EPILOGUE

Thistleclaw stared down at the muddy pool in front of him, his lip curled into a sneer. It was a pitiful thing, a puddle held in by a frame of cobbled together rocks and bramble, and yet it was the most important water in all of the Dark Forest. In it, he saw the lake, the ice turning a glossy red as it reflected the burning fires on RiverClan territory. He had not arranged for that to happen – had no way to control the flight of Twoleg creatures, after all – but it had been prophesied.

Blood will spill blood, and the lake will run red.

Hawkfrost had been particularly attached to that, thinking that the prophecy that had foretold his death would be used against the Clans that had rejected and destroyed him. But Hawkfrost had been arrogant and weak, and his death – well, his second death – had not been unexpected. He had been so foolish, so blind, unable to see that he had no part in Thistleclaw's master plan. He had failed to ensure Dawnpaw's death, and now there was no more use for him.

The grey and white tom beckoned over his new second-in-command, Mapleshade. He had always liked the she-cat, liked her thirst for blood and her vicious attitude. The dappled ginger she-cat padded over and sat down at the pool beside her, patiently waiting for Thistleclaw to speak.

"Are your warriors ready?" he asked. "Dawnpaw opened the portal with her return, and now we can flood through, storming the Clans."

Mapleshade hesitated. "StarClan is blocking it, Thistleclaw," she reported.

His sneer turned into a sour frown. StarClan was always going to be in their way, though it was sometimes a blessing in disguise – for everything StarClan did to try and stop the Dark Forest, they only made them stronger. Still... "Blocking it?" he asked. "How? The fabric between our world and theirs is starting to tear. Cats are already returning, those lost in the grey between life and death. Grainstar was the first, but there will be more."

"It is frustrating," Mapleshade agreed. "But StarClan can only hold us back for so long. And every drop of power they exert to keep us at bay is a drop of power we can use to make our warriors stronger when StarClan does eventually falter."

It was true. This was a losing battle for StarClan. "Then why even hold out at all?" Thistleclaw scoffed. "They're too scared to accept their fate. And I imagine..." Here he frowned again. "I imagine they want to give the Clans time to try and prepare – as if the Clans could stop us."

Mapleshade snarled. "I wish they would stop being cowards. My warriors are restless."

"I know, I know," said Thistleclaw soothingly, still staring down into the pool. "And we will have our revenge soon enough. For now, any preparation the Clans attempt will be offset by WindClan's weakness and RiverClan's destruction. We just have to have patience. There's nothing the Clans can do to stop us."

He turned around so he was facing the legion of warriors behind him. They stood tall and proud, eyes glittering with malice, ready to fight and to kill – and they would. They would get their revenge. And even if the worst happened, and the Clans somehow fought back and pushed them back down to the Dark Forest, it would only be a matter of time before they were back.

As long as StarClan continued to meddle in the lives of the Clans, they would lend power to those waiting down below, and the cycle would continue to repeat itself. Except every time, the Dark Forest would grow stronger, until they reached a point such as right now – the point where they could easily obliterate the Clans. StarClan would be powerless against them.

They would usher in an era of endless night.

x x x

It was midnight by the time they reached the top of the mountain. It had been a hard climb, tiring especially for Chantelle, who was used to living in the flatness of the city. She wasn't sure if Elmheart was having the same problem. The well-muscled tom had mostly kept silent during the walk, and she could see the nervousness and apprehension on his face.

They were surrounded by a group of Tribe cats who had found them along the way and had offered to escort them back to the Tribe. The cats, who introduced themselves as preycatchers, were friendly enough. They left Elmheart alone, though they continued to shoot nervous glances at Chantelle, and especially at her belly.

Her pregnancy was one of the first things they had brought up to the Tribe cats, to make sure she would be safe on the climb up up the mountain. Chantelle couldn't wait to be a mother – it was all that she had ever wanted. Once, she had wanted to bear Alder's kits, but that dream had since passed. Now, being with Elmheart was making her happier than she could ever remember.

She stumbled over a stone as they made their way up the ledge, and Elmheart was immediately there to help stabilize her. His scent flooded her, wrapping around her and steadying her. The warmth of his golden-brown body was a comfort, and his green eyes were filled with complete love and devotion. Elmheart had left his Clan for her, and Chantelle knew there was nothing more she could ask of him.

"Careful," he murmured, pressing against her, strengthening her. Ever since leaving ThunderClan, he had been more solemn than usual, but his feelings had come out in bits and pieces. He had told her about his parents, about his father, and how terrible he felt to have not seen him before death. He talked about feeling alone. You saved me, Chantelle, he had said, and it was the most romantic thing she had ever heard.

"I love you," she told him quietly, licking his cheek.

He purred, pressing his tail against her flank to guide her up the cliff. "I love you too," he said, and the earnest honesty in his voice made her fall in love all over again. They had saved each other, had healed each other from the terrible scars of unrequited love, and now they were going to start a new life together.

There was nothing more that she could ask for.

