HAI EVERYBODY!
._. Yeah, sorry about the really long delay. DD: But this chapter is extremely long (around 5.5k words!), so um...yeah. -nods lamely- I...really don't have much to say, except I've been experiencing some major writer's block for a few of the chapters after this, so that's...my excuse for taking so long, I guess.
I hope I've still got a few readers left. xD
Oh, before I forget: some people have been asking 'bout the timeline of this story. Well, this story takes place long after every cat already mentioned in the real Warriors series dies. However, some cats in this story may be relatives of cats from the original series (e.g. Rosepool is descended from Bumblekit. No, she's not really descended from Bumblekit; I just made that up as an example), but no cat from the original series is alive in this story.
Enjoy~
Sinister strokes of black smothered the usually star-ridden sky, allowing only the bright, untainted light of the moon to shine. The only sound that could be heard was silence—pure, boundless silence that rung loudly through the forest.
A lone cat sat outside on the banks of the lake, his pelt concealing him from watching eyes. His wary, gleaming yellow gaze was the only indicator of his presence, the one thing that gave him away as he stared impassively at the vast, rippling body of water that lay before him.
Outwardly, the tom appeared calm, almost bored. But a storm was raging inside him.
"There is hope…There is hope, because StarClan have sent a prophecy. Six cats have been chosen to fulfill it…Snowflower of WindClan, Icecloud and Silvermist of RiverClan, Flamepool and Nightfang of ShadowClan, and Lightstep of ThunderClan…They are part of the prophecy. They will save us all."
Rainfall's words echoed in his head long after the Miniature Gathering Stoneteller had hosted a sunrise ago had broken up. After the ThunderClan medicine cat had revealed the prophecy and the identities of the chosen cats, chaos had swiftly plunged into the crowd. Every cat began squabbling wildly, yowling loudly about the prophecy and StarClan's will. Nightfang had found himself being bombarded with questions and stares and comments. He'd desperately tried to squirm out of his Clan's grasp, but to no avail; the dark-furred tom had found himself trapped on every side. He'd seen Flamepool attempting to escape as well, but both of them had been cornered like a frightened rabbit trying in vain to escape its predators. At last Clawstar, Blizzardstar, Thornstar, and Duskstar had ordered their Clans to return to camp, though they made arrangements to meet again with their medicine cats tomorrow at sundown. With StarClan's chosen accompanying them, of course.
Closing his eyes, Nightfang heaved a deep sigh as he thought about the challenges he'd have to face if he went on the journey. They would be strenuous, difficult, and taxing, and he might not get out uninjured. Or even alive. This journey was—not going to be easy. That was for sure.
But then again, Flamepool's going with me, he remembered. All his worries instantly died away, and he even allowed himself a small smile. Whatever happened, if Flamepool was going along with him, he knew he could relax. The orange tom had been his closest friend since their days as little kits, tumbling around and tussling in the nursery. They didn't speak or stick around together so much now that they were warriors, but the two were still friends. In fact, they'd planned their lives out together back when they were apprentices: the two seven-moon-old toms had just finished a friendly play-fight and were laughing…
"Great moves!" exclaimed Flamepaw, his eyes glowing with mirth. The two cats lay side by side, still panting from the vigorous play-fight. "Did Acornheart teach you them?"
"Nope!" Nightpaw meowed loudly.
Flamepaw gasped, green eyes going wide. "Y-you mean you made 'em up yourself?"
"That I did," confirmed his best friend, dipping his head proudly.
A purr burst out of the orange apprentice's throat, and he flicked Nightpaw's shoulder playfully. "Wow! You better teach me them sometime. I want to be as good as fighting as you are."
"No way! Make up your own or ask Birdsong," the sable-furred tom retorted indignantly, though his tawny gaze was glinting with amusement. "I came up with them fair and square. You have to come up with your own."
"But we're best friends!"
Nightpaw shrugged indifferently. "So?"
Growling half-heartedly, Flamepaw narrowed his eyes teasingly at Nightpaw. "Okay, how about this? I've got a proposition for you," he meowed smoothly.
Mildly interested, Nightpaw pricked his dark ears. "Go on."
"Okay. You teach me those moves, and I'll make you deputy when I become leader."
Snorting, Nightpaw shoved his friend with his paw. "Who says I want to be deputy? What if I want to become leader, eh? What if I killed you, like old Brokenstar did to Raggedstar?"
