I am SO sorry for my horribly late update for this story; I'd hoped to update sooner, but life intervenes. Nevertheless, I've been writing bits and bits throughout my spare time, and I'm excited to show what has been composed! Although it won't justify my glacially slow update, it does have a pretty big word count.
It would probably help better understand an important part of this chapter with the context of chapter 17's flashback scene (just reading petalfur's words would do)
Again, I am very sorry for the delay. There are only two chapters left in the run, so I will try my hardest to make sure that there'll be no future delays. Your responses really keep me going, especially during these hard times. Thank you so much for reaching out and for the kind words!
"What is that mush of a brain telling you, muggins?" Flamepaw asked out of the blue.
"Huh? Me?"
"Yes, stupid, of course it's you I'm talking to! You've been acting strange all day, and I really can't roll with it any longer without feeling like a douche. So," Flamepaw leaned towards Hollowpaw. "What is that mush of a brain telling you? Spill, so I may knock some sense into it."
"I don't have anything worthwhile to say." Hollowpaw said, clawing at the ground. "I mean, maybe I do, maybe I should….. oh, scratch it. It's not that important. Something impression-ruining, maybe, but not important."
"What makes you certain that there's anything left of my impression of you to ruin?" Flamepaw said teasingly.
Hollowpaw laughed, but sobered up quickly. "Alright, uh… I guess, Goldensplash is making me kinda worried?" He looked away from Flamepaw, nervous. "I mean, she has all the power here. She's the one who made the decision, she's the one who can take it back. Take me back. I mean, if she decides she doesn't want me anymore. I guess… I dunno, I kinda like it here." He sat back on his hind paws, still fondling at the ground with grubby claws. "Fox dung. Remind me not to keep such an open heart."
For a long time, Flamepaw was silent. Then, he said, "You know Goldensplash wouldn't actually throw you out, right? Like, I can't say I've talked to her that much, but I know she's got a heart."
"Really?" Hollowpaw still couldn't shake the feeling. "I mean, I-I'm sorry, I'm not trying to paint Goldensplash black. You've known her longer. I… I just have a habit of making heel whenever someone smacks of rat. Not that Goldensplash smells like a rat or anything, I just…" Grimacing, he crushed a fern-leaf with his paw. "Crap. Maybe it's just me."
Flamepaw looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Finally he said, "Nothing's just you, Hollowpaw. You'll never be able to completely change yourself, and that's okay. No one wants you to. Not even Goldensplash. Trust me, Hollowpaw, even if Goldensplash doesn't like you now, even if you think the whole world is against you – mind you, it totally isn't – you'll always have me on your side. There's only one cat I can think off the top of my head that I'd give up the world for."
"You're stretching things. There's absolutely no way –"
"Well, I was gonna say that I might be able to do the same for you as I would my mum, if you catch me on a good day. But, uh, if it makes you feel better, I guess I could make some adjustments."
Hollowpaw shuffled his paws, flushed with embarrassment. "You're making me feel worse."
"Just give Goldensplash some time. She'll give in, eventually."
"But-"
"No buts. You want her to like you, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Then give her the chance to get her head out of her arse and do the right thing. Let her sort herself out, then try again; once, twice, or perhaps a dozen times. It's probably gonna be hard. But it's a good hard, striving for the cats you love."
Hollowpaw rolled his eyes, but a small smile danced at the corners of his lips. "So vague. This is some shit advice."
"I like my shit. It's good. It's happy. It makes other cats happy."
…
"Never mind the docile dormouse, Flamepaw! Where's the warrior in ya?"
Flamepaw lifted himself from the ground and sat on it wearily. Hollowpaw sighed before joining him. "You weren't trying, were you?"
"Of course I was." Flamepaw muttered. "Maybe… maybe I'm just built for something else."
"Fighting doesn't suit you?"
"Well, I am training to be a warrior, but… I don't have to be all tooth and claw to become one, right?" Flamepaw said hopefully. "I don't want to fight for the sake of fighting. I want something that will outlive me."
Hollowpaw flicked at a pebble on the ground. "How are you gonna outlive yourself?"
Flamepaw beamed. "I've thought about it a lot, and it turns out, there are many routes to take at the fork of a path. I could be meditator, bringing peace among the clans. I could be deputy, keeping ThunderClan in order. And I've always wanted to draft a code policy. Ha – can you imagine me in the middle of public opinion?"
Hollowpaw squinted at Flamepaw, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he tried to depicture his friend in the far future. "… Nope. All I see is you."
"C'mon, don't be like that! We could be anyone, anything we could ever dream of. We could create a symphony that will forever echo among the clans." Flamestar looked at Hollowpaw, his eyes sparkling with a new determination. "Together."
"Together?" Hollowpaw grunted. "Ur, okay. I guess. Sounds a bit lame, though."
"Let the legacy of Flamepaw and Hollowpaw begin! From symphony to requiem!"
