"There is something…" he hesitated. The energy surrounding the single kit in this litter felt heavy, somewhat dangerous, and cold. He had felt nothing like it before out of the countless kits he had witnessed be born into his Clan. This kit was somehow different, but he could not pinpoint how. It made him uneasy. "There is something dark about this kit, Ripplewing,"
"He is my last chance at having a son. I will not let you ruin this for me, Toadclaw," the mother hissed. She laid her tail protectively over the dark gray and black kit at her side. Her other kits had been dead, and she would let StarClan curse her before she accepted that her kit's fate would be a dark one. "His father died bravely and was a good… good warrior to this Clan!" She choked out.
"Be that as it may—"
"No," she said firmly. Toadclaw frowned. "This is the one time you will be wrong."
Toadclaw's words followed Volestep throughout his life. Though Ripplewing raised him well and he was a loyal warrior to his Clan, Smokestar never let him go anywhere alone. He was constantly hounded by one warrior or another, never left alone to breathe or think on his own. Toadclaw had whispered his warning to the other medicine cats, and it appeared that they could not keep the words to themselves. All the warriors of the other Clans were wary of him, but most stayed out of his way or got to know him. Though there were a few that tried to get him to snap, but they never managed it. Volestep had always turned his nose and walked away.
Volestep took it all in stride. He knew he was a loyal warrior. There was nothing that would change that. Smokestar would see that and if he never did, Volestep knew that everything he did was for his mother. She believed so much that he was good that he wanted nothing more than to keep her happy. She was old now, having been very old when she had him. Her days were nearing their end but he always visited her after each day.
He padded alongside Willowstream. The pretty gray she-cat had been fortunate enough to earn a spot in Smokestar's favor. When she had insisted that she go out with him, Smokestar couldn't say no. The two walked side by side in comfortable silence. They'd trained together and gotten their warrior names together. Their friendship ran deep and Volestep desperately hoped that it would never go away even if she became Smokestar's mate.
Her tail flicked against his side in a silent warning, and they paused. She gestured with her head in the direction of MarshClan's border. Volestep flicked his tail against her flank in response and moved to stand in front of her as he surveyed the surrounding area. Nothing seemed out of place, but the forest was oddly still, as if holding its breath.
"Volestep…" his friend warned, her soft tone sharp. He glanced over his shoulder and then his mouth was full of dirt. His pained yowl shattered the silence. Willowstream's screech sounded after his own and he thrashed under his attacker. Claws sank into his flesh, tearing at his shoulders and ripping into his sides. Pain rippled through him, but he managed to gain his feet and he flung his attacker off to the side.
He didn't turn to look at them and instead charged to Willowstream. She screeched and yowled and thrashed in fury against her two attackers, but she was small, and these cats were stronger.
MarshClan and FirClan warriors. They had teamed up to target him. Fury turned his vision red, and he lost sight and feeling in his paws. He threw himself at the two cats and bowled them over. They all tumbled away with a scream of fury.
"You'll die, Volestep! I'm tired of seeing you walk around like you're better than us!" A cat snarled. Volestep swiped at his face, knocking him to the side. He didn't even know their names! He just wanted to be left alone. Jaws locked around his neck, and he was yanked off his feet.
He landed hard and the breath whooshed from his chest. Blood loss had his head spinning. He blinked up as the three cats surrounded him, panting, and bloodied but satisfied.
"Maybe we should just leave him to bleed out with the she-cat?" One asked. Volestep let out a snarl and his muzzle was shoved into dirt.
"Let's leave him. If we're lucky, Smokestar will think he killed her himself. Then we'll see what that old tom does about that," another spat. Volestep curled his lip in anger, but his strength was waning. He needed to get to Willowstream. They had said something about her.
"Let's get out of here before a patrol comes by," the FirClan warrior mumbled and they departed, kicking dirt over him for good measure. Volestep blinked as light faded in and out of his vision. Willowstream… his friend. He somehow found the strength to get to his paws. He needed to get home.