"Ah, but you don't want to become leader," Flamepaw mewed smugly. "You don't have that sort of ambition. I do, though, so it's a fair trade!"
Hesitating, Nightpaw glanced at his friend. The ginger tom's eyes were large and earnest, and his thick fur was fluffed out. He truly looked like he…well, meant it. And Nightpaw knew Flamepaw had a point; he had never desired to become ShadowClan leader. Being deputy did appeal to him, however…
The raven-colored apprentice bowed his head, admitting defeat and giving in. "All right. I teach you some of the moves, and you make me deputy?"
"Definitely!" squeaked Flamepaw. Nightpaw snickered at his friend's high-pitched, she-cat-like voice, but he stood up, indicating with his tail for Flamepaw to do so as well.
"Okay, this move is a defensive one. You slip under the cat when he springs at you and pull his tail, which unbalances him and makes him fall. Then you leap at him and sink your claws into his side…"
Nightfang closed his eyes, smiling to himself in spite of the grim mood that had previously enveloped him. Another memory rushed into his mind, flooding all his senses as he re-experienced it…
"You meant it?" A nine-moon-old Nightpaw stood gaping at his similarly-aged best friend. This Nightpaw was extremely different from the Nightpaw that had been seven moons of age; he was more muscular and much stronger, for one, and his senses were more developed. He was faster and more experienced, and altogether not a cat anyone would want to meet in battle.
Flamepaw shrugged nonchalantly as he narrowed his eyes, scanning the marshy environment for prey. "Of course I did. I wasn't joking, Nightpaw; I really do want to become Flamestar of ShadowClan." His gaze fell upon a toad, hopping around and clearly unaware of the two cats lurking behind it.
"But…" Nightpaw trailed off feebly as his fellow apprentice sprang at the toad, dispatching it with a nip to the spine.
"But what?" Flamepaw glanced up casually as he buried the fresh-kill.
Nightpaw merely blinked before realization hit him at last: Flamepaw wanted to be Flamestar. It was so unbelievable, so improbable…and so like Flamepaw, to aspire to achieve a goal that could very well be impossible to reach. "It's so unlikely that you succeed, though," he mumbled at last, not exactly knowing what to say.
The orange apprentice's eyes narrowed. "It would be unlikely that I succeed," he snarled, "if I didn't really care about becoming Flamestar." For a heartbeat his grass-green eyes were obscured—and then they were open again, blazing with a fire. A kindling flame. "But you know what, Nightpaw? I do care about this. I want to become the leader of ShadowClan as I've never wanted something before, and I know I can do it, too. I'll do anything to achieve my goal and crush any obstacle in my way…well, the ones that I can crush, anyway. I believe in myself; why can't you believe in me?"
And in that moment, the passion burning in his eyes was enough to rival that of a flaming star.
Nightpaw blinked once, twice, thrice, before his face broke out into a small smile. "Okay, Flamepaw. I…I believe in you. I'll be with you every pawstep of the way."
"Darn right you will!" growled Flamepaw, though he was smiling as well. "You'll be Night, uh…Nightflower, the great Flamestar's loyal deputy!"
"Clawstar wouldn't give me such a feminine name!" protested Nightpaw.
Snorting, Flamepaw flashed him a look of great skepticism. "You sure about that?"
Hissing good-naturedly, Nightpaw leapt at him, and the two toms whirled around in a play-fight. But for all their horsing around, both cats knew—they would be at each other's side, striking as one, helping the other out when he needed help. Because one day Nightpaw would be Flamepaw—Flamestar's deputy. And he couldn't wait for that day.
And it will happen, Nightfang thought as he rose to his paws fluidly, turning and padding back to camp. One day, I will be the ShadowClan deputy, serving my leader loyally. Flamepool and I—we made plans long ago. And we've got the rest of our lives to accomplish them. We'll be able to do it!
x x - - / / - - \ \ - - x x
"Excited?" Nightfang asked Flamepool as they padded after Clawstar and Mudstripe.
The ginger warrior shrugged, not meeting Nightfang's eyes. The latter frowned in confusion when his friend didn't make another move or sound in response.
During the turmoil that had occurred after the Miniature Gathering, Clawstar had agreed to meet again at sundown the next day with his medicine cat and chosen warriors. The other leaders too were bringing their chosen cats and Clan healer. Nightfang hadn't been overtly thrilled about it, but in the mayhem after the Miniature Gathering he had quickly agreed to it.
