SCARLET bled through the reeds, shining onto MarshClan camp with witha warm glow. The sun was sinking towards the horizon by the time Sedgestrike returned with Batface. A comfortable silence wafted through camp, soft and sweet like the perfume of fresh flowers; cats were winding down now, talking quietly amongst themselves now that the day was coming to an end. In the distance, Sedgestrike could see smoke still rising into the sky that burned bright red . The scent of charred pine in the distance was faint now. Even the once raging fire was waning as the day came to a close.

However, Sedgestrike could feel a prick of energy, like static, rising when her presence became known. The aftermath of her storm of emotions was composed of critical stares and sharp whispers. The murmurs surrounding her only grew more fervent when her Clanmates took notice of the promise wreath in her jaws.

"Don't mind them," Batface murmured softly. "Keep your chin up."

Sedgestrike's ears flicked and she nodded quietly. Making a beeline for the warriors den, she decided to evade the judgemental stares of her Clanmates for now and tuck away her wreath. As she entered the cool shade of the den, she heard gentle murmurs.

"We made sure to give you extra feathers." The voice belonged to Gingerstep. Peering through the shadows, Sedgestrike could see the warrior coaxing Egretsong into her bed with soft whispers. "You'll be even more comfy now. And-and we have some crushed elderflower from Redleaf, just in case your eyes get irritated."

"Thank you." Egretsong's usually bright and cheery voice was dull and gray. Her ears perked and nose twitched, and when she raised her chin, Sedgestrike stiffened when she saw her once beautiful face was marred with scratches, and her golden eyes were clouded and reduced to tiny, squinted slits on her face. "Sedgestrike," she mewed. "You're here."

"Yes…" Sedgestrike mewed uneasily. With the mud and marsh still stuck to her fur from her transit back to camp, she was surprised Egretsong took notice of her scent so fast.

"And you have a wreath… I can taste the ivy." A small smile spread on her scarred face. "Good luck."

Sedgestrike bowed her head, though she knew Egretsong would not be able to see her gratitude. "Thank you so much." She hoped she could hear it in her voice.

"You're welcome." Egretsong lowered herself into her nest, staring blankly ahead with a small smile. "I wish you the best for tomorrow."

"It's tomorrow?!" Sedgestrike felt like gagging as her nerves sparked to life and twisted in her tummy.

"Whitestar made the announcement a little while ago," Gingerstep clarified, still eyeing Egretsong with concern. Sedgestrike thought she saw guilt on the warrior's face, but she could not discern why. It was not her fault that Egretsong was injured…

"Will you not be going?" Sedgestrike mewed, eyeing Egretsong with sympathy.

"What… looking like this?" The warrior shook her head. "No one would want someone that looks like me."

"That's not true!" Gingerstep protested, rasping her tongue reassuringly across her sister's forehead. "No matter your scars, you're still one of the most beautiful she-cats in MarshClan."

"I'd rather not compete with Palemist or Littlebrook… I couldn't take the shame…" Egretsong rested her chin on her paws, sighing softly. "I'll be fine here."

"You don't have to go to find a mate," Sedgestrike murmured hopefully. "Just go for the fun. You can eat the honeycomb and roll in the catmint!"

Egretsong smiled softly, shaking her head. "I wish I could share your enthusiasm, Sedgestrike, but I have nothing to celebrate."

Sedgestrike bowed her head forlornly, making her way to her nest in silence. As she tucked her wreath away, she frowned, realizing how easily the Fallen destroyed Egretsong's happiness. Minnowtail's betrayal scarred the warrior for the rest of her life, and for what? Scorchface? Sedgestrike chewed on the notion, but the morsel tasted like carrion on her tongue, and her face twisted in disgust. How far would the Fallen go? And why would they go that far?

Curling up in her nest, she decided that she would skip dinner tonight and succumb to sleep. She had no appetite and no will to show her face in camp. After blowing up on Shaleheart, Sedgestrike felt her spirits settle on the pyre, simmering with latent regret. There was at least one thing she still had to look forward to… Smiling softly, she shut her eyes and thought of Blueflower, but her bright imaginings of love were soon overcome by darkness.

Ice surrounded Sedgestrike, twinkling menacingly in the shadows. The swamp that she stood in was infested by frost, which clustered at the roots and hid in the branches of the trees. She was in the Place of Eternal Night again. Dread overcame her as a familiar, eccentric laugh echoed through the night. Pikestar.

