The clearing fell silent. Blood glistened on the grass as sunlight sliced through the trees. As the quiet drew on, a bird chirped above. Then another. As a few heartbeats passed, the birds took up their morning song, as though nothing horrible had taken place in the sacred Fourtrees.

Looking around, Fireheart saw the Clans were staggering apart, clumping together with their Clanmates, exchanging relieved purrs and licks with the survivors. Naturally, without a word, one had become four again.

Scourge lay still on the grass, his claws still unsheathed, but unmoving. His eyes were unfocused as he panted. Fireheart took a moment to stare at his brother. Where the collar had once been was missing fur, leaving a ring behind in the skin. He could see sores and welts now in Scourge's flesh, caused by the deeply embedded collar.

That collar was put on him as a kit, Fireheart thought, feeling ill. How did he even survive growing into it? Fireheart recalled his own kittypet collar—it had fit him perfectly at the time, but he was older and bigger now.

Silverthorn padded to him, his shoulders slumped but eyes bright with relief. He pressed against Fireheart quietly, and Fireheart leaned into him in return. "We did it," Silverthorn murmured. "You did it."

Fireheart felt light-headed as he stood longer. He felt the pain and ache of all his wounds now, and swallowed as he felt blood drip down from a deep cut on his side. StarClan, he thought. I'm tired.

"Are you okay?" Silverthorn asked.

Fireheart nodded silently, but sat down with a heavy thud. "I'm exhausted."

He had no time to rest. A group of WindClan warriors, headed by Deadfoot, was approaching. Fireheart felt a rush of relief to see the deputy alive. Deadfoot bore many wounds, but he could still limp to Fireheart.

"Thank StarClan that worked," Deadfoot murmured. Fireheart stiffened. There was grief in the old tom's gaze.

"What's wrong?" Silverthorn asked.

Deadfoot looked pained. "Ferretstar is dying," he rasped. "He's asking for you."

Sharp pain lanced through Fireheart's chest. He leaped to his paws, his own wounds forgotten. "No! Where is he?"

Deadfoot flicked his tail. "Come." He led them to the edge of the clearing, where WindClan was grouped. Fireheart saw the leader and his stomach lurched.

The black-and-white tom lay on his side, panting. He had a deep wound down his side that had been covered with cobwebs, but was still bleeding. Besides that he had many more scratches up and down his body. Fireheart rushed to his side.

"Ferretstar," he choked.

The old tom's eyes brightened as Fireheart came to him. Silverthorn padded close, and sat a fox-length away. His own eyes grew dull with sadness, but he did not come closer—he had not been as close to Ferretstar as Fireheart had.

"Fireheart," Ferretstar breathed. "I'm so glad you're alive." He coughed. "Help me up, lad. I wish to see WindClan territory one last time."

Fireheart felt as though he had Scourge's tiny collar bound around his throat. Obediently, he nudged Ferretstar to his paws, and allowed the WindClan leader to lean heavily upon him. Mudclaw rushed to the leader's other side, and together, they slowly led him staggering up the slope. Ferretstar's breathing was labored and pained, but he limped along, his clouded eyes still shining with determination.

They reached the top of the slope, and Ferretstar sat. Fireheart was dimly aware of Ferretstar's blood seeping into his ginger pelt, but he did not pull away. Ferretstar smiled briefly as he set his gaze on the hills of WindClan in the distance. "There it is," he murmured. "Mudclaw… thank you for all the strength you've given your Clan."

"Ferretstar," Mudclaw hissed, his voice thick with despair. "You can't go." The warrior pushed his muzzle into his leader's shoulder.

"I've given all my lives," Ferretstar rasped. He weakly licked Mudclaw's head, then looked to Fireheart. "Thank you for all you have done for my Clan."

Fireheart was too choked with emotion to reply. He stared into Ferretstar's eyes, willing him to pull through.

"I'm so glad…" Ferretstar murmured. "That I got to know you. Jake's son… you would have made him so proud. I only wish… you could have been my son, too."

Fireheart pushed his muzzle into Ferretstar's neck. "You've been like a father to me," he breathed.

A brief purr bubbled in Ferretstar's throat, but it faded quickly. A heartbeat passed, and Ferretstar slowly slumped forward, until he had laid down on the soft, sunlit grass. His head fell to the side. His last breath stirred the grass, and the leader of WindClan was no more.

Deadfoot approached them, his eyes glazed with pain. He stood in front of Ferretstar's body, then fell into a crouch, pushing his nose against Ferretstar's forehead. "Rest, old friend," he murmured. "May StarClan welcome you. May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter wherever you sleep."

Mudclaw bowed his head and quietly murmured the same prayer. Wracked with grief, Fireheart quietly buried his muzzle in Ferretstar's pelt, breathing his scent for the last time.

"He'll be buried by the Outlook Rock," Deadfoot rasped. "It was his favorite place in the territory."

"He died a hero," Fireheart murmured. "He was so determined to keep WindClan safe."

Mudclaw nodded. He looked at Fireheart. "You should go back to your Clan," he murmured. There was no animosity in his voice, only sadness.

He's right, Fireheart thought. WindClan needed to mourn their leader, and Fireheart needed to be with RiverClan. He licked Ferretstar's ear before he backed away. Goodbye, Ferretstar.

Russetfur and Leopardstar were standing by the huddled form of Scourge, snarling. Other warriors flanked them, staring with hatred at him. Scourge stared evenly back. He was no fool—he knew he was vastly outnumbered.

Fireheart and Silverthorn hurried towards their leader.

Leopardstar shot Fireheart a look as they approached. "You said he was defeated," she hissed. "He's still alive!"

Fireheart padded towards his brother, then turned to his leader. "He is defeated," he retorted. "His Clan abandoned him."

"We should kill him," a ShadowClan warrior spat. Many cats hissed their agreement.

Fireheart felt himself arching his back. "He can't hurt us anymore," he argued. I don't want to see anyone else die. Not even him.

"Do what you will with me," Scourge muttered.

Silverthorn glared at Leopardstar. "Fireheart beat him," he growled. "He should decide what we do with him."

Leopardstar's eyes glittered, but after a moment, she relented. She took a step back, then looked to Fireheart once more. "You saved the Clans," she admitted, her voice quiet. "What will happen to him?"

Fireheart glanced at Scourge. His brother now seemed so small, so unthreatening. Scourge stared back at him, waiting. What would he be like if he had a chance to be a real Clan cat? He wondered. Would he have been different?

What would I have done in his paws?

Fireheart knew he could not bring himself to let them kill Scourge—not when he was like this. Perhaps if Scourge were to raise his claws in battle again… but for now, he seemed accepting of his loss. Fireheart turned to Leopardstar. "I want to bring him to RiverClan as a prisoner," he meowed. "I don't think he poses a threat anymore."

Russetstar curled her lip. "I don't agree," she growled. "But I won't stop you." She backed away, her tail lashing. She nodded briefly to Fireheart. "You're a brave tom," she meowed. "You've done much for the Clans." She lifted her tail and turned to her Clanmates. "ShadowClan, we're going home!"

Fireheart watched them. He saw Bramblepaw pressed against Goldenflower, his mother. Tawnypaw butted her head against his shoulder. He wondered if the apprentice was returning to ThunderClan—but a moment later, he pulled away, his ears flattened apologetically. He turned away and darted towards ShadowClan.

Strange, he thought. I wanted to go back to RiverClan at my first chance. Maybe ShadowClan is where he belongs.

Leopardstar lifted her head. "RiverClan," she loudly called. "Let's go home."

Fireheart nudged Scourge to his paws. "Get up," he ordered. "You're coming to our camp."

Scourge nodded silently. Silverthorn stood on the other side of him, watching through narrowed eyes.

Leopardstar led the way across the clearing. As they passed the ThunderClan group, Fireheart hesitated. Where's Sandstorm? He glanced at Silverthorn. "Will you watch him?"

Silverthorn nodded. Fireheart broke away from RiverClan, hurrying towards the ThunderClan group. Every cat there was wounded. They eyed him curiously as he approached. He searched frantically for her, fearing the worst.

Fireheart breathed out a sigh of relief as he spotted her ginger pelt. The molly saw him, too, and she drew away from her Clanmates to pad towards him. She touched her muzzle to his cheek without a word.

"You're alive," Fireheart breathed. "Thank StarClan."

Sandstorm nodded dully. "Bluestar is dead," she rasped. "I'm ThunderClan's leader now."

Fireheart stiffened with surprise. "Wow." He felt like he should congratulate her—but at the same time, it seemed inappropriate, given the death of Bluestar. With another passing heartbeat, he felt a pang of loss. Bluestar had been a noble warrior. "I'm sorry you lost her," he murmured. "Ferretstar died, too."

Sandstorm pulled away, grief pooling in her gaze. She lifted her chin. "I mean to keep the promise I made," she meowed. "I'm going to tell my Clanmates you're the father of the kits. I'm going to make sure you know them."

Fireheart touched his nose to her ear. "Thank you."

Sandstorm turned away, returning to her Clanmates. Fireheart hurried to join his Clan again, taking up his position alongside Scourge. He glanced over his shoulder to the Great Rock. The broken collar remained there, lying on the ground like a dead snake. Fireheart shuddered at the sight of it and turned his gaze ahead, towards the rising sun.

The sun cleared the treetops at last, flooding Fourtrees with light. The sunlight warmed Fireheart's pelt, and it seemed to him that no dawn had ever been brighter.