A/N: Heyyy guys. I have finals this week, so that's fun, and my cousins also have state-testing this week and will need my laptop too, so let's hope I can actually get this done. In other news, this pandemic's got me scared whenever I have even an inkling of a dry/sore throat, even though it goes away like, literally the next day, and my family is full of complete idiots that still invite people over on the weekends. Here's hoping nothing happens to us because of their stupidity. Glad that Winter break is here though, I look forward to going on writing sprees.

Anywho, the story! Let's get back to it and this messy life, whoo!

Reviews

Lightstreame (Guest)- Well, I have hinted at them being related, yes XD. I do have a backstory planned for Redstar, but as to when it'll come out? We'll see. Remember, Commoners are only allowed to have one kit. I have a name planned for them already, so wait and see (and it was mentioned before). But it would be very sweet if they named it after one of them. Thanks for the birthday wishes! Uhh… This chapter? Surprise? Lol. Hello again! I have his planned already, but that is a good idea! Might just have to use that for a different character backstory structure haha. Ah, Ixora. We'll have to wait to hear more about her later possibly, but that is a nice theory. Rubbing acid into the wound is a far better term than salt in the wound lol. Just another day in my story to be honest XD. Flarekitty is gonna try her best to help him, even if he doesn't want her help at all. Nice OC's.

Pineshadow (Guest)- Thank you! Yeah, I try to keep everything on schedule (and it actually annoys me and I feel so bad if I'm forced to skip a week's upload). Fun fact, I'm usually writing every day. Even for the week that isn't for this story, I write for other things (I have a personal project I'm working on, and then another fanfiction for my own eyes until I'm brave enough to upload to somewhere for the RWBY fandom). Wow, yeah. Three years now, technically. I didn't realize how long this story was going on for haha. I wonder when I'll be able to finish it. Coming up with a schedule and sticking to it has helped me a lot because I'm often not in the mood a lot of the time either. Usually, when I get started, it does spark that motivation though. I really missed Rainpaw and I'm looking forward to her interaction with Umbra. Well, now that final's is gone, I am on break now so that's fun.

reading at 3 am is normal- Hi, I love the new name XD. I mean, the other one was a pretty nice name. Speaking of finals, that was not fun, but I am still alive somehow (got a 99/100… don't know whether to be happy or annoyed that she didn't give me that ONE point, but whatever, I'm not mad!) Maybe. Don't really know anymore and I'm just done with 2020 haha. Yeah, all this sadness and sorrow everywhere. Originally, fun fact, it was supposed to be Adderpaw that came to him to talk, but I ultimately decided to have Wildfire come and do that was better. It technically would count as extenuating circumstances… but Commoners don't usually get a nice treatment like that (in case you haven't noticed, lol). Were Redstar to push back the assessment, it could be seen as showing favor, which is dangerous for him. I didn't know that was a technical medical condition, the more you know! Ah yes, the reunion we're patiently waiting for between Windy and raindrop. I'm not a huge Halloween fanatic, but I do enjoy it a bit.

FrostedShadowx- Ah… Renegades. Right. I intended to update that once I was done with this story, but now I don't know if I will actually get around to that. I'm sorry if that disappoints you, but as of now, I don't see myself updating or writing for it anytime soon. Second Review: Early updates are always nice (making up for the fact that I immediately skipped a week after that… I sorry lol). I really hope he kills him too haha. Also, in regards to Shiver "entertaining" the male guards, no you aren't being dirty-minded lol. I did mean it like that, she had to essentially become a slave to them for… those reasons. Not a nice life. (Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.) Why in the heavens would you think I would kill off Whiteshadow XD I'm offended. (Jk, jk. We'll just have to wait and see muahahaha). Good theory regarding our four friends. Love reading your theories. We'll just have to wait for the next time we drop in on our Forestclan friends to see what happens with Mothpaw. Hmm, Moth x Cherry, that's an interesting pairing haha. I could see it though.

Someone (Guest)- I have a feeling this one was you haha. Yes, White and Rain are back and Umbra is here and things are looking terrible already haha. Definitely not bloodthirsty. No, she has not gotten over it. I've hinted at the fact that she has succumbed to her monster now. Huh. I have to say I'm not big on Greek myths and all that, but that's interesting. I just thought it would be fascinating for Sootpaw to refer to him as Nobody (his real name had been Cardinal. Merlot, one of the other rogues, was killed by Emberpaw- the one who had willingly killed themself against her claws. Sylph, Ignis, and Sting escaped, all the others are dead.) Good guesses, good guesses. Maybe one of them would be true? I do have all of their names chosen out already. I usually don't go out of my way to make friends haha, some people just decide that they like me- for some reason- and continue to want to hang out with me and I'm just like, well okay then. Guess we're friends now. Same. I like staying at home (although I'll admit, and I never thought I would admit to this, but quarantine has made me miss going to places and hanging out with the friends I do have). Hmm, a free-for-all brawl between the current Grand Royals? I would still have to say Leafstar would win. Again, depends on a lot of things- like if there's water for Cloudstar or underbrush for Redstar or trees for Leafstar- but overall, I think Leafstar could win, unless she's double-teamed and looking at the rivalry between the other two, the chances of them teaming up are unlikely. Thanks for the clarification, I had an idea it was you haha.

walkswithwheels- Hey, thanks for reviewing! Looking at it that way, I suppose it would be easy for the clan system to be taken down that way. But the way Flarepaw is trying to go is the more peaceful route, trying to make the High Ranks willingly want to drop the system instead of having to resort to bloodshed and war (because even with numbers, Low Ranks are no match for High Ranks). It has been tried before, a Low Rank Rebellion, generations ago and it never worked out (and in those times, they had a lot more numbers than they do now). Good theory though in regards to how King relates to this. Hmm. I would say we are definitely a little more than halfway at this point, but as for how many more there are, I'd have to go and count, and even still, the outline is not 100% complete because I have changed a few things and taken away and added some things since creating the outline. It is going to pick up speed regarding the City and what they're doing now that Ignis is on his way back and whatnot. As for the angst, that is a continuous thing throughout this story. It does let up every now and then but it does come back, maybe not as intense all the time, but in snippets. I do have times of reprieve from the pain and suffering planned, but considering we're essentially going into war soon, it's not gonna go away completely. I do have an ending in mind for this story and peaceful and heavy and good and bad moments between now and then. I apologize if the angst is very heavy and negative and discourages you from continuing, but (I hope) it'll all be worth it in the end. I will keep that in mind though when fleshing out more of the outline and seeing the direction we're going.

KyubiMaster9- Definitely need some sort of therapist for these cats haha. Oh, they would definitely deny having any of those. Are they gonna die? I suppose you'll find out below XD. Tissues and comfort food are always nice to have. Christmas is nice. All of the clans have some sort of forest that corresponds with them; Blazeclan's old territory used to be a beech tree forest with more hills than flat land. But since the fire happened, it is now open plains with sparse grass, so yeah, pretty dry land haha.

PopMordiscos- Nah it's all good, I got it just in time. Ooh, Flarespark is a nice name. Nice theory, nice theory. All theories are always possible unless something happens otherwise haha.

Thanks to everybody who reviewed!

Again, sorry for skipping a week, but you know, life gets in the way sometimes. Without further ado…

Let's get started!

?

"Father… I… I don't mean to question you, but I-I thought you said nobody was allowed over here?"

"Do get rid of that stutter, Spirit. It's unbecoming of my chosen."

"Yes, sir."

Ghost kept his gaze forward where he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Phantom and Wraith, the latter a surprisingly strong she-cat for someone so skin and bones. He grimaced in sympathy each and every time he so much as glanced at his 'sister' out of the corner of his eye. She looked to be starving and fragile, but if it bothered her, she never outwardly showed it.

Maybe she was just trying to kill herself before Father could, to go on her own volition rather than waiting for the world to take her.

Light blue eyes, pale in the reflective morning sun and dark shadows of the hunched buildings of his home, stared straight ahead as he analyzed the street ahead of him and the others. Father stood in front of the group of his 'children,' Shard standing in the far back of the group. It almost appeared protective, their stance and their apparent caution, but Ghost didn't know if Father was worried about anyone's safety other than his true heir's.

The street ahead was empty. Ominously so. Where in the rest of the City, someone was always wandering around to their assigned duties, this place was completely quiet. He worried that if he breathed too hard, Father would hear him and scold him for breathing too loud. Ghost held his breath for a handful of moments at a time, only taking in shallow air until his lungs burned and begged him for more.

Spirit had been right. Though Ghost had never been here before, he recognized the signs of where they were. Buildings even more run-down and falling apart than the others, steel rusted from the elements, and whatever other materials that had made these structures were full of rot and holes. The buildings themselves were surprisingly short and stout compared to the skyscrapers of the others, spread apart by a short strip of land that was probably meant to hold grass if grass ever grew here. Now, it was just dirt and dust and nothing else. It looked abandoned, but then again, so did everything else in this place.

One of the rules he and the rest of Father's chosen had to adamantly follow was to never wander these streets specifically. Not even with an escort or in a group.

Like with everything, questions were bound to spring into everyone's minds, and there were many stories and speculations amongst him and his siblings. Some simple and others so far fetched they could not possibly be real. He had been curious, no doubt, just like the others, but Ghost had been given the order not to come here.

So, he didn't- and his curiosity had been pushed into the back of his mind.

Until now.