Golden eyes blazing, she thought she saw his spotted pelt maneuver through the reeds, but as she honed in on the rustle, all she saw were shadows. He was toying with her. As a spirit, he could be anywhere and everywhere at once if he willed it. She bristled, and her dark brown tabby fur was ruffled by a chilling breeze. His laugh was carried in the curtails of it, ominous and impish.

"Enough games," she growled. "You're visiting me to talk, right? Let's talk." She unsheathed her claws, eyes darting wildly around in search of him. Her lips were parted to taste the air, but her tongue was forced to savor cold nothingness; it almost hurt her lungs to breathe.

"Sedgestrike, always on your guard, claws unsheathed." Pikestar's praising purr came from the treetops. He was sprawled out on a branch, grinning with his tail curled around it like a vine. "It's so… deliciously barbaric."

A snarl escaped Sedgestrike. She was tempted to scale the cypress and claw him, but she knew he would evaporate and reappear unscathed. It would only entertain him. "I already told you I would not help you realize your goal. You visiting me is all in vain," she taunted confidently, chin raised.

"And I've told you whether you will or won't is a moot point. It cannot be undone. The moment you were born, the prophecy was realized, and the moment you marked yourself in Father's Fang, your fate was sealed." Pikestar began to fade from the branch, only to materialize before Sedgestrike in a cloud of black miasma; shadowy wisps continued to roll off his pelt as he spoke to her. "I will visit you in your dreams every night until you accept your role," he whispered. "These can be bad dreams or good dreams, depending on how you cooperate."

Sedgestrike snorted. "You don't scare me."

"I'm not trying to scare you… I'm only telling you the truth." He trotted around her, but his paws did not cause the water to ripple. "There are other, stronger cats here; cats that know how to get what they want."

"Oh, what, and you don't?" Sedgestrike taunted, scoffing. "Are you just their messenger?"

Pikestar shrugged, tail flicking dismissively. "I just don't like getting my paws dirty… if that makes me a messenger, I'll happily take the title."

"Paws dirty?" Sedgestrike shook her head. "Let them come. They can't harm me."

Pikestar sighed, rolling his eyes. "If you insist. Don't say I didn't warn you…"

As he began to fade into the darkness, Sedgestrike was left standing alone. The silence was heavy. With only the noise of her heartbeat filling her ears, her thoughts began to race. Who else lingered in this place? Slowly, she began to back away, wanting to escape the icy swamp. When she heard a feral snarl from the rustling, frosted ferns before her, she turned and broke into a sprint.

Water splashed against her, icy cold, as she raced through the marsh. The further she ran, the more it seemed like her surroundings were unchanged. Was she running in circles? Her eyes darted wildly as she sought an escape. The entangled cypress branches above began to curve inward, like claws, closing in on her from overhead, creating a tunnel. Sedgestrike's heartbeat roared in her ears, exaggerated by the groans and howls coming from the swamp.

"Get me out of here," she shrieked, looking for stars between the clustered branches. The night sky was void of anything but blackness. "StarClan!"

Suddenly, Sedgestrike came to a stop when she collided with a well-muscled tabby. She grunted, gazing up from the marsh that engulfed her as she fell, seeing a pair of bright yellow eyes gazing down at her. "Shaleheart?" she whispered.

"So you have come," the tabby tom rumbled, blinking slowly.

This cat was not Shaleheart. He was taller with broad shoulders and a stronger chin than her father. "Talloak?" Sedgestrike whispered.

"They are foaming at the mouth to find you," Talloak rumbled, eyes downcast. "What happens next will not be pleasant."

"Please," Sedgestrike begged, bringing a paw to reach for her grandfather. "Help me."

Talloak slowly backed away. "The forces at work are stronger than you and I. Trifle with Them… and face Their wrath." He narrowed his eyes. "You chose this. It's time you play along… that's what I did."

"No… no! Don't leave me!" Sedgestrike scrambled through the marsh, feeling the mud thicken and grip at her pelt, eager to drag her down. Talloak was already fading, avoiding her desperate stare.

"I knew this would happen…" The grief in the warrior's voice was raw as his tabby pelt peeled away into darkness. "My son was a fool not to listen." Only the faint glow of his eyes remained as he whispered: "Your parents doomed us all."

"Talloak!" Sedgestrike wailed, but her plea was heard by only the trees, which sighed with a breeze.

"My, my…" A soft, comforting voice sounded, but as Sedgestrike's ears swiveled, she found she could not place its origin. It surrounded her. "It's not safe for the living to travel here… alone."