As the log that led to the island came into sight, Clawstar halted and faced his cats. "Listen," he said quietly, and Nightfang couldn't help but admire the ShadowClan leader. He spoke in a way that commanded every cat's attention, in spite of the volume of his voice. "I want you three to be on your alert. Even if BloodClan is returning, who knows what kind of stunts the other Clans might try to pull? So be careful and don't reveal too much—or anything at all, if you can. All right?"
"Okay," Nightfang mewed tersely as Mudstripe dipped his pale brown head in assent. Flamepool just grunted. Clawstar shot the fire-colored cat a concerned look; usually Flamepool actually talked. But so far he hadn't meowed much—in fact, Nightfang couldn't recall his friend saying anything at all during the trip to the island. And the black-coated warrior's memory was very sharp.
At last Clawstar turned and, his muscles rippling under his dark pelt, sprung onto the log with a massive leap. The tabby leader made slipping over the fallen trunk look extremely easy as he scooted quickly along the hunk of wood. Nightfang narrowed his eyes, determined not to show any weakness, and swiftly bounded on. This proved to be a mistake, as the raven-furred tom began to slip off, but he managed to grip onto the sides with his stone-sharp claws.
Once the small isle came into sight, Nightfang sped up, though he was careful about not rushing and this time falling into the lake—unlike Flamepool, who was slightly hotheaded about making errors, Nightfang actually learned from his slip-ups. As soon as he set paw on the island he padded into the clearing to sit and wait.
"Blizzardstar." Clawstar nodded to the elegant gray-and-white she-cat as he leapt onto one of the branches of the Great Oak. Mudstripe followed, stopping at the roots of the tree and waiting patiently. The RiverClan leader was already balanced neatly on her usual branch, the one highest up the trunk. She dipped her head in response, appearing calm and relaxed, though her deep blue eyes were darting around with the sharpness of a hawk's.
He spotted Icecloud and Silvermist sitting together near the bushes. They were conversing in quiet mews, murmuring about something clearly very serious. Nightfang stood watching them and feeling awkward until Silvermist pricked her ears, clearly sensing a cat's gaze burning into her sleek pelt. Her eyes fell upon the black ShadowClan cat.
"Hi," the silver-gray she-cat greeted, her mew sounding tentatively friendly. Nightfang twitched a dark ear ever so slightly in response.
"Uh, would you like to sit with us?" Silvermist offered politely. Startled that she was even bothering to speak to him, Nightfang stared at her. The dark-colored warrior was grumpy and emotionless in the wake of most cats—even when he was with Flamepool, he didn't show too much feeling. In fact, he'd even overheard one of his own Clanmates saying that he "can be so cold; rude, even. I mean, he doesn't do anything that shows a morsel of emotion, really."
"Well?" Silvermist's dry voice crackled in his ears as the raven-black tom just gaped at her. "Are you going to reply or stand there like a moonstruck badger all day?"
Blinking, the cat nodded awkwardly and padded slowly towards the two RiverClan sisters. As he dropped cautiously down, a tail-length or two away from them, he noticed that Icecloud didn't even acknowledge his presence. Actually, she seemed to be lost in her own world as she stared at the Great Oak, eyes azure pools of some inscrutable emotion. Following her intent gaze, Nightfang found himself looking at the two leaders whom had currently arrived.
Silence wrapped itself thickly around the three cats as Silvermist stared off into space and Icecloud continued to watch the Great Oak. But the hush mattered little to Nightfang; he was accustomed to its familiar echo and took comfort from its presence.
Abruptly, a loud crunching caught his attention, and he sprang to his paws at once. Hackles raised, golden eyes narrowed, the warrior lowered his well-muscled body into a defensive stance. He waited tensely for the new arrival, whoever it was, to appear. Clearly snapped out of her daze-like state, Silvermist shot him an odd look, as though she thought he was behaving oddly, but didn't comment.
At last a cat burst into the clearing, tail held aloft and pale eyes shining with eagerness. Nightfang recognized Lightstep's tawny pelt and rather small build at once, and spat contemptuously: the biggest mousebrain of them all himself had arrived. As had Thornstar, Rainfall, and—Nightfang blinked as the ThunderClan deputy strode after her leader. Dovewing was here? Probably because Thornstar is getting older, Nightfang deduced.
"I'm here!" announced Lightstep as he bounced up to the gathered cats. Clearly, only his intelligence had been robbed from him; he was…enthusiastic in his approach. And, to Nightfang, pretty bold to just come charging up to the other cats without invitation.