Father had corralled them all together at the brink of dawn, urging them into alertness and movement with just his presence alone in their building where they nested. Ghost would have laughed at just how horrified everyone had been, trying to make themselves look presentable and not like they had been snoring the day away if he wasn't equally scared that Father would see him as unbecoming. He had been the first ready, neat as ever he was, and he glowed with pride when Father praised him for his attentiveness. (Glowed with pride only for a few moments, because gloating so obviously was unbecoming in itself.)

Wandering the territory with nary an indication or a single word of where they were going, Ghost hadn't realized where they were until they all came to a stop. No doubt, Spirit was not the only one questioning why they were here, but the runt had been the only one brave enough- or foolish enough- to voice her thoughts. Ghost felt sorry for her, wanting to turn around and give her a look of condolence for being brushed aside so easily- her question not even addressed at all.

He didn't. He wouldn't, he was too scared to look away from Father's back despite how much curiosity made him want to look around.

But the thought was there.

(That had to count for something, right?)

"Stay close to me," Father's voice rumbled from ahead of them before he suddenly began walking, steps heavy as he didn't even try to hide the noise he was making. Why would he? He had no reason to hide from those he ruled over. Ghost quickly scrambled to his paws, Phantom doing the same so they remained side-by-side. Light blue eyes darted to dark golden for a handful of seconds before moving back to Father.

Phantom looked equally as nervous as he felt being here, from their leader's words. Father never told them to remain close, always just taking off and expecting them to keep up or get left behind. His voice sounded a bit strained as well, no obvious nervous quiver though- because Father was scared of no one- and it at least gave them the sense to keep caution.

Father knew best.

So Ghost made sure to keep up, right at his heels with the hopes that Father wouldn't stop abruptly because he really didn't think he would be able to avoid crashing into him. His eyes wandered then, head barely turning with each glance to the side and surveying of each building they walked by. The farther down the street they walked, the more run-down each building became. One had even collapsed into itself apparently, bones of steel remaining even as the skin and meat slid off and fell apart.

It absentmindedly caught up to him that he felt as though he could feel someone's eyes on him, on all of them, but each time he went to look and address it, the feeling disappeared. And reappeared moments later again.

Maybe he was just being paranoid, that would come with walking down a mythical street holding who knows what kind of horrible secrets. (Father knew. Father knew all.)

Light blue eyes flashed to a small hole in one of the buildings, and Ghost felt the fur along the back of his neck rise, a chill passing through him, and his pawsteps faltered. A pair of eyes gleamed from the shadows, like stars across the night sky, staring straight at him. A sickening shade of blue, purple even. Black, if he looked hard enough and convinced himself that's what the color was.

They remained on him, not disappearing like the other flickers of color had been doing. Curious and longing and though Ghost didn't know who those eyes belonged to, he didn't like them one bit. Not the look in their eyes, the gleam of something dangerous. Unhinged and uncontrollable. His life was full of nothing but order and rules and the following of them, so for someone to just look so wild and disobedient…

It rubbed him the wrong way.

He kept walking, the fur bristling along his shoulders as the eyes seemed to follow him.

Ghost didn't know how long they walked or where they were walking to. Father just kept going, and where Father went, they had to follow. The others behind him had an air around them telling of just how freaked out they were. He wondered if they saw the eyes too, or if that was just him. And if it was just him, did that mean he was just seeing things or had they actually existed?

When Father came to an abrupt stop, Ghost was mostly surprised that he could avoid him at all, but he was quickly embarrassed as well. In a grand display of grace, in his attempt to avoid running into Father, Ghost side-stepped and stumbled forward, momentum keeping him going, and he tripped onto the ground. Pelt heating up, Ghost just as quickly pushed himself to his paws, not even bothering to brush himself off, and was just about to head back to his place and avoid looking at Father at all costs when the laughter started.

At first, he thought his siblings were laughing at him, but one shamefaced look at them and his embarrassment quickly bled into unease. They weren't laughing at him. In fact, they were all very quiet and very still, eyes going wide and a few even taking a step back at the sudden laughter. Ghost blinked at them, brow furrowing, before turning his eyes to Father.

Pale amber eyes remained sternly ahead of him, narrowing slightly, but mostly unbothered by Ghost's fall. (That made him feel invisible, and Ghost did not like that feeling one bit.)

"My oh my. What a feast you have brought for us, dearest nothing." More laughter, "and it comes with entertainment! You are much too kind."

Ghost whirled around, claws scraping against the cement of the street as he unsheathed them partway through, and something inside of his chest jumped into overdrive. There wasn't one pair of eyes hidden in the shadows. There were multiple, countless others, of all shades and colors. The figures themselves remained hidden in the darkness of the building at the end of the street, unmoving and staring. Laughing.

One of them stepped forward, and Ghost didn't know what was more threatening at the moment, the one coming closer or the many eyes in the shadows. Staring. Waiting. Watching.

Dusky black fur, stained light brown in most places because of the dust and the dirt and russet in others with something Ghost didn't want to know of, moved with an unhurried pace as a cat wandered forward. Shadows given life, darkness given flesh. (Ruin given freedom.) Curiously enough, unseeing grey eyes stared ahead into nothing, a wicked scar on their muzzle that made it look like whoever this was had a constant scowl.

Blind eyes turned to him and though Ghost knew, logically enough, that this cat couldn't actually see him, it certainly felt like they could. They could stare straight through him and the white-furred tom had never felt more exposed than now.

"You bring me the dead, just like I asked," the perpetually scowling muzzle shifted into a smile, splitting into three different ways with that gash. "The apparitions. How nice."

"I merely wish to show them what lies in this forgotten realm," Father spoke with tenseness in his voice unlike any other. "So that they know not to wander, Nihil. That is all."

"You said my name," the smile grew, blind eyes closing as they took in a deep breath for what seemed like the first time in a while. "You have conflicting words and actions. Some nice, others not. Have you truly forgotten us?" The tail lashed with a sense of urgency, frustration rising. "Nonexistent, you know we can never vanish from memory."

"With that, we will be taking our leave."

"So soon, so soon." Nihil's smile turned to a grimace for a split second before becoming an attempt at a charming grin. Without warning, he stepped closer toward Ghost, and the tom stiffened at his approach. "Must you leave so soon? I wish to speak to the survivor hiding amongst the dead. Is that you?"

"I-"

"Do not speak to him, little ghost." Father cut him off before he could continue, and Ghost was grateful because it gave him an excuse to flounder for words and not speak at all. Father hated when they stuttered.

Nihil didn't seem to like that much, blind eyes turning toward the sky as he let out a harsh groan, frustrated, and abruptly turned to pace away. When Ghost looked back at the eyes, he was startled at seeing so many faces now.

The eyes had moved forward, closer, waiting still. Whoever they were, they were waiting for something to be done so they could jump. As Ghost cautiously looked around, he wondered just how many more faces and crazed eyes were hiding in the other buildings they had passed through.

"At the very least, introduce me to the apparitions, nothing."

"Stop calling me nothing and I will."

"Fine… Zero." Nihil dragged the name out before giggling, "Do you get it? I still called you nothing."

"Listen closely, my chosen, for I only say this once and expect to be heard," Father continued without addressing the strange blind tom. He didn't move or pace or look back at his 'kits,' keeping his pale amber eyes on Nihil. Ghost didn't know whether he was allowed to move back, or if remaining still was the smartest decision.

"The beings before you are not part of my rule. They are outsiders trapped in this district, and here is where they shall remain until the end of time and beyond. They have been cursed by the moon and the sun and all of creation, by the very City itself for misconduct and imperfection. Should you ever come across such a member, defend yourself as you see fit- but above all else, do not kill them! Lest you wish to bear the curse with you instead, their apparitions haunting you for the rest of time. Do not wander to this place and do not ever say any of their names. Am I understood?"

Everyone remained quiet, eyes nervous and frightened and looking at Nihil and to the many faces behind him in the shadows. Ghost's gaze bounced from one eye color to the next, wondering that if he stared long enough at them, would the curse pass onto him through look alone? He found the sickly purple eyes from before on a she-cat's face, a similar dusky black and grey as Nihil was.

"I said, am I understood!?

"Yes, Father!" Their shouts were not unified whatsoever, some louder than others and not one voice like they were trained to do so- Ghost only whispered the words absentmindedly, entranced by the purple eyes- but if it bothered their leader, he said nothing.

Nihil only continued staring, smiling, clearly amused by all of this. Or perhaps he was lost in his own mind, amused by something else regardless. Ghost wondered what he saw when he looked at them before quickly remembering that a blind cat couldn't see anything.

(Or could they see more? Unrestrained by something as paltry as simple sight?)

The owner of the purple eyes broke away from the rest of the group of faces, the group that came ever closer until Ghost could even see full bodies and pelts, stepping forward with an unhurried pace. Nihil's ears flicked back, his head turning partially over his shoulder before his smile seemed to soften.

"Ah, my love. Have they made you curious enough to leave the shadows? That is rare, rare indeed, my sweet Inanis."

A rumbling came from somewhere behind him, and though Father hardly growled to get his point across, Ghost would recognize it anywhere. He looked nervously over his shoulder, and if anything, Father's caution and weariness only grew as this named Inanis approached. Saddling up right next to Nihil, the she-cat pressed into his side like any lover would, the tom immediately going about nuzzling into the side of her neck and inhaling sweetly.

Purple eyes remained on him, and though Inanis wasn't that much bigger than a young Ghost, the tom felt infinitely smaller. Like a speck of dust in the wind, a drop of blood from an open wound. Just one of many.

Inconsequential.

Unimportant.

