Heather was grooming herself again, making sure her silky sandy-ginger pelt was as smooth as could be. She spent most of the day perfecting her appearance like always. By a large den stood Tiger, the boastful young tabby tom who, as I guessed, was bragging about something he did with his chest puffed out. Sting stood beside Tiger, cracking grim, unfunny "jokes" like his usual bitterly comedic self to the three youngest kits among us — Brave, Zally, and Cola. Zally and Cola were both born Nightlanders, but I knew Brave wasn't. He was a supposed abandoned kit that was brought to the Nightlands. That happened sometimes. Loners who were worthy of joining could become one of us, or kits so young that they couldn't remember their past life were taught our ways. Wolf was one of those kits. He was orphaned. He had another life once, but he often denied it and confidently declared that he was born a Nightlander. I sometimes found myself wondering if he'd be happier living his past life instead of this one, though. I sometimes found myself wondering if I'd be happier that way.

Jay was lying beside the entrance of her den. I spotted her immediately. The second-in-command's den was beside the leader's den. The leader's den was the roomiest and cosiest, in the best spot as well, since authority mattered a lot, but Jay still stuck to her own den out of respect for Bone, and no one stepped in the eerily empty leader's den.

I trotted over to the silvery blue she-cat and immediately dipped my head as a sign of respect after I got her attention. When speaking to a cat in a higher rank than you, respect was necessary, but I would've given her all the respect I had even if it wasn't for the rules. Sometimes Wolf would tease me saying I was too obsessed with her, but I'd deny it every time. I wasn't. I simply saw her as someone admirable. There was nothing wrong with that. And Wolf would always end it with, "I know, I was just joking." We couldn't let emotions get in the way of who we were, so many cats were all sunken and devoid of feelings. So emotionless sometimes, that it scared me.

"Sleet reporting to Jay, I need to inform you of what happened during the fight," I started with my head still down, using the same monotone voice every cat spoke with when reporting incidents to a higher rank. The cold, dry tone slipped out of my mouth before I even knew what was happening. Sometimes it chilled me.

Jay immediately stood up too, and I could feel her deep blue eyes gazing somewhere else. I shifted nervously as I waited for answer, which finally came after a long few moments.

"A small brawl with BrightClan," she spoke in that same silky smooth tone, turning to look into my eyes as I glanced up, "right?"

I nodded quickly, trying to hold my confident look. "Yes. It was four versus three, Wolf, Grizzly, Tundra and me against three of their warriors. None of us were badly injured, and we managed to k-kill two of their cats." I winced as I stuttered, scolding myself mentally. Jay didn't seem to notice or mind.

She twitched her ear as she made a soft humming sound, then mewed in that calm voice, "Did you catch their names?"

"I think I did recognize two of the warriors," I answered, trying my best to remember. "The two toms who died were Birchface and Flameclaw. The last one — a white she-cat — escaped."

The second-in-command nodded slowly and took a step closer. My breath caught in my throat as her eyes suddenly had a flicker of something I couldn't place. She stayed silent and I expected to be dismissed, but one question caught me off guard.

"Did you kill them?"

I froze. "I…" I didn't. What did I do? Nothing, I thought with a flicker of guilt. Tundra rounded the enemies, Grizzly killed two of them, Wolf injured another one and would've killed her if it wasn't for me. I did nothing at all, except…

I had protected the enemy, I realized with a bitter clench of my teeth. I'm a coward. I've always been weak that way.

I stared down at the ground and the sky around me seemed even darker. "No." I could not lie, not to anyone and especially not to her.

"Alright, you may go now." Jay gave a small smile to me and flicked her tail in dismissal. "Thank you, Sleet."

I forced a grim smile back and nodded. "You're very welcome."

For the first time in a long while, the clouds overhead were clearing and the entire camp didn't seem so dim, so covered and hidden anymore. But that stabbing guilt and anger at myself wouldn't leave, no matter what I focused on. The words almost seemed surreal as I repeated them in my head.

I protected the enemy.

My paws dragged me to the pile of prey almost subconsciously. If I told anyone other than Wolf what I had done, I would get beat up so hard I wouldn't be able to walk anymore, I would get humiliated for all the time I'd live here. Yes, we Nightlanders were loose on a lot of rules. We had a lot of freedom compared to other feral groups. We could go where we wanted, when we wanted, and do almost anything we like. But loyalty and dedication to the gang was something we took extremely seriously. No mercy for the enemy. Kill them without hesitation if needed to… or wanted to.

Maybe I'd even become a slave.

Wolf was crouched by the prey pile, finishing the last morsel of a plump rat. I padded closer and saw a frail, skinny brown tom limp to the prey with his missing front leg and timidly pick the smallest bird out of the pile and quickly staggered back off. Wolf gave him a sharp glance, then noticed me walking up behind him. His yellow eyes suddenly sparked with more energy and he grinned at me, a completely different reaction within heartbeats.

"So how'd it go? Did you tell her?" the tom asked while wiping his mouth on his paw distractedly. "What'd she say?"

"I did. She didn't say much, just asked who the enemies were and sent me off," I replied softly, sitting down and dragging a mouse out of the pile. That was partly true. I leant down and took a bite from the prey, but truthfully, I didn't feel hungry at all.

"That brown tomcat that just passed by," I continued cautiously when Wolf didn't talk. He looked at me. "He was one of the slave-cats, right?"

Wolf nodded casually. "Yeah, his name is Twig. He's one of the two slaves here." He said it like it was nothing. Slaves were the absolute lowest in rank and had no respect from anyone. They had no proper den, not enough food, and no choices. Their life was hanging by a thin string everyday. I didn't see them often, but when I did, I wanted to pity them. I felt truly sad for them. They couldn't run away either. But they'd glare at me with such contempt it made me flinch.

I stared down at my mouse with a dry expression and stood.

"You can have the rest, Wolf," I meowed tiredly. "I'm not hungry."

I didn't even wait for a reply from my friend as I trotted off hurriedly. I didn't care about the soft, pale sunshine that leaked through the dead branches and dappled my pelt. I didn't stop and realize how pretty the light and birdsong was, on the rare occasions where I would see and hear those things. All I could think about was that cold, dead midnight just a while ago (it seemed like so long), the chilling, hollow stare of that she-cat as she fled into the endless night. The shrieks of fallen warriors and deathly silence that ensued. Everything was blurry but all too clear at the same time.

She had escaped because of me.

I didn't know much at that point. But I was sure of one thing: I had started something that night, and one day I needed to finish it.