DARKNESS surrounded Sedgepaw. The riverside appeared monochromatic, for there was not a sliver of light to be seen. In the disappearance of the sun and moon, color was lost. The shadows of the pine trees and cypresses contorted upward instead of resting against the muddy shore, forming a black ribcage on either side of the running water. Sedgepaw gingerly stepped closer, opening her mouth to test the air for any signs of life. MarshClan's territory was deathly quiet, no scuttling prey in the reeds, no birdsong in the branches, no splashes in the water. The only sound came from Sedgepaw's heart, which was steadily beating faster.

This was not home. She wanted to run, but the sand that flanked the river cemented her paws into the ground. The muscles in her limbs rippled in vain for escape. When she opened her mouth to yowl for help, nothing left her throat. Swelling shadows engulfed her, and the swamp was pitch black; only the ghostly outlines of the foliage could be seen.

Panicked splashing resonated through the still swamp. Sedgepaw jerked her head around wildly, searching for whatever broke the dreadful silence. It echoed and faded before picking up again, only to echo and fade once more. It sounded like a wounded duck flapping against the current. Still immobile, Sedgepaw inhaled sharply when the river seemed to come towards her. Her periphery became a blur, and all she could perceive was the massive stream before her. It looked like the night sky was trapped in its watery abyss, holding the twinkling stars hostage.

Breaking from its surface, Sedgepaw cried out in surprise to see Vinestripe. His eyes were bulging from their sockets like two green buds about to burst in a bloody bloom. With his jaws agape in horror, only garbled caterwauls escape him. The brackish water flooded his mouth as he struggled against the weight of it. Sedgepaw likened the sight to mosquitos being flooded by tree sap, soon to be entombed in amber. Once in the midst of it, there was no means for escape. She was helpless to save her Clanmate as his skinny limbs flailed in the black waters, crying and wailing to no avail. Then, a cloud of red swelled beneath the surface, cocooning around Vinestripe's neck so that only his bobbing head remained visible. In the water, everything became red, and Sedgepaw exclaimed in horror when she realized it was blood, Vinestripe's blood. The blossoming gore dominated the entire river, consuming it in its scarlet miasma as Vinestripe's eyes rolled to the back of his skull, turning the sockets a milky white.

To Sedgepaw's horror, Vinestripe's lifeless body was not alone. Several cats' heads buoyed at the red river's surface now, but Sedgepaw could not recognize any of them. Their faces were petrified in permanent expressions of terror, and they floated passed Sedgepaw downstream into the void. Their eyes held bulging white eggs with branches of angry red blood vessels for nests. It was evident their last living moments were unpleasant.

"Sedgepaw," they whispered from motionless mouths. "Help us."

The echo of their plea rattled her bones. Sedgepaw could not even extend a paw towards them to bring their bodies ashore. She was frozen, useless, hopeless.

"Sedgepaw, Sedgepaw, Sedgepaw."

Sedgepaw squeezed her eyes shut, trying to drown out their repetitive imploring with her frightened protests, but she could not articulate anything more than garbled screams. Where am I? Take me home! I want to be in MarshClan!

"Sedgepaw!" She felt herself falling from the sandy bank, into the darkness. "Sedgepaw!"

Shaken from the monochrome forest and its bloody river, Sedgepaw now stared at the displeased face of her denmate, Ospreypaw. Her yellow eyes glinted with concern, but her voice remained deadpan. "You've been in here all morning, tossing and turning like a worm being mauled by ants."

Sedgepaw sat up with a groan. "I feel like a worm that's been mauled by ants," she admitted. Every muscle beneath her pelt ached. She was stiff from nose to tail-tip, but the images of her nightmare were the most unbearable.

"Well, snap out of it," Ospreypaw grunted. The black patches of fur beneath her yellow eyes rose when she offered an apologetic smile after being so blunt. "Whitestar called a gathering. There's a ceremony going on," she explained with an inkling more patience.

"Ceremony?" Sedgepaw yawned. Her mind was in a fog, and she could not surmise for who or what the ceremony would be for.

