Chapter Four: They Bury

Fire roiled uncomfortably beneath her skin. She twitched the muscle in her shoulder as if it would dispel the wrong feeling that had settled over her. Water flicked up into her face and she squawked, rubbing it away. "Stormpaw!" Sunheart shouted, "we're supposed to be practicing!"

Stormpaw, usually fluffy gray pelt slicked back with water and darkened to almost black, grinned. "You were distracted! Had to grab your attention somehow." They were on the shoreline of the river near WindClan's territory, working on stalking silently over uneven surfaces like the stones beneath their paws. Stormpaw was quick to learn, but also quick to be distracted.

"Do you know what is the most important part of stalking?" she quizzed him.

"Light paws," he answered quickly.

Sunheart shook her head, "staying silent," and then flicked up a pawful of water from the river at him. He squealed and darted back into the shallows, kicking up water as he went. It soaked Sunheart from nose to tail but she couldn't help but laugh. "You're like a fish!" she shouted at him from the edge, "shooting back into deeper water at the first sign of danger."

"Not my fault you're scared of a little water," Stormpaw teased, sticking his tongue out at her.

"Oh, I'll show you scared!" Green leaf had brought warmth to the valley, the kind of warmth that was stifling on some days. Even in the morning the air was hot. Splashing into the water after Stormpaw wasn't really a challenge when the river was cool. He shrieked, backing deeper into the river so that it lapped at his belly. Sunheart reared up and brought her paws back into the water, surging it over the both of them.

"You're supposed to be teaching me how to be a warrior," he laughed.

She cuffed him gently over the head, "I am! Even as a warrior you can't forget to have fun sometimes." In that moment she wasn't in a river, instead she was standing in snow high up in the mountains, playing with a group of warriors despite the weight of the world weighing on her shoulders. A sad smile tugged at her muzzle. "Without fun I doubt we'd be here today."

"Willowclaw says you aren't allowed to look sad anymore," Stormpaw said, looking comical with water streaming off his whiskers. "He says you should live in the present more."

It stung a little that her sadness was obvious even to an apprentice, that said apprentice's father had spoken to him about not letting her be sad. But maybe Willowclaw was right. Maybe she should stop spending so much time dwelling on things that had already happened. The lapse in her attention had allowed the uncomfortable feeling to swell once more. She felt like something awful had happened, like her powers - borrowed and stolen - were trying to warn her.

Stormpaw nudged her with his nose. "I know," she whispered. "It's just hard. The things that happened, they're hard to forget, to not think about."

"Cyrith says we shouldn't forget the things that happened to us but learn to live with them instead. Like, accept they're a part of us, or something like that?" he wrinkled his nose.

"Those two do talk a lot, don't they?"

Stormpaw shrugged. "They're just worried. About you, about us, about the Clan."

They were interrupted by a voice shouting across the river, "I didn't know ShadowClan cats were practicing to become fish!" On WindClan's side stood Nettleflame and her apprentice Gullpaw, one of Heatherstar's kits. Stormpaw perked up at the sight of another apprentice and waved his tail in greeting.

"It's a super secret battle move!" he called back cheekily.

Nettleflame huffed out a quiet laugh. "I'm sure it is." They found a shallow part of the river and waded across, looking more at home in the water than the ShadowClanner's did. "I hope everything's well in ShadowClan?" she asked once she'd joined Sunheart.

Not wanting to worry WindClan with what had happened in ThunderClan Sunheart replied, "everything's good. We're settling into normal Clan life really well. How's WindClan?"

"You know, after living in SnowClan for so long I never expected how much I'd love racing over the moors. It feels like the wind is almost alive and running alongside you. WindClan is great." Her face fell, "I just wish Aspenthorn was here to experience it."

"He's watching over you from StarClan, he knows you're happy and that you miss him," she said.

Nettleflame looked sceptical. "I know I said I believed Tornheart when she said StarClan has returned, but it's hard to believe in them again. They've never shown themselves to me. If Aspenthorn could visit, wouldn't he have already?"

It was a concern even Sunheart had faced, and still faced. In the moons since StarClan's return, they'd never once appeared for her; Eaglestrike had never come to see her. Icestar had told her about the times when Rainpatch had visited her, that he'd saved her life and warned her something big was coming. So why hadn't no one come down to help them now? There was a murderer running riot through the Clans, one that had killed an innocent kit, yet StarClan was silent.

"I can understand why you're struggling to believe in them," Sunheart said honestly.

"You don't...think badly of me?" There was a note of worry in her voice.

She shook her head, "no. It would be wrong to expect everyone to immediately fall back into looking up to StarClan. I think it's going to take a lot of time."

They were interrupted by Stormpaw splashing over to them shouting at the top of his lungs, "Gullpaw caught a fish! He actually caught one! You should have seen it, it was so cool!" Behind him followed Gullpaw, head tilted back proudly, silver fish dangling from his mouth.

