DAWN stained the sky a muted purple, and in its vastness, it harbored silvery clouds that stretched across in thin wisps towards the shining pink horizon. Sedgestrike was transfixed on the colorful heavens as she set foot back in camp. Her paws fell off during the trek back home, all that was left were the boney nubs of her ankles... At least, that was how it felt. What pained her most, however, were the knots in her belly; she could feel her intestines slither shakily in her stomach, oozing still with anxiety at Blueflower's revelation: she was a traitor.
The embarkation back to MarshClan from the orange groves had been a blur. She gathered shards of ice that held images, frozen, of what had occurred, hoarding them in her brain. A glimpse of shock from the festival attendees' faces when Sedgestrike returned to the clearing alone, without Blueflower, wreath still in tow. Yewbranch's sympathy stung most because it was undeserved. Though Blueflower did not take the wreath and formally accept her proposal, they did become mates, only, no one in MarshClan was allowed to know that. Another shard held the reflected image of Whitestar's unbridled pleasure. She offered her condolences for Sedgestrike's failed proposal with a ghost of a smile that would haunt her until death, maybe even after that.
Abandoned in the orange orchard was her wreath, and her hope that she and Blueflower could share a normal life together. Sedgestrike felt the doom of the prophecy loom overhead, much heavier and darker than the frivolous clouds above. She was destined, along with her siblings, to usher in a new order, and that meant killing those that could rise to oppose it. Blueflower was one of those cats. She remembered the menace in Whitestar's amber eyes when she told Sedgestrike to sniff out the traitors in their ranks, but now that she had one in her clutches, she refused to let her go. She would rather die than allow Whitestar or any of the Paragons to get their claws on Blueflower. But she had not forgotten Pikestar's threat… if she ignored her destiny, her loved ones would die.
As she wrestled with her thoughts, she noticed Mudpaw milling about the entrance to the elders den. He was rolling clods of soiled moss into an unsightly lump that looked more like algae gouged out from the river floor than bedding. Sedgestrike assumed the majority of the sodden moss came from Vervainclaw's nest, the oldest of the elders; he was always her least favorite cat to tend to as an apprentice. The sour odor was pungent enough for Sedgestrike to smell it from across the clearing. The only thing more sour than the dirty moss was the look on Mudpaw's face. Sedgestrike felt a pang of sympathy, soon followed by a rash of guilt, as she watched her brother continue to roll out old bedding from the elders den. He should have been a warrior by now, instead, he was performing menial tasks meant for the greenest of apprentices.
Unsure if it was pity or guilt that possessed her to approach him, she found herself hovering by his side as he flicked moss off his claws. Mudpaw's green eyes found hers, and Sedgestrike was unsurprised to find resentment glowing in their verdant depths. It seemed he still blamed her for his failure at the final test. Though Sedgestrike saved him from the viper's bite in the marsh, she consequently condemned his partner, Toadpaw. The death of Toadpaw was ultimately what led to Mudpaw's failure, and it was still a fresh wound; Sedgestrike knew that the wound was bound to fester if she delayed patching things up with Mudpaw, but she felt a twinge of resentment herself. He should be grateful! Had she not saved his life, he would've been the one getting buried.
"What do you want?" Mudpaw growled. The acidity in his voice was potent enough to corrode his teeth, but his fangs remained, glinting as he curled his lip.
"Just checking up on you," Sedgestrike mewed curtly. She eyed him cautiously, as if he was a flame that could burst if given the right amount of fuel. "Are you doing this alone?"
"Tch, why do you care?" Mudpaw was bristling, his mottled brown pelt began to resemble a thorn bush. Rolling his eyes, he grumbled an explanation. "The other apprentices were allowed to enjoy the holiday."
Sedgestrike frowned sympathetically. Toadpaw's death was a freak accident. He shouldn't be getting punished for it! "Let me help you?" she offered. "I'm sure you could use a break."
"Piss off!" Mudpaw snapped, shouldering her away from the rotten pile of moss as she leaned in to roll it away. "I don't need your pity. Don't you have a new mate to coddle?" His sneer pricked Sedgestrike's nerve, and she matched his glare with her own. "In case you don't remember, the last time you interfered with my life, things didn't turn out so well."
