Sorry for the slow update. D: I've been really busy (week before spring break always is ^.^) with schoolwork and stuff. :/ Here's the next chapter. Btw, I've decided to split this story in half and put it into two fanfictions, so it will have a sequel.

...

She had thought she would be exhilarated and filled with excitement, but all she felt was a dull pang of misery in her chest. Her eyes scoured the crowd looking for a pair of familiar amber eyes. Another wave of disappointment crashed over her as she failed to find him once more. Firepaw didn't even know why she was looking. She knew that he wasn't here. Bitterly, she blinked away tears as she forced herself not to think about it.

He was missing her big moment; her warrior ceremony.

"I, Bramblestar, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. She has trained in the ways of your warrior code, and I commend her as a warrior to you in turn. Firepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your clan, even at the cost of your life?" her father's voice echoed around her ears.

Firepaw smiled bitterly up at him, "I do." She was going to die for her clan in the end anyway. It was almost inevitable. With her diminishing health, and all the strain put on her, this was bound to kill her. Besides, the only reason she was put back on here was to stop the very tom that she was in love with. What a cruel twist of irony.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Firepaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Firebreeze. StarClan honors your determination and courage, and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan," Bramblestar's eyes sparkled with pride as he smiled down at his daughter.

Firebreeze.

The ginger she-cat had woken up three sunrises ago, before making a surprisingly swift recovery. She had padded into her father's den the previous night, and quietly requested the name Firebreeze. Thankfully, he didn't ask her why. Her eyes were half-lidded with guilt; Tigerflame had dedicated his name to her, whilst she had dedicated hers to a psychopathic and obsessive tom who had full intention of destroying the clans.

Vaguely, she realized she hadn't rasped her tongue across his shoulder yet. Numbly, she stepped forward and licked his shoulder. She forced herself not to flinch as he rested his muzzle on her shoulder.

This ceremony felt so fake- all of it. It felt like a fraud, and she felt like a phony.

The cheers of the other cats echoed in her ears, but she closed her eyes and stepped away. They were cheering her name; but she didn't deserve it. She already had a warrior name- Fireheart. She had already lived a life. Firebreeze knew she wasn't meant to be born. She had taken away the original kit's life and replaced it with her own. She had been a murderer before she was even born. The ginger she-cat was born with blood on her claws.

And now she was even learning how to kill. Although it was just for a plan, it felt nice. Nice to be free from everything, and just train. To take out your anger on a tree by shredding the bark, or by thumping another cat to the ground. She wasn't faking her satisfaction, but her whole personality was a facade. She wasn't cold and distant, nor was she dominant. She doesn't threaten. She was a hero, not a villain.

So why is it that she likes her "dark forest" personality more than her actual one? Why does it feel so good to wear that mask? Why is it that even now, she yearned to be back in that shadowy forest, snarling dangerously at Breezepelt with "ice" in her veins?

What was happening to her?

Why did she feel like a completely different cat?

"Remember to sit vigil," a cat meowed as they passed by. Then it was just a blur of colors, and pelts.

One cat stayed by her side, looking concerned. A broad-shouldered golden tabby tom. "Are you okay?" he asked her worriedly, his sun-colored amber eyes gleaming. "You look… mildly guilty."

Immediately, she flinched away. "I'm not guilty about anything," she muttered under her breath, pinning her ears defensively against her head.

"Were you even aware of your parents congratulating you?" The golden tabby tom blinked at her. Firebreeze stiffened in shock. When had her parents come to congratulate her? Why didn't she remember? "They came and told you congratulations, but you just stared blankly ahead. You were so distant. Like a completely different cat."

Firebreeze's heart began to thump in her chest. "What? What are you talking about?" she whispered, beginning to feel frightened. "I'm not different. Why would I be any different?" Before he could look at her funny, before she could arouse any more suspicion, she scuttled away, flicking her tail from side to side, and kept her head low.

The ginger she-cat hadn't told anybody about her plan with Breezepelt. She couldn't. If she did, then she would end up confessing how much she really liked it. And why was she missing pieces of her memory? What if she ended up saying, or doing something she regretted?

Her head full of worry, Firebreeze quietly padded to the camp entrance and settled into a comfortable crouch, blinking her bright green eyes to prevent herself from slipping into sleep.