"… From symphony to requiem."
…
I heard that Flamepelt aspires to become the next leader himself.
Well, he's always been recognized as a natural leader. I myself have always wanted a leader to believe in.
As did I. He's a likely successor. A good bloke. Common consent to support him, eh?
A breadth of vision, too. Although he does seem to be a bit of an advocate of peace. Saw how he reacted to that ShadowClan tom talking shit 'bout him yesterday? Just talked him down. Has a soft heart, that one. Might not be a good face for the most powerful clan of all four.
Like I said earlier: common consent. We'll follow the majority, see how it goes. See if he's not only a great leader, but a hard charger.
…
"Applause and a hearty cheer." Hollowheart said. "Just what you wanted, eh?"
"Yes, it is." Flamestar said. This was it. He was leader of ThunderClan. "This… this is all just so glorious and exhilarating. If not a bit surreal."
"You'll get used to it, pal. You have to." Hollowheart grinned. "This is the start of your symphony!"
"My symphony." Flamestar tasted the word in his mouth. "Will cats like my symphony?"
"Depends. But one thing for sure," Hollowheart gestured towards the audience, "it will drown out the choir of wrong'uns until the world resounds of a single tune."
Depends on what? Flamestar wanted to ask. The cats? Or… you can't possibly mean me, could you?
Instead, he said, "No. I don't want to sing alone. I dream of a four-part harmony. I want peace and friendship among the clans, among all the clans, and I want to bring upon this change with you alongside me." Leaning in close to catch his gaze, Flamestar said, "Hollowheart, would you be my deputy?"
"Nah."
"Nah?" Flamestar repeated, disappointment dripping from his voice.
"Sorry." Hollowheart gave a shrug, as if he were trying to look insouciant. "I just… I just don't want you to get accused of anything, okay? Close ties and all that shit. I mean… let's face it, no one would choose a cat like me. Except for a cat like you."
"Oh." Flamestar said, as realization dawned. "Oh."
Hollowheart looked away from Flamestar, wringing his paws. "Yeah. Sorry. Are you… are you mad?"
Instead of answering, Flamestar pulled his tail over Hollowheart's shoulders and hugged him to the top of his bent.
Hollowheart struggled under Flamestar's grasp. "Just for the record, I'm only refusing 'cause I don't wanna be suspected of misusing anything, okay?"
"Stop tryna oil out and stay still!" Flamestar said, laughing heartily as Hollowheart's attempts to escape fared ill. "But really, you mousebrain, no one's going to suspect you for anything. We all know you're above any sort of suspicion now!"
Hollowheart stopped moving. "You think?"
"I know."
Hollowheart paused, then said, quietly, "Remember Losttrail being deputy?"
"Um, yeah?" Flamestar wondered where Hollowheart was getting at.
"Yeah. They ripped him of his title when the symptoms started to kick in. But he'd been on a high post. A lot of his senility was showcased." Hollowheart looked down at his paws. "There's only so much of me that I'd be proud to showcase."
"Hollowheart."
"For what he'd shown during his time as deputy, Losttrail was berated, and berated is he still. Goldensplash told me that he'd ached a lot. As would have she." Hollowheart said. "I don't want ache. I damn well don't."
"No." Flamestar agreed. "And neither would I wish it upon you."
"I don't deserve this hug, do I?" Hollowheart muttered. "You're only hugging me 'cause you thought I was trying to protect you."
"Well, I was 'till now." Flamestar said. "This ain't a thank you hug no more."
"It isn't?"
"No. It's a hug from the friendship realm."
Hollowheart almost laughed. "Thank Starclan for the friendship realm!"
"Thank StarClan for you finally being on talking terms with Goldensplash!"
Hollowheart smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. Must have been tiring for you to keep talking for her. Asking howzit, worrying over my health and all."
"Talking to her in face would have made you uncomfortable. Goldensplash knew that." Flamestar grinned. "Now, what's to say we careen over to your mother-at-last and indulge in a hug-for-three?"
Even now, Flamestar couldn't help but have a grim sense of foreboding of what was to come.
If they'd taken a piece out of Losttrail, why not take twofold out of the rookie?
…
Caught notice of that slip-up he made in front of everyone?
Of course I did.
StarClan I hope that the rest of the clans doesn't think that all of us in ThunderClan are like him. It's honestly embarrassing to have that kit sit on the tree as our representative.
He does lack life experience.
That is exactly why we should have done something when Lizardstar chose him. He doesn't have the experience. Lizardstar's were the better days. She was old.
Easier to keep in the darks, too.
Easier to do business with.
Well, what I'm saying is that we should give him the chance to make his experience. It's only been two moons. He'll shape up, eventually.
I suppose you're right. Let's just hope that in a dozen moons, when our kits and our grand-kits are recounting history, they won't be wondering how in StarClan was this even possible.