"Did I stutter?" Ospreypaw never stuttered, but Sedgepaw shrugged as if uncertain. She could hear her friend give a huff of annoyance. "Lilykit and Pebblekit are having their apprentice ceremony this morning, remember?"

Sedgepaw pondered, trying to recall the news. All her thoughts were occupied by images of bodies in the river. Their strangled expressions. Vinestripe's screams. Memory of a simple ceremony was drowned by a bloody current.

"Sedgepaw," Ospreypaw pressed, "do you need to see Redleaf? You're acting strange."

"No-no, it's nothing, Ospreypaw," she assured her. "Let's go watch the ceremony." Seeing the medicine cat was the last thing she wanted to do; if she told Redleaf of the pictures in her head, he would condemn her to bed rest for eternity. An insane warrior was a useless warrior.

Ospreypaw squinted her eyes at Sedgepaw with uncertainty before leaving the den. Sedgepaw followed that black tail into the sunlight where the scent of her gathered Clan nearly drowned out the aroma of blossoming flowers and evaporating dew drops. The morning air was sweet and warm, and there was no pandemonium. Everyone conversed with giddiness at the upcoming event; they twittered like the birds in the trees, surrounding the two kits that sat before the Fallen Cypress where Vinestripe was condemned the night before. Sedgepaw wondered if the stains from his bloodied haunches still remained on the grass. She could feel her insides churn at the realization that her Clan carried on as if they did not just exile one of their respected Clanmates on the same spot that they were about to venerate new apprentices. It's like it never happened...

Ospreypaw took a seat near the nursery, where the buttonbush shrubs skirted a large cypress. The tree's shadow presided over a portion of the clearing with its formidable height and Sedgepaw sat in it, happy to escape the brightness of the morning sun. The spiny white blossoms of the shrubs complimented the sweet scent of milk escaping the between the branches of the cypress. Sedgepaw was comforted by the nostalgia the wafting aroma carried, but it was not enough to soothe her anxiety. That dream had to mean something, but what? Ugh, why me?

Whitestar took her place on the Fallen Cypress, raising her tail for silence. At the foot of the stump, where the spongy green moss bloomed, sat her deputy, Spiderfang; his amber eyes were alight with determination… and some other emotion Sedgepaw could not identify. In the clearing sat two small kits, and Sedgepaw gave a snort. They were a puny lot considering their age. She took pride in being one of the largest apprentices; no one ever dared to trifle with her, except for mousebrained Mudpaw. Still, her intimidating size did not erase all sense of fright from her; she could still feel her heart race at the thought of being beside the bloody river again.

"Lilykit's nose is so high." Ospreypaw observed with twitching whiskers. "It may grow wings and fly off if she keeps it up."

Sedgepaw made a scoffing noise. "And her littermate is quivering in his fur." The little gray tomcat looked like he wanted to shake the darker dapples on his fur off with all his shivering. "I could squish these two rookies between my paws like nothing," she boasted, curling her white toes with pride.

"And Dewpelt will squish you in return," Ospreypaw replied wryly. "I would rather jump into an alligator's jaws than mess with her kits."

"I bet Spiderfang pushed for their ceremony to come early," Sedgepaw gossiped, her ears swivelling slyly. "Dewpelt's kits are still only five moons old, after all. He's been going on and on about needing more warriors since she birthed them."

Sedgepaw was so consumed with her gossip that she failed to realize the Clan fell silent. Though she kept her whispers conspiratorially low, she did not evade Whitestar's scornful glare. With all eyes on her, she dipped her head with a nervous snicker, rasping her tongue bashfully over her chest. Ospreypaw shook her head, a small smile on her face, and Sedgepaw knew she would salt her wound later. She could feel her heart sink when she realized Batface would scorn her for her lack of politeness as well. The day already had a rotten start.

"Now that I have the Clan's full attention," Whitestar began pointedly, "we can begin the ceremony."

With the two kits ruminating with anticipation, Sedgepaw remembered her own ceremony. She and her littermates could barely contain their excitement. The idea of finally serving her Clan ignited a flame in her heart that still burned. Every word and formality was fresh in Sedgepaw's memory, as if it happened the day prior.