But courage didn't make you invincible. If anything, sometimes it caused you to be reckless and unrestrained. And in battle, that was definitely not something you'd want to be.
"Yes, I can see that," Icecloud retorted testily, breaking off her staring at the leaders to flash Lightstep a frosty glare before turning back to the tree. Silvermist was gentler, murmuring a quick "Hello" and scooting over to make room for him. The light tom blinked gratitude at the glossy-pelted RiverClan cat before plopping down beside her.
Nightfang shifted his gaze over to the leaders. Dovewing was standing at the roots of the tree with the medicine cats, though she commanded power with an aura befitting a Clan leader. That's where I'll stand someday, he reminded himself. And Flamepool will be Flamestar, standing in Clawstar's position…
As his mind drifted to Flamepool, the ShadowClan tom scanned the clearing for his Clanmate. The fiery-orange warrior was sitting by himself at the edge of the clearing, his leaf-colored eyes unfocused, just as Silvermist's had been a few minutes ago. Nightfang wondered what was on his friend's mind and briefly pondered whether or not to call him over, when he realized that if Flamepool had wanted to, he would have already sauntered over and taken a seat beside his fellow chosen cats. But his loneliness seemed to be self-inflicted, as he sat unaccompanied several fox-lengths away. Odd.
Maybe he's thinking about Fernpool's kits, Nightfang decided at last. A few sunrises ago, Flamepool had begun to express interest in the creamy queen's kits, the oldest litter in the ShadowClan nursery. They would be ready to receive their apprentice names within three or four sunrises. Yes, that's it. He's wondering which of Fernpool's kits he wants to mentor, because he needs to have had an apprentice before Clawstar can promote him to deputyship…
"WindClan's here!" Lightstep called, his tail thumping from side to side. Nightfang blinked—the ThunderClan cat had smelled the approaching WindClan party before he had? That too was very odd.
Duskstar burst into sight, his tabby-striped gray twisting lithely as he bounded onto his branch. Silverfeather trotted to the medicine cats, greeting them with polite murmurs and dips of her long-furred silver head. Snowflower was the last to appear, and she padded slowly to the center of the island.
"Come, come," encouraged Duskstar, jabbing his tail towards his warrior. "Join Snowflower in the heart of the clearing so we can address you all clearly." Hesitancy darted from every cat's eyes (except for Lightstep's; he just raced over to sit neatly next to Snowflower without a second thought) before they warily trudged over. Flamepool pricked his ears dully and picked his way over to sit next to Snowflower.
"That's better." Duskstar closed his pale amber eyes for a few heartbeats before opening them again and declaring, "Well, you all know why we're assembled here: to discuss BloodClan and anything StarClan might have told you about them." Nodding brusquely towards Snowflower, he ordered, "You go first, Snowflower."
The dainty-figured she-cat blinked at him with leaf-colored eyes. "A cat visited me in my sleep," she mewed quietly, "and told me of blood. They must have meant BloodClan."
"Interesting…" Clawstar murmured. "Hmm. Okay, then, Nightfang, why don't you tell us about your omen?"
"Pinefrost visited me and mentioned climbing mountains," the cat mumbled. "And to reach the summit, we must join as one."
Clawstar's eyes widened. "Mountains," he exclaimed. "The Tribe—BloodClan lived in the mountains with them! Okay, Flamepool, you next."
The bright-furred tom blinked and stirred, as though he had been shaken out of a trance. "Cedarspots, the original ShadowClan medicine cat, came to me and spoke of one word: revenge."
"It all ties in with the Tribe's story so far," mused Blizzardstar. She turned her deep blue gaze on her warriors, who stared stonily back. Nightfang frowned, bemused. Isn't she going to tell them to recite their dreams?
Eventually Silvermist broke the strangely taut silence with an equally oddly-crisp mew. "Berrystar visited me"—Blizzardstar's eyes flashed at the mention of her former leader—"and told me that danger fast approaches the lake and shall shatter the peace we are experiencing at the moment. BloodClan is dangerous, isn't it?"
A murmur rippled through the medicine cats as they stared at the chosen cats and began whispering busily to each other; gossiping, Nightfang assumed. Silvermist flicked Icecloud with her tail, dark green eyes glaring into her sister's brilliant blue. "Go," she hissed very quietly; so quietly, in fact, that he just barely heard what she said even when he perked his ears.
