THUNDER boomed above, but Sedgepaw was undeterred as she waded through the marsh towards the cypress forest. Lightning flashed, white hot, crackling through the sky with a hiss, threatening to split the heavy storm clouds in two. The rainy season had arrived, and it paraded through MarshClan with a menagerie of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning.
As it poured, Sedgepaw was slowed by the onslaught of rainfall. She had to squint to see the tree line, where the cypress branches were stripped of their wigs of moss and a mess of leaves twirled midair at the mercy of the gusts. Everything appeared dark. Sedgepaw began to wonder if her pursuit was a mistake… but she knew in the back of her mind it was too late to turn tail.
Lightning splintered the sky once more, followed by a roar of thunder. Sedgepaw broke into a sprint as the marsh thinned. She splashed peat against her pelt adding new stripes of muck to her dark brown tabby fur. Trawling herself further and further, when she finally set foot on solid earth, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Hurrying into the cover of the cypress forest, Sedgepaw was shielded from the downpour. Panting, she flinched as more lightning flashed, becoming more fierce as she travelled further and further from the safety of camp. No matter the cost, she had to find the Fallen. Her medicine cat, her leader, the elders, even her mother shielded the truth from her. If anyone was willing to share the secrets of MarshClan, it was those condemned for not keeping them.
Slithering between the cypress knees that jutted from the tender earth and leaf rot, Sedgepaw knew it would not be long before she reached the border. Hopping over ferns and ducking below myrtle bushes, Sedgepaw was able to peer through the canopy of pine and cypress branches to see the Great Cypress standing above the rest, daring to stretch its branches out towards the angry sky.
Sliding down the slope, the sodden pine needles clumped at her paws as she approached the ledge where she first spotted the mysterious pale brown tabby. Though she doubted her memory after the fall, revisiting the spot she first witnessed them only reignited her certainty. How could she forget those nearly translucent pale green eyes? Sedgepaw followed the ledge as it descended closer towards the river.
The rain was slowing now, only a few teardrops were shed from the storm clouds heavy lids. It appeared the heavens' tantrum was petering out. Distant thunder echoed through the forest, only a faint memory of what it was. By the time Sedgepaw reached the river border, the storm stopped. All that remained was an occasional gust of wind to ruffle Sedgepaw's long fur. Staring across the river, she felt her heart flutter. She never crossed the border before. What if she never came back?
In her hesitation, Sedgepaw nearly failed to hear the pawsteps of a patrol approaching. She dove for the nearest swathe of reeds, cursing under her breath. Her golden eyes gleamed with frustration as she peered through the broad leaves of duck potato to see a patrol consisting of Littlebrook, Snakefang, Kiteclaw, and—Sedgepaw groaned internally—Batface.
"That was some storm!" Littlebrook chirped, shaking her dappled pelt with a giggle, showering the patrol with water.
"Focus," Kiteclaw hissed, squinting as droplets splashed against her narrow face. "We're near the border. Keep your wits about you."
"Roger that, Kiteclaw," Snakefang growled, following the patrol captain's lead. His unblinking, amber gaze skimmed the border intently.
Sedgepaw started to back away, but her paw grated the pebbles wedged between the reeds. She stiffened as the entire patrol perked their ears. Heart thundering louder than the storm, she feared she was done for.
"What was that?" Snakefang growled.
"Likely a frog plopping along," Batface assured the younger warrior.
When Kiteclaw nodded in agreement, Sedgepaw relaxed. Thankfully, the bog from the marsh and rain from the storm seemed to disguise her scent.
"I'll stay behind to investigate," Batface decided. His tail swished dismissively. "I'll meet you at the end of the border."
Damn… Sedgepaw curled her lip in frustration.
"Batface, I don't think that's a good idea," Kiteclaw mewed. "There's a potential killer on the loose. We should remain a single unit."
Yes! Sedgepaw's ears perked. Kiteclaw had a point. MarshClan had a warrior blinded and another lost; it was not a good time to split up. She smirked smugly.
"Whitestar may have made you captain of this patrol, but do not forget my seniority; I have seen more than you're even capable of comprehending," Batface growled. "As the most experienced, it would only make sense to let me stay behind to investigate strange noises and scents while you take the younger warriors on the routine path. I can handle myself… unless you doubt my strength?"