Nothing.

"Which apparition has caught your attention?" Nihil murmured into her skin, turning partially to glance blind eyes over him yet again. His grin grew mischievous then. "Which one have you predicted would resurrect from the dead? Your predictions are never wrong, after all, my sweet augur."

"We will be taking our leave now," Father stepped forward then, and though Ghost was always intimidated by him, he was forever grateful to have him at his side at his moment of feeling so exposed. Pale amber eyes glanced down at him and Ghost wanted to apologize for everything (even existing). "Get behind me, little ghost."

"Why so soon? Has Inanis scared you?" Nihil's words could count as a taunt, but they never came out that way. More of a genuine question than anything else. He leaned away to move his eyes to his lover's face. "The nerve of nothing, scared of the void. Has he offended you, love?"

The she-cat didn't respond vocally, eyes still trained on Ghost, but something must have passed in her body language to make Nihil bark in laughter.

"You are too kind. Far kinder than I," the dusky black tom turned another grin in their direction, "Don't you wish to meet our newest additions? Umbra and Tenebris have yet to meet you, and little Nyx is so adorable. The night is most endearing when still so young, you just have to meet them."

"That is enough!" Father shouted, making Ghost jump to attention, stirring him out of his staring contest. He blinked a few times to reorientate himself before cautiously moving back, feeling infinitely safer (and infinitely smaller) at Father's side. Those behind Nihil and Inanis scattered, backing away into the solace of shadows once more but remaining like gleaming stars of many different colors.

Nihil frowned and Inanis finally tore her gaze away from Ghost, shifting to Father and there was a flicker of displeasure across her face. So open and obvious, Ghost had never before seen someone who outwardly showed they didn't like Father.

Yet, Father did nothing to harm the pair. His stance, familiar from how many times Ghost had seen it, radiated danger and threat- and both seemed to fly right over the pair's heads.

"We will be leaving. Now." Father slowly raised his head, standing from his deadly crouch, ears flat against his head. "May we never cross paths again, Nihil."

"Ah, Zero. You sadden me. Have you learned nothing?" His grin returned, definitely taunting this time. "You can never escape from us. We will always cross each other's paths, life after life after life." Blind, grey eyes turned to Ghost then and Inanis turned her head to brush against Nihil's cheek.

He paused a moment before speaking;

"I never knew shadows could be white. The reborn amongst the dead. How fascinating you are. The victor. The hero. The recovered. How nice, how nice indeed."

And with that, with no precedence whatsoever, Nihil stood up, waited for Inanis to do the same, and the duo turned and began making their way back to the shadows and many gleaming eyes.

The eyes didn't move away either, just… stared. Ghost didn't even know if all of them had blinked in recent time. He remained in place, staring at the back of the heads of Inanis and Nihil, the tom's words rolling around in his head, confused. The victor? The hero? The recovered?

What did that mean?

"Little ghost," the tom jumped in place, nerves on-edge as ever, and shifted around to face Father. His pelt prickled with the sensation of those eyes on his back now, and he felt entirely too unguarded, but he didn't know whether staring at Father was going to make it better.

Pale amber eyes stared down at him, brows furrowed, holding a gleam of interest that hadn't been there before. Ghost tried his best not to cower beneath such an intense gaze, but it was all he could do not to just lie on the ground and curl into a ball then and there.

"Father?" Phantom's voice behind the leader came out hesitant, nervous, and Ghost wanted to see the look on his brother's face. Phantom always put on a brave expression no matter what daunting task was put before them- did he finally break? Did this ominous district full of apparently cursed cats make him scared?

If it did, Ghost reveled in it, even if he didn't know why.

"We leave now," Father said in a clear voice, looking over the eyes in the shadows before turning partially around to not turn his back to them completely, glancing over his array of 'kits'. All of them were cowering in some form or another, whether it be pressing themselves close to the ground or avoiding eye contact or flattening their ears. "Let's go!"

Shard, at the very back, called out for them to follow before he shifted on his heel, quickly leading the way back. It took a few moments before the others began to follow, shaking out of their reverie and practically running after the heir. Ghost hesitated, limbs moving stiffly as if they weighed more than they did, and he didn't know if it was better or worse when he was finally one with the crowd with Father at his back, protecting him.

Strangely enough, he thought he could still feel the eyes of Inanis still on him, sickly purple and the color of poison.

The victor.

The hero.

The reborn.

Ghost didn't know if any of those words applied to him, but they bounced around in his head long enough for him to convince himself he was going crazy. All the way back to the safety of his den, he was lost in thought, his siblings trying to get him to talk but ultimately giving up.

He could still feel the sickly purple eyes on him, unblinking and always there.

Whiteshadow could safely say that he was a brave tom, at least a little.

Everyday things that seemed terrifying for his clanmates didn't shake him whatsoever, and even facing a fox didn't seem so frightening. After all, Father had been scarier than most things he ever came across.

But at this moment, fear roiled inside of his chest, nausea making his stomach clench, his heart pumping into overdrive as he struggled to control his breathing in the face of what felt like certain death.

He didn't know death came in the form of jade green eyes on a tortoiseshell's face.

Yet, here it was.

He had seen Umbra only once before leaving the City so long ago, when Father had ordered them to capture and bring members of that horrid family to the Sewers so they could rot and die naturally, and back then, the slimy shadow had slipped from his grasp. He honestly hadn't expected them to still be alive.

"Did you enjoy my song, little ghost?" Umbra tilted their head, nerve-racking grin making it that much harder to breathe and Whiteshadow honestly had no idea how he managed to refrain himself from running then and there. "I made it just for you."

"Yes, it was…" he grimaced, "pleasant. You have my thanks."

"If that isn't the highest honor," Umbra murmured sweetly before giggling, skipping a few steps forward from the shadows of the rocks and toward his direction. Immediately, Whiteshadow- and Rainpaw at his side- dropped into battle stances. Umbra seemed unbothered by such obvious hostility. "Now, brother dearest wants a word with you. I was sent on a hunt- a hunt that will go unfinished because, by the grace of his heart, Phantom has ordered me not to kill you."

Umbra stopped a few feet away, abrupt and causing the snow to shift as if trying to avoid them too. Nothing in their stance immediately screamed danger. They weren't even crouched or prepared for a fight- because Whiteshadow knew that was what this was going to come down to. They took in a deep breath.

"Such a spoilsport he is. Though, he does allow me to feast every now and then, so- you win some you lose some."

"Phantom sent you?" Whiteshadow questioned, immediately feeling ridiculous for being so surprised by that. A bitter chuckle escaped his lips as he gave his head a slight shake. "Of course he did. Why do I even bother?"

"He misses you, little ghost."

"He wants to kill me, you mean."

"That too," Umbra grinned with their teeth on full display. Whiteshadow huffed out a breath, mind scrambling for something, anything that could get them to turn away and forget Phantom's orders, but he was tired from travel and out of practice with bargaining the insane.

Rainpaw, at his side, twitched in place, the muscles along her shoulders jumping and claws flexing against the particles of snow beneath her. Whiteshadow didn't know if she was trying to restrain herself or if she was growing antsy from the rising tension. If she was growing excited by it.

(It broke his heart knowing the monster had won, and the one traveling with him now was not the same Rainpaw that had joined him on this journey to begin with.

He wished he could help. Planned to help and attempt to talk to her tonight, but it seemed as though even the world itself didn't want him giving her aid.)

"I don't wish to fight you," Whiteshadow attempted the peaceful route first, ears flat against his head as he slowly raised himself out of his stance. "You and I have no quarrel, Phantom just made one up. You don't have to do this for him, you know? You can leave, just as I did, Umbra. Find a new place, have a fresh beginning. You don't have to go around following his orders, hunting the ones he is too scared to hunt on his own."

Against everything in his body telling him not to, Whiteshadow took a cautious step forward, then another one, compassion bleeding through his gaze as he mentally begged them to listen. The grin on Umbra's face had disappeared, a blank expression on their face now, curious and listening. At least, it seemed like they were listening.

Whiteshadow honestly could not read someone like Umbra.

It unnerved him.

"Oh, Ghost." Umbra closed their eyes for a moment, lips pulling in a small grin that was alarmingly normal compared to the terrifying ones they always had. Jade green eyes opened again to look at him, a speck of sorrow and a forlornness in them he had never seen before. "You were doing so good just now. Moving words and all, you've got quite the silver tongue on you. But you've made a mistake, you see..."

A chill crossed over him, and from his years of training under Father and being on the run and betraying him- finding a place in the clans he had been sent to destroy, Whiteshadow always trusted when his instincts told him something. And right now…

Right now, his instincts were screaming at him to run.

Danger approaches.

The gleam in their eyes shifted yet again into something alarming, grin curling and face lighting up with excitement.

"You said my name!" Umbra cackled in delight.

Whiteshadow cursed to himself for forgetting one of Father's rules. Especially one that seemed to only be there to keep him alive.

"Unlike you, Ghost," Umbra crouched then and Whiteshadow stumbled back a few steps as quickly as he could, "I don't mind killing! I don't want to leave!"

Umbra leaped then, and all of Whiteshadow's seasons of training flew away from him and the world fell into slow-motion. He could see it now, a reaper descending upon him, paralyzing him and prepared to take his soul. This was it.

This was where he died.

A blur of blue streamed past the corner of his eye, a flash of color in his world of white and black, and time seemed to fall back to its usual rhythm, leaving him winded with the sudden speed. His savior was an angel who had fallen from grace, becoming one with the damned she had joined and unafraid of the abyss because it was home instead of death.

