'Roses in the sun
Falling one by one
Every thorn stung
I was so numb.'

'Legacy' - Nicky Romero

¢нαρтєя ηιηє: нσω тσ кιℓℓ ƒινє мυя∂єяєяѕ

It was very unlike Tornheart to let herself get captured by any Clan, let alone the filthiest, stupidest one. So when the news came from the cat watching over that Clan in particular that Tornheart had entered RogueClan territory along with four other cats and had yet to emerge, it had worried Crimson ever so slightly. She'd taught her right-paw cat how to kill in the blink of an eye so why hadn't she either demanded her freedom or fought for it? Even more worrying was the fact that Tornheart had no soldiers flanking her, just those unknown four cats she'd entered RogueClan with.

Crimson was baffled to say the least, and irritated. She'd made sure to arrive in the Clans valley before nightfall to allow her some time to reacquaint herself with the territories and current 'leaders'. But now she was forced to traipse into the nastiest Clan territory to retrieve her right-paw cat from her inevitable imprisonment. Then, once Tornheart was free, Crimson would speak severely with her making sure the younger she-cat knew how stupid she was entering a Clan territory without any soldiers.

The use of her powers to teleport a large group of soldiers – living and brainwashed – along with herself and Jinx had left Crimson exhausted and in an extremely bad mood.

"Why are we even bothering to fetch her?" Jinx asked with a growl as she sunk up to her shoulders in foul mud. "We should just leave her for RougeClan to deal with."

"Because we need her with us when we appear before the Clans tonight," Crimson snarled.

Jinx lashed her tail whilst keeping her muzzle clear of the sucking mud, "can't you just lock her up in the bowels of the mountain to keep her from doing this sort of stuff?"

"It is certainly an appealing thought, Jinx, but do remember that I have control over her mind. I'll force her to stay in the mountain." The tiny lives developing in Crimson's womb stirred, kicking gently as they shifted into a new position. A warm feeling spread throughout her body. She'd have an heir soon – preferably a female – that would be able to continue her reign if she was to be killed, which was an unlikely thing to happen once those five cats were dead.

"Couldn't you just have done that in the first place?" Jinx snapped.

Crimson lashed out with her paw pushing Jinx down into the mud. The cream she-cat gasped before her muzzle was submerged and she began to flail as the air rapidly left her lungs. When Jinx's struggles grew particularly limp Crimson pulled her out of the mud with her teeth, tossing her ungraciously onto dry ground. "Never contradict the things I do. I will decide what to do with my cats; all you have to do is sit back and do as you are told! You are nothing more than dead weight to me, Jinx. Moons ago when I needed as many cats as I could get, you were useful. Your hatred towards the cat that killed your family served me well. But now you are not useful. Be grateful you are still even here."

Jinx's blue eyes narrowed to slits, fury burning a fierce fire behind them. She pushed herself to her paws and roughly shoved Crimson away. "Then why haven't you gotten rid of me yet?"

"Why waste a body we could fling at the enemy?" Crimson smirked. "Let's get a move on. We have a Clan to mess around with and a cat to drag out."

Without looking back at Jinx, Crimson trotted off in the direction of RogueClan's camp. That'll teach Jinx to threaten me; after all this is over and those five darn cats are dead I'll kill Jinx myself. A cruel grin spread across her muzzle as she jumped into a hollowed log, padding gracefully across the muddy pool using it.

The muffled, quiet sound of chattering cats met her ears as a barricade of gorse and thorns arose from the muddy undergrowth. RogueClan's foul scent filled her nose. Crimson wrinkled it against the revolting stench. "Soldiers," she commanded, "break the barrier down. Don't kill anyone..yet."

Brown-pelted soldiers tore into the barrier first followed quickly by rogue soldiers. Shrieks of terror replaced the muffled chattering as the soldiers broke through the barrier and streamed into the camp, snapping and snarling viciously.

"Ready to cut down a few Clan warriors?" Crimson casually asked Jinx.

"Always."

Despite the argument that had occurred between the two earlier they shared a slight smile. Their eyes however showed a different story. Crimson's were full of distrust; Jinx's of hatred.