"I saved your life!" Sedgestrike protested. "How could you be so ungrateful? Are you saying you'd rather be dead than care for the elders for a little bit longer? How selfish can you be?"
Mudpaw recoiled from Sedgestrike's scorn, only to hiss and rise up again so that he was eye-level with her. "That's easy for you to say! You don't have to deal with the looks. You don't have to hear the things the others are saying about me. How I am a fool, how I should've been there for Toadpaw, or how disgraceful it is for our parents to have such a failure of a son..."
"None of that is worse than dying," Sedgestrike growled, eyes narrowing. "You're disrespecting Toadpaw's death if you think your circumstances trump his. At least you got a second chance!"
Sedgestrike couldn't continue her scorn, however, for Mudpaw tackled her, spitting curses. His anger made his movements harsh, but clumsy, and she felt his claws knot messily in her thick fur, tugging at it, but not breaking her skin. She hissed at him, frustrated, and clipped his chin with her large paw; she was careful to keep her claws sheathed. Once he was stunned by her blow, she easily kicked him off her, having only been pinned for a heartbeat before tossing him to the side. Mudpaw grunted upon impact, dust and grass swirling around him. When he got up, he seemed to be ready to attack again, eyes blazing and teeth bared, but froze when he realized their audience. Sedgestrike was panting heavily, slowly noticing it was only her breathing she could hear; the rest of camp was dead silent, watching their violent exchange with wide eyes, like a gaggle of owls, bobbing their heads and clicking their beaks judgmentally.
"What's this then?" Whitestar growled. She broke through the crowd, eyes blazing.
"Whitestar, I—" Before Sedgestrike could explain herself, her leader went to Mudpaw and cuffed the side of his head with her paw. Sedgestrike winced at the sound of the dull thud.
"I assign you to the elders, and you decide to pick a fight with your sister instead? For shame, Mudpaw." Whitestar's words fell from her lips like ice chips.
Mudpaw gave their leader a malevolent glare, but remained silent, ears flattened.
"You should show more respect for your sister," Whitestar continued. Sedgestrike felt regret swell in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Mudpaw seemed very small under their leader's disapproving gaze. "As an honor graduate and a warrior, she's your superior and should be treated as such. I expected more from you than this."
Sedgestrike could feel a glare burning into her. It did not take long for her to find Longscar among the crowd of cats; his amber eyes bore into hers with more hatred than she thought possible.
"Until I say otherwise, you will continue to tend to the elders," Whitestar decided. Her voice was as frigid. "You need to learn your place, Mudpaw, lest you forget yourself."
Whitestar turned, storming off into her den with a soft growl. The shockwave that rattled camp afterwards paralyzed the cats. No one dared to move or speak until Spiderfang piped up. "Alright, let's get back to work! I'll be assigning patrols soon, so stand by."
Mudpaw stalked passed Sedgestrike, head lowered, and she turned to him. "Mudpaw, I—I didn't mean for that to happen. I just care and—"
"Just leave me alone," he mumbled, disappearing into the shadows of the elders den.
Sedgestrike felt a lump swell in her throat. This was all her fault. She tried to make amends, but she only made things worse. Still, a vein of anger still pulsed within. Mudpaw was the one that refused to listen! How could she make peace with him if he drew his claws at the sight of her?
Yewbranch and Fernstream were fast approaching, and Sedgestrike knew the ordeal was far from over. She stifled a groan when she noticed the look of concern on Fernstream's face.
"What happened?" Her mother's demand was more out of worry than anger. She could see dismay in her deep frown.
"I tried to apologize to Mudpaw, but he wasn't hearing it." Sedgestrike shrugged her broad shoulders. "I said some things that set him off. It's my fault he reacted like that."
"That's no excuse! How're you three supposed to overcome this if you don't get along?" Fernstream fretted.
"Overcome what?" Yewbranch mewed, bewildered still by the situation prior.
Her eyes always looked bigger when she was frightened. She often wore that same stunned expression when Mudpaw and Sedgestrike would break out into fights in the nursery or apprentice den; they would usually get into a scuffle after a game of moss ball or when Mudpaw would steal a bite of her fresh-kill. But this argument was different. Yes, Sedgestrike realized. This one shook her to the core.
Fernstream glanced at Yewbranch uneasily. "You… You know what I mean," she murmured impatiently, licking her white chest in a vain attempt to calm herself down.