Rainpaw collided with Umbra, neither one of them giving way before they fell to the ground, Rainpaw twisting in a way for her to land on top. A growl rippled through the air and that was enough for Whiteshadow to shake himself out of his stupor, focusing on a fight because he could not afford to be distracted here.

Rainpaw had landed on top of Umbra, but she did not stay there long. He knew Umbra was a dirty fighter, exploiting even the smallest of weaknesses and aiming for the vulnerable spots, and the scar along the Stormclan apprentice's chest ripped open from their claws. A cry warped with pain and anger escaped her lips, Rainpaw stumbling back despite how much it looked like she wanted to stay there and tear into the tortoiseshell.

Umbra's laughter tinkled through the air, replacing what should have been growls and snarls of effort. In a way, it was even more chilling to hear.

"Wait your turn, wait your turn, I'll get to you after!" Umbra called, getting to their paws hastily and throwing a wave of snow in Rainpaw's direction. The she-cat hissed, more in annoyance than anything else, at the white divide between them.

Whiteshadow reached them at the moment Umbra turned their attention to him, jade green eyes sparkling with delight at seeing him coming and it was almost enough to make him skid to a stop. He didn't. He kept running, claws sliding out and heart drumming a war song.

He dove toward them then, claws outstretched, ready to grapple and pin them by the throat if he had to. But just like before and a lifetime ago, Umbra slipped away before he could get a grip on them, sliding backward against the surface of the snow like they were surfing across a lake. Whiteshadow's muscles screamed at his sudden stop, momentum wanting to send him forward, but with all his might he pushed backward- and though the ground was certainly not steady enough for him to do it flawlessly, it was enough to get him out of Umbra's next line of attack.

Whiteshadow had fought many battles before. He had won most of them, because during his time in the City, unless it was training- and even then it was a possibility- every fight was a life-or-death one. If you didn't win, you died. It was simple and straightforward and before joining the clans and meeting Leafstar, he didn't know not killing was an option for him. Mandatory in the clans, even, a code to follow: do not kill unless absolutely needed.

He hadn't understood it when she told him. Then again, he didn't really understand any of the rules at that time (still didn't, truly). Why pick a fight with someone, why make them bleed if you don't intend on killing them?

He knew the signs of a life-or-death battle. It wasn't a grand display of skill to see who was the strongest and who would come out on top. Unlike what many thought, it was quick, and not a drawn-out grand thing the stories made it out to be. It was often over in a few quick exchanges, even.

And it never truly came down to skill- sure, skill did help you, but in the end, even the most skilled could fall.

No, what it came down to was luck.

Luck- whether or not he would be able to dodge this next hit as claws flew toward his throat, whether or not he could safely predict where Umbra intended to bite (his face, they had just been aiming for his face. Most likely his eye).

In a clash of equally skilled combatants, it only ever came down to luck.

And though Whiteshadow never truly counted himself as a lucky individual, the fact that he was still alive after so many life-or-death battles said otherwise.

Umbra lashed at him, relentless, and Whiteshadow was waiting for the moment he could strike in return. Sure, he had many opportunities to claw at their body, shoulders, face, but he didn't want to aim for those. No, the faster this was over, the better, and he only had his eyes trained on their throat.

The passing words of Father's scolding tone, telling them to never kill any member of this family, filtered through his mind. It was annoying, how Father's voice was louder in his ears now, ghost hovering over his shoulder after so long of being able to push it away.

It was annoying.

And distracting.

Pain blossomed across his temple, the feeling of skin ripping open making his stomach heave and he almost thought he would throw-up in the middle of the fight (wouldn't that be something? A fun new tactic, just vomit on the enemy). Instinctively, he pulled away from those curved claws, regretting it immediately as the gash opened even more across his forehead, but at least then, he was out of reach still.

Blood dripped into his eyes and he tried his best to blink it away because this was a fight and Umbra would not stop just because he was bleeding. No, it only excited them more.

But while Umbra was a demon in their own right, a reaper coming for his soul, Whiteshadow had damn near forgotten about the other monster close by.

In the second it took for Umbra to register the blood, for Whiteshadow to scramble back and create a breath of distance between the two, they were suddenly being tackled aside by that same blue blur from before. Whiteshadow closed one of his eyes where the blood kept coming, annoyingly shaking his head to clean it off and re-focus, but he could still see it happening.

Rainpaw was a sight to behold, completely unhinged and free from her self-placed chains. Unlike Umbra, only aiming for weak points and going directly for the kill, Rainpaw just attacked anywhere and everywhere she could get her claws on. Just so she could make them bleed, so she could stain the world and herself with the red of someone's life.

She had found a part of the snow that was deceivingly steady, Umbra sinking partway into it and rendering them immobile while Rainpaw kept them there, pinned with a heavy weight on top and slashing with reckless abandon. Whiteshadow panted for breath, not realizing just how winded he had become (mostly because he had held his breath nervously, a dangerous thing to do, but his nerves were getting the better of him no matter how much he tried to push them away).

Throughout it all, Umbra kept laughing. Even as blood flew in wide arcs every time Rainpaw reeled back to slice again, their laughter tinkled in the air with the roaring of the wind and the Stormclan apprentice's snarls. Whiteshadow felt a pain in his chest, watching it happened, and he rushed forward in what felt like panic.

Do not kill them.

Rainpaw can't kill them.

"Rain-" Her name was halfway out of his mouth before she suddenly screeched in pain, stumbling back enough for Umbra to push her farther away and pull themself out of the snow. Cuts and gashes littered their front, their face and neck and shoulders, but they seemed unbothered by it. He raced to join his companion's side, pulling her back a bit and hissing through his teeth when she turned to him violently, claws flying and managing to nick him in the shoulder before he could properly react and dodge.

Turned toward him already, Whiteshadow could see what had caused her to back away from her assault in the first place. Umbra exploited weak spots, scars of age past and limps, and the scar that Aqua had left behind over the she-cat's right eye was now open once more. But it was deeper, alarmingly so; where Aqua had aimed only to make her angry, Umbra aimed to hurt.

And hurt they did, Rainpaw kept her eye closed, head tilting toward her chest as if to protect herself, a deep scowl to her lips and fangs bared.

Whiteshadow felt his heart seize with panic. He had to get them out of here. With an injury like that, and with his little experience with healing, the Stormclan apprentice could lose her vision there.

He was just about to step in her direction, to shield her with his body, or turn away and unload on Umbra and end this quickly- he hadn't decided yet- when a horrible, horrible burning pain at the tip of his tail erupted. Agony shot up, a jolt of lightning through his spine that set his teeth on edge, and he tore himself away, stumbling back and whipping away, claws flying with no real direction to try and make whatever it was that was hurting him back off.

He was absentmindedly aware of hearing something snap, and the pain was gone within moments and he didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. His back curled as he hissed, peeking through the blood coming down his face and watching Umbra approach him still.

Their movements were getting slower, courtesy of the blood loss no doubt, and Whiteshadow would have rejoiced in that fact if he didn't feel equally as exhausted. This fight had gone for too long already, it felt like. (It was probably only a handful of minutes at most.)

Umbra kept coming and Whiteshadow almost felt like just sitting there and accepting death. He was just tired.

So tired.

He was tired of fighting. Of killing and avoiding being killed himself. The need to stay alive won out so many times in the end, no matter how many battles he initially went into with the mindset of letting himself lose. Survival instincts were annoying. They didn't care about his exhaustion or his pain.

For half a delusional second, his next sharp inhale came with the sweet scent of apples and the comforting aroma of the earth. It almost made him turn his attention away from Umbra entirely, almost made him want to look around for Leafstar because she was his savior. She was the reason he kept living, kept fighting.

I cannot leave without saying goodbye.

His vision sharpened, mind focusing and heart light, and he dodged another series of strikes aimed for his eyes and his throat flawlessly, rejuvenated. Leafstar was expecting him to come home. He wanted to be with her, if only for one last time.

When Umbra lunged at him, he dodged out of the way, the tortoiseshell crashing into the stones that had been behind him. The stones that he intended to shelter in for the night, the stones that had been hiding them in the shadows.

Yeah, they definitely weren't going to rest here anymore.

Whiteshadow was just about to turn to them, to use the boulders to his advantage somehow, he'd find a way, before Rainpaw came running up. It was surprising how quickly she moved, injured and bleeding as she was, across the snow. (It was frozen water after all, and Stormclan excelled in water battles.)

She didn't slow her momentum at all, all of that force and speed barreling straight into Umbra's side. Between the apprentice and the boulder, Umbra was slammed into the rocks with no place to go; Whiteshadow winced hearing the breath force its way out of them, watching their head loll a bit, stunned, before they collapsed to the ground. Winded, Umbra struggled to stand, the grin remaining on their face and they would most definitely be laughing still if they could. They wheezed a bit instead, but the effort was there.

Rainpaw stood over them for a moment, the frenzy from before fading for a second into a contemplative expression before her face twisted into something terrifying in its own right. With a single-minded focus, the Stormclan apprentice set her paws near Umbra's head and shoulders, balancing by some form of miracle, and though Whiteshadow could see what she was about to do, he was most definitely not prepared for Rainpaw to start slamming the hunter's head against the rocks.

Umbra let out a sound of pain then, and Whiteshadow was shocked for a moment before he forced himself to move.

"Rainpaw- Rainpaw, enough! Stop!"