Rising from the mud, Sedgestrike saw a ghastly figure watching her from the bracken, eyes glowing with curiosity. The apparition was pure white with eyes as icy blue as the frost around them. "The mind is a fragile thing, so easily corrupted… so delicate… and yet, so powerful and full of potential," he mused. His voice whispered through the fern fronds like a soft breeze, and he approached her with movements so fluid, Sedgestrike thought he was walking on air. "When you wander this place alone… your mind becomes more vulnerable with each step you take."

Sedgestrike was frozen by his presence; though he walked with grace and poise, she sensed an aura far more sinister than she imagined possible.

"Who… who are you?" Sedgestrike murmured.

"You know me." The white cat smiled sweetly, his angelic voice was unsettling when coupled with such lifeless eyes. "I am Hemlockstar."

Her blood ran cold. The kit killer. The maniac that slaughtered any raider or sympathizer and their offspring. She was in his presence. At his mercy.

"Pikestar said you were still hesitant to initiate our plans?" Hemlockstar asked, concerned. "What ails you, Sedgestrike? What misgivings do you possess?"

"Being in the company of cats like you is reason enough," Sedgestrike growled, voice wavering with fear.

Hemlockstar's eyes flashed. "Oh? I see…" His expression was thoughtful and then he smiled. "Maybe I should shed some light on Us then?"

Before Sedgestrike could react, she was seized by white hot light as Hemlockstar approached her, still grinning. Her brain buzzed, burned, boiled with images, memories that were not her own, that flooded every synapse in her skull until it rattled. She saw cats… countless cats… littered in a foggy field, beaten and bloodied, gutted and gored, with a small white tomcat sitting in the midst of them, eyes wide with shock. Blood was splattered across his face as his pupils shuddered within his icy blue irises. Sedgestrike tried to squeeze her eyes shut and unsee the carnage, the grief… the loss… but she couldn't. The stench alone could not be blinked away; it was putrid, awash with all manners of bodily fluids that fought to dominate the dismal air.

"The raiders almost took everything from me," Hemlockstar whispered softly. "They killed many of us. So many. I… could've been one of the bodies laying in that field."

Sedgestrike saw a large, smoky gray tabby tomcat approach the white tom, offering a paw. The young tom fell into the large tabby, crying.

"Murkstar guided me. He showed me what it meant to be a warrior and to serve the Place of Eternal Night. Without Them, the raiders would've continued to take lives… to lay waste to our Clanmates and pillage our land." Hemlockstar was standing before her now, eyes forlorn. A soft smile spread on his handsome face. "Our destinies are not easy… but we do what we need to do in order for MarshClan to survive."

Sedgestrike couldn't shake the sight of the battlefield, full of slain cats, from her head. "But you killed those kits…"

"They would've grown to kill us, our Clanmates, several times over," Hemlockstar hissed. "A Clan divided is doomed to fall."

Sedgestrike gazed up at Hemlockstar, breathing shakily as he returned her stare. "I don't know what I must do… I'm scared," she confessed.

"Hush," he whispered. "You just need to follow Whitestar's lead for now, and listen to what Pikestar tells you. The path before you is clear, you just have to be willing to take the first step. You will be the one to save them all… to save them from themselves."

Sedgestrike trembled, shaking her head. "And then what?" she demanded, but he was gone. She stood, spinning on her heels, hopelessly trying to find him. "And then what?" she cried, closing her eyes.

When she opened them again, she was sitting upright in her nest, breathing heavily. Her mind was reeling. Bringing a shaking paw to her face, a soft sob escaped her. All around her, the warriors were still pleasantly sleeping. Not one took notice of her turmoil or the fear saturating her pelt. She felt… alone. Her feathery tail brushed against the promise wreath tucked in her mossy nest, and her mind instantly went to Blueflower. Shaking, she sniffled and found the warrior in her nest.

"Blueflower…" she whispered. Sedgestrike, blinded by fatigue, slowly made her way towards her from across the den. Head low, she nudged the she-cat gently.

"Sedgestrike?" Blueflower's eyes flickered open, looking like ethereal pools on her soft face. "What… what's wrong?"

Sedgestrike lowered herself to rest beside the warrior. "I… had a bad dream."

"You can rest beside me then," Blueflower offered, yawning softly.

Sighing with relief, Sedgestrike nestled against the other warrior. Her scent soothed her. With a smile, she pressed her nose into her chest and breathed another shaky sigh. When Blueflower draped her arm across Sedgestrike's broad shoulder, she could feel her heart reduce to a puddle.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Blueflower asked in a whisper.

Sedgestrike shook her head, already returning to sleep. "No… I just… want you."