…
Complications arose as soon as Flamestar became leader.
Rogues.
Hollowheart's family.
"How do you feel?" Flamestar asked.
"I'm fine. I just… I'd figured they were all dead." Hollowheart mumbled, staring at the ground. "And to think that all this time, they were out and planning revenge."
"Plotting revenge, you mean."
"At ThunderClan." Hollowheart said, lost in his world. "At me. I'm ThunderClan. Mouse dung. What would they think when they see me with their worst enemies?"
Flamestar leaned over Hollowheart, trying to ignore the emotion in his friend's eyes, keeping more sangfroid in his face than his heart. ThunderClan is what matters the most. "Hollowheart, there is no reason for you to have feelings for your old comrades anymore. Your family were your ties to them and now they are gone. Remember who you have here. Your mother. Your brother. Your mate." He paused. "Your best friend."
"You're right." Hollowheart said, looking up at the sky. Ivy, Prim, close your eyes for a sec, would you? "I fight for the sake of fighting."
"I hope you won't reproach yourself for turning your back on the rogues." Flamestar said. "You don't deserve that. You're only following my orders."
"Yes." Hollowheart said, his eyes now on Flamestar. "Exactly."
…
They say that a few of the rogues managed to escape the mop-up. They're believed to be heading towards ShadowClan territory.
That means we should still be on alert. Just as I thought all the scars would stop.
A new batch comin' straight our way, I guess. It seems as though Flamestar is going to lead a team to the area.
What? Why not let ShadowClan take matters into their own paws?
No idea. Guess Flamestar wants to drive them straight back into ours.
This is a serious dilution from what I thought the lad would be.
He's not living up?
No. I can't see all-out efforts on him, anywhere. He's just pledging on the pitch.
Well, who are we to anticipate? They promise us the moon, but do they deliver? No.
Piece of shite.
Watch your mouth! I think he's watching us.
Let him watch. Hopefully he has the tact to listen and pay heed, like Liazardstar.
…
"ShadowClan?" Hollowheart said incredulously. "Jeez!" You're talking about the clan that you tried to very fervently keep the rogues from?"
"Yes. WindClan and RiverClan are with us, too."
"What's with the sudden change of heart?"
Flamestar looked briefly at his paws before speaking. "I have been greatly disturbed with how ShadowClan has been acting lately, and have sought the other clan leaders out."
"How has ShadowClan been acting lately?" Hollowheart asked. "You've been keeping me from going to Gatherings and no one is bothering to tell me shit."
"Your tongue has set too many cats off. One Gathering too many and you will ruin the reputation of ThunderClan."
Hollowheart shrugged carelessly. "The world'll forget. Reputation can easily be repaired."
"Maybe so," Flamestar said, and he wasn't sure why he was so insistent in the advocacy of his own stupid opinion, "Maybe you are right about the latter, about how reputation can easily be fixed. But you couldn't be more wrong about the former. The world will remember where the crack was, and they will keep an eye out for more. The world will never forget." He bent down to look at Hollowheart. "ShadowClan has been talking lately. About the way the borders have been set. About lesser prey in their lands. It's been a few complaints, dotted out from one Gathering to the next. They were a bit hostile, a bit belligerent, perhaps, but they were expressing candid thoughts, and their ambience and tone spoken nothing less of desperation." He shook his head. "Desperation will only bring them into more desperate times. All that the world will remember is their hostility and belligerence. No one will remember their desperation except them as they are living in it."
"No." Hollowheart said, and Flamestar could see not anger, not shock, not even sadness, but just disappointment in his eyes. "You will remember their desperation. And you will relive it in every single moment of your life." He turned away. "I'm sorry, Flamepelt. But I'm against this."
Flamestar clenched his teeth. Who was he to expect Hollowheart to understand?
Hollowheart didn't understand a world where ShadowClan was everything you were ever scared of, everything you ever had nightmares about. Where the mention of ShadowClan was the only thing that could make your mother cry, and Flamestar thought that his mum crying was the scariest thing in the whole world.
He knew that Hollowheart would never be as scared of ShadowClan as he was, or at least, not in the same way. ShadowClan's name wasn't imprinted into his brain, the horror and bloodshed and evil that came with it, the way it changed an atmosphere, the way it cast a pall over everything around it.
But he'd thought that Hollowheart understood, at least, what it meant, why it was something ThunderClan avoided so completely, why he avoided it, shirked from it.
But Hollowheart did not seem to understand, so Flamestar raged.
"It's Flamestar! Who do you think I am?"
"My best friend. That is the first, and foremost, of what you are to me."
"Say, your best friend?" Flamestar laughed. "Think, Hollowheart! Your mother. Your brother. Your mate. Your said best friend. All of us dead, all of us rotting in the ground. It's ThunderClan's name that lives on. Not your personal glory, not your honor. ThunderClan. Our reputation!"