Icecloud shot her sister a cold look but meowed, very loudly, "My father visited me in my dreams." Blizzardstar blinked, staring at Icecloud with an odd expression that disappeared in a heartbeat on her patched face. "We shall be thrust into a great battle, the likes of which have never been seen before."
"And what did you dream of, Lightstep?" Dovewing meowed smoothly.
Eyes narrowing thoughtfully, the golden-brown warrior hesitated in his answer before replying, "A cat named Dustflower told me that all six of the chosen cats need to join together as one to prevent destruction and blood from being spilled."
Thornstar's eyes opened wide at the sound of Dustflower's name—Nightfang recalled that he had been a tom. According to Lightstep, anyway. But he didn't doubt Lightstep's word on that account, because you would have to have no brains at all to not be able to tell whether a cat was a tom or she-cat. Whilst the ThunderClan idiot was, well, an idiot, he did have a brain (though Nightfang wondered if it was working or not) as well as a sense of smell and could probably distinguish the difference between a tom and a she-cat.
"It…it all fits," Clawstar hissed, his eyes wide open with shock. "It all fits the information Stoneteller gave us: BloodClan is returning to get revenge on the Clans, which will throw us all into a great battle that will happen very soon. To keep this from happening, StarClan chose six cats to climb the mountains, where BloodClan currently is, but to accomplish that feat—"
"—the six chosen cats must join together as one," Mudstripe finished. His pelt was bristling from the thought of BloodClan returning seeking vengeance upon the Clans, Nightfang assumed. "Well, then…"
"Didn't Stoneteller say that BloodClan was supposed to arrive a few days after his Tribe members overheard Ice's plans?" Duskstar interrupted. "And that was, what, a moon ago?"
Blizzardstar drew in a sharp breath. "BloodClan was supposed to have arrived here a moon ago then. What could have caused them to delay their coming?"
No one answered her question. No one could answer it. What had postponed BloodClan's appearance? Nightfang realized it was a good question, and he narrowed his eyes to slits as he concentrated. Had Stoneteller known what had held up the cruel, revenge-seeking cats, or was he as clueless as the rest of them?
As he thought, something kept nagging at him. He was certain Stoneteller had mentioned something that could be useful, but he couldn't remember it at the moment…The black-coated tom hissed in frustration, letting his claws dig deep into the earth beneath him. Silvermist and Lightstep shot him startled looks, shifting slightly away from the dark ShadowClan cat, but said ShadowClanner didn't notice. He was still trying to dig up the memory that was pushing at the back of his mind.
"Well, either way," Silverfeather meowed at last, "if BloodClan should have arrived here long ago, we'd better send the chosen cats off soon…or it might be too late."
"Yes, that's a good idea," agreed Rainfall immediately, Smokewhisker bobbing his head up and down in clear concord.
"Definitely." Duskstar nodded. Clawstar and Blizzardstar voiced their approval as well, while Thornstar hesitated before nodding reluctantly. Dovewing's eyes were tracking him concernedly.
"In fact, we ought to send Flamepool, Nightfang, Snowflower, Silvermist, Icecloud, and Lightstep off tomorrow!" Smokewhisker's olive-green gaze had darkened with worry as he continued, "If BloodClan was supposed to come a while ago, who knows when they'll come now? Their arrival will be unpredictable, which might even have been their objective in the first place. So we'd better let the six go off on their journey at once."
"That makes sense." Clawstar nodded his head before turning his amber gaze onto StarClan's chosen cats. "All right, then; let's end this meeting so the six can prepare for the trip, seeing as it won't be easy. That much is for sure."
No objections were made, and the four leaders jumped down from the branches on the Great Oak. The other medicine cats and warriors followed their Clan leaders until soon only Clawstar, Mudstripe, Flamepool, and Nightfang were left on the island.
"You heard what they said," Clawstar meowed grimly. Now that the other cats were gone, his eyes revealed much more apprehension and anxiety than they had before. "Flamepool and Nightfang, you two will be going on the journey. I—I won't lie to you; the prospects are not good that you'll come out alive." Flamepool took in a quick breath while Nightfang blinked twice or thrice. "Your job, however, is to halt BloodClan in its tracks however you can. And if that means sacrificing yourselves…you two are loyal ShadowClan cats. You would die for the Clan, correct?" The two warriors nodded. "Well, you might have to sacrifice yourself this time in order to deter BloodClan's progress, even if it's only for a few days. You must, at all costs, keep them from advancing on us. That is your true job."