When Sedgestrike woke up again, she felt her heart sink. She was back in the Place of Eternal Night. Her dread was rivaled by rage when she saw Pikestar nonchalantly grooming himself before her, purring softly. His spotted pelt was sleek and gleamed dully in the night, but his eyes gleamed bright, smug and amused.

"Welcome back," he mewed, laughter in his voice.

Sedgestrike was silent as she sat. For once, she did not arrive in the marsh. Instead, she sat on brittle, frosted grass, which crunched stiffly under her weight. Surrounding them were tall pines with needles dusted white, casting long, narrow shadows. There was no sweet aroma of evergreens though, instead, her nostrils burned with the cold. Golden eyes blazing, she dug her claws into the cold earth as Pikestar smiled at her.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Her voice was guttural.

"I will, once you've done your job." Pikestar's quick rebuttal caused Sedgestrike's pelt to prickle with annoyance. "Hemlockstar said he had gotten through to you… he would not be pleased to discover you proved him wrong."

"Just get on with it," Sedgestrike spat. "Tell me what you want me to do."

Pikestar laughed, giddy. "Oh, splendid! So he did get through that thick skull of yours. I thought he would have to split it for sure."

Sedgestrike cringed at the grim remark, but tempered her disgust as she waited for him to speak.

"As Whitestar already told you, there are traitors in MarshClan." Pikestar's eyes narrowed into slits. His fangs glinted as he spoke. "It's up to you to help her find them… and dispose of them."

"Dispose of them?" Sedgestrike hissed in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

Pikestar materialized beside her, chuckling sinisterly. "Oh, Sedgestrike, I relish your willful ignorance. You've known all along how your leader operates… you just didn't wish to believe it."

"Wh-What are you saying?" Sedgestrike refused to acknowledge what he implied. If she let her head wrap around it, it would surely snap.

"It's best if I show, rather than tell. Seeing is believing, right?" An amused purr escaped him.

Backing away, Sedgestrike gave a warning hiss. "You stay out of my head." Her growl wavered with fear.

"Oh, Sedgestrike… I'm already there."

White hot light returned, searing her vision and crackling in her mind as if a bolt of lightning was trapped in her skull. She tried to blink it away, but when she opened her eyes, she could only see the light, and it scorched her pupils until she had to choice but to brace herself until the pain that wracked her head ended.

Finally, a cool breeze rustled through her fur. Sedgestrike slowly opened her eyes, finding herself standing in a familiar clearing, surrounded by pine trees. Ivy cast a verdant veil over the pine needles that littered the ground, and between the narrow vines blossomed tiny yellow flowers that shuddered in the wind. She was back in MarshClan. The sound of rushing water alerted her to the close proximity of the river border, but what drew her attention most of all was a distant caterwaul.

In the distance, she spotted a pair of silhouettes jostling through the thicket of bracken, eyes blazing, with a wiry tabby in tow. Her heart began to pound when she recognized the protruding jaw of Grayjaw and the burly frame of Claytooth. Between them, the tabby tom was shoved and shouldered along, getting knocked back and forth like a pebble against the shore. However, the rage in his green eyes was unprecedented.

"Vinestripe?" Sedgestrike breathed, eyes wide.

Grayjaw knocked Vinestripe forward by his haunches, hissing. "Come on then! Step it out."

Vinestripe fell into the ivy as his hind legs buckled, growling. "Striking me won't make me walk faster," he spat, glaring up at the larger warrior.

Grayjaw curled his lip, raising his paw as if to strike him again, but Claytooth intervened with a stern glare and deep snarl. "You're stalling. Let's hurry this up. I want to go home to my son."

Grudgingly, Grayjaw watched as Vinestripe rose to his paws. Sedgestrike continued to be an audience to the scene, skin crawling with unease. Her eyes glanced around the forest desperately for Pikestar. "Get me out of here," she whispered. Her mind's eye flickered with the grisly vision of Vinestripe a few moons ago: throat slit, gurgling for breath through bloody lips.

As they jostled onward, Sedgestrike moved to get out of their way, only to discover her paws were stuck to the earth, as if ensnared by the ivy flourishing around her. She screwed her eyes shut as they drew closer, shoving and spitting, fearing they would surely see her. However, as the cats came upon her, they pushed by as if she were nothing more than dust in the wind. She craned her head to follow them as they approached the steep incline where the pine forest dropped to the river as a cliff. The three cats had their backs to Sedgestrike, all gazing over the edge in chilling silence.

"This is where our escort ends," Claytooth murmured. His voice broke the stillness of the air, reducing it to sharp shatters that cropped Sedgestrike's ears painfully.