Sedgestrike knew Fernstream was worrying about the prophecy. The dread on her mother's face was the same that was on her own whenever she thought about it. Yewbranch remained confused and ignorant, glancing between them like they started sprouting antlers.
"The prophecy," Sedgestrike mewed to her through clenched teeth. She knew too many cats were still staring their way, eager to catch glimpses of family drama as they went about their mundane lives. She had to be careful.
Yewbranch struggled to disguise her horror, and Sedgestrike noticed her lick her white chest fur in an attempt to settle her nerves. It seemed she picked up on their mother's nervous tick. Yewbranch looked to Fernstream in desperation. "So you do know about it? You've known all this time?" The hurt in her voice was unbridled. Sedgestrike winced.
"We cannot discuss this anymore here," Fernstream decided, her voice just above a whisper. "I'll explain to you later, Yewbranch."
"I—I need a moment." Yewbranch was breathing unevenly, eyes darting around as she frantically tried to compose herself.
"I need you three to get along. You're stronger together." Fernstream's voice became desperate, sounding more so as she kept her voice hushed. "Whatever is coming… I know you won't be able to tackle it alone. I've waited too long, I should've told you three sooner. I… I just wanted to protect you."
Sedgestrike nodded slowly. "It's okay, Mother. It'll be okay." She felt cold and hard, like stone, as she comforted her mother. No longer could she be a soft, weak kit that sought shelter in Fernstream's embrace. She needed to take charge now. She knew the dangers that waited for them ahead, and she knew she was willing to die protecting them.
"So, it's real? It's really real?" Yewbranch pressed. Her eyes seemed to beg for them to laugh it off, chalk it up as a good, long-running joke and have them waltz off to fill their bellies with good food. Instead, Yewbranch was met with grave stares and graver frowns.
"Yes," Fernstream reaffirmed. Her voice was stronger now, not wavering like before. Sedgestrike envied her mother's resilience.
"What about Mudpaw?" Yewbranch was staring yonder, towards the elders den.
"I'll speak to him." Fernstream smiled. "Please don't worry about this too much." She turned and made her way towards the elders den, likely preparing to talk to their brother.
Sedgestrike watched their mother disappear into the den before turning back to Yewbranch. Her sister was staring her her white paws, frowning. Sedgestrike sighed softly, going to her and rasping her tongue across her cheek reassuringly.
"It's going to be okay," Sedgestrike assured her, smiling.
"You say that, but you don't really know, do you?" Yewbranch mumbled pitifully. "I've seen you toss and turn at night and wake up with fear on your face. There's something going on. Something evil. I can sense it in you."
Sedgestrike's gaze grew dull, her expression went blank, and she put up her guard. It was like a fissure emerged between them in that moment. Sedgestrike knew she couldn't unveil the horrors of her night terrors to Yewbranch. Her sister wouldn't understand. Backing away, she laughed softly.
"Don't worry about me."
"I should've gone to you!" Yewbranch cried out, moving to stand close behind Sedgestrike as she walked away. Sedgestrike froze, eyes wide. Her sister continued, "I knew you were suffering and I just stood by. I could see your pain. But I—but I didn't know what to do. I didn't know—I didn't know what to say…"
Sedgestrike glanced back at Yewbranch, cracking a grin. "Stop being such a whiner," she teased. Inside, however, she was aching. Why couldn't she just open up to her sister? Was it too late? What had changed? The scars on her palms began to burn. "There's nothing to cry about."
"So you say…" The guilt in Yewbranch's voice was raw. She offered a paw to Sedgestrike. "You may not… Blueflower may not be with you, but I am. I'll be better. I'll support you."
It's too late, a whisper in Sedgestrike's head hissed. Sedgestrike shut her eyes, trying to push the thought out of her head. Don't think like that. Don't think like that.
Think like what? Think the truth. Where was she moons ago? The whisper within grew to a growl.
"It's okay," Sedgestrike reaffirmed, forcing a smile. "Really."
Yewbranch pulled her paw back. Sedgestrike waited too long to take it.
"I guess I'll see you around then?" Yewbranch murmured, backing away slowly. Her eyes refused to meet Sedgestrike's face.
Sedgestrike smirked. "Yup."