"Well done!" Nettleflame purred. "See, I told you it would only be a matter of time. We'd better take it back to camp so you can show your mother." Gullpaw's eyes shone as he nodded frantically. "Say goodbye then."

"Bye!" he chirped from around the fish.

Stormpaw grinned at him, "will you come show me how to fish one day?"

"Sure!"

They stayed on the river's edge till Nettleflame and Gullpaw disappeared into their own territory. "Let's do some hunting on the way back. You can show me your father's famous hunting technique."

"Which father?" Stormpaw asked, wet paws slipping on the stones.

Sunheart snorted, "you know which one. Only Willowclaw could make shoddy hunting famous."

They were only halfway back, meandering as they hunted, Sunheart giving Stormpaw tips, when that uneasy feeling crashed down even harder, gripped her by the throat and threatened to strangle her. As it did the undergrowth ahead of them rustled frantically and a familiar gray pelt burst out, flanks heaving, fear rolling off them. Sunheart slipped in front of Stormpaw, then let her hackles rest when she recognised Breezepool. He looked at her with frightened eyes.

"Oh thank, StarClan," he exclaimed, then rushed forward to press his nose into her shoulder, "you're both alright."

She let him rest his nose there for a few heartbeats before she shifted away, ears flicked back, concern making her heart thunder. "What do you mean? Of course we're alright. I told Willowclaw I was taking Stormpaw out until Soaringhawk returned."

A mix of grief and guilt darkened Breezepool's gaze. "You both need to come back to camp," he said solemnly, "immediately. There's...there's something you both need to know." Stormpaw stepped out from behind her, and Breezepool's expression grew even darker.

"Has something happened?" Stormpaw asked.

Breezepool turned to head back to camp but said over his shoulder, "it's best if you see it for yourself." Gently, soothingly, Sunheart flicked her tail against his flank. He gave her a smile that might have been grateful if it wasn't tainted with tension.

As they walked, Stormpaw oddly silent but still carrying the prey they'd caught, she drifted close enough to Breezepool that their pelts brushed. "Tell me. Please," she whispered.

"I...I can't, I just can't." She saw then the true fear that lay in his eyes, that shivered down his spine. It terrified her. Something awful had happened, and she'd been out playing. Shame dragged at her; she could have done something.

"That's fine." Sunheart butted her head into his shoulder. "It's bad, isn't it?"

He just nodded.

They stepped onto the well-trodden path outside their camp a little after sunhigh. A bubble of silence wrapped around them, eerie and stifling. There was no guard on duty and that made the heart in her chest beat frantically. Even in the few moons of peace there had been a guard placed at the camp mouth; foxes and badgers were still dangers to be looked out for. She wanted to grab Stormpaw and cover his eyes from whatever horrible thing lay waiting for them inside.

Breezepool touched his nose to Stormpaw's ear before they padded under the fallen trees. Her paws remained stuck to the ground until she heard Stormpaw let out an anguished cry. Not Icestar, not Willowclaw, not Cyrith, please not them, please. The Clan had been huddled in a tight circle, but now they'd split in half to let Stormpaw through, and it was from the camp mouth that Sunheart saw who lay unnaturally still upon the ground.

Blood crusted in his fur, crept along his throat and down his chest like some foul insect. Soaringhawk's expression was slack, his whiskers frayed; dirt and scraps of leaves were caught under his claws. Her blood curdled when she saw what was staining his mouth, the dark red of crushed deathberries. A ferocious anger burned through her, clawed at her skin, as if it wanted to burst free. But then her eyes found Thornfur and Pebblefrost crouched by his side, grief stricken; and Stormpaw, face buried in the fur of his mentor. The anger melted away, replaced by a bone deep sadness.

Silently, the Clan held vigil over their fallen friend. The sun set, cast long fingers of gold, and still they sat, till the stars took up their mantels in the sky and the moon bleached everything white. Marah stood then and padded into her den, returning moments later with a mouthful of herbs. Gently she began to work them into Soaringhawk's pelt at the same time that Rainpaw started to wash the bloodstains from him. The scent of death was soon replaced with that of rich herbs, of life - an illusion that he was merely sleeping.

Outside camp there was an oak tree, towering and strong. They carried Soaringhawk out to it, under the eyes of the stars, and dug a grave at its base; the first grave for ShadowClan. Once it was filled in Icestar brushed her tail over the fresh mound of dirt and said, firmly, "we will not rest until Soaringhawk's death is avenged. His killer will face justice."

Slowly, in pairs and groups, the Clan returned to camp. But not Sunheart. No, she backed into a patch of darker forest and wrapped herself in shadows till everyone had left. "I'm sorry," she said and pressed a paw into the fresh dirt, "that I wasn't there to save you. I promised to protect this valley and everyone in it, and I failed you."

"Sunheart." She'd known he was there, had heard him, but she'd kept talking anyway. A testament, perhaps, to how much trust she'd placed in him. "Sunheart, what are you doing out here? It's not...safe anymore."