The faint noise of claws clicking against the ground caused Sedgestrike's gaze to flicker to their paws. She could see the glint of unsheathed claws from Grayjaw and Claytooth. Vinestripe, however, stood still, gazing down the gorge to the rushing water below. Though Sedgestrike could not see his face, she imagined him looking calm, almost resigned.

"How do you expect me to cross the border from here?" Vinestripe asked. There was no wonder in his question; it was as if he already knew the answer.

Sedgestrike's blood turned to ice in her veins as Claytooth leaned in. "You won't be crossing anything." His growl was dark, brooding.

"Don't play dumb," Grayjaw hissed. "I'm sure your little friends across the border already told you their stories. The ones that got away…"

Vinestripe was silent, but he still yowled in pain when Grayjaw grappled at his shoulders, pulling him back and onto the ground roughly. The warrior spat and slashed up at his attacker, but Grayjaw did not budge. Vinestripe flailed and twisted like a severed lizard tail under Grayjaw's grip, but the heavier warrior did not seem the least bit fatigued by his efforts.

Sedgestrike rushed forward. "Let him go!" she snarled. "You monsters!" As she dove for Grayjaw, she fell through him, face-first onto the ground, clawing at nothing but the humid air.

Glancing back, she saw Claytooth raise his paw, claws gleaming, eyes glowing with determination.

"No!" Sedgestrike screeched, lunging again, only to fall through Claytooth and back onto the ground. She turned, gasping, forced to watch Claytooth rake his claws cleanly across Vinestripe's throat. "In the name of the Order," Claytooth growled. "And in honor of Whitestar!"

The shrill wail that escaped Vinestripe's lips was severed by a gurgle as blood spattered from the scarlet smile on his neck to freckle Claytooth's and Grayjaw's grim expressions. Blood bubbled at Vinestripe's mouth, collecting at the corners before spilling onto the ivy, soaking the golden flowers between the vines, staining them scarlet. Sedgestrike's jaw was held open by shock, locked in perpetual terror as Claytooth and Grayjaw stared at the Fallen, watching him convulse and gulp for his last breaths of air, his claws still searched in vain to claw at their faces. After he seized one last strangled breath, his body went limp, head tilting to face Sedgestrike. His expression remained frozen in rage, having fought to the bitter end.

"I'll get the rocks," Grayjaw muttered. The warrior left as Claytooth began to clean his paws, licking at the blood with eyes half-shut.

Sedgestrike tried to back away, but she was petrified. Vinestripe's glazed-over gaze turned her to stone; the reflection of her expression in his dim pupils was frozen in shock. She remained entombed in the gruesome glimpse of the past, replaying it in her mind's eye until she could only see the red of his life-blood spilling before her.

"Make it stop!" she begged. "I've had enough! I don't want to see this anymore!" Sedgestrike's voice rose to an octave she did not know she possessed before now; it was shrill with disgust and ripe with fear.

Pikestar's voice came to her, wafting around her with the stench of death, Vinestripe's death. "This is what you are meant to do," he explained, giddy. "Instill order in the name of the Eternal Night."

"This isn't order," Sedgestrike hissed painfully, tearing her eyes away as Grayjaw roughly began shoving sizeable rocks down Vinestripe's throat. The force and the width of the stones pushed at the dead cat's jaws until a dull snapping noise sounded, breaking under the pressure, coming unhinged like a python's. "This is carnage!"

"It's time you come to realize the price of your freedom. While you live your peaceful life, the other Paragons are engaged in a silent war fought in the shadows." Pikestar materialized before Sedgestrike, eyes narrowed. Around him, the scene began to melt away, but Sedgestrike caught the final glimpse of the heinous murder: Vinestripe's body being pushed off the ledge, dumped into the river, doomed to sink. His final resting place.

"You will carry out Our will," Pikestar hissed, glaring at her. "You will eliminate those that oppose Us."

Sedgestrike met his glare, bile rising from the back of her throat. She spat in disgust. "I'll never obey you, or anyone in this forsaken place."

Pikestar sat back, smirking. "You will… because if you don't, it'll be your loved ones getting dumped into the river next." A cruel chuckle escaped him. "There is no high road to take here. No matter what you choose, cats will die. Whether it is the filth that chose to rise against MarshClan or the ones you hold dear is up to you."

"If you touch any one of them, I'll kill you!" Sedgestrike lunged, claws bared, only to swipe at the air above her. She was staring at the broad leaves composing roof of the warriors den, a warm breeze rustling to unveil a dark sky.

She was awake.