Yewbranch didn't hesitate. She turned and left, making a beeline for Blackhawk; the black tomcat was huddled near the fresh-kill pile, gorging himself on the fish caught by the cats that stayed behind from the Blossom Festival. Sedgestrike watched, turning green with envy, as he greeted her with a broad smile and a flush of nuzzles and licks. Meanwhile, she was left in the dust, feeling cold as if a gust of frigid wind billowed against her. She would only ever be able to run to Blueflower like that in her dreams-not even in her dreams. Her dreams were flooded with the Eternal Night. All she had was a promise that they would be together in the cover of night, in the secrets of the shadows. No one would be a witness to their love.
Sedgestrike found Blueflower, murmuring to Molefoot and Littlebrook outside the warriors den. Even from a distance, Sedgestrike could see the fatigue in Blueflower's blue eyes. Her heart lurched. It took every inch of restraint in her to lock her muscles up and prevent them from carrying her to Blueflower's side. This is for the best, she decided. If Blueflower's secret was to be safe, their distance was necessary… no matter how much it hurt.
Now that she was alone, Sedgestrike realized the gravity of her tiredness. It crashed into her like the rushing river's current, swallowing her in a haze. Caught in her abysmal reverie, she failed to notice Gingerstep approaching until she was upon her.
"Oh, hey," Sedgestrike greeted, startled.
Gingerstep hesitated before her, paws shuffling nervously. "Hi, uh, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but… you and I are sentinels today," Gingerstep mumbled, smiling apologetically.
"Lovely, as if I haven't been travelling all night," Sedgestrike deadpanned. The idea of being on her paws for the rest of the day made them ache even more. She became conscious of how tired she was in that moment after being up all night; her eyes wanted nothing more than to sink into their sockets and hide from the light of day.
"Well, Spiderfang said we will get the day off tomorrow, so I guess that makes up for it, right?" Gingerstep reasoned.
Sedgestrike smirked, shrugging. "Sure, I guess."
Falling into step behind her, Sedgestrike noticed a small formation of warriors awaited their arrival with impatient tail flicks. Mothfur and Palemist were exchanging annoyed glances as Snakefang, loudest among them, greeted Sedgestrike and Gingerstep with a disapproving stare. The mottled brown tom's pelt was wrinkled with irritation.
"We're way behind schedule!" he snapped, eyeballing Sedgestrike critically. "It's about time you two got here."
Sedgestrike would've found Snakefang more intimidating if he didn't have the build and bulk of a twig. "We're sentinels, not a border patrol, it's not like we all have to leave together," she pointed out dryly. "But if you're too scared to monitor the grounds alone, I guess I can hold your tail."
Snakefang spat, lashing his long tail. "How else can I hold you accountable? For all I know, you could just laze in camp all day and never leave."
"That would mean disobeying a lawful order," Sedgestrike countered, raising her chin. "And that's a crime I do not wish to be accused of."
"Order?" Snakefang echoed with a growl. "Nice try. Spiderfang told me all of you were volunteers and that you were getting the day off as a reward."
"Volunteers? But I-"
"Enough of the back and forth, hm?" Mothfur interjected sternly. There was a warning glint in his amber eyes as he regarded Sedgestrike. "We're wasting daylight."
Something in Sedgestrike told her to back down despite her confusion. She didn't volunteer for this at all! If it were up to her, she would be curled up in her nest right now. Giving an annoyed snort, she nodded stiffly to the older warrior, yielding. She found Gingerstep's golden eyes, noticing her give her another apologetic grin. Sedgestrike's pelt prickled. What was going on?
"Well," Snakefang huffed, shaking off his irritation and raising his chin importantly. "Let's set off then, shall we?"
Rolling her eyes, Sedgestrike followed after Snakefang as he led the company of sentinels out into the marsh. Breaking through the thick barrier of sawgrass and cane, Sedgestrike was greeted by a vast expanse of murky swampland. Water oozed between thick mounds of mud, glistening with the burning sun. It was not long before Sedgestrike's fur was smeared with peat, slicking it back. The ripe odor of bog welcomed her home. After being surrounded by the sickly sweet perfume of the orange groves, she was put at ease by the familiarity of soiled earth.
Falling into step next to her, Mothfur was staring ahead with an unreadable expression, as usual. "When we pick our patrol areas, ask for the pine forest," he whispered under his breath.