"My apologies, Batface." Though her words were apologetic, her amber eyes were steely as she regarded Batface with a tight-lipped frown. "I'll leave you to it."
As the patrol went about their watch, Batface stood fast, appearing like a dark statue along the shoreline of the river. A shadow frozen in time. The rushing current, which swelled after the rainfall, drowned out the ambient noise of the forest, but above it all Sedgepaw could hear her heart beating. The glare in Batface's orange eyes alerted her to his keen senses, and when his ears swiveled to catch the slightest noise, she winced. He was searching… Her muscles tensed when he broke from his statuesque posture, walking forward until he was out of sight.
Silence fell. Glancing fervently between the reeds, Sedgepaw failed to see where her mentor went. Parting her lips, she tasted the air; only the scents of the patrol were mixed with his, unless he ventured downwind. Sedgepaw could feel him staring, though, and she was desperate to find him.
"It's dangerous to be outside of camp alone." Batface's voice rumbled through the reeds, causing Sedgepaw to burst from her hiding spot with a surprised hiss.
"Batface?" She turned, glaring into the cluster of reeds where she knew he resided. "Why didn't you just call me out instead of sneaking up on me like that?"
"I think it's time you became intimately familiar with the dangers of warrior life," Batface growled, seeping out from between the reeds like a cloud of smoke. "Follow me to the shore."
Not having much choice, Sedgepaw trailed after her mentor, pushing through the reeds to standing in the damp sand of the shoreline. She watched the water rush by, leaving a haze of mist as it passed. The river border she wanted to cross seemed so far away now, but it would only take a few pawsteps for her to reach the other side and gain the answers she sought after.
Batface stood before her, his back still facing her, and slowly tilted his head to glance back at the apprentice. "I realize I have failed you," he began. "When I detected your scent today, I understood how painfully vulnerable I've left you." He began to walk towards the flora that encircled them. "If I had been an enemy, I could've killed you easily."
"But—" Unable to protest, Sedgepaw was forced into silence as Batface slowly melted with the shadows, stealthily becoming one with their surroundings in a heartbeat.
"The knowledge I am about to give you is dangerous," Batface rasped, voice emanating from the cover of the reeds. "It may be your boon or your doom, but you cannot be ignorant of it if you're going to have a shot at surviving."
"What is it?" Sedgepaw was breathless. Perhaps she would get some answers?
"The capacity to kill."
"Wh—what?" Sedgepaw froze.
"Kill or be killed." Batface's rasping voice was omnipresent. Sedgepaw could feel him circling, just out of sight, eyeing her from the shadows. "That's the kind of world we live in, Sedgepaw."
"I know that," she snapped, tail lashing. "Now, show yourself and fight me! That's what this is about, right? Just come out and let me prove myself!"
There was only a faint rustle in the reeds or the sound of a steady, practiced breath that betrayed Batface's location; as soon as Sedgepaw's eyes flickered to the source of the noise, another one startled her from behind. Snapping twigs, shivering leaves, soft growls… they surrounded her. Claws could rake down her back. Her neck could be braced in a lethal bite. Eyes gouged out. Ear ripped. Tail snapped. Adrenaline flooded her bloodstream, pumping electricity into every inch of her body. The once whimsical cricket song became shrill, and the trilling of frogs sounded like a siren. The swamp became a livewire, charging Sedgepaw for her eventual attack.
"You know what it takes to be a warrior, but not what it means." Batface's voices echoed abysmally. "You think killing is so easy?"
"Come out, and I'll show you how easy it is," she jested.
"You don't make cuts just to watch the blood flow," Batface hissed. "When you go for the kill, you have to be careful and precise; one wrong move, and you'll be the one getting buried."
Sedgepaw flexed her claws. Batface never discussed killing in his combat teachings before. She was in unfamiliar territory, but she was hungry to learn. Her muscles ached for the fight, and her mind pumped through each word her mentor spouted, thirsting for more to fuel her thoughts.
"There are three types of killers: sloppy, angry, and keen," Batface continued. "Unfortunately…" A sigh rustled from the reeds. "Unfortunately, you will likely encounter them all before you retire."