To his overwhelming surprise, she actually did stop. She stopped, but she didn't step away, turning her gaze toward him. Her right eye was still closed, the left sparking with fury and vengeance and hunger. She waited expectantly, the subtle tilt of her head saying, "Well? Give me a reason why I have to stop."

Whiteshadow waited a heavy moment, breath caught in his throat, eyes flicking down to Umbra. They were still awake, partially at least, vision dazed and no doubt blurry, but the smile on their face remained. They kept wheezing for air, lips moving with silent words he couldn't hear.

He didn't know why he felt compassion for someone like them. He knew that, should he leave them alive now, they would just keep coming for him. Nothing short of death would stop them. He certainly didn't want to bring them back to the clan, but… But…

He didn't know.

"There's a curse," he spoke his words slowly, carefully, eyes squinting a little. He didn't know if he completely agreed with Father and his paranoia, but it was better to be safe than sorry, right? "On them and their family. A curse of insanity that attacks their minds. Makes them unstable, as you saw… If… If you kill one of them, the curse passes on to you…"

He finished lamely, ears falling flat as a spark of embarrassment flashed through his body, but he remained stern and steady, refusing to break eye-contact. He wondered if she could see his plea in his eyes.

He wondered if she cared.

Rainpaw continued looking at him, not put off by his words by any means in any way. Just listening. Digesting.

Contemplating.

Deciding.

Her lips curled in a scowl, a single fang prominent before she spoke and his hopes were demolished then and there. (Killed by the monster.)

"Why do I care about a curse?" She inhaled deeply, teeth gnashing together. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm already broken, Whiteshadow. Nothing can hurt me now, and certainly not a curse." A bitter laugh escaped her lips before she added, "I'm already cursed anyway, right?"

He wanted to deny her words. He should have denied her words. Sure, Rainpaw may have been lost to the bloodlust in her mind, but that didn't mean she was gone for good. It didn't mean she was cursed in the way Umbra was. She could still be found. She could still be saved.

(Then again, did she want to be saved?)

Whiteshadow only stared at her, hoping that his heartbroken look would be enough to make her stop, to reconsider. He seemed to have some sort of pull over the monster- she had yet to try and kill him, right? If he could just find that flickering light and coax it back to life, she would pull away now and they could leave. Run far enough away and deal with Umbra another time in the safety of their home surrounded by their clan.

She looked away from him, scoffing, and hesitated only for a moment before repositioning her grip on Umbra and pulling them away, prepared to slam into the rock again. Whiteshadow could not stomach watching her fall more apart, could not handle the sight of Umbra- or anyone for that matter- killed in such a way.

In a way, he was a coward- because he turned away from them.

Head jerking to the side, he squeezed his eyes shut and fought back the surge of bile rising in his throat, hearing it happen. Whiteshadow wished for the scent of apples and earth once more, and though it didn't come to comfort him, the mere idea of Leafstar was enough to keep him from going crazy.

Just like a life-or-death battle, the killing was over quickly.

He heard the sound of a body, limp and lifeless, hitting the snow-covered ground, and perhaps it was morbid curiosity that made him look. His jaw clenched achingly, adamantly refusing to gaze down at Umbra's form, and he kept his light blue gaze on the back of the Stormclan apprentice's head. Rainpaw was crouched over Umbra, shoulders hunched and teeth bared as if taunting them to get back up again so she could do it all over.

Rainpaw was gone.

Whiteshadow didn't know who had taken her place, but he knew they were dangerous. Unpredictable.

He approached her with the caution of a wild animal, limping and hurting and bleeding still, but he made his presence known as to not startle her. Hesitantly, once he was close enough, he placed a paw against her stiffened shoulder, feeling her tense even more and for half a second, he thought she would turn and lunge at him next.

She didn't meet his eyes.

He didn't think he could meet hers either.

What a mess we are.

I'm sorry for bringing you. This wouldn't have happened if you had just stayed at your home to heal.

I'm so sorry.

He mourned the death of Rainpaw.

The Stormclan apprentice tore herself from his grip with a grunt, stepping away, staggering a bit, and she was visibly shivering as she drew in a deep breath. Her right eye had yet to open, still bleeding, and the gash down her chest darkened the fur there. He knew he didn't look much better, distractedly glancing down to his tail and noting the way the tip was bent.

What a mess.

When Rainpaw suddenly began walking away, Whiteshadow took a step in her direction before stopping, turning sad eyes down to Umbra's form and glancing forlornly at the stones that could have been their shelter. He doubted they would get any rest for the night.

She was moving in the direction they had been heading to, where a littering of trees in the far distance sat and a valley of snow and wild winds rested between it and them. The winds had calmed a bit, surprisingly so, and he wondered if the world was finally going to give them a moment's rest from more hardships. At least, for now.

"Where are you going?" Whiteshadow finally found his voice, hoarse as it was.

Rainpaw ignored him, continuing to stumble along, and the tom let out a heavy sigh before following suit. It would do neither of them any good to be alone- and though a sick part of him almost wanted to just let her leave, wanted to not care what happened to her, the fact of the matter was, he did care for her.

The him from before would call this care inconvenient.

The him of now didn't know what to call it. Motivation- that was possibly the closest word.

She walked slow enough from her injuries for him to catch up, though he remained a step behind her, letting her lead because he honestly didn't want to try and stop her (nor did he want her at his back). He wanted eyes on her all the time and that made him even sadder- the fact that even his subconscious couldn't trust her.

He was close enough to hear her muttering beneath her breath.

"Twist, Amber, Oak, Marsh, Venom, Dapple," there was a haunted tone in her voice, even while a part of it sounded so prideful, and it dawned on him that she was listing names. "Quill, Sky, Smoke, Bristle, Flint, Blink, Leo, Sun, Sora."

She paused for a moment, taking in a sharp inhale, before murmuring;

"Umbra."

The ones she has killed.

His heart ached for her. He didn't know how to help her now, and anything he tried to do either went over her head, ineffective, or just made things so, so much worse.

Name the one cat you care for most…

Taking a chance, Whiteshadow took in a slow breath, still hearing her mutter, before breathing a name into the open air.

"Windpaw."

It was both frightening and amusing just how quickly she stopped moving. She didn't turn toward him and he made no move to walk into her line of sight either. The world held its breath, ghosts and names lingering in the air, nosy. Rainpaw stared into the distance before tilting her head toward the sky, releasing a rolling sigh and a quiet laugh.

"She must hate me now," Rainpaw whispered like a secret to the world. "I broke my promise."

And before she started walking again, she added, "I'm not coming back to her. Instead, she gets whatever this is now."

And she continued and Whiteshadow just about felt his heart break for her. Perhaps it already was, and he had only tried and failed to convince himself that he was unbroken. He had been so far beyond broken this entire time that it was his permanent state of being.

The duo of Stormclan apprentice and Blazeclan warrior continued their journey home, lost and alone and broken.

Should they even find their way home, Whiteshadow doubted that they would be coming home at all.

It wouldn't be them.

He didn't know who they were now.

And it scared him.

Blazeclan

Four days since the burial- five since their deaths- and Flarepaw was aware of just how confusing time felt.

On one hand, the days felt incredibly short. Between last-ditch patrols searching for Ignis and his runaways, her own training that would not stop for a Commoners' death, and finding moments of nonexistent spare time to learn more about the life of a Low Rank with Sagepaw at her side- there were not enough hours for everything. Especially with trying to get the Commoners to trust her.

Not even trust her, she was aware it would take a lot more than a few days and a few good deeds for them to trust her, Flarepaw would be content with them getting used to her presence. Like her, even. They didn't have to think of her as a close friend or whatever, but at the very least, Flarepaw wanted them to not view her as the enemy.

It was working, slowly but surely. It certainly helped that Feathersong so willingly accepted her, and Flarepaw greatly enjoyed the Queen's presence as well. There was just something about her calm and peaceful demeanor that soothed her frayed nerves. She hoped that her presence was having the same effect on the Queen.

The warriors were less willing to get to know her. Especially Ravenflight, who was so adamant in her distrust of her. The others at least made the effort, and she seemed to be making great strides with Owlpelt.

Time felt short, but at the same time, it felt like it was dragging on and on and on. The tension in the air certainly didn't help matters, everybody on-edge with the bitter sting of failure as they refused to accept that Ignis and the others were long gone by now.

Her presence around the Low Ranks had not gone unnoticed by the Royals either- and she didn't know whether it was a good or a bad thing that a lot of them seemed to think she was only doing it out of compassion. That she cared for her clan as a whole, a great marking for a Grand Royal, checking in on the lower beings and gracing them with her presence.

She longed to see the confusion on their faces when a considerable amount of time had passed and she was still hanging around the Low Ranks.

"You didn't have to do this, Flarepaw," Feathersong murmured in that calm voice of hers, a little tired and exasperated even, and Flarepaw let out a quiet huff of laughter as she continued her work of re-creating the Queen's nest. The leftover moss from her own nest had been left with nowhere to go, and the apprentice happily ripped more pieces off to make it big enough for Feathersong.

"Though I have not seen a kitting before, I've heard that it is very uncomfortable. At the very least, you should have a cozy nest to do it in, and forgive me but your previous one of dried grass and leaves felt like stepping on rocks."

"I'd say you're even worse than the Medicine Cats, doting on me like this," a little pleasant smile appeared on the Queen's lips, teasing, "I'm feeling spoiled."

"It's the least I can do," Flarepaw shrugged bashfully, "My nest is much too big for me as it is. Here, try it out."