"Fame has gotten into your head!"
"No, sense has. Look at me, Hollowheart! The future of our clan will be determined in these next few moons. We could build a dynasty that will last countless generations. Or we could collapse into nothing," Flamestar caught Hollowheart's eye and let it linger. "like those rogues did when you finally made a warrior out of yourself."
Hollowheart narrowed his eyes. "I am a warrior! I always have been!"
"No." Flamestar said, and he wasn't sure who he was talking to – Hollowheart, or himself. "You're just a coward pretending to be otherwise."
"Doggone it, look at yourself!" Hollowheart snarled. "See how you cower and sneak, how vaguely all the day you fear. See how you've been made a slave and prisoner of others' opinions of you, a fame won by your own deeds! Then you'll see who's the coward."
"Damn it, I'm forswunk with this kind of talk! Do you want to fight with your leader?"
"Oh, Flamepelt, stop it." Hollowheart said. "You're outliving nothing but your purpose."
Flamestar hurled his paw towards Hollowheart, claws unsheathed. The blow missed Hollowheart just by the tip of the nose as he ducked, before feinting with the forepaws and trying to trip him with the hindpaws. Flamestar held his ground and clipped Hollowheart by the ears, just as Hollowheart started jabbing at his – and there they were, cuffing each other's ears as if they were still in the friendship realm and not in the process of actively destroying it.
They both flopped wearily to the ground.
"Not built for fighting, eh?" Hollowheart muttered.
All Flamestar could do was shake his head. His breath had left him.
"What is that mush of a brain telling you?" Hollowheart asked.
"… I don't know." Flamestar said. "Maybe it's telling me that the good days are behind us now."
Hollowheart was silent for a long time. "… Are you sure?"
"The world is my pedestal, Hollowheart. Why would I give it up for you?"
Slowly, Hollowheart got to his paws. His face reminded Flamestar of that whole darning cluster of mongrels looking up at him, telling him what to do, whispering to each other, looks of judgement in their eyes. But for some reason, this was so much worse.
Hollowheart looked at him, his expression taut. Finally, he said, "War won't make you more of anyone."
"We'll see."
"What I meant was," Hollowheart's eyes were dark and probing, and in that rare lucid moment after being as he was for such a long time, Flamestar could see the familiar face of a coward reflected upon them. "You need to get your arse out of your head and do the right thing."
…
Flamestar's really shaping up, eh?
Yep. ShadowClan deserved a beating, and he delivered.
Turns out, he really was a hard charger. And I thought he was just golden smile, big promises and nice speeches.
Well, I knew he had it in him from the start. Tipped by many as future leader; even since back then, we all knew he had it in him.
…
The moons after their fallout passed slowly and surely. The clans fought ShadowClan, the clans won. ShadowClan came swearing revenge, Flamestar turned them off. Days after moons passed, and everyone loved Flamestar. But as the good things begun to wear thin, Flamestar found himself short on lives and high up on the pedestal. It was strange. He had nine lives when others had one; if so, why did it seem like his life was moving faster than everyone else?
He met a loner named Tempest in the woods. Tempest lived just outside the border where an abandoned Twoleg nest was, and there did Flamestar happen to stumble by, there did they meet eyes and start seeing each other. He never told her who he was, though, and mark his words he did not mean to deceive her. He just wanted to be appreciated for who he was. Words that were easy on the ear were words that lied, and Flamestar was lied to all too often. With Tempest, he was not the leader of ThunderClan. He was just Flame. But sometimes he wondered if changing his name would really help make his identity disappear.
"- fought over it day and night! Hollowheart – I mean, Hollow just couldn't see the end of it. By StarClan's kits did he piss me off."
Perched on a rocky outcrop to his left, Tempest lay basking in the languid heat of green-leaf. She turned her head to look at Flamestar, eyes drowsy. "I asked you to bring me food. I didn't ask for your whole life story."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." Tempest said. She stretched their limbs against the rock. "Well, that was a bore."
"Sorry."
"Sorry feeds no belly."
"I was being apologetic! What do you suppose I should have done?"
Tempest bolted up and glared at Flamestar. "Bring me food!"
Flamestar got up and started to walk away.
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
"Oh." There was a brief pause. "Home. Okay."
"See you later."
"Catch you tomorrow."
Flamestar pushed through branches and bushes, the different sounds and smells of the woodland blinding him, the dense growth of the forest grounds wrapping at his paws and trying to drag him down. The fritiniency of cicadas was deafening, and the loneliness even more so. He'd thought that Tempest would make him feel something else.
He burst into camp. The clearing was all hustle and bustle, cats running about on their duties. It was a grateful refuge. Not even the pleasure he'd shared with Tempest could make up for the stifling silence and stilted conversation that had come afterwards. ThunderClan had been running well without him.
ThunderClan had been running well without him.