Coming face to face with a killer seemed unreal to Sedgepaw. She could only imagine a shadowy silhouette with blood red eyes and dripping fangs. A figment of a night terror. And yet, she knew she lived amongst killers in her Clan. It was a warrior's duty to protect their own, no matter the cost…
"Sloppy killers… Their movements are so erratic and untrained, they kill out of happenstance. Sloppy killers make a mess of their victims and themselves." Batface's voice seemed to be getting closer. "Out of sheer luck, they succeed. However, they can be just as dangerous as any other killer. Why?"
Sedgepaw imagined a lifeless, mangled body. Blood was splattered across the earth and across the face of the perpetrator. Their eyes were wide with horror, and their breathing fluttered like a broken bird wing.
"Because… they're scared?" she guessed.
"Correct! And what makes a scared cat dangerous?"
"They're unpredictable," she decided, sounding confident. "They act out of fear, so they have no control."
"Excellent…" Batface's voice became ghostly as it grew more distant. Sedgepaw's ears swiveled to catch each vowel he uttered. "And that brings us to the next type of killer: the angry."
"They're acting out of rage," Sedgepaw piped up. "Maybe vengeance or protectiveness."
"Correct… but you answered a question I didn't ask." There was a growl in his throat. "How do you think an angry killer attacks?"
"With… rage?" Sedgepaw chuckled uneasily.
"To be specific," Batface grumbled. "They go for where it hurts. Angry killers wish to inflict pain on their victims; they want to watch them writhe and relish the tortured look plastered on their dead faces."
The thought of encountering an angry killer sent a chill down her spine. "So they go for… the belly?"
"That's one sensitive area, yes. They also target the face, especially the eyes, lips, and ears." Batface's voice suddenly became apparent from behind Sedgepaw, she whirled around to face him, fur bristling. He continued to speak, voice just above a whisper, his orange eyes were glowing with eerie intensity. "Most victims of an angry killer will bleed out without needing a final blow." Batface's rasping voice deepened. "They will land strike after strike, wanting to bludgeon every inch of their foe… This is when killing gets personal."
Sedgepaw took a step back, claws unsheathed. She did not trust the peculiar gleam in her mentor's eye. "And keen killers?" she pressed.
"A keen killer is precise; they go in knowing their intentions and owning their tactics. Emotion does not play a role in this. No fear, anger, or panic… A keen killer is calm and recognizes their job: to permanently eliminate the enemy."
Batface closed the distance between them, bringing an unsheathed claw to Sedgepaw's throat. She froze under his touch. She could feel her pulse growing stronger and more rapid as the back of Batface's claw pressed into her jugular.
"A swift, clean kill is achieved by going straight for the throat. Imagine painting a smile across your opponent's neck," Batface instructed, voice lowered.
"How could you even aim that precisely?" Sedgepaw wondered, swallowing loudly when Batface failed to remove his claw from her tremoring pulse.
"Intent. You need to pin your opponent or come at them from behind; as the attacker, you have to plan ahead and know exactly what you need to do and how, so when the time comes, there's no room for error." He paused, raking his eyes over Sedgepaw. "If you're confident in your pain tolerance, you can go for a bite to the throat, but then you risk injury by placing yourself close to the victim for too long."
"Why would I even need to kill?" Sedgepaw scoffed. "Our only enemies are the Fallen, and they rarely bother us."
"Don't underestimate them," Batface warned. "They received the same training you are getting now, and they bare grudges. Never doubt their capabilities."
"Understood," Sedgepaw murmured. When Batface's claw finally left her throat, she could breathe easy. "So… when would I need to kill?"
"Killing should only be a last resort," Batface replied coldly. "When you take someone's life… everything changes. Unless given the order to do so, you should only kill if you absolutely have to."
Nodding, Sedgepaw flexed her claws, staring at her paw with a frown. In her dream, her paw, her chest, her face were all soaked in blood. The reflection of herself in the water seemed cool and collected. But the message the entity from her dream muttered… it still dumbfounded her. Was she really meant to spill blood? Curling her claws, Sedgepaw returned her paw to the ground with a sigh. If it was her duty, she would.
"Your final test is approaching," Batface continued. "Before long, I will not be there to cover up your mistakes. I need to be certain you're ready." Voice dropping an octave, the growl that followed his words bled into what he spoke.
Hearing the faint click of his claws against the ground, Sedgepaw's eyes flashed. Muscles wound tight, she could feel them ripple beneath her pelt as she rocked her shoulders. This was her chance to finally prove to Batface that she was ready.