The Grand Royal apprentice stepped aside to make room for the soon-to-be mother, sitting just outside of the freshly made nest and feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over her. Feathersong huffed with a shake of her head but acquiesced anyway, stepping in and doing a small spin before making a show of sitting down, humming to herself.

"Well?" Flarepaw asked, a tinge of nervousness in her voice and she honestly didn't know why.

"It's perfect, thank you." Feathersong caught her by surprise as she leaned over, swiping her tongue over the curve of Flarepaw's shoulder and smiling at her before settling down, tail settling protectively over her belly.

She had forgotten what the gentle touch of a mother felt like. And though it was nothing like Willowflame, nobody could replace Willowflame, the touch was healing a wound she didn't even know existed.

"Between you and Sootpaw indulging me like this, I feel like the most pampered Queen in all of the clans." Feathersong purred, glancing up at her, and Flarepaw forced herself to smile back.

Sootpaw…

He had been released from the Prisoner's Den the day before, and though many of the High Ranks- nay, all of the High Ranks- complained about it, calling for his execution instead, Redstar would not sway.

It was nothing more but a reckless act in a moment of high emotions, everyone got them, and the Grand Royal was willing to let this one go, much to everyone's surprise.

Flarepaw had allowed herself to be held by Sagepaw as she cried tears of relief, comforted by the thought that Sootpaw would not be taken away from her like that with her being unable to do anything.

Upon his release, the very first thing Sootpaw did was go to the Nursery and just… hold Feathersong. Flarepaw had been in there at that moment, and the sight of him nearly made her jump out of her skin. Conflicting emotions warred in her chest, and she could do nothing but excuse herself and leave the den before she said or did something stupid.

He hadn't looked at her then, his focus only on Feathersong.

They had yet to speak either, though Flarepaw saw him many times now that she visited the other Commoners. That way, Feathersong was never truly alone. If she wasn't with her, then Sootpaw was, the two quickly falling into a wordless routine where they both knew what hours they would spend with the Queen.

"Do you…" She cleared her throat and glanced away, ears falling flat for a moment, "Do you know where he's at?"

She missed him dearly. She wanted nothing more than to hold him, to let him fall apart like he should have been doing. Every time Flarepaw looked at him, she could convince herself that there were cracks and chipping all across his face, but he held strong. She didn't know if he cried yet over them, if he had allowed himself to.

Feathersong studied the side of her face for a moment before speaking, "I'd imagine he's off preparing himself for his assessment later today."

Flarepaw closed her eyes as if in pain. Right. She had heard it in passing from the mouth of one of the Royals, the Low Ranks' warrior assessments. The Artisans and the Commoners would get together a little past Sunhigh and the lead Royal would watch over them.

She wondered if Wildfire would keep Sootpaw an apprentice, just to spite him.

She had yet to speak with her father either, avoiding him whenever he seemed to be heading her direction and keeping herself busy and just out of his reach. No doubt he had wormed his way to Sootpaw's attention, and she worried about what he could have said to her love.

Worried if it was Wildfire's words that made Sootpaw look so tired with everything.

"Right," Flarepaw murmured, letting out a slow sigh and shaking herself before a melancholic stupor could suffocate her. She had to stay focused and keep moving. Time kept going, the world kept spinning, and she would not get left behind. Not again. "Right, I almost forgot."

"It's not like you to forget," Feathersong hummed, absentmindedly beginning to lick at her paws with lazy contentment. Even still, her tone was nowhere near accusatory. "Your memory is rather scary sometimes."

"I forget things all the time," Flarepaw chuckled.

"Not when it comes to things you deem important," dark blue eyes turned to her then and Flarepaw foolishly glanced over to meet them, trapped in the soothing sea. "And though you have been learning about us and our rank, Flarepaw, the same could be said for me. I've watched, I've listened. I've learned."

"And what have you learned, Feathersong?" It was almost said in a challenging tone, but her voice quivered and Flarepaw felt the fur along her spine bristling uncomfortably.

"You have a heart of gold that has been hurt one too many times," the Queen said with a smile, the same sad thing from before. "Yet, it has not stopped you from continuing to care for others. It's inspiring."

"And worrying," Flarepaw smiled a bit bitterly, "You'd think I'd learn eventually."

"You have learned, and yet you continue to care regardless," Feathersong huffed out a quiet laugh, sending another smile in her direction before shifting down deeper into the nest. "If you don't mind, I think I would like to take a nap."

"Of course," Flarepaw immediately stood up, hesitating for a moment before walking around the nest and toward the entrance of the den. "Sweet dreams, Feathersong."

"See you later, Flarepaw."

The Grand Royal apprentice took in a deep breath, preparing herself, before stepping outside into the morning light. She blinked against it for a moment, squinting, before her sight adjusted and she glanced around. Tension still swam in the air like a noxious cloud, but like most things, the High Ranks were learning to forget about it. They were still bitter about losing, as was Flarepaw, but there was nothing to be done now without Ignis close by.

It felt a lot like giving up, so Flarepaw kept herself moving.

Sunhigh was fast approaching and she wanted to check-in with Adderpaw before his assessment. Sootpaw, too, if he'd let her. (She doubted he would, but it never hurt to try.)

Snatching a squirrel from the pile, Flarepaw made her way to the den of the Commoner Apprentices. Though she had so blatantly been fluttering around the Commoners, that's not to say it was easy pushing aside her instinctive caution. It always felt like she was doing something wrong, and she didn't know just how long it was going to take for her to tell herself she wasn't and believe it.

A few wandering eyes glanced over to her curiously and to where she was going, heads immediately turning to each other to whisper and gossip, and Flarepaw could hardly contain the desire to roll her eyes. Even with something as traumatic as a rogue attack, of two of their clanmates dying, everyone was still the same. In some ways, perhaps that was for the best.

The world kept spinning and you had to keep up with it in any way you can. Maybe gossiping was how the High Ranks felt normal in an abnormal time.

Reaching her destination, Flarepaw paused for a moment, cautious, before taking in a deep breath and stepping inside the ramshackled den. (She made a mental note to get some help from others to start repairs on the dens. Slowly but surely increasing the quality of their horrible lives into hopefully something less horrible, more tolerable.)

Adderpaw was in the same spot he always was, curled into his den and turned away from the entrance, his eyes on the nest at his side. Flarepaw had learned very quickly that it had been Mousepaw's, and her heart ached for him and his grief. She damn near broke just hearing the clan calling for Sootpaw's execution, she did not want to know what it would be like if she lost him for good.

"Hey, Flarepaw."

His voice was quiet as usual, croaky and she cursed herself for not bringing moss filled with water for him. She would have to do it after.

"How'd you know it was me?" She asked, if only to keep him talking and not completely silent. Talking was progress.

He shifted slightly but didn't turn around. "You smell like roses. It's nice and very hard to miss."

"I will take that as a compliment, I suppose," Flarepaw wandered over toward him, pausing just off to the side and placing the squirrel by his head. He stirred then, lifting his head to her and blinking the daze from his eyes. He glanced down at the squirrel before letting out a heavy, taxing sigh and pushing himself up to his paws.

They, too, had quickly fallen into a routine. Flarepaw would not leave until Adderpaw ate whatever she had brought him. Sometimes she would talk, but most of the time, she would just look at him and it seemed to be enough for him to listen.

"Where's Sootpaw?" Flarepaw asked cautiously, and she felt the slightest bit of guilt for being relieved that he wasn't there at the moment. It meant the silence wouldn't be so suffocating, meant she wouldn't have to replay the harsh words he had said to her in his grief.

Adderpaw chewed slowly, eyes glancing off to the side of the nest before he shook himself and looked over at her.

"Honestly? I don't know," the tom shrugged nonchalantly and that worried her. "I think he went hunting, but I don't remember the last time he actually went hunting willingly. Probably walking around, helps to clear his mind. Maybe annoying a High Rank as usual cause he never learns."

Flarepaw bit her tongue to keep herself from retorting with something sharp.

"Feathersong said he might be preparing for your assessments."

"Oh…" Adderpaw murmured, his gaze going distant for a moment. "I forgot that was today."

"Adderpaw…"

"You know, half of me doesn't really wanna go," he stopped eating now, just staring at the half-eaten squirrel with a frown. "It'll just be us embarrassing ourselves in front of the lead Royal and anybody else who's gonna be there. I'd rather just… stay here."

"...Well," Flarepaw muttered, mind racing for the right words and not coming up with any that felt right. "I certainly can't force you to go-"

"You can," Adderpaw chuckled, bitterness in his eyes as he looked at her, "You're more than capable of forcing me."

"I wouldn't," Flarepaw frowned then, ears falling a little flat as she shuffled her paws. Though she had made considerable strides with the Commoner apprentice, he was no Feathersong- accepting her completely.

In some ways, she wondered if he blamed her for Mousepaw's death.

(She certainly blamed herself.)

"Will it be the worst thing in the world?" Adderpaw continued after a heavy moment of tense silence, glancing off to the side to the other, empty nest. "I mean, what's the point anymore without them?"

Not just Mousepaw.

It hurt knowing, realizing, just how much the apprentices lost in such a short amount of time. Three of their friends, just… gone. Two from the Rising Rank trials, one from being refused healing. All from the machinations of High Ranks, all from the unfairness of the world they were forced to be a part of.

"You move forward for them," Flarepaw spoke after a moment of careful consideration, "I can't speak for you and what you're feeling, but I know loss, too, Adderpaw. I strive to be someone they can be proud of. I don't know if I'm succeeding, but I'm trying anyway. It's not easy. Even as time goes on, it'll never get easy."