Only part of the entrance to the camp was left standing. It sagged a little to the left, crumbling altogether after Jinx and Crimson shouldered through it. The soldiers had done what they had been asked; broke into the camp but not killed anyone. Well, Crimson thought with a quiet snort, if you don't count the few cats we ran into earlier. She could see that the youngest – a gray tom – had stopped breathing, his flanks remaining deathly still.

Raising her head to stare at the dusty brown she-cat standing atop a tree root she spoke, "I believe you have something of mine." A slight grin tweaked at the corners of Crimson's muzzle. She was secretly daring Kynsia to try and keep Tornheart.

"She wandered into our territory and attacked one of my warriors," Kynsia's voice wavered with the same fear that rolled off her in stinking waves.

Whispers and hisses from the far corner of the camp reached Crimson's ears but she ignored them in favour of watching Kynsia with an unblinking gaze, testing the deputy's mental strength. Sure enough it didn't take long for the brown she-cat to squirm uncomfortably but Crimson found herself suddenly distracted by a strange sensation poking at the back of her mind. It wasn't a painful sensation, more of an annoying feeling that something was off. Quickly she allowed her eyes to dart across the faces of the cats she could see without making it look like she was observing the Clan. She sighed quietly in relief. None of them matched the description of any of the five cats.

"And which one of your warriors did Tornheart supposedly attack?" Crimson demanded coolly.

Kynsia shared a glance with some cat over Crimson's shoulder. The black-furred she-cat began to feel extremely uncomfortable as cold claws skittered up her spine. Subconsciously she brushed a paw gently against her growing stomach. "Willowclaw," the deputy finally answered, pointing with her tail.

Her head moved on its own command but her mind had hurriedly abandoned her body. Willowclaw…An image appeared before her eyes of a large, thick-furred, brown tabby tom. He was one of the five. He was one of the cats that had decided to kill her. Red eyes met dark amber eyes which then widened with surprise and uncertainty. A rumbling growl spread through Crimson's entire body, exiting her jaw as a low snarl. He, Willowclaw, shuffled slightly closer to the four other cats he'd been standing next to drawing Crimson's attention to them.

The entire world came crashing down before Crimson's eyes. Her unborn heirs shuffled in her stomach as if sensing their mother's sudden racing heart and shrill fear. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! This can't be happening! It's much too early! I haven't even had the chance to rip them apart yet and here they are already standing together!

Frantically she glanced over the five cats she knew were the ones that would supposedly kill her. They looked like exactly like the images in her head. Every fur, every scar, every colour was identical and it terrified Crimson to be standing so close to her 'murderers' being so unprepared to face them.

One of her hind-legs lifted in an attempt to take a shaky step back until Crimson stopped it, shaking herself viciously. What are you doing!? You are more powerful than any cat in this entire valley! You. Are. IMMORTAL! And being immortal means you cannot be killed by anyone, even those you have seen murder you in your dreams. Dreams are just dreams after all; figments of an imagination preying on a weakened soul.

Her head snapped up, malice and power slipping back into her gaze, a cruel grin spreading across her muzzle. These five cats wouldn't dare try attack her whilst she had soldiers pawing impatiently at the ground and her Blood Oath-takers watching her every move. Curiosity now replaced that violent fear as she gazed upon the five cats. She wanted to know what made these five cats more special than the shaking warriors in this camp. At the current moment they looked like average warriors that didn't smell as if they were RogueClan cats. In fact as Crimson scented the air she was delighted to find that none of them were from the same Clan!

Stalking up to them she watched as only one cowered a little closer to the ground; a tiny orange she-cat that whimpered quietly. Pathetic, how did I ever think that these cats would stand a chance killing me? "Shouldn't you all be in your respective Clans?" she drawled smoothly.

The white she-cat known as Icepetal raised a brow, lip curling. "You make it sound as if we're supposed to," she sneered.

Crimson didn't even bat an eyelid. Apparently she knew more about the Clans than Icepetal did. Then again, she smirked, that she-cat does have rogue blood. "Aren't Clan cats supposed to remain in their own territories? Isn't there some rule stopping you all from traipsing through other Clans territories?"

"And what would you care about Clan rules?" Icepetal retorted.

"Apparently I care a dash more than you do, rogue."

Icepetal opened her mouth to say something but then faltered, an uncertain look growing on her face. A smug grin replaced the smirk on Crimson's face. She'd won that round. Her gaze returned to the large, brown tabby tom, the one who had supposedly been attacked by Tornheart. "Tell me, warrior, did Tornheart attack you first? Or was it the other way round?"