Looking at him quizzically, Sedgestrike frowned. "Wha-"
"Don't ask questions. Just do it." If Mothfur was not always so dreadfully monotone, Sedgestrike would've suspected he was threatening her.
Heart skipping into a sprint, Sedgestrike began to feel like this had something to do with Blueflower. What if Mothfur overheard them in the grove last night? Sedgestrike's mouth went dry. She righted her expression, frowning deeply. "Fine."
Nodding, Mothfur padded ahead of her as Snakefang led the cats into the palmetto grove. Locusts screeched from the pine trees that were sparsely strewn between the palmettos. Above, within the branches of the pine, Sedgestrike spotted a red-shouldered hawk preening its tawny feathers, unbothered by the presence of cats. She admired the sheen of its feathers and the uncaring gleam in its amber eyes. Meanwhile, she remained grounded, slathered in mud, with a dull glint in her golden eyes. Tired. Must be nice to fly, she mused.
Turning to the others, Snakefang's glowering eyes were unblinking in their intensity. "It's time we divide the territory."
"I'll take the riverbank," Palemist announced immediately. Her blue eyes dared Snakefang to refuse her claim.
"Very well," Snakefang growled.
Sedgestrike could feel Mothfur's amber eyes boring into her pelt, scorching it. She knew, if this did concern Blueflower, she had to play nice. "And I'll take the pine forest," Sedgestrike added her piece grudgingly.
"I'll take the Starlit Springs… If-if that's okay?" Gingerstep piped up nervously.
Snakefang nodded, his gaze flitting to Mothfur. "And you?"
"I'll remain here," Mothfur decided.
Snakefang looked at each of the warriors in turn, nodding with satisfaction. "That leaves me with the swamp beside camp." He raised his long tail with added importance. "You all know the drill, maintain vigilance in your area of responsibility. If anything suspicious goes on, you're to report it back to camp at once. At sunset, we will rendezvous here and return to camp to turnover with the night sentinels."
"Understood," Sedgestrike murmured in unison with the rest of the sentinels.
Snakefang promptly left the palmettos, disappearing beyond the spikey fronds, back towards the marshland. Palemist took her leave as well, albeit more gracefully than Snakefang, gliding back through the pine forest on her way to the river border. Sedgestrike hesitated as Mothfur remained in place, staring at her. In confusion, she also noticed that Gingerstep failed to depart as well. Both cats hovered before her as if she were a snake, either one of them hesitant to proceed; it was a stare-down.
"Okay, what's this all about, then?" Sedgestrike growled, bristling. Mothfur was still and silent, a statue. His lack of response only irked Sedgestrike more, and she reared her head back with a snort. "If your only intent was to waste my time, you could've had the decency to wait until after the heat of day."
"Sedgestrike," Gingerstep mewed uneasily. "We aren't here to waste time. We're here to help."
"Yeah?" Sedgestrike turned on her, lip curled. "Help me what?" Mistrust burned through her. She felt cornered. The heat was only stoking the fire that set her blood to boil; locusts still screamed around them, as if their wings were being seared by the sun rays.
"Easy does it," Mothfur warned, stepping forward as Gingerstep took a pace back. "You're just going to have to trust us."
"That's rich." Sedgestrike rolled her eyes. As if she would trust anyone in MarshClan besides her family and Blueflower. Still, she was in no position to negotiate. She was the one walking on thin ice, not them. For all she knew, they could both be in on a scheme to rat her out to Whitestar. Ugh, I'm getting paranoid, she realized. "Fine," Sedgestrike relented, glaring at them. "Where are we going?"
"To the Great Cypress," Mothfur replied.
The heat did not improve even as the cats padded through the shade. The pine forest smelled richly of warm evergreen, which tickled Sedgestrike's nose as her paws disturbed the blanket of pine needles laiden on the ground. Scrub jays flitted from branch to branch, squawking excitedly as the three warriors ducked under bushes and lept over roots. Waves of heat rippled between the narrow tree trunks before them, taunting Sedgestrike. Her thick fur, though cooled earlier by the slick mud, was now crusted with the remains, which fell off her rippling muscles in clumpy clods that left a breadcrumb trail as she went deeper into the woods. She was aware of Mothfur and Gingerstep walking on either side of her like escorts. Were they afraid of her running?
Ahead, the Great Cypress stood in all its glory. