ONCE Sedgestrike arrived back to MarshClan camp, the sun was on the rise. The shadows of night were all but a distant memory as dawn drained its darkness; replacing it was a canvas of pastels in the sky that shone in the reflections of the dewdrops that shivered on the reeds and grasses. Distant clouds, silvered by daybreak's pale gold light, whispered of an impending storm. Rain would become more commonplace as the days of riverswell came into full bloom. MarshClan existed in a pendulum, which swung to and fro between wet and dry seasons, riverswell and rivernarrow respectively. The scent of rain in the air coupled with the sticky humidity that clung to Sedgestrike's pelt alerted her of several storms to come.
Riverswell brought with it as much life as it did destruction. Sedestrike gazed across the marsh, looking north towards Mother Lake and MarshClan camp. Soon, Mother Lake would be replenished to her full glory, much like her sister, the moon. Fishing would become popular again for hunting parties. However, should Mother Lake become too swollen with rain water, her girth could swallow MarshClan camp, and force them to migrate to the palmetto fields and sparse pine forest that flanked the cypress swamp.
It was a period of transformation for more than just MarshClan's newest warriors. All around them, the world was evolving and molding to the merciless speed of time. Sedgestrike felt caught in the midst of it, entangled in a perpetual metamorphosis that threatened to strangle her should she learn how to contort and twist her body to the fancy of the strings. Since the final moon of her apprenticeship, she was riddled with signs and omens that kept her up at night. In her heart, she knew the visions would not evaporate now that she was a warrior. In fact, she felt they would only become more fierce. If she truly had a destiny to fulfill, it would only become more demanding now that she came of age.
Pushing through the stalks of maidencane and sawgrass, Sedgestrike followed Whitestar as she led them back to camp. Her heart fluttered. She was returning to MarshClan a warrior. Behind her, she could feel excitement teeming from her fellow rookies. Blackhawk in particular, was galavanting through the brush like a buck showing off his new rack of antlers. Head high, chin raised, voice boisterious, Sedgestrike felt consumed-if not suffocated-by his energy. She only wished she could share it. She was haunted by her latest vision: Whitestar's paw turning the Lunar Cavern's water to blood. She christened Sedgestrike and the others with that same paw, and it felt like she doomed them rather than commended them.
As Sedgestrike set foot into camp, she was greeted by another grave reminder: Toadpaw.
Lying limp in the clearing, his bloated body was adorned with marigold, tiny milkweed blossoms, and white wax begonia petals. In his locked jaw was a bundle of sage, which was said to help the dead on their walk to StarClan. Collapsed over his body was the shaggy frame of Russetnose. He appeared to be asleep, for his body rose and fell slowly. Surrounding the fallen apprentice were the other MarshClan cats that would be responsible for his burial: Heronpaw, Sandthroat, and Mudpaw.
"Oh no," Yewbranch whimpered. Sedgestrike could see her green eyes glistening as she pushed passed them. She went straight for Mudpaw, greeting him with consoling licks and mews. Sedgestrike watched as her brother stiffened and shoved her off with a grumble. Yewbranch flinched back and her tail drooped.
"Hey, what was that for?" Blackhawk barked. The long-haired warrior's paws thundered as she ran to Yewbranch. "She was only trying to help you feel better," he reminded Mudpaw.
Sedgestrike frowned when Mudpaw returned Blackhawk's scorn with a hollow gaze and a shrug. When his listless eyes slid behind the black warrior's and found hers, his gaze turned to a glare. Sedgestrike felt her heart sink as her brother gave a snort and looked away. He was still upset with her. Very upset with her.
"Such a grim welcome," Whitestar observed. Her voice was too calculating to hold emotion. "We should proceed with the burial straightaway. The last thing we need is to dampen moral even more."
Redleaf nodded. "They were likely waiting for your return. The leader must send off the dead to be buried, elsewise they may be doomed to wander in-between."
"Toadpaw will need you as well," Whitestar pointed out. "Heronpaw may have dressed the body, but he has not been recognized by StarClan. You must be there when he is laid to rest."
Sedgestrike's ears swiveled as she continued to eavesdrop on the leader and medicine cat as they divvied up their responsibilities. Their exchange felt methodical, cold, as if they were carrying out a chore rather than burying a Clanmate.
As they continued to linger on the fringe of camp, Sedgestrike felt Ospreyflight brush against her. "You know that it's not your fault, right?" she murmured.
Sedgestrike avoided her stare. "It feels like it is." She grimaced, growing angry at herself. "I saw the viper… I tried to stop Mudpaw, but he wouldn't listen. I-I couldn't save them both."
"But you at least were able to save one of them," Ospreyflight reasoned. "We may have had two bodies to bury if you didn't."
"It shouldn't have been a trade-off!" Sedgestrike hissed, crushing her paw into the earth as she stamped it.
Whitestar was making her way to the Fallen Cypress as Sedgestrike was assaulted by guilt. Redleaf followed suit, sitting at the foot of the hollow cypress trunk, tail wrapped neatly around his paws. Neither stopped to acknowledge Toadpaw's body nor offer condolences to his gathered loved ones. Sedgestrike felt a pang of rage. How could they be so heartless? She instinctively drew closer to her leader, knowing she was about to call the Clan to gather, careful not to come too close to Mudpaw.
"MarshClan!" Whitestar yowled. "I call you to gather before the Fallen Cypress, I have important announcements to make."
Cats, warriors, apprentices, queens, and elders slowly poured from their respective dens. Only the dawn patrol and sentinels were out of camp, so MarshClan's clearing was almost full. Almost all the warriors were present, save for Hollyfoot, Zinniablossom, Fogspots, Mothfur, Littlebrook, and, Sedgestrike's heart sank, Blueflower. Sedgestrike could see young Foxpaw alongside Pebblepaw, trying to sit straighter so he could see over the warriors' heads. Lilypaw likely accompanied Mothfur on patrol. Of the queens, elderly Shellshine and a very pregnant Juniperheart sat outside the nursery. Jasminefur likely wanted to shield her kits from Toadpaw's corpse, for she remained in the nursery with them. Larkwing, Owleyes, and Cypressfang stepped outside the elders den. Vervainclaw was likely asleep still in his nest.
Surrounded by her Clan, Sedgestrike felt comforted. They all sat a respectful distance away from Toadpaw's corpse as it lay in the center of the clearing before the Fallen Cypress. For once, the Clan was quiet. No hushed murmurs or whispers fluttered between them. Only the distant, sorrowful cry of a mourning dove could be heard, echoing what all the gathered cats felt: remorse.
"As many of MarshClan's most senior members know, the final test for apprentices is rigorous and unforgiving. It hurts my heart to say that this was not the first misfortune nor the last," Whitestar began grimly, head bowed. All the cats of MarshClan reflected her, bowing their heads in silence. "However, it is the test that makes MarshClan strong and ensures we have warriors that are ready and able to endure the greatest hardships, no matter the cost. In the end, we all know it is StarClan that chooses which of our apprentices are ready to accept the duty of a warrior."
MarshClan was silent. Sedgestrike's heart felt heavy.
"Toadpaw was always full of laughs. He lived with boundless optimism, much like his father, and always knew the best places to take naps."
A resonate chuckle emerged from the gathered cats as they collectively recalled their own memories of Toadpaw lounging and chortling. Some began to murmur softly and share their recollections. Others smiled wistfully. Sedgestrike's head remained bowed, eyes shut. This was her fault. How could she enjoy Toadpaw's memory, when she was the one that reduced him to one?
"We can all sleep well tonight knowing Toadpaw remains in the welcome arms of StarClan forever. He will be greeted by his mother, Dustpool, and all of our ancestors. In life, and in death, Toadpaw will remain full of laughter and good sleep."