He stumbled over to his friend and pressed his nose into her flank. She didn't move. Blood pooled at his paws, and he cast his gaze to her neck. Torn out. Vicious. Her lips were still curled in a snarl, but the light was gone in her eyes. A mournful cry tore out of his throat, and he dropped his head to her bloodied shoulder. He would take her home. He would carry her home if it killed him.
The camp guards spotted him first. They cried out in alarm and rushed to his aid, supporting him. They tried to take Willowstream but he refused. He would get her into camp himself. One of the guards had disappeared in to get Smokestar. Volestep stumbled into camp, collapsing next to his friend on the ground as the Clan gathered in shocked silence. Smokestar wailed in despair at the sight of Willowstream. He didn't care about her. He only thought she was beautiful. Volestep pressed his nose into the gray she-cat's fur.
"What have you done!" Smokestar cried, grief replaced by unconcealed rage. Volestep didn't understand.
"We were attacked. FirClan and MarshClan warriors came from the trees—"
"Liar!" Smokestar spat at his feet. "I always knew you were a terrible cat, but I never thought you would resort to murder and then lying about it!" Volestep raised his head, the reality sinking in. Smokestar blamed him?
"I… Smokestar, I would never—"
"Don't touch him!" Smokestar hissed as the medicine cat apprentice came up to his side. She flinched away from her leader and Volestep ignored her as he struggled to stand tall. "You killed Willowstream My mate —"
"She was never your mate, Smokestar. She never agreed to that—"
"You were jealous she had chosen me! So, you killed her! That's what you did!" Smokestar screeched. His shrill voice echoed in the quiet camp, and Volestep glanced around for help from his Clanmates. No cat said a word. Distrust and doubt and even hate flickered across their faces. No cat was going to help him. Fear settled like a pit in his gut. He turned ice blue eyes onto his leader.
"I would never kill Willowstream! She was my friend!" Volestep insisted and then forced a deep breath as the world swayed under him. He had to stay awake. "Enemy warriors—"
"You lie!" Smokestar snarled and stepped forward again. "You create a lie to cover your murder because that's what you are, a dark, disloyal cat—"
"Where's my mother? Where is Ripplewing?" Volestep asked, fighting through the spots that danced across his vision. She would defend him.
"She's dead," Smokestar spat at his feet. Volestep fought back a cry of anguish. His mother was gone…? "She should've gotten rid of you the moment she had you, the moment Toadclaw told her how dark you truly are, like you proved today." Volestep heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing. Something snapped. A piece clicked into place, cold and dark and so very cruel. Volestep closed his eyes. The two cats he cared about, the ones that he fought so hard to be good for, were gone. Peace settled over him unlike any he felt before. His eyes flicked open, focused, and sure. Smokestar hesitated, doubt settling in him for the first time since they had entered camp.
"Do you truly think I am dark, Smokestar? Tell me, what have I done to show you dark?" Volestep asked carefully. The fear was gone. Smokestar could see something was different, but he powered on, determined.
"You killed Willowstream—"
"And where is your proof in that, leader?" Volestep asked, once again, his voice calm, crafted to sound bemused, skeptical even.
"You're covered in her scent; her tufts of fur are in your claws—"
"I carried her home; I battled another gray cat. Scan the cats of your enemy Clans and you'll see they bare my claws," Volestep countered. Smokestar flattened his ears, lip curling.
"You're a liar. Toadclaw is right about you—"
"You are a paranoid mouse-heart, Smokestar," Volestep retorted. Smokestar recoiled, anger and fear flashing across his face.
"I, Smokestar, banish you—" Volestep lashed his tail, blue eyes dancing with a hint of something sinister. The warrior that valued his Clan above all else had died today with his mother and friend.
"Think hard on your next words, Smokestar," he cautioned, "you do not want to regret them."
"I won't regret a thing once I get your filthy pelt out of my Clan. I should've killed you when I had the chance," Smokestar snarled. Resolve swelled in his chest, and he stalked forward until he stood nose to nose with Volestep. "I banish you, Volestep, in the sight of StarClan, for the murder of your Clanmate and—"
"False charges," Volestep cocked his head to the side.