"What's it to you?" the tom – Willowclaw – snarled. "She's our prisoner regardless of what happened."

Mocking, haunting laughter spilt from Crimson's jaws as she calmly stared down the bulky tom who looked to be about ready to explode. "Prisoners can't take other prisoners! Especially if that prisoner happens to be my right-paw cat," turning back to face Kynsia, Crimson ordered, "release Tornheart."

"And what if we don't?" Kynsia appeared to have regained some of her confidence.

"I'll give my soldiers the order to kill each and everyone one of you, including these four cats that aren't RogueClan warriors," Crimson spat back.

Loaded silence fell across the camp as the Clan watched Kynsia with unsure eyes. What would their leader do? What could their leader do against such a threat apart from give Crimson what she wanted? The silence stretched on. A sadistic grin began to spread across Crimson's muzzle. Yet again she was going to get what she wanted through violent threats, ah how she loved the cowardice of Clan cats.

A dusty brown paw was raised into the air. Kynsia sliced through the vine holding Tornheart captive and the Clan heaved a low sigh of relief. Growls and muttered curses flooded from Tornheart's jaw as she hurriedly unwrapped the spiky vine from around her paw, glaring death at Kynsia. Crimson strode over to her right-paw cat. "I hope you know how much this little detour as irked me," she hissed into Tornheart's ear.

The dark furred she-cat shuddered. "Those cats you were travelling with, the four prisoners from different Clans, why were they with you?" Crimson asked with a slitted gaze.

"They wanted to join your army, who was I to stop them?" Tornheart responded calmly.

"Indeed. You don't know who they truly are, do you?"

Tornheart's brow quirked up in a questioning manner, "no. Why, should I?"

"Remember that night about a moon ago when I told you of that dream I'd been having? Of those five cats whom would kill me but I could not see their faces?" Dread pooled in Tornheart's stomach as Crimson continued, "I have seen their faces, their names, and their families…I know who they are. And..and they are the cats travelling with you."

Crimson swung her head around to observe the five that had slaughtered her countless times in her dreams, decapitated her atop a mountain surrounded by cloud. Each one appeared so different to the other. Not one of them shared any single trait or goal that might link them together save for the want to see her dead but all Clan cats had that want. So what was it that linked these five cats together? What was it that made them appear so dangerous to Crimson that she could feel fear crawling up her spine at the mere whisper of their names?

Her eyes watched them darkly. There was Rainpatch, the cheerful yet cautious looking tom from WaveClan with a mate, brother, sister and mother searching for him. She could imagine the lean, well-structured form the tom hid away beneath his long, straight fur. His tail swished gently from side to side as his shoulder brushed against that of the rogue she-cat. He did not cower or shudder under Crimson's hot gaze as it raked over his body. They lingered momentarily on the long, jagged scar that cut across his throat that could be seen peeking out from under his chin. She slightly raised a brow. So this soft-appearing tom had seen battle, but she doubted it was the kind of battle that would excite her.

The rogue she-cat fell next under her observant gaze. Crimson didn't like Icepetal. Not. One. Bit. The haughty, stuck-up, selfish, flirtatious, troublemaking she-cat did not appear to fear Crimson in the slightest. And that worried her, for all she could see in Icepetal's eyes was burning hatred so fierce in resembled that of a roaring forest fire, burning all in its way. It appeared obvious to Crimson that, in some point in her short life, Icepetal had no doubt used her looks in a way to benefit herself. Whether that worked or not remained unknown to Crimson but as she gazed upon the rogue she-cat she couldn't help but admit that Icepetal did not appear as soft as most Clan she-cats did. A violent kind of grace radiated from her as curved claws dug firmly into the soft ground. No, Icepetal was not soft. Stupid perhaps, but not soft.

A whimper caught Crimson's attention and she found her lips curving up into a smirk as her eyes found the cat from which the whimper had originated. Of all the cats supposedly 'destined' to kill her, Littleflame seemed the most unlikely. The small CedarClan cat had the bravery of a mouse with the timidness and downright cowardice to match. She remained partially hidden behind the reddish tom's body, peeking meekly out with fear-filled green eyes; green eyes that were oddly familiar to Crimson. Where had she seen those green orbs before…? Ah! She found her answer after shifting through the stored information about these cats in the back of her mind. So Littleflame – the cowardly mouse – was the daughter of Firestrike and Thornfoot! Perhaps being the daughter of a Games winner made her eligible to be a saviour. Shame it will do her no good, Crimson nearly snickered.

Eaglestrike. That was the name of the reddish tom obscuring most of Littleflame from view. It was hard to miss the spark of concern in his stormy blue eyes, but Crimson saw it. She was too deep in her observations to miss it. The smirk on her muzzle widened. Didn't the Clans have a rule against relationships crossing Clan boundaries? What would Firestrike think to know that her daughter was off gallivanting with a PhoenixClan tom whilst the Clans suffered? Eaglestrike shifted his paws and raised himself higher on his paws. He was a moderately large tom, well-muscled and lean. Strong haunches, Crimson cocked her head slightly to one side, perhaps from darting through thick PhoenixClan sand? His parentage, however, intrigued Crimson. The tom's father had perished some many moons ago, no surprise there, but it was the tom's name…Crimson immediately jerked back a little. Interesting…

The last member of this strange assortment of cats only served to confirm Crimson's suspicions of how strange the group was. An arrogant, mean, self-centred, cold, snappish, rude tom with muscles thicker than his brain. He was a huge cat; she'd give him that, easily towering over her but brawn was little without brain. How could one be cunning and strong at the same time if one lacked a brain? Willowclaw seemed like the kind of cat that would kill first and ask questions later; overly headstrong, the type to dart into battle without thinking anything through. Dark images haunted his small brain of a world shrouded in darkness. Perhaps that was the reason he had joined such a dangerous expedition. He feared Crimson would destroy the world, plunging it into darkness just because she felt like it. She snorted. That was hardly her plan.

"Is there anything else you want?" Kynsia growled promptly snapping Crimson out of her observant state. In reality she'd only been silent for mere heartbeats, her observations coming in quick flashes, but it had felt like moons had passed.

Shadows lengthened as another short silence filled the camp. The dim sun was beginning to set behind the mountains. Time had passed a little quicker than Crimson had been expecting. "Indeed there is," she returned. "Did I not summon all the Clans to a meeting on the island tonight?"

"You did," came the deputy's taut reply.

"Then," Crimson's voice was smug, "I recommend we depart immediately. Four of my soldiers will remain behind and guard your four prisoners. Willowclaw must also remain in camp, guarded by my soldiers until I return to speak with him about Tornheart apparently attacking him." It wasn't an offer. It was an order. An order that no cat had the strength to break.

Kynsia conceded defeat with a tiny nod of her head and a long sigh. "All of the Clan?"

"All of the Clan," Crimson agreed.

"Even the ki-"

"What part of all of the Clan do you not understand!?" Crimson snapped. "Kits to elders, all must be present. I had representatives go round to all the other Clans to inform them of this. Let us hope they aren't as thick-headed as you are."

"Of course. RogueClan," Kynsia raised her voice so that the Clan could hear her, "we must travel to High Star Isle. All but Willowclaw and the four prisoners will be going. Do not dawdle, we do not have the time."

Crimson shifted back into silence, choosing to once again slink over to the five cats. She was done with observing them. They bored her now. After she was done telling the Clans what she planned to do with them she'd return to this camp and slaughter each one of them. No, she decided, I will break their minds and spirits first, and then I will kill them.

Pleased with her plan she raised her chin a little higher, grinning coldly at the five cats. "I will be dealing with you five later."

The camp soon emptied of cats. Crimson, along with Jinx and Tornheart at her sides, lead the way to the island with RogueClan in tow. The Chosen remained behind guarded by three soldiers, their spirits damped by the knowledge that they had not even been able to make it out of the valley without being caught. Their nerves were frayed and their tempers short. Crimson was playing with them like one might play with a mouse.

And the Chosen wanted nothing more than to tear the cat that haunted them apart.

AN: This update zoomed around pretty quick. Unfortunately from here on most of the updates are going to be super slow and far between. School's starting up in a few days, so my time to write is going to dwindle.

On another more happier note; WE'VE NEARLY HIT 50 REVIEWS WITH ONLY NINE CHAPTERS :D *deep breath* I love all you guys :3

-нυηтєя