"The desire to achieve, the ambition to succeed, these are the traits of a warrior," Sedgepaw whispered the ceremony's preface in unison with Whitestar. "MarshClan thrives on the will of its members to serve the stars, protect the code, and defend our livelihood."

Sedgepaw sighed heavily, for the weight of her responsibility did not become clear until she saw her first trial. Never before had she considered that condemning Fallen was a part of her duty to MarshClan. She tried to ignore the quiver in her burning passion for her Clan; it was a necessary evil, she tried to convince herself. MarshClan could only survive if it remained in the good graces of StarClan.

"Lilykit, Pebblekit, from this day until the consummation of your warrior ceremony, you will learn our ways and uphold our beliefs with every fiber of your being. You will learn to wield your strength and execute your knowledge in the name of MarshClan."

From the crowd of gathered MarshClan cats, Sedgepaw noticed the sleek brown pelt of Snakefang and the golden brown tabby fur of Mothfur separate from the mass of cats. Snakefang had his nose in the air, as usual, and he stood before trembling Pebblekit with critical amber eyes. Sedgepaw tried to stifle her snicker in vain, for Pebblekit shrivelled like a worm in the sunlight beneath Snakefang's glare. As for Mothfur, he strode towards Lilykit with solemnity on his broad face. Sedgepaw wondered why such a brooding, unenthusiastic warrior would be chosen for a mentor. Lilykit met Mothfur's stare with a grin of certainty, and Sedgepaw tried to ignore her growing dislike for the cheeky new apprentice.

"Mothfur," Whitestar began, "you have long served our Clan with dignity, and your practiced pride is a trait to be admired. Therefore, I charge you with Lilykit's training in hopes of you bestowing your wisdom and noble determination onto MarshClan's new apprentice."

Mothfur bowed his head before inclining towards Lilykit to rest his chin on her head. In turn, she rasped her tongue across his shoulder, sealing the bond of warrior and apprentice.

"Snakefang," Whitestar started again, "though you are still a young warrior, you continuously serve our Clan with zeal, and your enthusiasm for the Code and our ways is a trait to be admired. Therefore, I charge you with Pebblekit's training in hopes of you bestowing your ardor and undying loyalty onto MarshClan's new apprentice."

Snakefang nodded. "Of course, Whitestar." He inclined his head to rest on Pebblekit's head. The little dappled gray tom hesitated before rasping his tongue across his shoulder.

"Now that Lilykit and Pebblekit have accepted their mentors, I hereby pronounce them Lilypaw and Pebblepaw!" Whitestar announced happily. Sedgepaw was taken back by the austere leader's uncharacteristic delight. "MarshClan, let us cheer for our newest apprentices and wish them good tidings for their training to come!"

"Lilypaw! Pebblepaw! Lilypaw! Pebblepaw!" The chorus of cheers drowned out the morning's birdsong. Sedgepaw joined in with the others, applauding the new apprentices despite her misgivings. "Lilypaw! Pebblepaw! Lilypaw! Pebblepaw!"

However, Sedgepaw noticed a particularly silent Clanmate. Just as she had stood out the night before, she stood out in the daylight. Blueflower's blue gray fur was just as luminous under the sun, and her bright blue eyes, they were downcast once more. She did not cheer for the apprentices, instead, her eyes averted the crowd of rejoicing Clan cats. She was watching the sky, looking for something amongst the wispy white clouds. Sedgepaw frowned, concerned, but her abruptly glanced away when Blueflower's enigmatic blue eyes turned to her.

"What are you gawking at?" Ospreypaw wondered, sounding annoyed. "Shouldn't you be cheering with the rest of us?"

Sedgepaw gave a snort. "I thought I saw a butterfly." Her reply was nearly drowned out by the applauding cats around them.

Ospreypaw shook her head, her mouth becoming slant with her lack of amusement. "How interesting. Did it wave at you as it fluttered by?" she asked sardonically.

"No, it was too busy staring at the cranky she-cat sitting beside me." Sedgepaw joked.

