HEAVY paws, heavier heart, Sedgestrike collapsed into her bedding with the weight of the heavens on her shoulders. The journey back to MarshClan was a blur, a smudge in her head; her mind's eye was smeared with an inky black blot, blinding her of what occurred between Father's Fang and the comfort of her nest. Where did her spirit lie? She felt like the roots that grounded her soul to the earth were being savagely dug up by a boar's tusk, gouging into her, churning her from the soil to mercilessly expose her. She rolled over in her nest, pressing close to Ospreyflight.
"Are you awake?" she whispered to her.
Ospreyflight rolled to her side to face Sedgestrike, eyes wide open. She did not look fatigued at all. If anything, she looked scared, like she was frozen in a living nightmare. Upon gazing into her friend's yellow eyes, she noticed her reflection in her pupils. Her expression mirrored Ospreyflight's. They were both terrified.
"I haven't been able to sleep," Ospreyflight mewed. "I can't get that horrible place out of my head."
The ache in Sedgestrike's paws reminded her of how real "that horrible place" was. Though she felt betrayed by her friend in Father's Fang for abandoning her, she was thankful now that she did not have to endure the sights Sedgestrike did. She was thankful her friend did not share the same scars on her palms.
"Why did you leave?" Sedgestrike asked, voice hoarse. Despite her gratitude for Ospreyflight's exemption from the initiation, she had to know.
"I…" Ospreyflight blinked rapidly, seemingly struggle to recollect, or comprehend, what occured in the caves. "I saw him."
"Who?"
"I saw… Hemlockstar." Ospreyflight laughed softly, sounding tired. "It's impossible isn't it? He's supposed to be dead." Her brows furrowed. "But I know it was him."
"He came to you in the passageway?" Sedgestrike presumed. That was the last place Ospreyflight was seen.
She nodded. "He was… walking beside me. He looked, smelled, sounded so-so real!" The disbelief in her voice made it squeak, and they both flattened her ears when Snakefang stirred near them.
They were surrounded by the cats that escorted them to Father's Fang. The heart of the warriors den, where it was warmest and safest, was consumed by the paragons Sedgestrike now fraternized with. She shuddered, knowing they needed to keep quiet.
"He came to you," Sedgestrike realized, breathless. "He must be one of the paragons."
"The what?" Ospreyflight wrinkled her nose in confusion.
"Paragons… that's…" Sedgestrike leaned in, softening her voice. "That's what we are, what you would've been. It's like… a group of cats in our Clan that believe in something besides StarClan."
Ospreyflight's features darkened with fear. "Like what?"
"They call it… the Place of Eternal Night." Sedgestrike shivered at the mention of it. Something seemed off about the mere existence of such a place.
"That makes sense," Ospreyflight growled gently. "There's no way a cat like Hemlockstar could get into StarClan."
"What did he say to you anyway?" Sedgestrike asked.
Ospreyflight's eyes widened. Sedgestrike noticed she was trembling softly. She had never seen her friend so frightened. "He… thanked me," Ospreyflight murmured, perturbed. "He thanked me for making sure his legacy was remembered."
"His legacy?" Sedgestrike's eyes widened when the explanation dawned on her. "You mean… when you presented your knowledge of him during the test? When you recounted all those horrible things he did?"
Ospreyflight nodded. "His spirit felt so… real. It's like he was one of us." She was shaking her head in incredulousness. "Sedgestrike," she murmured warily, "if Hemlockstar is a paragon and a resident in the Place of Eternal Night… I do not think that is a place where good cats go."
"What are you saying?" Sedgestrike muttered cautiously. "Do you think they're all bad?"
"I-I don't know." Ospreyflight frowned. There was a forlorn twinkle in her eye, and Sedgestrike pressed her nose to her cheek in comfort. "Sedgestrike, my mother is a paragon. You're a paragon. And Batface. You guys, you guys aren't bad."
"Don't worry. I'll… I'll figure out what's going on."
"How?"
Sedgestrike stared into Ospreyflight's eyes intently. "I just have to get them to trust me."
Her friend nodded, pressing closer. Sedgestrike grunted in surprise, moving to wrap her paw around Ospreyflight and hold her close. She was not used to Ospreyflight wanting to be this close to her. Usually, her friend enjoyed her personal space. She must be really upset, Sedgestrike realized.
As they pressed close, Sedgestrike found sleep. Shutting her eyes, she enjoyed Ospreyflight's warmth, hoping it would shield her from a rest riddled in terror.
It did not.
When she opened her eyes, she stood in a swamp. The water that collected at the roots and knees of the cypress trees was murky, almost black, and cold to the touch. Frost gathered at the nooks and crannies of the trees surrounding her, twinkling silently, almost menacingly, in the darkness. Where spongy, green moss should have been along the trunks and roots of trees, ice grew. It held an eerie blue sheen in the night like a raven's feather.
Billows of frost escaped Sedgestrike's fangs as she breathed. The air tasted cold. There was no hint of life in the air, not the sweetness of prey nor the bitterness of bog. Even during the moons of rivernarrow, MarshClan never got this cold. Her thick fur did little to protect her against the occasional chilling gust that howled through the cypress swamp, causing their branches to creak and wail. The canopy of intertwined limbs scratched against one another as they rustled, making the low-hanging tangles of moss shiver.
"Where am I?" she wondered.
It felt so… empty here. Yet, Sedgestrike could not shake the feeling of being watched.
"You're home," a voice rumbled from behind.
Sedgestrike turned to see a cluster of bromeliad. The bushes held bright red blossoms at their centers, which unfurled vibrantly in the dark. From the depths, a spotted brown tabby emerged. His glowing yellow eyes found Sedgestrike's, and a knowing smile grew on his muzzle.
"Hello, Sedgestrike," the tom mewed.
"Who are you?" she hissed, fur bristling mistrustfully.
The temperature around her seemed to drop as the tomcat approached. Once he set foot onto the shallow water, he did not step into it, but on it. Sedgestrike's eyes widened when she saw him walk on the surface effortlessly, while she remained with her legs partially submerged.
"I am Pikestar." His introduction was colored with pride.
Whitestar's predecessor was far less intimidating than she was. He did not share the frosty glint in her eyes nor the ice in his words. Instead, he seemed… rather normal, but that only made Sedgestrike more suspicious. She remembered Scorchface, and how she accused Whitestar of being more diabolical than Pikestar. Her eyes narrowed. There had to be some menace behind those yellow eyes if there was even to be a comparison between the two.
"What do you want?" Sedgestrike growled.
Pikestar stepped closer, brow quirked. There was an odd crackling noise sounding from the bottom of his paws. Sedgestrike drew her eyes to the sound, seeing a thin sheet of ice forming wherever the leader stepped. She unsheathed her claws, unsure of how to react to the magic.
"To welcome you," Pikestar mewed cryptically. He smiled. "You are our newest paragon after all; everyone in the Order deserves to be recognized. I am here to guide you, you see."
"I don't need your guidance," Sedgestrike rebuked, raising her chin in defiance. Whatever the Place of Eternal Night was a part of, she only needed to respect their desires on the surface. Anything deeper than that, she promptly turned her nose up at.
"Yes you do," Pikestar corrected, chuckling softly. He regarded her as if she were a rebellious kit. "You may be a paragon, but you cannot access the proper knowledge and power without me."
"I don't want it."
A flicker of annoyance shone on Pikestar's once confident visage. "Stubborn, are we?" He chuckled again. Sedgestrike sensed his patience waning. However, when an impish glint appeared in his gaze, she stiffened. He was not done. "I suppose you do not want to know more about the prophecy then?"
"You know about the prophecy?" Sedgestrike hissed. There it was, the bait. Sedgestrike felt like a dull, hungry fish as he dangled a worm before her and she haplessly puckered at the morsel. I'm so pathetic…
"Of course I do," Pikestar mewed arrogantly, smiling down on her. "It came from Us."
"The prophecy… it's from the Place of Eternal Night?!" Sedgestrike hissed in disbelief.
Pikestar nodded. "StarClan," he spat the word like an insult. "They aren't the only ones that can conjure the secrets of the future. We too can see what lies beyond: a mass of possibilities all intertwined like a spider's web; the threads of time may seem thin and flimsy, but they are limitless." His words hissed through his fangs. "Don't be so ignorant and believe that only StarClan can know the best path to take. Our future is much, much brighter."
Sedgestrike was rendered speechless, standing before Pikestar like prey being held at bay.
"You are meant to serve Us," Pikestar explained firmly. "There is no question about that."
"Serve the Place of Eternal Night, you mean?" Sedgestrike growled. She refused to believe she was made to serve anyone but StarClan.
Pikestar nodded once. "And your siblings are meant to serve you."
Sedgestrike froze. That did not sound right. "Serve me?"
"You're the oldest, the strongest, you are born the true paragon. Your siblings… they are just pawns, but they too have abilities to help you succeed."
"My siblings aren't pawns!" Sedgestrike snapped. "They are family. I will not use them like servants for whatever agenda you have in store for me."
Backing away, Sedgestrike felt like the trees were closing in. The curled around her like gnarled claws, and Pikestar was keeping pace with her effortlessly. When Sedgestrike turned to run, the water froze, trapping her instantly. Pikestar padded on the ice haughtily, staring down at Sedgestrike and clicking his tongue.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk… thinking you can outrun me." Pikestar smirked. "You are a fool if you think you can escape Us now." His chuckle was dark as the shadows surrounding them. "You marked yourself with Father's Fang. You joined the Order. You belong to the Place of Eternal Night."
Sedgestrike struggled in the ice in vain. Her legs were frozen. "No!" she protested.
"Oh, and We do apologize for disturbing you about the whole 'not meant to be' part in the prophecy… It was just a jab at StarClan." He snickered and shrugged thoughtlessly. "We like to poke fun at Their arcane rule about medicine cats not being able to have kits and such. Silly creatures. Your mother would've made a fine medicine cat, and a finer servant to Us. But don't worry, We will take care of some of those fussy traditions once we rid of StarClan for good."
Sedgestrike spat at Pikestar. "Don't speak about my mother, you-you vile waste of flesh. And don't you dare slander StarClan!"
"Ooh, fiery." Pikestar smirked. "I like that. You'll do good for Us." He stalked passed Sedgestrike, flicking her nose with his tail tip. "I will be visiting often. I am very eager to start working together, you see."
His laughter rung in her ears even after she woke up again. Sedgestrike sat up in her nest, angry and hurt and hopeless. Pikestar was nowhere near as intimidating as Whitestar, but he was by far way more annoying. Gazing down at her paw, she brought one up to stare at her palm. Sure enough, diagonally across the pad, was the faintest ridge of a scar. Sighing, Sedgestrike wrestled with the notion of being connected to the Place of Eternal Night… forever. She felt nothing but rage for the paragons. They had to know the allegiance they bolstered, and yet they gladly let Sedgestrike blindly bound into their claws. She felt tricked. Used.
The pale glow of dawn filtered through the plumegrass, saving Sedgestrike from her self-loathing with its reassuring warmth. Rising to her paws, she left Ospreyflight and the rest of the warriors to greet the rising sun. Birds twittered along the branches of the surrounding trees, flitting across camp as they rustled and enjoyed their flirting fancies. The air was warm and sweet with the emergence of blossoming flowers and fresh life. The time of riverswell was at its most endearing stage: renewal, when flora bloomed and new life was born. The warmth of the morning was a comfortable juxtaposition to her chilling dream.
Inhaling deeply, she meandered over to the fresh-kill pile which sat beside the marigold that composed the medicine den. Plucking herself a sparrow, she decided she needed to force herself to eat something.
"Good morning."
Sedgestrike turned to a familiar, comforting purr, seeing Blueflower. "Hello," she greeted softly, smiling.
The warrior rested beside her, and her long, blue-gray fur brushed against her own. Together, they gazed beyond the Fallen Cypress to the twinkling surface of Mother Lake. The massive body of water held the sunshine in its rippling face, gleaming peacefully.
"It's a beautiful morning," Blueflower murmured.
Sedgestrike nodded, taking a bite of her sparrow. She enjoyed the comfortable silence between them. Before, it would rattle Sedgestrike senseless to be so close to the warrior and have nothing to say. Now, she was solaced by their unspoken connection. It seemed time only aged their relationship for the better. Sedgestrike carefully nudged the sparrow towards Blueflower, offering.
"Thank you." She carefully took a bite out of the fresh-kill, pausing to stare at Sedgestrike's paw.
Sedgestrike winced and pulled her paw away, tucking it by her chest.
"What happened?" Blueflower asked. "That's a curious mark…"
"Uhm… nothing. I just scraped on something during my test."
"It looked fresh," Blueflower countered. Her tone was full of concern, but most noticeably, suspicion.
Sedgestrike shrugged. "It's just healing slowly." She hated lying to Blueflower. She felt her secret drive a wedge between them, creating a divide that was as unsettling as it was unwanted. But how could she tell Blueflower the truth? Where would she begin? Her golden eyes found her white paws. They were near the half-eaten sparrow, barely touching its mangled feathers. Sedgestrike suddenly wasn't so hungry anymore.
"I can tell you're hiding something from me," Blueflower mewed softly, eyes downcast. "If you want to talk, I'm here, but I won't force you to say anything if you don't want to."
Sedgestrike stole a glance at her, noting how she appeared silently resigned. Though Sedgestrike felt a pang of guilt, she took advantage of Blueflower's graciousness. She would allow the secret to remain between them, for now. Maybe once Sedgestrike knew more, she would say something. She silently prayed the secret would not fester.
A warm breeze filtered through camp, carrying the faint scent of smoke. Sedgestrike's eyes flitted up to gaze in the direction the breeze came from. In the distance, beyond Mother Lake, she saw a billow of black emerging from the earth. Fire.
Spiderfang was rushing across the clearing to Sedgestrike now, and the warrior stiffened when the deputy glanced between her and Blueflower in confusion. Was there something wrong about their closeness? "Sedgestrike," he greeted, panting. "You will be leading the dawn patrol. Rally your warriors with haste; that fire does not look like its close to us, but we need to know if it's coming our way."
Rising to her paws, Sedgestrike was dumbfounded but pleased by the task. Leading a patrol was a great honor. For her to be tasked as a new warrior was flattering. Her spirits fell, however, when she realized it was because of their mutual membership… This must be a "perk" for being a paragon, she realized.
"Right," Sedgestrike agreed, nodding to her deputy. When the small black tom retreated to the Fallen Cypress, she knew he would be organizing a hunting party next. She turned to Blueflower questioningly, and the warrior nodded.
With Blueflower on her patrol, she only needed two more to accompany her before they set out. Hurrying to the warriors den, she peeked in to see Ospreyflight grooming herself. "Hey, want to come on the dawn patrol?" she asked.
"I've already been assigned to a hunting party," Ospreyflight mewed apologetically.
"We'll go!" Sedgestrike groaned internally when she heard Snakefang perk up from his nest. The lanky brown tabby stood and stretched with a grin. "I'll bring Pebblepaw along too."
From beside him, Zinniablossom rose, yawning. "Thanks for volunteering for me," she grumbled sardonically. "To think, I could've actually slept in for once."
"Bah! Who needs sleep? We're warriors! We survive on the blood of our enemies and the spirit of our ancestors!"
Sedgestrike rolled her eyes and flashed a glare at Ospreyflight, catching her snickering. "I'll get you back for this," she muttered to her friend playfully.
Ospreyflight shrugged and mouthed the words, "I'm so scared."
Leading her troop of warriors out of the den, she made her way to Blueflower where she waited alongside the wall of sawgrass. "I'm sorry," she mewed to her.
The warrior was confused, tilting her head. "About what?"
"The patrol we're about to be on," Sedgestrike grumbled.
Before long, Zinniablossom came trotting up, shooting a sharp glare at Blueflower. "Blueflower," she greeted stiffly.
"Zinniablossom," Blueflower returned Zinniablossom's curt tone. When Zinniablossom paused to give her tortoiseshell fur a quick groom, Blueflower nodded with understanding to Sedgestrike, and they both giggled softly.
Once Snakefang arrived with Pebblepaw, the patrol was complete. The first swathes of orange colored the sky as the sun began to rise, but the pastel glow was muddled by plumes of gray. Somewhere, the earth was set aflame, but Sedgestrike did not fear the fire. She knew all too well the real danger was ice.