A tiny flame flickered to life in front of her muzzle. "I can take care of myself," she replied. The flame shifted away from her, bobbing slowly over to the grave where it would stay until Soaringhawk's killer was found; a vigil of her own.

"I know you can, but whoever is hunting us, they might be more powerful than even you," Breezepool said quietly. For a little while they sat next to each other in silence, watching the little flame bob and waver in the breeze. "You can't blame yourself for Soaringhawk's death."

Sunheart turned her head away and stared out into the darkness of the forest. "I did nothing to help him. I haven't been looking for this murderer. I've done nothing, and now a Clanmate has died because of it."

"What could you have been doing?" he demanded. "We know nothing about who it is, what they want, or where they're hiding. They are a ghost to us right now. There is nothing you could have done or could be doing, except what you're doing now."

A hiss threaded from her throat, "what am I doing now?! Nothing!"

She twisted her head back to him only to find him watching her, a sort of sadness in his eyes, like he could see all the expectations she had placed on her own shoulders. "You're being here for your Clanmates. To them, after what you did to save them, you do protect them, everyday. When you hunt, when you patrol, when you spend time with the apprentices, and when you do this," he nodded to the flame, "they don't expect anymore from you."

"I know they don't expect anymore from me, but they deserve more. They….this Clan, all the Clans, they mean so much to me and I want them to thrive. I don't want them to live under the shadow of fear anymore," she whispered. These Clans deserved so much for what they'd been through and she wanted to give that to them; an eternity of peace.

Breezepool sighed and shifted closer. "You're amazing, Sunheart, and you've done so much for all of us. But don't you think that maybe you deserve a break from being a hero? We'll find this murderer together, as a Clan. So please don't put all this on your shoulders. It's not only your weight to bare."

"You always manage to show up when I'm falling apart," she murmured, leaning into his side.

He huffed out a quiet laugh. "It's my superpower, always being able to tell when you're feeling down."

"Thank you," she said, "for always being here for me."

She felt him shrug. "I care about you, being there for you isn't hard. So long as you're here for me as well."

The words made her pelt feel warm and her heart flutter. With a purr she replied, "always."

"I'm very glad to hear you say that. Come on, let's head back to camp.

The sun rose on a bleak day in ShadowClan. A darkness haunted the Clan, lurked in the camp, stalked the shadows of every warrior and apprentice. They were no strangers to death but this kind of death in a time supposedly made for peace, it rubbed old wounds raw. Without summoning them they gathered in front of the Speaking Log, waiting for their leader to soothe their worries.

Icestar looked haggard when she pulled herself atop the log. On the ground in front of it Cyrith and Willowclaw looked at her with concern. She inhaled a big breath, let it out a moment later, and squared her shoulders as if preparing herself for whatever she was about to say. "Yesterday we lost a kind friend, a great warrior, and a wise mentor. Soaringhawk did not deserve what happened. He deserved to live a long, happy life. I promise you all that we will find his killer and when we do we will make them wish they had never stepped foot in our lands."

A battle cry sounded from Pebblefrost - gentle Pebblefrost - that was picked up by the Clan and passed around till it reached the sky above. Sunheart saw a promise in the she-cat's eyes, to her fallen friend, that she would avenge him. At her side Thornfur yowled the same promise.

When the commotion died down Icestar spoke once more. "There is one more duty I must perform today," she said, voice strong even as it wavered with the grief that shone on her face, "even if it pains me to do so. Stormpaw, come here." His tail dragged along the ground - he and Soaringhawk had been as close as any mentor and apprentice. "I have thought very much about who should carry on your mentoring and while no one will ever be able to replace Soaringhawk I know this cat will do everything they can to make you strong. Stormpaw, your mentor will be Sunheart."

The world narrowed down to nothing in that moment. All Sunheart could see was Stormpaw's shining face when they played in the water yesterday morphing into one of pure agony at the sight of Soaringhawk bloodstained and cold. Her paws moved without her permission, carrying her to her apprentice - her apprentice - where he waited at the foot of the Speaking Log. In that moment, when she leaned down to touch her nose to his, she knew she would do anything to keep him from harm. He was family.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him.

He gave a weak smile, "we'll be fine, right?"

She nodded, but in truth it was a question she could not answer.

The Clan cheered but a sickly feeling was growing in Sunheart's stomach. Her powers were roiling together, churning and bubbling. From the trees behind the Speaking Log uncurled a creature she wished would stay in the recesses of her mind. It crept from tree to tree, slithered around the trunks and crawled along the branches until it was reaching for the log. Its wispy, smoke-like body didn't even touch the bark but rather floated above it. Everything in her body was screaming at her to do something, to get it away from here, from camp. But all she could do was watch it turn its fiery amber eyes on Icestar and grin.

"I think," it hissed, horrifying and cruel, "you know just as well as I do that this is only the beginning, my dear."

It turned that burning hot gaze on her and laughed.


an: hi i didn't die i just got lazy. this chapter is a little crappy but i'm back!