Redleaf stood, as if on queue, and approached Toadpaw's corpse. The apprentice's loved ones also stood, though Russetnose continued to cradle his body as he rested atop it. Redleaf lowered to murmur to the elder gently, and Russetnose hesitated before rising to his paws. Sedgestrike was shocked when it seemed he aged a hundred moons overnight. His eyes were drooping, whiskers frazzled, and he face consumed by several new gray hairs. Grief did not treat him kindly.
"With a heavy heart, I send Toadpaw to be laid to rest. Those closest to him shall lower his body while Redleaf holds a private funeral. MarshClan, make way for your our Clanmate one last time and you may pay respects as he passes." Whitestar's head rose. She watched as those closest to Toadpaw hoisted his body up to be carried, with Redleaf leading the way. "May StarClan light your path," she prayed.
As Toadpaw was carried through the crowd, which had parted for him, cats murmured their condolences and respects. Sedestrike, watching him pass, lowered her head. "I'm sorry," she mewed.
Once the funeral provision left, MarshClan returned to its usual murmuring congregation. Sedgestrike heard them speak solemnly of Russetnose and Toadpaw's fate. She felt too hollow to join them.
"There is one more announcement I must make," Whitestar continued, rising to her paws. "May our newest warriors step forward?"
Summoned from the masses, Sedgestrike robotically stepped forward. She was joined by Blackhawk, Yewbranch, and Ospreyflight. The Clan gathered around them, eyes wide, excited murmurs rising.
"I present to you MarshClan's newest warriors: Sedgestrike, Blackhawk, Yewbranch, and Ospreyflight!" Whitestar called their names out in celebration. Many of the cats cheered, but too many hearts were heavy for it to become a ruckus. Whitestar acknowledged the fluctuating morale and continued, "It is in times of great hardship that StarClan blesses us with events that deserve celebration. Though our hearts are heavy, we must remember what we should be grateful for."
The cheers became a little louder as less cats felt guilty about celebrating so soon after Toadpaw was sent off. Sedgestrike heard waves of congratulations and best wishes. She did not feel deserving of any of them. Keen on letting Blackhawk soak up all the praise, Sedgestrike began to inch away from her place before Whitestar. She wanted to get out of the spotlight. She wanted to sleep for moons. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life.
Before she could make her escape, Whitestar's mew rang out once more. "What's more, we have to recognize our honor graduates."
Eager silence settled within the Clan. Sedgestrike could feel them teeming with wonder and excitement. It was beginning to rub off on her. Her curiosity was strong enough to overpower her guilt.
"MarshClan leaders have long recognized apprentices that excelled in comparison to their peers during the final test. In order to commemorate their success, they are dubbed 'honor graduates.'" Whitestar's smile was thin. "The pair of warriors with the least amount of failures on their test are as follows…" The pause that ensued charged Sedgestrike with anticipation. "Sedgestrike and Ospreyflight!"
A roar of applause followed, and MarshClan flooded Sedgestrike and her friend. She was surrounded by proud faces and jovial smiles. She got smothered in pats on the back from their tails and friendly nudges. The moniker "honor graduate" seemed more superficial now that Sedgestrike earned it. Though she was awash with celebratory mews, they fell flat on her disheartened face.
"In order to properly welcome our new honor graduates, the alumni that earned the title in the past will gather together to recognize their fraternity." Whitestar added.
Sedgestrike's ears perked. She did not know honor graduates would be given such a vast welcome. Perhaps the title was not superficial after all? Interest piqued, she tried to pick out other honor graduates from the past. She only knew of Snakefang and Juniperheart, the two most recent warriors before her and Ospreyflight to earn the title.
Sighing to herself, Sedgestrike peeled away from the crowd, allowing them to swarm Ospreyflight, Blackhawk, and Yewbranch. She longed for solitude. Her long night drained her of energy, and she thirsted for rest. Head lowered, she did not realize she was headed for the apprentices den until she was standing before it. That's right… She was not allowed to sleep there anymore.