"Are we almost there?" Elmheart asked one of the preycatchers, a dark silvery-grey she-cat called Moon.

Moon, or Moon That Eclipses the Sun, looked back toward them and nodded. "It's just at the top of this cliff," she mewed, casting a nervous glance at Chantelle's belly. "We will be there momentarily. The first climb is always the hardest, don't worry."

The Tribe cats, their bodies slicked in mud, seemed so strong and so tough. Chantelle didn't know how she would become one of them, but she was glad that she would get a chance to accomplish something by herself, and not always be trapped in Alder's shadow.

They scrambled up the last bit of rock and suddenly found themselves at the mouth of a large cave. Pointed stones hung from the top, water dripping off of them and onto the cold, grey stone below. Inside, the cave was dark, but Chantelle could make out the shapes of cats, milling around. A few turned their attention to the approaching patrol. The air inside seemed cold, and a shiver passed through her, a sense of foreboding. How long until she could feel like this was home?

"Follow us," said Moon. "It's alright. No need to be frightened."

But the gaping mouth of the cave was different than anything Chantelle had seen before. She had just been adjusting to life in the forest when now, she was put here. Part of her wanted to run back to the city, but there was no place for her there, not anymore, not without constantly being reminded of Alder. The Tribe was the only place that she and Elmheart could exist without his influence; where they could truly be together.

Somewhere the thoughts of Alder and Dawnpaw couldn't find them.

Elmheart noticed her hesitation, because he pressed himself against her to steady her, drawing his tongue over her cheek. "Everything's going to be alright," he promised, and Chantelle wished that she could believe it.

Because there was something she hadn't told him.

The black she-cat was holding a terrible secret inside of her, weighing her down – she had lied to the tom that meant everything to her, that she was preparing to spend the rest of her life with. She had to lie, there had been no other way – and it would all work out in the end.

Besides, Elmheart would never know, and she would never tell him. His love was what she needed more than anything, and she leaned into his warmth, her tail pressing against his flank. She knew that their love had been quick and sudden, but she felt it fervently, burning through her, how he had been there for her, willing to fall for her, not distant and cold like Alder.

She saw feelings in Elmheart's eyes that she had never seen in Alder's, and Chantelle just couldn't stand hurting herself anymore. This was now and this was real.

Moon and the rest of the Tribe cats led them into the cave. Elmheart went first after them, and Chantelle followed him, shivering uncomfortably once more as drops of water fell from the rocks and onto her fur. It was colder than she had expected, the cats cast in hues of grey and brown, and for a moment the she-cat was terrified. Terrified that everything was wrong and this place would never be right for her, but she couldn't ask Elmheart to leave, not again.

They walked through the main cave and into a smaller one attached to it, where moonlight filtered in from a hole in the roof and the ground was covered in pointed stones. An old grey tom stood there, looking up as they entered. His eyes were milky and unfocused, but he seemed to be able to pinpoint their location from the sound of their pawsteps. Beside the old tom stood two younger toms, their pelts washed clean of the mud – one a handsome grey and white, and the other a fiery ginger.

"Who have you brought me, Moon?" asked the old tom, recognizing her by smell.

"Outsiders who wish to join us," she mewed, dipping her head reverently. She turned toward them and flicked her tail. "This is Stoneteller, our leader, who can communicate with our ancestors."

"Hello, Stoneteller," said Elmheart, voice confident and unwavering while still respectful. "We have travelled from the Clans in order to join you. We no longer feel at home in the Clans and are looking for a new home, one where we can work hard and contribute, and a place to... to raise our kits."

Stoneteller was silent for a moment. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully. "We do not get many asking to join us, but you may take shelter here. Spend time with us and we will see whether or not you have the makings of a Tribe cat. Then I will decide. For now, Squall and Blaze can show you around." He motioned at the two younger toms beside him, who padded forward.

Moon nodded and padded away, going back to join the rest of the Tribe in the main cave. The grey and white tom padded over to Chantelle and Elmheart, a friendly smile on his face. "I'm Squall that Darkens the Sky," he said, introducing himself.

"I'm Blaze," said the ginger tom, glossing over his lack of title as tough it were nothing. "Clan cats, eh? It's not an easy transition, but..." He trailed off, padding past them and beckoning them forward. "Anyway, welcome!"

And there in the moonlight, surrounded by friendly faces and beside Elmheart, Chantelle felt alright again. She could do this. They would make it through.

And just because she wasn't pregnant yet didn't mean she would never be. How long could it take?

Everything would be fine.

XX XX XX XX

A/N: Terrible epilogue but you get the gist of it! Thistle wants to wreck the Clans, Elmheart and Chantelle join the Tribe (except, gasp, she lied about her pregnancy!). Squall and Blaze play pretty big into the next book as well. Gonna update next with a big author's note and then probably get started on Book 3 (which I will talk about in the A/N).

Sorry for the late update, been really busy with exams.

For the last time in KotS, thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)