"The banishement is final, crow-food," Smokestar hissed, "if any of my warriors scent you on my territory, they have orders to hunt you down and kill you." Volestep's eyes danced with amusement, and he tipped his head forward in a mock sign of respect. Smokestar bristled.
"I would like to see them try," Volestep murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear. "Watch your back, Smokestar," the dark warrior whispered, ice blue eyes cutting through to the coward leader's heart, "because soon you will find my claws there." Volestep scanned his Clan once last time, looking for some cat to spare, but he found no empathy on their faces and the cold settled comfortably in his chest and he welcomed it like a long-lost friend as he padded out of his camp as a warrior a final time.
Cloudfur, Eaglewhisker, and Seedheart all died within moons of each other, throats slit and fear scent staining their bodies. MarshClan blamed FirClan and FirClan blamed MarshClan and they each blamed FieldClan. Smokestar vehemently denied the claims. FieldClan was peaceful. He attempted to blame it on the disgraced warrior, Volestep, but neither Clan had found his scent there and they knew it well.
Tensions rose and border patrols often became hostile. Many cats left the encounters with fresh marks on top of old ones. Smokestar became even more paranoid, and distrust was thrust at everyone of his Clanmates. But that didn't stop him from picking Bluetail, Willowstream's sister, as his mate. The she-cat had willingly gone to his side having always been distrustful of Volestep and Willowstream's friendship. Bluetail had determined that Smokestar had saved the Clan from a monster instead of having a paw in its creation.
And Clan life carried on despite all the turmoil surrounding it. Smokestar and Bluetail had their kits, and their warrior assessments were coming up.
Applepaw bounded down the well-worn path to the fields that circled the forested hill that she called home. Her warrior assessment was today, and her mentor had tasked her with finding a field mouse. It wasn't that prey was for the Clan, though she had been tasked with finding that too, it was because field mice were very small and very hard to find. It would take all of her skills to find one and bring it back successfully.
She had found a good amount of prey and her last piece of the day would be her field mouse prize. She creeped along the path and made sure to keep her footsteps light. The air around her was quiet and still. The wind across the plains was soft and her scent wouldn't be carried. She hummed thoughtfully as she peeked her head above the tall grasses in curiosity.
The grass rolled around her, and she purred to herself but something dark caught her. She paused. The dark shape seemed to have disappeared, having only been a shadow in her vision.
She started to pad off again when something collided with her back. She attempted to cry out, but her muzzle was forced into the dirt with a paw. Strong limbs held her down and kept her from thrashing. Fear tore through her and she started to whimper. She could not see her attacker, except for his tail. The sleek, dark gray fur reminded her of the stories her mother used to tell her of a phantom cat that stalked these lands. He had killed her mother's sister and only her father had been able to drive him.
This cat could not be him. That tom was just a silly, scary story.
"What is a little apprentice like you doing so far from the camp?" A cold, deadly voice purred. Shivers chased her fear and replaced with it an overwhelming urge to run, to never return, to hide and beg and plead for forgiveness. The tom flipped over, coming nose to nose with her. She was still trapped to the ground, but she could see him now. Eyes the color of a winter sky stared bemusedly down at her. There was no anger there, only geninune curiosity. She did not know this tom. He had the faint scent of FieldClan.
"Let me go! My father will look for me if I don't return!" She pleaded and thrashed. Pain laced through her flank, and she cried out. His claws hung snuggly in her pelt and each time she moved, his claws sank deeper in.
"Your father?" he titled his head to the side, eyes calculating. "Smokestar?"
"Yes! Yes!" She nodded vigioursly. "If you let me go, I'll never tell him I was here," she added in an attempt for freedom. He seemed to know her father. Maybe he was a rogue that her father had known before.
"Do you know what your father did, little… what's your name?" He asked. He didn't move. He just kept looking at her like they were sitting across from each other at Gathering. He had no sense of what situation he had her in.
"I'm… I'm Applepaw," she managed to get out. Terror shot through her limbs. He wasn't moving, he wasn't moving.
"And your mother, what is her name?" The tom asked, only curious. It seemed harmless enough, maybe he would let her go.
"Bluetail," she mumbled. For the first time since their encounter, something sparked in the tom's eyes and he finally focused on the apprentice below him.