But it shouldn't, because if it did, where was his place?
He slowly walked across the clearing. Hollowheart's smell was coming from the elder's den. Flamestar could feel his legs pleat beneath him at the thought of talking to Hollowheart, but as someone started to call his name his paws moved before him. No. He did not want to be leader today.
He stopped at the front of the elder's den and sneaked a glimpse inside. Hollowheart and Goldensplash were sitting a few tail-lengths from each other. Hollowheart was etching something on the ground that may be a tad bit inappropriate to someone as old as Goldensplash, who watched from afar and made an occasional vague comment. They weren't hugging each other or anything, but they didn't look uncomfortable, either.
Hollowheart had finally done it. Family was all he had ever wanted. And he'd paid a cheap cost to gain it, too – a friend.
Flamestar turned away, unable to look any more. The ground shifted beneath his paws, the world torquing itself around him. Behind his eyelids, bright spangled drops of light burst into stars, and then blinked out into oily smears. He concentrated on the sound of his breath, on the beating of his heart, on the pattering of paws that seemed to be coming towards his direction –
Flamestar looked up and saw Hollowheart standing in front of him, his face contorted.
"Stop." Hollowheart said, and he was cold, and furious. "Flamestar, what is this? What did you do?"
"I – I just… I came here to check on the elders and…" Flamestar stammered. Why was he stammering? "I haven't done anything wrong!"
"No." Hollowheart said, ushering him behind the elder's den, almost pushing him. "Tell me what you did, Flamestar. Say the words. I want to hear you say them."
Flamestar felt terrible, his brain thumping against his skull, his belly thrust full of coiling adders. "What do you want me to tell you? Tell me. I'll say it."
"No," Hollowheart said. "Flamestar, you – you – " He stopped, and he stopped as well, and they both waited to hear what Hollowheart would say. "This is wrong, Flamestar." He said in a low, frantic voice. "What you're doing is wrong, and you're a fool to think that you'll be able to get away it. This is something that could and should get you exiled for moons. You are a fool, an utter fool to do something as –"
"I am your leader, don't you dare call me a fool," Flamestar yelled. "I'm not. I am not."
"Yell at me after you get that damning smell off your pelt!"
"Smell…?" Flamestar mumbled. Realization hit him. "… No, no… Hollowheart, you can't tell anyone about this."
"Flamestar –"
"I won't allow you," he shouted, and everything was spinning before him. "I'm in chief of this whole –"
"Ever heard of tacit agreement, chief offender of law?" Hollowheart hissed back at him. "If someone isn't following the code, it is deemed a clanmate's right – no, an obligation – to inform others about this violation, whether this 'someone' is doggone leader or not. Not even you can take the code into your own paws, Flamestar."
He was struck silent then, reeling from the fear and shock of what Hollowheart had just told him. The two of them were still standing behind the elder's den, but Flamestar's legs were shaking now. He could feel the misery overtake him, the anger ebb. "Hollowheart," he said, and he could hear the beg in his voice, "please don't tell them. Please don't. If you tell them, they will make me leave." As he said it, he knew it to be true. He didn't know why it hadn't happened yet – whether it be because of all his good deeds or because of what everyone thought as a good deed – but he knew he was correct. They would make him leave, even though he had done what he had done to make them happy.
"No, Flamestar." said Hollowheart, and although he wasn't yelling any longer, his voice was grim and determined. "I'm not lying to Lilacpond. I'm not lying to the cats that have finally accepted me just to be a disappointment again." He turned his back on him. "I could tell them, Flamestar. Or you can do the right thing and see your lover going."
…
He went to meet Tempest a few days later at the abandoned Twoleg nest. For a while they just exchanged careful glances with each other, and he tried to pretend that this was just a normal evening, although if it had been a normal evening, they wouldn't be so silent. This was awkward, even for their standards.
"Well," Flamestar began at last, and he shuffled his paws on the ground, readying himself, before opening his mouth to let out the dreaded words. Tempest beat him to it. "I'm leaving this place."
He was silent. He couldn't speak, he couldn't react, he couldn't even feel his face, couldn't sense what his expression might be, and Tempest said, curtly, "I'm expecting kits, and this place is too dangerous. Rogue gangs. Clans at brawl."
And then he could feel the numbness receding, although as if in compensation, his paws began shaking, and he dug his claws into the ground to keep them still. "Tempest." He said, and his voice sounded strange and thin to him. "I could come with you."
Tempest looked at him, her gaze unreadable.
"I could come with you, Tempest," Flamestar repeated, just in case she hadn't heard. "I have to come with you, it is my duty to come with you and protect my family. The kit deserves to know his, or her, or their –" He shook his head. He did not have the right to call himself the kit's father; for he was not, and if he was claiming himself as one right now, it would be with heart black and intentions spoiled. "Tempest, let me come with you. I have nothing to lose here."
"You told me you had a home."