"Then what's the point?" He looked back at her, eyes fierce and watery and desperate. "Why even try?"

"I suppose… there's isn't a point to it," Flarepaw chuckled sadly. "Perhaps these aren't the words you need to hear, but they are the ones that I feel. You live because you live. You keep going because you do. You try because there's nothing else you can do but try. Maybe not for yourself, but for them. You live for them. You take your next breath for them. If they loved you, which imagine they did, would they want you to stop and suffer as you are?"

"I can't move on that quickly," Adderpaw shook his head harshly, "I can't forget that fast."

"I'm not asking you to forget," Flarepaw hoped her words were soothing, "It's impossible to do so. You live with their memory and you take that next step. But, you're right. It's only been a few days. And though I wish I can tell you to take all the time you need, the fact of the matter is, the world is still going. The assessment will happen with or without you and I fear what would happen to you if you didn't go to it."

"It just hurts." The large tom let out a whimper and cowered into himself, a ragged breath escaping his lips. "It hurts, I want it to stop."

"I know," Flarepaw squeezed her eyes shut, sorrow roaring in her chest. Recent events were much too close to home for her, trauma and pain wanted to tear at the healing wounds left behind by the deaths of Willowflame and Flamepaw. She wouldn't let it. Not now. Not ever again. "I know. I'm afraid to say it will never stop, but if you're lucky, you'll get used to it."

Everything she was saying felt like the wrong thing to say and she loathed to admit just how out of her comfort zone she was trying to make someone feel better. Trying to console another being from their pain.

She supposed she had plenty of time to learn.

The sound of approaching pawsteps caught her attention, standing up from her place and turning partially to face the entrance of the den. Adderpaw hardly seemed to notice her movement, too caught up in his own grief, chin tucked close to his chest and shoulders drawn in. That was fine. Flarepaw would defend him, give him the time he needed to break.

(Now, if only Sootpaw did the same.)

Relief washed over her upon seeing her brother's sage green eyes appear, the differing shades of grey on his pelt swallowed by the dim light of the den, a shadow passing over from the sunlight behind him. There was a concerned frown on his face and like so many times before, Flarepaw could only think of the worst. (Perhaps she was a pessimist.)

"Sagepaw," she greeted, relaxing her posture that had gone rigid and defensive, "Did you need something?"

His frown deepened for a moment and he seemed reluctant to speak, but perhaps duty made him finally sigh, glancing away from her so he wouldn't have to see her expression when he said, "Wildfire's looking for you. Again."

Her lip curled distastefully, "When isn't he? You'd think he'd get the hint by now."

"This is different though. At least, I think it is," Sagepaw wrinkled his nose for a moment, passing a glance over to Adderpaw and frowning in sympathy once more before addressing her, "He's calling for Gingerpaw, too. I guess this makes it an official calling now."

"Great, so now he's using his pull as temporary lead Royal to get me in the same space as him," Flarepaw rolled her eyes before taking a step in his direction, pausing for a moment and glancing over at Adderpaw with a frown. It felt wrong to just leave him now, especially with him so vulnerable. She leaned her head closer to Sagepaw. "Please stay with him until either he has to go or I return. Make sure he eats, okay?"

"Okay," Sagepaw nodded, bumping his nose against her shoulder for a moment before saying, "Be careful, Flarepaw. Nothing good ever comes from interacting with him."

"Believe me, I'm aware."

The she-cat sent one final glance to Adderpaw before stepping outside, sighing and squinting against the sunlight. Sunhigh was blazing overhead, warmer than most recent days, and for that, she was thankful. Leaf-bare would be over soon, she could feel it.

Her father was waiting for her by the entrance of camp, Gingerpaw already there and waiting patiently. Flarepaw gradually made her way over, ignoring the curious glances from her clanmates. They could say what they want. She had gone past the point of caring long ago.

"You called for me, Wildfire?" She said, mostly just to keep professionalism. It was not the act of dutiful daughter she had long since dropped, saying his name rather than calling him father was evidence of that- however small- but it felt like an act nonetheless. A show, a display that said: I can be professional. You have not broken that from me.

Despite how much she wanted to just attack him then and there, that would be petulant.

"Yes. Walk with me, you two. We have much to discuss."

He, too, kept his tone professional. She let Gingerpaw go first, her just a step behind, and took in a deep breath to prepare herself for whatever was about to transpire. Through the bramble tunnel, they went, slipping into the frosted forest of oak trees and shadows.

The cold winds greeted them, and a piece of her heart ached wishing it was Sootpaw's scent that was the source of it instead of the winter world around them. She relished in it regardless, the sluggishness of somber wisping away as she focused her attention on now.

"As you must be aware, today our Low Ranking apprentices take their warrior assessment," Wildfire began in a casual tone, leading the trail in a direction she hardly went to. "I was tasked to oversee it, but I believe it would also do you two as contending Grand Royal apprentices to witness it as well. What it's like to participate and supervise a warrior assessment since one of you will have to do that at least once in your life as a Grand Royal. Even if it's just the Low Ranks, it's good practice."

"I suppose that makes sense," Gingerpaw mumbled in that low tone of his, a gravelly thing like rolling thunder.

"You said participate," Flarepaw said instead, narrowing her eyes into the back of her father's head and hoping her glare would be enough to burn a hole through it. (It wasn't, sadly, but the effort was there.) "What do you mean by that in this case?"

"It's not required, but as the overseer of an assessment, it is within your power to… make things a little more exciting. Whether you yourself plays part in it somehow, or someone of your choosing, be creative. You have free reign," Wildfire glanced over his shoulder at her, a hint of a cruel grin to his face that she was an expert on noticing. "Today, I will ask the both of you to help me judge our Low Ranks for what they're worth during the sparring session of their test."

"You want us to fight Low Ranks?" Gingerpaw asked with a slightly raised brow, put-off a little, "Isn't that highly unfair for them? Either one of us alone greatly outmatches all of them combined. If it's one-on-one bouts, none of them will pass."

"Not fight necessarily, you do have to give them a chance," Wildfire's grin appeared then, mischievous and deceitful and it made her stomach clench in worry. "But make them work for it, at least."

"It's still rather unfair," Flarepaw grumbled, tail flicking in aggravation, and she was thankful that Gingerpaw seemed to share in that sentiment.

"Because of recent events, I know they are aware of just how unfair life can be," she hated the way he actually sounded so consoling and sad for them. Her father was a fabulous actor. "This is just one more trial for them."

Flarepaw wanted to argue more, but the three of them came to a stop in a cleared out area of the forest, the snow pressed down meticulously and stray branches and rocks pulled off to the side. The arena. She snorted quietly, amused that Wildfire put so much thought into this.

He certainly was diligent in his hate for the Low Ranks.

"Go a bit easy on them when they arrive, but not too easy. Try not to give them the win so quickly; as I said, we want to make them work for victory. Gingerpaw, for the ones that fight you, their goal is to get through your defense at least once. If they touch your chest, your back, or your head and face, that is a win," Wildfire turned dark amber eyes to her and Flarepaw sternly held her place. "Flarepaw, for those that fight you, their goal is to catch you. Whether they somehow pin you or manage to grab onto you with both paws, then they win. The two of you will hold yourselves back and you are not allowed to hit them. Understood?"

"Yes, Wildfire," Gingerpaw said and she echoed him a moment after, words coming out through gritted teeth.

"And now, we shall wait for them here. They should have at least started moments ago."

She hoped Adderpaw at least got to finish his meal before then.

The silence that descended upon the three was quick to grow awkward, Flarepaw tensed at her father's side. Perhaps noticing this, Gingerpaw casually asked her if they wanted to warm-up. To practice holding themselves back. They began growing through the motions, and at least then, Flarepaw was thankful because she didn't have to constantly focus on Wildfire.

Seconds ticked by, the two making a little game out of their warm-up with each other. Every time she met Gingerpaw's pale yellow eyes, she swore she could see the hint of a reassuring smile on his face. Flarepaw was glad to have him, their initial friendship strained and awkward but still becoming something at least somewhat pleasant.

She was his only rival left, and it made them kindred in a way. Flarepaw wondered what it would be like when one of them became the Grand Royal and the other lost. For a moment that cost her a smack to the shoulder that could've been easily avoidable, she wondered if she really wanted to become the Grand Royal.

She shook those thoughts away.

"Grand Royal Gingerpaw," Wildfire suddenly spoke up after what felt like an hour of silence, the two lazily taking swipes at each other. They stopped, Flarepaw having to jump back a bit to maintain her balance and not barrel straight into him, and turned their heads toward him. She did not like the look in his eyes as he spoke, "Why don't you go check on their progress? They should already be on their way here, make sure they don't get lost."

Gingerpaw looked confused by the request for a moment and Flarepaw wanted to laugh. Of course, he would find an excuse to be alone with her, in a situation that she was duty-bound to and couldn't walk away from. Her friend glanced at her for a moment, pale yellow eyes cautious for a flash, before he nodded and wordlessly began trotting away.

Flarepaw remained in the center of the clearing, one paw absentmindedly brushing a groove in the snow and ruining the perfect stillness of the area. All of his hard work, gone to waste.

What a shame.

"Flarepaw."

"You just couldn't resist yourself could you?" Flarepaw chuckled incredulously, turning a bitter smile in his direction. "How low can you be? To use your temporary power as a lead Royal to force me to talk to you? What's next? You're going to order a one-on-one training session, just like old times?"