"Your mother and your father both… they are the reason those warriors are dead. They let Willowstream die. I will tell you this once, little Applepaw," he said carefully, weighing his words, as if he was determining his fate by talking to her. "You should not return to your camp. You are innocent, a collateral. You were not born when Smokestar made his mistake. So, I will spare you. But the rest of your Clan, the ones who denied me my right as a warrior and who turned their backs on me, they will die, Applepaw." She stared up at the tom in horror as he continued, "if I find you at that camp when I come to bring Smokestar to justice, I will kill you." He said as his ice blue eyes narrowed. "I am not a kit killer, but you will not be spared if you stay. It is your choice. Warn your other apprentices and leave. Go now. And remember my words." With that, he vanished like smoke on the wind as if somehow, he had been gifted to do so.
Applepaw laid there, frozen in the moment, her eyes still locked on the space the tom had been. His words rang in her ears. Her father had let Willowstream die? He had been the cause? Smokestar was paranoid cat, but he was not a killer nor was he unjust. He had always treated her siblings fairly and he had been brave when the other Clans accused him of murdering those other warriors. This tom… he must have done it. She scrambled to her paws. She would need to speak to the other apprentices. Her brothers would know what to do.
She did not want to speak to Smokestar yet. She might've just had a daydream about the stories her mother told. The tom had barely seemed to exist, and his words were cryptic. She didn't want to worry him more. He had to worry about the border patrols being attacked. She bounded in the direction back to camp, only grabbing her prey as a second thought. She needed to talk to her brothers.
"What do you mean? Smokestar is responsible for it?" Grasspaw retorted later that night.
"I don't know," Applepaw shrugged, her ears flicking and tail lashing. She didn't want to be overheard.
"Well, I believe him. Smokestar has always been a coward and distrustful. He spreads it wherever he goes," Kestrelpaw spat.
"What are you talking about?" She hissed under her breath, "he's our father!"
"He's a coward. You've never heard the full about Volestep, have you?" Her brother sneered. "Sagefoot told me when I was sick and Toadclaw was away. Volestep was a loyal warrior and one day, he returned with blood and wounds, and he was barely alive himself. He brought Willowstream home, but she was dead. Smokestar accused him of murdering her and banished him without letting him speak. No cat here in this Clan spoke up for him. I think you saw Volestep."
"What! No! Volestep would've killed me. My mother said—"
"Volestep did not get fair treatment. Our mother is wrong. I'm going to leave. I believe what he said to you. I don't want to die because of some stupid decision Smokestar made." Kestrelpaw lashed his tail as he stood.
"I'll tell Smokestar," Applepaw insisted.
"I don't care. Make sure to tell him that Volestep was innocent, too."
"Why do you believe something Sagefoot said?" Grasspaw asked.
"Because she was the medicine cat that tried to heal him, but Smokestar told her no. She wanted to help him and couldn't. I trust her over Toadclaw. That tom is deceitful," Kestrelpaw meowed and glanced around the den to the other apprentices. "You can come with me or die, because I believe Volestep will come for the Clan that abandoned him."
"When are you going to leave?" Applepaw asked.
"Are you going to come with me?" Kestrelpaw challenged. Applepaw lashed her tail and Kestrelpaw frowned.
"I thought so."
"I'm going to tell Smokestar—"
"Do it. I'll leave right now."
She stared at her brother. The speckled gray tom did not back down. He had always been defiant, and he and his father always argued. He had conflicting ideas that Applepaw wasn't so sure of.
"I… I think I just had a dream and I drifted off…" Applepaw said uncertainly. Grasspaw glanced between his siblings.
"Whether it was a dream, or you encountered Volestep himself, I'm leaving."
"Where are you going to go?" Grasspaw asked.
"Away. One of the Clans will take me in." Kestrelpaw shrugged.
"What about—"
"Stop!" Kestrelpaw snapped, "I've made my decision. If Volestep himself comes and offers me safety, I'll take it."