"You want to come back already?" Foxpaw chirped. He hopped to her side with a smile. Sedgestrike returned his grin, not having the heart to resist his brimming jolliness.
"I'm just tired." Sedgestrike yawned. "I didn't realize where I was walking." She slumped, sitting on the cool grass with a sigh. "I didn't get a chance to sleep last night."
Foxpaw mimicked her, slumping into the grass with an exaggerated sigh. Sedgestrike giggled, but then grew solemn once more. It seemed Foxpaw shared Mudpaw's sense of humor. "Well, don't go in there!" Foxpaw snapped teasingly. "You're too big for the apprentices den."
Sedgestrike smirked impishly. "You're right…" She leaned back, relenting, only to sink forward. "I think I'll just sleep here."
"Wait-what?!" Foxpaw began to back away, only to be toppled by Sedgestrike as she fell onto him with a yawn. "H-hey!"
"Wow, the grass is extra comfy today." Sedgestrike purred, gazing at the slowly brightening sky as Foxpaw remained trapped under her back. Her thick, long fur concealed the little ginger apprentice, only his head popped out of the swathes of her fur. She snuggled her back on top of him, making him grunt in protest. "Good night!"
"U-ugh! You mousebrain!" Foxpaw grunted, chuckling. He wriggled like a worm beneath her. "Your big butt is crushing me!"
As Sedgestrike pretended to shut her eyes and snore, a shadow was cast over her. Foxpaw froze beneath her, and Sedgestrike peeled her eyes open to see was disturbed him. Batface was hovering over her, brow quirked. "I see becoming a warrior has failed to mature you, 'honor graduate,'" he observed tauntingly.
Sedestrike sat up in an instant, scoffing. Foxpaw scrabbled to his paws and hopped off, clearly intimidated by the senior warrior's appearance. Seeing Batface used to conjure a similar reaction from Sedgestrike when she was his new apprentice, but now, she smiled at him. "Batface," she greeted.
"Congratulations." His rasp was full of emotion, so much so that Sedgestrike could not pinpoint just one.
"Thank you, Batface… I don't think I would've made it this far without you." If her younger self witnessed this exchange, she would've gagged.
"Probably not." He chuckled as her face wrinkled. Sobering, his voice became serious. "Whether you were fated or guided to this outcome is irrelevant. A victory is a victory."
Sedgestrike's heart felt full, it threatened to swell within her chest and burst from the confines of her ribs. "Will… will you retire now?" she asked softly.
Batface's grizzled muzzled wrinkled with a grin. "I think I have a few moons left in me. I'm not ready to be reduced to a lazing sack of fur yet," he rasped. He gave an animated sigh. "But no more apprentices, that's for sure."
"Good," Sedgestrike chirped. "Wouldn't want you to get a new favorite."
"When did I say you were my favorite?"
She smiled fondly. "You didn't have to."
Batface's gravelly purr soothed Sedgestrike. They shared a comfortable silence, which came to an end when Fernstream emerged from the crowd. Her green eyes were glistening with adoration when they fell upon Sedgestrike. Batface, acknowledging her mother, bowed his head to her and slowly backed away. Sedgestrike was left to be solaced by her mother's embrace; she craned her neck to hug Sedgestrike's, purring loudly so that rumbled against her, lulling her.
"Mother," Sedgestrike breathed. She did not realize how much she needed her mother's touch until she had it.
"I'm so proud of you, Sedgestrike," she murmured. "So proud."
"But-but I didn't-"
"Shhhh… shhh… I know. Don't worry your heart." Fernstream's comforting mews dared Sedgestrike to unfold. Her worries, fears, and guilt melted from her body, and she was limp against her mother. "You've come so far, my little one. I cannot put to words how proud I am of you."