"During your test day, you will be pitted against another apprentice, and you will fight with claws unsheathed," he explained, black fur slowly beginning to bristle. "Today, I will fight against you in the same manner."
Nodding solemnly, Sedgepaw felt her nerves tingle. This would be the closest thing to a real fight she's gotten in her six moons of training. By the next full moon, the thirteenth moon of her life, she would be a warrior… But only if Batface allows her to test. Her career, her life, her pride were at stake. I will not lose, she decided.
The two cats began to circle each other. Only the roar of the river could be heard, and fog began to roll off the rushing water onto shore, shrouding them in a haze of gray. Sedgepaw waited, not wanting to make the first move. Her tail lashed as she challenged her mentor with a goading hiss, golden eyes alite like a flame. Batface returned the hiss. In a flash of black, he lunged for Sedgepaw's legs, but she sprang out of reach. She knew he would try to slow her down again. She was ready.
Now that she stood behind him, she raked her claws down his back. Blood freckled her face. She was stunned by the stench and how warm it felt as it blotted against her fur. Batface took advantage of her shock and turned on her, quickly locking his fangs into her shoulder. The initial impact stung like a barrage of wasp stings, and as he dug his claws into her side, she screeched in rage as the pain assaulted her. She had to get him off. At first she shook, swinging her body to try and loosen his grip. He only clung tighter like a tick clinging to its last meal. She screeched in rage. There had to be a way. When she realized how he was able to clutch her broad shoulder without hanging off, she realized: he was smaller than her.
Trumping him in size, when she rolled to her side to crush him as he clung to her, she felt the air wheeze out of him under her weight. Seeing her mentor stunned, she lunged like a viper, striking him with her fangs against his chest and shoulders. Batface hissed in pain and kicked his legs out, clipping Sedgepaw's jaw with his back claws. She stepped back, not wanting those vicious claws to rake her eyes.
Rising to his paws, Batface growled. Despite his age, Sedgepaw could see the light of fight in his eyes. She knew he would not last as long as she, however. Faking him out, she made it seem like she would swipe at his side only to bring her other claw against his shoulder. He stole the opportunity to swipe at her cheek as she leaned in to land her blow. Their exchange of slashes caused their blood to spatter against the sand, and as time passed Sedgepaw became immune to its stench.
The adrenaline that flooded her veins set the world on fire. Everything seemed brighter, hotter, more dangerous. Batface's claws slashed through the air with a whistle, nearly cutting her ear, and she ducked to avoid him. In a flash of black, he sprung onto her back and sunk his claws into her. Sedgepaw roared and knew better than to try and shake him off again. Instead, she rolled onto her back, only her mentor thought better and jumped off before she hit the ground. Clouds of sound swarmed around her upon impact, and she did not have the time to stand before Batface was on top of her, free to scratch at her face and shoulders and bite at her neck.
In a panic, Sedgepaw reached for his shoulders awkwardly, getting him in her clutches. She knew she could not let him flee from her attack again. He was too fast. She had to hold him still if she was going to stand a chance. As she held him, she kicked her hind legs to land blow after blow against his soft belly. Batface hissed, spit and blood raining down on her face as he jerked his head back in agony. As he struggled to rip himself from her grip, she was able to kick again and again. She felt his blood trickle down to splatter against her belly, warm and sticky. Batface refuses to give in, however, he took the blows, eyes wide and lip curled.
Staring into his eyes, Sedgepaw froze when she noticed her reflection in the depths of his orange irises. She recognized the bloodied face from her dreams hiding in his gaze. What am I becoming? Retracting her claws, she kicked Batface off and panted. Rising to her paws, she stared at the bloodstains marring her fur. She was a sapling struggling to stand after a storm, limbs shivering as her sanity threatened to by yanked by its roots. What am I becoming? she asked herself again.
Batface rolled into the sand, panting and coughing. Sedgepaw watched as her mentor stood, shaking, as blood fell from his black fur like steady, scarlet rain drops. He regarded her with a lopsided smirk, wincing as he wheezed in pain. "You—you did good," he admitted with a cough. "But you held back. Why?"
Sedgepaw was silent, fishing for words that avoided her lure. "I…" She narrowed her eyes. The image of herself… covered in the blood of another cat… eyes vacant… it haunted her. "I was scared."