Ospreypaw remained unamused and rolled her stormy yellow eyes. Sedgepaw leaned against her friend with a goofy smile on her face, trying to perk up her perpetually bitter Clanmate. While most cats were averse to spending time with Ospreypaw, for she always looked like she just swallowed bile and had the attitude to boot, Sedgepaw found her charming beneath that prickly black and white pelt. Ospreypaw glanced at Sedgepaw, giving her a ghost of a smirk before shoving her back.

"Get off me, you big lug."

Sedgepaw laughed and shoved her back, and Ospreypaw responded with another in retaliation. Before long, the two were locked in a wrestle, each trying to knock the other over. Sedgepaw cracked a broad grin when she realized she coerced laughter from Ospreypaw in their jostling. The fun ended prematurely, however, for Batface's shadow loomed over the apprentices and he cleared his gravelly throat.

"Play time's over, apprentices," he decided. His short, black tail lashed impatiently, and the pensive gleam of his amber eyes threatened to burn a hole in Sedgepaw's mottled brown fur.

Sedgepaw untangled herself from Ospreypaw with a huff. Her long fur stuck out at various angles like ruffled feathers, and she gazed at her mentor bashfully. "Of course, Batface." I'd be a mousebrain to think play time wouldn't be over with you around… She thought grudgingly.

Beside him, Molefoot was smirking at the two apprentices. The grizzled black cat looked like they wanted to join in on the tussling, but conceded to Batface's seriousness with a stern nod. "It's time for our morning routine, Ospreypaw."

"Since you two are paired, we'll be training together today," Batface explained.

Sedgepaw nodded, acknowledging the fact that paired apprentices often train together, building off each other's strengths and weaknesses. It was the best way to train hard and learn fast, but Sedgepaw always loathed paired training days; Ospreypaw was faster and more agile than she, and if the day began with a race, Sedgepaw knew she was already beat. Glancing behind the two mentors, Sedgepaw noticed her littermates Yewpaw and Mudpaw joining their pairs. Mudpaw hopped alongside the waddling Toadpaw, jabbering like a jackdaw. Yewpaw and Blackpaw were leaving camp, their pelts brushing, and Sedgepaw wrinkled her nose at the thought of Yewpaw spending the day with Blackpaw. The only thing he'll be training is his pick-up lines.

"This way," Batface urged. "We're wasting daylight."

Molefoot stretched their short legs, which were noticeably ticked with odd white patches of fur, too thin to be considered spots. A loud yawn escaped them. "Don't put too much pressure on them, Batface," they warned. "Apprentices should learn to enjoy their training."

Smiling, Sedgepaw nodded at the warrior in agreement. If only she had them as her mentor. They was always carefree and warmhearted, unlike the bossy, moody Batface. Her ears flattened when she heard Batface's retort.

"Nothing is enjoyable about training. It is meant to be diligent and challenging. Being a warrior is not a game."

When Sedgepaw noticed Ospreypaw nodding in agreement she grumbled at her under her breath, "Don't encourage him."

Ospreypaw frowned, but said no more as they approached the boundary of reeds and maidencane surrounding the camp. Batface pushed through first, looking like a shadow melting into the pale green and yellow stalks. Sedgepaw let Ospreypaw dive in after him, uneager to follow too close behind her mentor. He seemed grumpier than usual. Molefoot hesitated before the reeds, which whistled invitingly at them to venture into their depths. They turned to Sedgepaw, smiling as he pressed his nose to her ear.

"Don't mind Batface," they murmured. "He means well."

"He has a rotten way of showing it," Sedgepaw replied resentfully.

"You will probably be his last apprentice. You're his legacy."

Sedgepaw's golden eyes became wide as the moon. "No pressure."

Molefoot gave a chuckle, whiskers twitching. "You'll make him proud, I know it. You'll make all of us proud."

Feeling rejuvenated, Sedgepaw went after Batface and Ospreypaw into the reeds. She could hear Molefoot tail her, and together they snaked through the jungle of maidencane. It combed through her pelt, stealing some fur on her way out. When she burst into the marshy grass that surrounded the camp, Batface and Ospreypaw were already running through the palmettos. Molefoot rustled from the reeds to stand beside her, and Sedgepaw saw a twinkle in their eye.

"Let's catch up!" the warrior chirped.

Bursting into a sprint, Sedgepaw kicked up clods of mud in her wake. It splattered against her long pelt, and she became a darker shade of brown. Batface led the charge, his tail standing straight like a flag. Ospreypaw dashed through the palmettos effortlessly, and Sedgepaw struggled to keep pace with her friend. The thick muscles beneath her pelt felt heavy as they rippled, carrying her with endurance in mind rather than speed. Molefoot brought up the rear purposefully, keeping a wary eye out for danger from behind. They skirted the pine forest that hugged the winding river, heading south where the cypress trees ruled alongside vast oaks and birches, which stood tall amongst the bog. The remnants of dawn's fog filtered through the varying trunks of foliage, carrying the pungent odor of prey and rich soil.

Batface halted before the massive swamp, gazing in silence. Sedgepaw struggled to catch her breath beside him, her ears perking with surprise when she heard him wheezing. The echo of Molefoot's words rang in her head. You will probably be his last apprentice. When he returned her stare, she offered him a small smile that he did not return. Sedgepaw ducked her head and sighed. If she truly was his legacy, he did not seem thrilled by the notion. Wrinkling her nose, she decided the feeling was mutual.

Molefoot and Ospreypaw were beside each other, staring into the foggy swamp. Sedgepaw stole a glance at the two, listening to the warrior's words of wisdom. She could hear them educating her about the perils of navigating the swamp, and they broke off into a tangent about wrestling with a snapping turtle. Sedgepaw stared at her white paws, squishing her toes into the mud in a pout. She longed for a relationship like that with Batface, one where they could converse without descending into an argument.

"Snakefang and Mothfur will join us soon," Batface mentioned as he approached the shadows of the swamp. "They'll bring the new apprentices to observe you two."

"You both are performing well in your training, so Whitestar thought it best for Lilypaw and Pebblepaw to see you in action."

Raising her chin, Sedgepaw felt her heart swell. This was her chance! She would show Batface how much she learned. With a gleam in her amber eyes, she darted forward. "Let's go then! No time to waste, right, Batface?" Her giddy laughter drowned out his protests as she overran his lead.

"Wait for me, mousebrain!" Ospreypaw called after her.

With her Clanmates' echoing voices behind her, Sedgepaw led the way to the Training Gully. Ivy tangled at her paws, hiding the forgotten fallen leaves that descended from the ancient oak tree branches. Ospreypaw's distant protests bounced off the dense oak trunks and rattled through the birches, but Sedgepaw was deaf to them. The ivy thickened at her paws and the potent aroma of the golden flowers that blossomed from it wafted in the humid air. However, there was another offensive scent that clashed with the bloom. A rank stench of rotting flesh ready to peel from bone was becoming more prominent with each step; Sedgepaw opened her mouth, wondering where the putrid odor could be coming from. Perhaps a coyote abandoned their kill?

No, it was not carrion that harbored this odor. Sedgepaw skidded to a halt, for before her was a skinny brown tomcat with swirling dark stripes and pale green eyes that seemed to glow. "Vinestripe!" Sedgepaw's exclaimation was strangled with fear.

Vinestripe did not reply, instead, he wordlessly stood amongst the carpet of vines and their bright flowers. His eyes seemed to stare through Sedgepaw, looking into the distance expressionlessly. His face was vacant, and he reeked of death. Sedgepaw gingerly stepped closer to him.

"You-you can't be here anymore," she warned. "You're Fallen." Sedgepaw knew what she had to do. It was her duty as a MarshClan cat to chase him off their land. He was no longer welcome here. Unsheathing her claws, she felt her stomach twist into knots like the vines at her paws. "You must go, now." She tried to sound firm, but her heart was racing. The memory of her nightmare was still fresh in her mind.

The Fallen tomcat was plagued by silence. His eyes were clouded over, foggy. Sedgepaw realized he was not even acknowledging her warning. She felt her face burn with embarrassment. He was not threatened by her at all! With bristling fur, she took another step closer, trying to suppress the impulse to gag at the rotten smell coming off of his wet fur… Wait, wet fur? Sedgepaw blinked slowly. Vinestripe's pelt was dark, waterlogged, and she realized droplets of water slid off his whiskers. She pushed back the images of her nightmare. The sight of his body floating down a red river charred her brain of all rationality. Then, she gasped when she saw the scarlet grin on his neck, which shedded rivulets of blood.

"You're hurt! Who did this?" Sedgepaw gasped. She turned her head, wary of her Clanmates finding her with a Fallen. Sedgepaw knew Vinestripe would have to leave before they came, or they would certainly give him more wounds to lick. "Listen," she growled. "You're already bleeding… badly. If I fight you, I'll kill you." Sedgepaw knew Vinestripe was a seasoned warrior, but he looked fatigued and weak. "Get out now, or I'll have no choice."

Vinestripe's wound gushed, and Sedgepaw took a step back in shock. The tomcat opened his mouth to gurgle an inaudible reply, before turning and running off into the woods. Sedgepaw was breathing heavily as the Fallen disappeared into the woods. Beads of red tainted the golden petals, leaving a trail of blood for her to follow. There was no way he could survive his injury. Sedgepaw was frozen, stuck with the choice to remain in the clearing or follow the wounded Fallen.

"Wait!" she hollered after him. Sedgepaw had to make sure he left their territory. It was her responsibility, after all. No, it was more than that. She had to make sure he was okay. How did he acquire such a morbid injury? "Vinestripe!"

A glimpse of his tail slithering around the broad trunk of an oak tree allowed Sedgepaw to keep track of his escape. The dimples of his pawprints into the soft soil were coupled with droplets of blood. The climbing ivy that hugged the oak trees bore red-stained leaves and the scent of death lingered. Sedgepaw felt the burn of panic in her veins, but she did not falter in her chase. She needed answers. Tearing through the tangles of undergrowth, she could feel her long fur snag against the branches. All she cared for, however, was locating the wounded tomcat.

"Vinestripe!" she called out to him again in vain. The only response was the distant cries of sandhill cranes.

Sedgepaw felt her legs burn as her pursuit led her uphill. She weaved through the knees of the cypress trees, which jutted from the soil like jagged teeth. At the crown of the slope, she caught a flicker of Vinestripe's tabby pelt venturing over the edge. Her amber eyes widened in fear at the thought of losing him. Unable to muster the breath to cry out to him, Sedgepaw's uneven gulps of breath were drowned out by the racket of a loud splash.

"No!" she screeched.

Sedgepaw burst onto the crest of the hill, which overlooked the river that ran its course through her territory. Its current was unforgiving against the stones that sat in its depths; fiercely, it splashed into rageful rapids that threatened to swallow anything unlucky enough to hit its surface. Sedgepaw's eyes glanced desperately across the rabid water, which frothed white in its fervent run. The ripple of Vinestripe's collapse vanished just before the rocks greeted the river. His body did not resurface.

"Vinestripe!" Sedgepaw yowled above the river's roar.

Bowing her head, she felt the pressure of her nightmare collapse on her shoulders. It replayed in her head over, and over, and over again. The shiver in her paws was minute, but it conveyed her inner feelings of helplessness. She could not save him in the trial, she could not save him now. No wonder Batface hates me… I can't do anything right.

It was the feeling of being watched that pulled Sedgepaw out of the cloud of remorse that hovered over her. Jerking her head up, she noticed a cat on the other side of the riverbank. It was a cat she did not recognize with eyes so pale green they seemed unreal and a pelt of muddy brown. Sedgepaw narrowed her eyes, stepping towards the edge of the hill where it dropped into a sheer cliff, wanting a closer look at this strange cat. She could not pick up a scent that identified the onlooker, all she could taste was the sharpness of mint and freshwater. The cat blinked slowly up at her, but Sedgepaw could only focus on the mess of scars criss-crossing across their shoulders. This cat went through an awful fight, but lived.

The cat spoke to her from across the river, but their voice failed to carry up over the rapids to her. Sedgepaw could only read their lips, which articulated the message flawlessly: "There are bodies in this water."