Sedgestrike could not form coherent sentences. She feared if she opened her mouth, she would sputter or cry. She remained silent, enjoying her mother's warmth.
"Don't dwell on what happened to your brother, Sedgestrike. You can't allow that to weaken your spirit."
"How do you know?"
"Gingerstep told me everything yesterday. She saw you try and stop Mudpaw and how he fought back. She tried to help you guys, but she was too late." Fernstream leaned away from Sedgestrike, gazing into her eyes. "Does that mean it's her fault?" she asked.
"No!" Sedgestrike protested. "She did everything she could! I saw her running to us!"
"You need to be just as forgiving of yourself as you are of others," Fernstream advised, smiling gently.
Sedgestrike fell silent. Of course Fernstream was right. She always was.
"It was Toadpaw's time," Fernstream added solemnly. "We cannot control StarClan's will."
"StarClan's will…" Sedgestrike's eyes widened in realization. "That's right! I had to talk to you about something."
Fernstream nodded slowly. "I hadn't forgotten."
Fatigue was replaced by fear in Sedgestrike. Shuffling her paws, she jumbled through ways to word her thoughts well.
"I… When I fell from the Great Cypress…"
"Yes?" Fernstream leaned in.
"I heard you." Sedgestrike met her mother's gaze, chin raised. "I heard what you and Redleaf were discussing."
Her mother froze, eyes wide. For once, it seemed like she didn't know what to say.
Sedgestrike lowered her voice, whispering, "I know the prophecy."
"Sedgestrike…"
Sadness overcame her. Seeing Fernstream's guilty expression, hearing the shame in her voice… Was her mother going to turn her away? Was this too much? She could not bare the thought of losing her too. She already felt like she lost Yewbranch and Mudpaw.
"I'm sorry," Fernstream mewed.
All around them, the Clan was still embalmed in chaos. A flood of emotions stirred a tempest that hummed endlessly in camp. Laughing, crying, cheering. Today was a day for celebration and remorse; joining the two opposites together created a magnetism that drew everyone together, and they meshed without noticing the dread in Sedgestrike's face nor the guilt in Fernstream's.
"I don't want you to be sorry," Sedgestriked protested. "I just want… answers."
Fernstream sighed softly, nodding. "Okay. I'll tell you anything you want to know."
"Why did you keep this from me, from us, for so long?"
"I… wanted to protect you. The prophecy tormented me before you three were even born. I could not stand the idea of you being tormented just the same." She lowered her head. "I was going to wait until all three of you became warriors and tell you everything together; I see now that it wasn't meant to be."
"You were a medicine cat apprentice? Redleaf's apprentice?" Sedgestrike leaned in, hungry for answers.
"I was… a long time ago. I wasn't older than six moons old when he took me in, saying the stars whispered my name." Fernstream shrugged. "It never felt right to me." Her gaze ventured to the gathered cats, and she smiled fondly as she watched Shaleheart and Blackhawk rub shoulders, hooting and cheering in the midst of the celebration. "I always adored your father. His boundless optimism, his laugh… I wanted to be with him more than anything."
"So you abandoned your position?" Sedgestrike pressed. "You did it all… for love?"
Fernstream nodded, still smiling. "How could I not? The thought of not being with him, having his kits, raising a family alongside him… it tortured me." She leaned in, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "Would you not do the same for love?"
Sedgestrike sat back, taken by the question. She thought… if she had to choose between being with Blueflower and being a warrior… what would she choose? In her heart, she knew the answer. Relenting, she leaned back with a soft sigh. "But why us?"
Fernstream hissed. "You are meant to be," she asserted. "That much I know. If you weren't you would not be here today. StarClan works in mysterious ways… maybe this prophecy was not meant to be taken literally?"
Sedgestrike shrugged, feeling hopeless. "I don't know what it means."
"I wish I could tell you." Fernstream's voice broke. "I really do… but I have yet to come to a conclusion." She righted herself, back straightening, eyes bright. "But I do know that I could never regret having you three. You all are my greatest treasure."
The raw, powerful love Fernstream felt threatened to sweep Sedgestrike away. No one could convince her that her mother was not the strongest warrior in the Clan. For her to defy even the stars, potentially, in the name of being a mother… Sedgestrike could only dream for such resolve.
"Yewbranch and Mudpaw know," Sedgestrike added, ears folded.
"They what?" Fernstream gasped, shock etching across her face.
"I told them two days ago…" Sedgestrike admitted, averting her gaze. "They… didn't believe me. Mudpaw got very upset."
Fernstream sighed sympathetically. "It'll be okay, Sedgestrike. Maybe it's best if they don't believe… a prophecy like this... it's… hard to handle." She shook her head. "Mudpaw is so much like your father. He enjoys life too much to imagine it not meant to be." Fernstream sounded melancholy as she continued, "Shaleheart doesn't know either."
"He doesn't?" Sedgestrike's ears perked with surprise. "I thought you two shared everything…"
"I would shoulder the Great Cypress to protect the ones I love. I could not bear the thought of wrecking your father's life with my existential dread. It's not his burden to bear."
"But it's ours," Sedgestrike murmured grudgingly. Of all cats, why did Shaleheart deserve not to know?
"Patience," Fernstream reminded her softly. "Your father's strengths are different from ours. We cannot blame him for not sharing our will just as you cannot shame a flower for not being able to grow as tall as a tree."
"What do we do now?" Sedgestrike asked, hoping to receive a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel.
"We wait," Fernstream mewed simply. "If this truly is a prophecy, we will wait for it to run its course. You're destined to fulfill it."
"But… I don't want to start a revolution," Sedgestrike protested meekly. Though she knew her destiny was laid out before her, she feared treading onward. "I don't want to be remembered as a villain or a tyrant nor do I want that for Yewbranch or Mudpaw. Is there no way to stop this?"
Fernstream shook her head. "Not all rebels are villains, Sedgestrike. Lightningstar is a-"
"I know, I know… he's remembered as a hero." Sedgestrike groaned. "I'm tired of hearing that name. I'm nothing like him." She lowered her voice to a whisper, "Besides, everyone likes Whitestar. Why would I be celebrated for getting rid of her?"
Fernstream's expression darkened. "Not all cats in MarshClan are satisfied with the way things are," she mewed cryptically.
"What do you mean?" Sedgestrike pressed.
Fernstream averted her eyes as Whitestar approached, amber eyes blazing. Sedgestrike stiffened, only to slowly relax when she saw a genuine smile on her face. "Sedgestrike," she greeted. "I suggest you rest up before this evening. The previous honor graduates will be holding a special ceremony for you tonight to welcome you to their fraternity. Ospreyflight is also aware and has retired to the warriors den." Whitestar spared a glance for Fernstream. "That is, if Fernstream allows it."
"Of course, Whitestar. What kind of mother would I be to let my daughter go without sleep?" Her mother's mew was surprisingly terse.
As Whitestar left, Fernstream got to her paws. Sedgestrike stood as well, not wanting to leave her mother just yet, but Fernstream shook her head. "You need sleep, little one," she reminded her.
Sedgestrike hesitated. "But…"
"We can speak more tomorrow," Fernstream promised. She smiled at Sedgestrike. "Thank you for talking to me. I… I really am sorry I kept this secret for so long."
Sedgestrike shrugged. "Just… don't keep any more from now on, okay?"
"Okay." Fernstream's eyes darkened. "I won't." She leaned in to rasp her tongue across Sedgestrike's cheek. "Get some rest now. You have a big night ahead of you."
"I will," Sedgestrike promised, smiling. Her smile faded as Fernstream walked away. How could she possibly sleep now? A revolution waited ahead, destined to happen, and Sedgestrike had not the slightest clue how, nor why. What was worse? She knew who would start it: her, Yewbranch, and Mudpaw.