"Well, yes, I do, but…" Flamestar made a small huffing noise. "It's not a home home, per se. Home is where my loved ones are." He smiled at Tempest. "Home is here, with you."
They were both quiet after that, the silence of the atmosphere absorbing Flamestar's words like blood soaking into the ground.
He'd felt loneliness before, but what he was feeling now was different from the other lonelinesses he had experienced: it was not the loneliness of when he'd seen Hollowheart fare well with his mother, neither rambling nor stumbling over his words but having the wonder of his life, or of standing on the Highrock trying to pacify an irate crowd, or of lying awake beside Tempest, trying not to move, not to rouse her, while the moon threw hard white stripes of light across their nest. He had thought he was lonely then, but now he realized that what he was feeling was not loneliness but fear. But now he had nothing to fear. No one, not even Hollowheart, would be able to add gibberish and debris to his dreams, his reputation, his aspirations anymore. He would be out of their reach. He would be able to protect himself.
Finally, Tempest spoke. "Look, I don't know what you're running from. And truth be honest, I don't really care. But I just thought that you should know…" She looked at Flamestar, then quickly jerked her head away, grimacing. "Nothing beats home, okay? If I were in your place, I wouldn't give it up so easily."
Flamestar stared at her in a sense of sadness unaccounted for. His whole body was aching, as if he were growing new body parts to accommodate this excess of feeling. "Are you going to leave without me?"
"I'm staying here until the kit is old enough to travel." Tempest said. She smiled, just a little. "The kit – whether it be a he, she or they – deserves to know who condemned it to life."
"I'm sorry."
She sniffed. "Save your sorrys for the kit."
Flamestar, after sharing his farewells with Tempest, walked back to camp happily knowing that this wouldn't be the last time to having seen her. His happiness, however, was short lived.
"Oi!"
He startled, looking quickly around his surroundings, before turning around to see a small RiverClan apprentice standing on her side of the border.
"You do know you're trespassing on ThunderClan territory, right?" The apprentice said, almost matter-of-factly. "They're not gonna like you very much when they find out, you know."
"Don't fuss about it." Flamestar muttered, trying to calm down his beating chest. "They couldn't dislike me enough as I am."
The apprentice peered at him curiously, but before she could say anything, a young silver tom burst into the clearing. Every fur in his pelt was bristling. "Streampaw, what are you doing here?"
"Talking. To this stranger."
The tom barely sought to give Flamestar a glance, but when he did, his eyes bulged. He smacked his apprentice on the back of her head. "This is Flamestar, you daft idiot! Remember ThunderClan's leader? He rooted a ferocious rogue gang out and led the battle against ShadowClan a few moons ago!"
"Look, I'd love to keep talking with you." Flamestar said, deciding to play his image. "But I am ThunderClan's leader, and a fairly busy cat, so…"
"So you really are him?" The tom asked, eyes scrutinizing. "I mean, I don't mean offense, but at first glance… gee, I don't know, you look a bit different then when I last saw you at a Gathering. You look…" He hesitated.
But Flamestar merely shrugged. "Getting along in the moons, I suppose."
Streampaw was gazing at him in astonishment. "So you're really ThunderClan's leader?"
"The one and only."
"Then what were you doing outside your territory?" Streampaw asked.
"I thought that was unclaimed ground." The tom added.
Flamestar took a deep breath. "Whatever reason I'm here, you haven't the right to know. So just scoot along, eh?"
"Haven't the right?" The tom said incredulously. "You're a big war hero! You're ThunderClan's leader and respected by so many and yet… you were supposed to… I don't know… be somebody!"
Flamestar opened his mouth, then closed it again. He was too tired to argue, and self conscious enough to know that he didn't deserve to defend himself. But despite that, he just wanted to scream himself hoarse. He wanted to scream like he'd never screamed before.
What do you know? What do you know about fighting until even the tips of your claws feel like they're burning from exhaustion? What do you know about having to fight to protect your own ideals, even when you know no one likes a fighting spirit for a leader? About being a cat forged upon gossip and hearsay and guesswork, so at the end of the day, when the gossip loses its buzz, you know there'll be nothing left of you, nothing at all, zip, zero? About knowing that you were an undeserving candidate who had been awarded the mantle? StarClan damn them, what did they know about being a bad friend, who, even now, couldn't muster up the courage to apologize for his own darn faults?
"You know nothing." Flamestar rasped, coldness dripping so thick that both cats stepped back in response.
"I do think I know some, actually…" The tom said, weary, but too prideful to let up in front of his apprentice. He walked straight up to the border and dangerously held the line, where they stood, face to face. "I think you tried to leave 'cause you couldn't cut it, the leadership. Couldn't handle the pressure."
"You're right. I couldn't cut it." Flamestar said. He spit in the tom's face, and smiled his golden smile. "Looks like I still can't cut it, even now."