"Since you've been oh so maturely avoiding me," Wildfire shrugged, "you've given me no other choice."

"So, I've backed you into a corner?" She asked with a grin, victory shooting through her at his annoyed expression, and he looked like he just barely refrained himself from snapping at her.

"Hardly. Now, out of the goodness of my heart, it's only fair of me to give you the opportunity, once more, to give in. Stop this nonsense, it's heartbreaking to watch and witness you falling deeper and deeper into a pit. Stop fighting me, stop resisting me, and listen, Flarepaw."

"After everything you've done?" Flarepaw scowled, "As if I'd ever listen to you ever again."

"I wouldn't have to do these things if you just behaved." Wildfire stood up, the subtle movement making her stiffen for a moment before turning to face him head-on, standing her ground and refusing to budge. "I've won, Flarepaw. Now stop acting like a fool and let's go back to the way things were."

"You haven't won yet," she clenched her jaw, teeth clacking together, "I'm still standing here. Fighting."

"You are, but is he?" his eyes gleamed and Flarepaw felt her body twitch. Whether with the desire to run away, cower, or lunge forward, she didn't really know herself. "I've had quite the pleasant conversation with him. Sootpaw has admitted defeat. As boring as it is to win so easily, I'll accept it."

She didn't want to believe him, knew that only pretty lies and false promises were the only things that came out of his mouth, but some part of her knew, deep down, that he was telling the truth. She had seen it in the way Sootpaw carried himself, the way he hardly addressed her presence at all, pretended as though she didn't even exist.

Sootpaw was done fighting. Done playing this morbid game.

...But she wasn't.

"He isn't me," Flarepaw said in a stern voice, unwavering and firm even as she felt like falling apart. "He doesn't speak for me, nor I, him. He may be done fighting, but I'm not."

"What do you have left to fight for?" It was Wildfire's turn to laugh incredulously, face morphed into ugly disbelief. "Who do you still fight for?"

Flarepaw met his gaze, a storm of silver clashing against the burning flames of dark amber, neither one of them giving. Smoke and shadows leached from his features, and within her, lightning crackled and thunder roared. A tempest and an inferno.

Two great and powerful disasters heading straight for a collision.

Straight for war.

"Myself," Flarepaw said and thunder bellowed in her chest, making her feel so alive. "I fight for myself."

His eyes darkened, fire raging, but he said nothing more, the muscles in his jaw going tense.

"This fight of ours isn't over until I say it's over," she took a bold step in his direction, relishing in the way a look of unease flash across his features before steeling once more. "And I haven't said it's over."

With that, she turned her gaze away from him, ears perking and the tension vanishing from her shoulders upon hearing Gingerpaw approaching. She heard him before she saw him, the tom's ginger pelt a stark contrast to the white world around them, stepping from the forest-line with heavy steps and no desire to lighten them.

"They're on the way," he said as he walked into the clearing, glancing over his shoulder, "They will be here shortly."

"Did they see you?" Flarepaw asked him, if only so Wildfire wouldn't jump at the chance to talk to her more.

"Who do you think I am?" Gingerpaw replied with a small scowl, no heat to his words and a tease in his eyes, "Of course not."

"I don't know, you're pretty loud there."

"Unlike you, I have no reason to try and hide my approach," his eyes gleamed with playfulness, a strange sight to say the least on a stoic tom's face. "It's impressive, no doubt, but I don't need the element of surprise."

"Not like you'd be able to anyway," a smile pulled at the corner of her lips, "You're pretty heavy, Gingerpaw."

"It's all muscle," he waved her off, the two of them sitting to attention when Wildfire cleared his throat, definitely not appreciating their teasing banter as much as they did. Gingerpaw murmured a quiet apology, but Flarepaw only laughed to herself.

The three sat together again, the sound of multiple pawsteps filtering through the air, cautious and unsure, but gradually, one-by-one, the Low Ranking apprentices wandered inside the clearing.

Her heart jumped upon seeing Sootpaw, his gaze focused and darkening when he saw Wildfire. He didn't look at her and she didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Adderpaw was at his side, looking so tired like he just wanted to lie down then and there. Yellowpaw, Icepaw, and Stripepaw stood by each other's sides, glancing around the clearing and looking very nervous when sighting the three of them.

"Greetings, Artisans. Commoners," Wildfire spoke up once all of them situated themselves, his gaze lingering on Sootpaw for a moment before passing by him like he was a speck of dust. Flarepaw kept her gaze on her love, trying very hard to be inconspicuous that she was staring at him.

"In case you didn't know, I was tasked to oversee the sparring session of your exam. I do hope you still have energy leftover from your hunt. How did that go?" Wildfire sure did know how to make himself appear pleasant to outsiders.

The Artisans looked to themselves, mumbling weakly, while Adderpaw only shrugged and Sootpaw kept glaring at her father. If it bothered Wildfire, he certainly didn't show it.

"This is the final part of your test. Once you have done this, you will be one step closer to being a warrior. Tonight will be your ceremonies… should you pass, at least. Now, without further ado, allow me to explain how this is going to work," Wildfire stood up and motioned to both her and Gingerpaw with his tail. "I'm sure you've noticed our Grand Royal apprentices here. They shall be assisting me in today's endeavor. Your task is simple: you will be fighting one of them instead of each other.

It may seem daunting at first, but do not be discouraged. I have made it clear to them that they are not allowed to fight back against you. I will say your name when it is your turn and give you one of them as an opponent. Should you face off against Grand Royal Gingerpaw, your task is to get through his defenses, if only once. He will let me know once that has been achieved. Should you face off against Grand Royal Flarepaw, your goal is to catch her. Pin her somehow, or simply grab onto her, either is fine. Once you are finished with your test, you will be free to go back to camp to rest. Am I clear?"

The Low Ranks glanced at each other, all looking equal parts terrified and as if they wanted to just run away now, but eventually, they all muttered a "yes, sir."

"Very well," Wildfire nodded to himself, grinning for a moment and making a show of looking at each of them, eyes lingering on Sootpaw. "Let's begin shall we?"

They all made space for the center of the clearing to be empty, the test-takers standing on the far end and Gingerpaw and Flarepaw sitting at the opposite side. Wildfire stood in the middle still, circling to look at all of them, and his eyes landed on Flarepaw for a moment. His gaze darkened and the she-cat mentally prepared herself, heart racing in anticipation.

"Commoner Sootpaw, to the center."

Her heart jumped with instinctual panic hearing his name come from her father's mouth, but she kept a careful expression on her face, breathing through her alarm. Trying to find some semblance of control.

"Your opponent will be Grand Royal Flarepaw."

Of course, it is.

She should have anticipated this, really. Taking in a deep breath, she stood up carefully from her spot moving with stiffness in her shoulders that she tried to shake off to no avail. If anybody noticed it, they didn't comment on it, tension and excitement filtering through the air for the first round.

Flarepaw stopped once she was in the center of the clearing and makeshift arena, silver eyes remaining closed for as long as she could before, inevitably, turning her eyes to him. Sootpaw looked to be just about as reluctant as her to look at her. She took in a steady breath, heart clenching for a moment.

When he looked at her, it felt like a stranger was staring at her instead.

"You have your orders, any questions?" Wildfire called out to them, but for some reason, his voice sounded muffled to her. Sootpaw's eyes held embers of anger just waiting to combust and the image of his fury flashed in her mind for a second.

"No questions." It was funny and sad, just how much hearing his voice made her heart stutter. This was the closest they had been since Mousepaw and Thornblaze's deaths, the most they were being forced to interact.

"Then, begin!" Wildfire's voice rang through the air, but where it should have pushed Sootpaw into action immediately, the grey-furred tom just stood there. Looking at her.

Flarepaw remained still, because this wasn't her test and this wasn't her fight. She was not the one being watched. (Well, she probably was, Wildfire seemed to take great joy in this.)

The seconds ticked by and Flarepaw felt a sense of forlornness washing over her. Sootpaw still wasn't moving.

And with the way he was just standing there, it didn't look like he planned on moving either.

He'll fail. He'll fail if he doesn't do anything at all.

She didn't want that. Then it would be her fault because Sootpaw didn't want to fight her.

Taking in a deep breath, Flarepaw closed her eyes for half a second, wistfulness and longing washing over her in waves before she breathed out the words, cautious and pleading and desperate, just for his ears to hear;

"Catch me, Sootpaw." Her voice quivered, but she didn't care, his name foreign on her tongue. He seemed to startle at that, a spark appearing in his eyes that had nothing to do with the flares of anger. He inhaled sharply and it sounded like it hurt him, but she hoped it was working.

She hoped he would listen.

"Catch me."

Her voice was broken, her words shattered.

But there, in the crevices of her soul and chest.

There, hope shined.

Unbroken and alive.

And it flared.

A/N: Whoo. Can't believe I managed to finish this on time. And quite a long chapter too. Finals are done and I'm now officially on Winter break so I can finally sleep, you guys! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and stay safe everyone!

Question of the Day

(Courtesy by my little cousin, don't know if I ever asked this before but-)

If you could live anywhere in this world, where would it be? On the flip side, where would you not want to live?

(I don't have a specific place/state/country in mind, but I would like to live near the ocean. I would not want to live in the desert or where it's super hot at all times of the year, or places where it's humid all the time.)

Please review, favorite, and/or follow!

Let me know what you think of the story and give constructive criticism where you see fit.

If you have fanart of any kind, check out my profile for more details!

Thank you and peace out!

~Wolfcreations21