Batface was by her side, his smile gone. "You need to be scared," Batface reassured her. "We are warriors. This is our life. We bare the burden of our ancestors and the blood of our enemies. If that doesn't scare you… then I doubt you know what it means to be a warrior."
"Right…" She pushed the entity from her dreams out of her mind. "Will I ever not be scared?"
Her mentor was making his way through the reeds and she followed after him, noticing the small trail of blood he left behind. "You will feel it less as time goes on," he rasped. "It will always be there, though. More as a whisper than a scream. You have to numb yourself to it, or you'll go mad. The things you may have to do… You just have to remind yourself it's for the greater good and press on."
As the heat of battle dulled and became a lukewarm memory, Sedgepaw felt her fear slowly fade away. She winced, feeling blood pool and drip from the deep gashes on her shoulder. Despite the pain, her fight made her feel… alive. Her ebbing fear was succeeded by her rising pride. She beat Batface for the first time. Watching the older warrior walk so carefully, almost stiffly, she realized he was trying to hide his limp. Perhaps she should have had restraint?
"Do not dwell on your past actions," Batface went on. "Learn from your mistakes and move on. There is nothing in your past but ghosts, and they will drag you down until you're as dead as they are."
They continued through the cypress swamp. Around them, the shadows grew, threatening to engulf them in darkness. Birdsong and cricket song mingled in a rare chorus that only harmonized during sunset. Sedgepaw followed her mentor out of the woods to the marsh. They stood side by side, watching the blood red horizon bleed across the sky in angry shades of scarlet.
"Do you speak from experience, Batface?" she asked quietly.
Her mentor wordlessly approached the marsh, grunting as he stepped into the peat and bog. "I've done things in life that I regret. Sometimes I can't sleep at night," he confessed. "It'd be unfair to ask you to live a life with no regrets when your life is not even yours to live."
"What do you mean?" Sedgepaw pressed, wading through the muddy water behind him.
"You live to serve Whitestar, and by extension, StarClan," Batface reminded her. "Your duty is greater than yourself. The things you may have to do along the way… think of them as collateral for the eternal life you will have in the stars."
"But—"
"It's a hard plum to swallow, I know," Batface interrupted. "But if you strive for a life of greatness, you'll be remembered as such. Who knows? Maybe they'll tell stories about you one day."
If only Batface knew… Sedgepaw gazed toward the horizon, remembering what her reflection uttered: "When the scarlet sun falls and bleeds on the earth, we rise." What could be waiting, just beyond the horizon? What was in store for her? It seemed StarClan already wrote her story… she and her siblings were destined to give rise to revolution. Would she go down in history like Lightningstar and be remembered as a hero? Or would she become the villain?
Sedgepaw felt like she was treading water in a massive lake, waiting for either a wave to bring her under or a current to bring her to shore. Powerless. Hopeless.
"I don't think I'm destined for greatness," Sedgepaw admitted solemnly as they continued to walk through the marsh.
"It's not about what you think, it's about what you do," Batface countered. "Do what you're supposed to do to the best of your ability, the rest will fall into place."
"Well what if I'm doomed for failure?" Sedgepaw protested.
"Living a life as if you're doomed for failure just seals your fate," Batface spat. "That's just an excuse to give up or not try." He turned on her. "If I was destined to fail, I'd still try to succeed as often as I could."
Sedgepaw's head drooped as they approached the wall of sawgrass and maidencane that bordered the camp. Her mind was a whirlwind of dread.
"No matter what," Batface rasped softly, "you need to promise you won't give up."
Raising her eyes to gaze up at her mentor, she frowned.
"You're going to be a warrior, and a fantastic one at that." He chuckled. "I should know… I trained you." Sobering up, his tone became serious. "The worst thing you can do in life is doubt yourself. No matter what StarClan has planned, or what Whitestar wants you to do, the only one that can fail you is you… So... Just promise me you'll try and never give up."
Sedgepaw smiled softly, bringing her head up to stare level with him. So… he did believe in her. All this time. He never doubted her. The only one that ever doubted her… was herself. Reinvigorated, she nodded eagerly before they stepped into the grasses that framed camp.
"I'll never give up, Batface," she vowed. "I promise."