He blinked, and saw that a set of claws were coming straight for his face.
Well, the howl of outrage was worth more than I'd imagined.
"Leave him alone, you bloody vulture!" A voice suddenly screeched. Flamestar fell backwards as a mangy ball of black fur nearly barreled into him before instantly regaining foot, standing between him and the tom, his claws poised for the dead center. There was terror in his eyes as he looked at Flamestar, scanning his body to ensure himself that he hadn't been hurt. Then Hollowheart turned his gaze back at the tom, eyes blazing. "Just what did you think you were doing?"
That was his best friend… was… still kind of is?
"I… I… we were asking some questions. No harm intended." The tom said, stuttering.
"No harm intended?" Hollowheart repeated, his brow twitching.
"He says what he means, Hollowheart." Flamestar spoke up. "Let's just get out of here."
Their eyes locked for a moment, before understanding seeped into Hollowheart's and he nodded in agreement. He looked at the tom with such intensity that all the bravado the brat had seeped right out of him. "You foul little twit, you have five heartbeats to leave with your friend before I make you wish it were rabid dogs on your tail." He hissed.
The tom didn't need to be told twice.
"You never gave me a head start when you started throwing your knuckles on me." Flamestar said almost indignantly.
That got the other one moving.
Left alone, they looked at each other. Hollowheart said, "You okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks." Flamestar said. He ducked his head slightly "And here I thought I'd give that brat what's for, huh?"
Hollowheart said nothing.
"I thought I had enough left for that at least."
Hollowheart's tail hovered over Flamestar's shoulders, before dropping down to the ground.
Flamestar opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, perhaps, but Hollowheart gave a slight shake of the head.
"Let's leave it at that, shall we?" He said, voice taut.
"I-"
"Let's leave the good memories at bay." He said. "Please."
"What do you mean?"
"I have a mother. A brother. A mate. Some friends, not much, but a few. I like what I have." Hollowheart scratched at the ground with his already scraggly claws. "I don't want to spoil anything. I don't want to be unhappy again."
"Oh." Flamestar said, as realization dawned on him.
He wasn't good.
He wasn't happy.
He couldn't make other cats happy.
What was he, then?
…
Flamestar unsheathed his claws and aimed his forepaw for the front of a rogue's nose. His paw connected with the bridge of the nose; the rogue screeched as blood ran down the side of his face in rivulets, the sound merging with the background yowls of a young kit.
Another tomcat lunged for him. Whipping around, Flamestar chopped the edge of his claws into his throat, the tom dropping to the ground, choking and sputtering. Flamestar stood over him, rubbing his paw. His plans of stamping out the rogue gang had turned out to be a failure – and now, the remnants of it had come back to nip him in the behind.
But it couldn't end like this, could it?
He had squared up to his enemy a thousand times over. His was a title that was expected to do so.
A speck of a shadow. His was a life that was meant to be lived as such.
A meaty palm slapped onto his shoulder. Flamestar knew this could go one of two ways. He spun, thinking he could catch the rogue in surprise, and put him in a headlock. Knowing he had to act quickly, he threw him to the ground. Turning around, he saw that Tempest also had her assailant in a headlock. She thrust a leg behind him and threw him to the ground, panting. For a moment, they met eyes. A tacit agreement was shared. It was either life, or death.
But it had to be life. He had to go back, by some means, by any means. He had to warn his clanmates, inform them of the situation, and then…
And then what?
Would he be able to see them again? See his friends and family, see Hollowheart?
The rogue sprang up again, blood dripping from the wound in his throat, and leapt forward. Unprepared, Flamestar recoiled to a strike to the jaw with a wince.
The truth was, deep down in his heart, he had always known that Hollowheart would have stuck with him until the very end. The reason he had been cruel to him despite that, had been because of fear. Fear that Hollowheart's world, full of enemies and dangers unbidden, would harm them all. Fear that Hollowheart was a better cat than him.
And because he knew that to be true, perhaps he had, just for a moment, wished for Hollowheart's corruption. That Hollowheart would paint himself black, that Goldensplash and the others would find out. But at the RiverClan border, when he saw Hollowheart again, when he looked into his eyes, Flamestar knew what he had known all along.
Hollowheart would always be ThunderClan's warrior.
Flamestar just barely managed to lurch away as the rogue struck again. All around him he could hear footfalls. He glanced to see more rogues pour into the clearing. A rogue with gray-green eyes shouted orders, and at that, the newcomers fanned themselves out to surround Flamestar and Tempest.
"You are outnumbered." The rogue said. "Admit to your defeat; kneel."
Flamestar remembered the time when ShadowClan had come charging to ThunderClan camp in a raging fleet, swearing revenge for the unsolicited attack that he had conducted with the other clan leaders. That was when he had told his clan to evacuate to their dens and gone to meet the fleet by himself. That was when he had kneeled, crouching low to the forest floor.