"If I may," Mudstripe cut in, "before you go, I suggest you think up a strategy to prevent BloodClan from returning quickly. Yes, battle skills are a necessity in battling your opponents, but a strategist armed with tactics and cunning will almost always defeat a warrior who depends on brute force to win the battle."
Clawstar nodded approvingly at his tabby medicine cat before flicking his tail and padding off. Nightfang flashed a wide-eyed look at his friend, but Flamepool seemed worried. I can't say I blame him, though, the black tom thought. He's always wanted to be the leader of ShadowClan, and he might lose that opportunity if he comes with us on this journey…oh well. StarClan laid out our path long ago—disaster could strike if we don't stick strictly to it.
x x - - / / - - \ \ - - x x
Nightfang was ready.
He was readier than he had ever been in his entire life. For the entire afternoon the tom had strategized, considering every possible scenario carefully and consulting the Tribe, who was staying on WindClan territory for the time being, for analyses on BloodClan. And finally, after a while, he had crafted together a plan to save the Clans.
It was crazy—but it just might work.
The warrior had informed Clawstar, who'd discussed it with the other leaders, medicine cats, and Stoneteller himself. Most of them had called it an insane and risky idea.
But one that had a chance of succeeding.
After he had finished devising tactics, Nightfang had polished up his fighting skills with his former mentor, Acornheart. The latter had at last dipped his furry gray head, surrendering and telling his past apprentice that his battle techniques were as sharp and dangerous as they had ever been. Flamepool had also practiced fighting and helped him pick out strategies to use against BloodClan, but his eyes had glazed over on occasion, as though he was thinking about something. Nightfang assumed that the something was the terrifying thought that they might not survive this ordeal. But he had hardened himself, knowing that he was doing this for the greater good.
The next day, Mudstripe had taught him and Flamepool a variety of basic herbs that they might find useful in case of any sort of ailment. Flamepool still seemed to be lost, and Nightfang felt great sympathy towards his friend: it must hurt, to know that the goals you've always dreamed of achieving could very easily be smashed to pieces.
Finally, Mudstripe had declared them ready to go, as had Clawstar, Acornheart, and Birdsong, Flamepool's former mentor. They had exchanged a goodbye, perhaps for the last time, with their Clanmates before setting off to meet the other chosen cats. Yes, the two were ready—ready to fulfill their destinies, as StarClan had arranged for them.
Nightfang was practically prancing by the time he and Flamepool reached the hills on WindClan territory, so uncharacteristically anxious was he to get started on the journey. "Where are the other cats?" he snapped impatiently, spinning around every so often to check for the other chosen ones. "They should be here by now…"
Flamepool didn't answer. His eyes were still lowered to the ground, a fine mist draping over them.
At that, Nightfang lost his patience, of which he had little of today (which per se was very odd). "Flamepool, I know you're upset that you might not live through this and become the ShadowClan leader, but we're going to begin the journey in a very short while. So you might as well get used to that fact."
At first, Flamepool didn't respond. But as several heartbeats pulsed by, he finally raised his gaze to stare directly into Nightfang's tawny one, and softly meowed something that would change every Clan cat's life forever: "I'm not going."
Nightfang froze, hoping he'd heard the fire-colored warrior wrong. "Excuse me," he mewed slowly at last, "but I was under the strange impression that you said you're—"
"—not going, yes."
"Wh…what?!" the dark cat yowled after blinking several times, staring at his friend with horror. "You can't be serious, Flamepool. You…you have to come on the journey. You were chosen by StarClan, for crying out loud!"
The ginger tom said nothing, merely avoided his gaze.
"Flamepool," Nightfang hissed again, lowering his body into a battle position this time, "you are going to go on the journey. Even if I have to make you come along."
"Is that a threat?" Flamepool's voice was cool but very quiet; his stare bored into Nightfang.
The black tom let out a growl of frustration, swearing furiously as he did so. "No, for StarClan's sake, Flamepool, I wouldn't threaten my best friend—but you have to come! We'll all need your leadership skills, your ability to fight, your ingeniousness—we need all of that! And I won't be able to do it without you, Flamepool; you've got to come."
"I'm sorry." Flamepool's bright eyes were staring at the ground again. "But my mind's made up."
Nightfang just stood there, immobilized by shock. How could Flamepool do this? He was defying StarClan's will, for one, and didn't he see that he was being selfish this way? He didn't deserve to be a leader if this was the way he acted.
A flashback leapt to mind at those words: "But you know what, Nightpaw? I do care about this. I want to become the leader of ShadowClan as I've never wanted something before, and I know I can do it, too. I'll do anything to achieve my goal and crush any obstacle in my way…well, the ones that I can crush, anyway. I believe in myself; why can't you believe in me?"
Flamepool was afraid, afraid that BloodClan would be too big of an obstacle for him to crush successfully. So he had chosen to stay behind, thinking that it would be easier for him to become leader that way. What a fool, Nightfang snarled. Have you no faith in us, Flamepool? Have you no faith in your best friend's plans? How could you?
"Fine," the black tom snapped at last. "Go ahead."
His Clanmate's head snapped up, and Flamepool stared at him in obvious astonishment. "Y-you mean it? Really?" Nightfang nodded curtly, and Flamepool let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you for understanding, Nightfang," he murmured appreciatively. "I—"
"You're wrong," Nightfang interrupted fiercely. "I do not understand one bit. I don't understand how you could do this, why you want to do this, and what makes you think you can get away with doing this. You betrayed us all, Flamepool." He shook his head and began to turn away.
"I'm sorry…" was all Flamepool managed. "But I promise you, if you end up alive after this fiasco, I'll make you deputy on the spot—"
"Deputy? You, make me deputy?" With a harsh bark of a laugh, Nightfang twisted around to glare at the cat he had once considered loyal and let out a quiet snarl. "No. I want nothing more to do with you, Flamepool. You are not my friend anymore, and I don't even want to live in the same camp as you, much less den. You're selfish and a coward. Do whatever you want—it doesn't concern me anymore." He turned his back. He heard another mumbled "I'm sorry…" and then a pattering of footsteps, growing quieter until they entirely disappeared. Flamepool was gone.
No sooner had they stopped then another started. Nightfang recognized Icecloud and Silvermist's scents, and Snowflower's as well. Lightstep arrived a few heartbeats afterwards.
"Where's Flamepool?" Snowflower asked, looking bewildered.
Claws sinking into the ground, Nightfang hissed through gritted teeth, "He's not coming."
"Not coming? What?" Icecloud's irritation edged all around her, clotting her fish-like RiverClan scent. "What's wrong with him? Has he got bees in his brain? He's prophesized to come with us—how can he just…back out like that?"
"It's because he's a coward. He wants to stay behind because he believes we'll all die." Each word was harder for Nightfang to drag out. "He thinks that this way, he'll have a better shot at becoming leader of ShadowClan. Hah! As if."
"Well, let's go after him and make him see the light!" Lightstep was pacing around agitatedly, a heavy fear-scent wreathing around him. "That idiot…"
"There's no point to that," Silvermist meowed reasonably, though her claws were scored deep in the earth. "He's probably already halfway back to his camp. And plus, we haven't got time to waste persuading him to go. We've got to set out at once. ShadowClan will recognize his cowardice and dishonor him for it. But for now…we've got our own worries."
"She's got a point," Icecloud murmured. Letting out a weary sigh, the blue-gray she-cat turned to the others. She closed her eyes for a heartbeat before meowing slowly, "Well, this is it then…Are you all ready for the adventure of a lifetime?"
"Bring it!" Lightstep retorted defiantly. Snowflower's eyes narrowed, and she nodded.
A small, hard smirk appeared on Icecloud's face. "Then let's go."
As Nightfang padded off with the other four cats at his side, he erased all the miscellaneous thoughts from his mind. He didn't know where the mountains were, exactly, and he didn't know if his strategy would work. But he was starting over now, starting a new journey that would take him to an unknown place. He narrowed his eyes and forced his mind to focus solely on doing his job as the five remaining chosen ones strode towards the mountains, where BloodClan was waiting for them.
Yar. You never saw that coming, didja? xD
So Flamepool's the coward from the first chapter...One down, two to go! I wonder who the traitor and the really dangerous cat are? Well, you'll find out who the dangerous cat is soon enough...
o.o Yeah. ^^" Thanks to my reviewers for Chapter Seven: Kinkajou Karata, Skystripe, MushroomT, Shadow Before The Storm, and Grassy Leaves. Speaking of Grassy Leaves, thanks, Grasseh, for the awesome beta-work! :]
As usual, R&R please~