"We're finally out of that StarClan-forsaken place," Ivypool muttered, shaking droplets of muddy water from her pelt, her expression one of disgust.

Hazeltail shot her an amused look, but her eyes were darkened with pain. She leaned heavily against Foxleap, her breath coming in pants as she swiftly tired. Her fore-paw was curled inward to her chest and lifted off the ground. It was sprained.

They had stayed one night at the Tribe, before they had started moving again. It took them almost three whole sunrises to finally navigate themselves out of that Twoleg-place. After wandering a bit too close to some Twolegnests, a dog raced out of a house and chased after them. Hazeltail skidded a bit too close to a Thunderpath and in her desperate attempt to turn around and climb up a fence, she sprained her paw. Badly.

As they finally padded out of the place full of noise and chaos, Tigerflame let out a sigh of relief, which quickly turned into a gasp of awe as he saw it. Highstones. An almost dream-like phase settled over him as a vision of himself receiving his nine lives darted through his mind. "Highstones…" he whispered, half to himself, "it's so good to see you again." Then he shook it off.

It didn't strike him as odd when he remembered things like that anymore.

"Let's rest up at the barn first," Foxleap meowed, with a worried glance at Hazeltail. She panted heavily, but she shook her head determinedly, "no, it's okay. I'm fine, really," she promised, but she clearly wasn't.

Jayfeather agreed, which puzzled Tigerflame. The gray tabby tom didn't strike him as a cat who was particularly patient. Then Tigerflame realized. They didn't have a game plan, nor did Jayfeather meet with Firepaw yet.

The ginger she-cat was supposed to have talked to him in a dream the previous night. Once Firepaw entered the realms of StarClan, Bluestar would call Jayfeather. But it never happened. Tigerflame felt a tremor of worry run through him. What could possibly be causing this delay?

Why didn't Firepaw meet with them? What wasn't she telling them?

"Firebreeze," a black-furred tom purred, his amber eyes gleaming as his muzzle curved into a devilish grin, "I'm glad you've held up your side of the bargain. I hadn't yet- as you haven't quite perfected your technique."

The ginger she-cat smiled prettily at him, but her green eyes were like chips of ice, "well, what are you waiting for?"

His purr rumbled in his throat as he dropped in a crouch, swishing his tail from side to side. She mirrored his movement, except curled her tail over her spine.

"Attack me," he meowed.

She didn't spare a moment, before she leapt forward. She felt a tingle of satisfaction as she leapt, seeing a flicker of fear in his eyes. He sidestepped, but she lashed out a paw to rake his side as she leapt. He aimed a heavy blow to her side, but she matched him, blow for blow. Suddenly, he fell backwards. She blinked, startled. In her moment of surprise, he shot forward and aimed for her belly, shoving her backwards and pinning her onto the ground.

Firebreeze writhed beneath him, spitting angrily. Her paw flashed forward, aiming a cut to his muzzle, but she missed. However, he lightly traced his claws along the scar that he had carved into her face. He dragged his paw lower, so it started at the top of his chest. Then he took one claw and slowly dragged it down her stomach.

"Do it fast, and you can rip somebody's stomach open. Not necessarily the most clean way, definitely the most gory, but it still does the trick," the nonchalant way that he spoke of murder should have bothered her, but it didn't. Instead, she found herself leaning forward, almost eager to learn.

Instead of letting her up, his paw dragged even lower. She spat at him, "don't you dare." His eyes were clouded with lust. Fury and sudden panic overwhelming her, she twisted beneath his grip. She pushed upwards as hard as she can, slamming their skulls together. His hold on her weakened, and she stumbled backwards, dropping into a defensive crouch.

"Please?" he begged her, his voice husky, eyes glassy and unfocused.

"No."

The black tom hissed in frustration, but reluctantly drew himself together. Squaring his shoulders, he beckoned her to him. "Come with me, Firebreeze. It's time we get you a real opponent. One that you can kill."

What she didn't know was, he was planning on blackening her. It was going to be like the process of a decaying apple. After she takes her first life, then the process of rotting will begin. Her insides will start to rot, to deteriorate. And there will be no way to heal her again.

Soon, she'll be rotten to her core.