Maybe he had wanted to beg for forgiveness. Maybe, just like that, he had wanted to deceive them.
Because he knew that, if it ever came down to him once more, he would make the same choice, time and time again. Because he would never hesitate to make ruthless rulings when the world wanted him to.
Whatever he had wanted to tell ShadowClan, whether it be an apology or a word of deception, he never got to say.
For not even him could fathom out all the words – roaming in his head, in his innermost heart, on the tip of his tongue – until he was staring at the back of their heads, watching them walk away, leaving him in their mercy.
Finally, Flamestar spoke, gritting his teeth. "No."
The rogue laughed. "Must you fancy a ride?"
One of the newcomers joined in. "Tell Hollowheart that this is what he gets for befriending an enemy!"
"Sparrow, he won't be alive to do that."
"Oh, right."
The rogue raised his voice. "Rogues, attack!"
The kit's yowls were slowly fading now; whether it was because he was tired or because the rogues had gotten ahold of him Flamestar did not know.
Tempest threw him a quick, sorrowful look. "I hope your claws meet the enemy."
"Tempest-"
"And may your heart find home." She nodded at him and plunged into the battle, headfirst. Flamestar lowered his face into the shadows, flexed his claws. When he raised his head again, his face did not look so much of a coward's anymore.
As Flamestar fought, he desperately hoped that the kit would live. But more so, he hoped that if the kit was anything like him, his symphony wouldn't be like this. He hoped that, unlike himself, the kit would be able to recognize the faces of those who loved him. He hoped that the kit wouldn't have to wait until they tried to strip him of his pride and throw his victories away to see the ones who wanted him anyway. He hoped that the kit wouldn't promise the world to those who wanted it, but didn't deserve it. He hoped, deep in his heart, that the kit wasn't anything like him and would grow to be a naïve bravado, and then, a respectable warrior.
"Any last words?" The rogue said, gray-green eyes glinting as he held his claws to Flamestar's neck.
Flamestar looked behind him. There was the kit, and there was someone else running towards them, words on his tongue that he'd regret he never let loose as he ran, devouring the way but not quite fast enough for his best friend, and the kit who he would become a father for, for the sake of Flamestar at first, but at last, for what came with striving for the cats you loved – it was a hard, but a good hard. It was rewarding, it loved you, and in time, it was your son. And to protect Flamestar's legacy as it was, and because it was the right thing to do, his son would it remain.
If you are anything like me –
"Rabid dogs."
"What?"
"You'll wish it were rabid dogs instead."
– I am sorry, my son, my little storm of clouds.
His symphony became a requiem.
…
A sudden wind lifted me, and I spun, swallowed in a flume of colors. The sky seemed to pull in, until I could feel it touching my skin, until I could swear that I was looking straight into the lands of StarClan, a greenish firmament that went on forever. Then it shot away and exploded into dozens of stars.
I blinked. I was in ThunderClan camp again. An elderly couple whom neither of them I could name were sitting to my right, eating magpie; they took no notice of me. Other cats sat in clusters, sharing tongues; as Hollowheart did with Goldensplash and Lilacpond. None of them looked over when I rapped my tail on the ground and called for them. Two kits who looked like the smaller versions of Lynxspots and Milkwhisker chased each other around the clearing, their lips spread joyfully over scraggly teeth. My eyes moved along with them and froze on the cat who they nearly ran over.
What I had seen, I could not have seen.
I stood there for a long time. I heard the sound of paws pattering and words being traded. I smelled fresh-kill – mice and squirrel and birds. Those who were long dead or wizened in my time were all around, engaged with another, eating and talking and sharing tongues.
I moved haltingly, knowing what I was here to do, knowing why the memories hadn't stopped just yet, even though its owner was dead. I slowly walked towards the figure, who sat alone, hunched over, oblivious.
"Flamestar?" I whispered.
The tom could not hear me. I drew closer. "Flamestar. I know what happened now."
I felt a choke in my chest. I dropped to my knees alongside him. He was so close that I could see the whiskers on his face and its shriveled, frayed ends. I saw the heavy bags underneath his tired eyes, the bent nose, the bony knuckles and squared shoulders of a warrior, a leader.
"I didn't know, Flamestar."
I felt a shaking in my chest. Something was flushing out of me. "Sometimes, he shut me out. I didn't understand. I don't think I understand much of it still, but now I know. I know of your life, what happened." I drew in a long breath. "I didn't know before, okay? I didn't know you, and I still don't know him, and I will regret that to the end… as I do my life, as I do a lot of things. But you are my father, and I won't blame you for a life I laid up myself. I'll let it go, all right? All right? Can we let it go?"
I leaned in close, and spoke the last words in a whisper. "I will find a home. And I hope you do too, father."
I pounded at the ground, then slumped to it. When I looked up, I saw Hollowheart standing across the way, looking straight at me.