"But he killed Willowstream…"
"Whatever, Applepaw. Make a decision." With that, Kestrelpaw stalked out of the den. Applepaw glanced between her den mates, and some were confused, and some were resolved. She didn't know how to feel. Kestrelpaw seemed to think that her father was wrong. But… Smokestar would never do that. Not without reason. No, Volestep deserved the banishment.
Four FieldClan apprentices left their Clan the following moon. Applepaw and Whitepaw remained. Smokestar sent patrols after patrols after them, but once the four crossed a border, the patrols refused to go further even as Smokestar snarled and yowled at them. Too many skirmishes had occurred for them to risk their lives.
"If they have chosen to leave," one warrior said with a returned snarl, "then let them leave. Life here is terrible as it is."
"If you hate it so much," Smokestar spat, "then leave." The warrior had left that evening and found the apprentices living in FirClan. The confused FirClan leader accepted him. The FirClan leader did not reveal the location of the missing FieldClan cats. He knew how senile Smokestar was and refused to give the poor cats back to a paranoid mouse-brain.
The first death happened seven days after the apprentices left. The warrior had been walking alone at night and had been found two days later when Whitepaw stumbled across the body during a hunt. Throat torn out and blood coating the forest floor.
Smokestar had started to accuse warriors of the murder. He had his deputy interview every warrior, every cat that left the camp. Each warrior was interrogated before they left the camp by a rotating watch of one warrior and the deputy. Smokestar trusted no cat.
The next two deaths occurred after the first Gathering after the first death. They happened one day after the other. Both cats were found along an unwalked path near MarshClan border. After that, Smokestar restricted warriors from going out on patrols without his deputy or his mate. Every other cat was to remain in camp until the murderer could be found. But even going out in pairs did not save them. Bluetail and Treefur were the first and only pair to die. Bluetail had battled for her life, but it had been a game, a tease, that little bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, she would live.
But in the end, she hadn't.
After that, Smokestar turned on his Clanmates. Every cat received his snarls and hisses, even his remaining kit. Applepaw, though old enough to be a warrior, still bore her apprentice name because even her father couldn't trust her. She was the first one to leave camp. She was arrived to FirClan and reunited with her brothers.
After Applepaw left, cats slowly disappeared from camp. They walked out the front and never returned. Eventually, Smokestar was left flinching at shadows and hiding in his den.
One fateful day, a shadow descended through camp. The camp seemed to shy away from the darkness that followed in the cat's wake. Smokestar's vengeance was coming.
"Smokestar." The cold, cruel voice echoed through the camp. "Come out, leader, and pay your dues!"
"You're just a shadow! A nightmare!"
"Maybe, I am," the tom shrugged and glided down to the hollow of camp. "But you still must pay."
"I… I did the right thing! Volestep… he was a bad cat! Even Toadclaw—"
"Toadclaw was a liar and manipulator. If he had still been alive, I would have taken my time to kill him. I would carve him apart and wish him well on his way to StarClan with his blood on my teeth," Volestar called out and paused, tail twitching thoughtfully. "Maybe I would have crippled him and made him watch as I tore apart the Clan he corrupted."
"You're a vile, disgusting monster!" Smokestar finally stepped out of his den.
"There you are," Volestep purred. His dark coat was covered in scars, but his body was strong, and his eyes were cold. The shadows stemmed from him and Smokestar swore he saw the image of a large, black cat behind him with dark eyes and wicked fangs.
"I'm not scared of you!" Smokestar spat. Volestep chuckled and shook his head as he padded forward.
"Not scared of me? Oh, but Smokestar, I made a promise, didn't I?" Volestep asked. Smokestar recoiled.
"You can't kill me! You're not real! I… you're dead! There is no way you survived the wounds… that Willowstream…"
"Tsk, tsk, Smokestar, you are not allowed to say her name," Volestep sighed in disappointment. Smokestar whimpered and darted back into his den. Volestep barked out a laugh and followed him in.
"It's time for your end, Smokestar. I was a good warrior, I was loyal, but you didn't believe me. So, you did this to your Clan," Volestep murmured. Smokestar shivered in the back of the den.
"Please… I didn't…"
Volestep didn't let him finish. And Smokestar's scream was the last thing that echoed through the empty FieldClan camp.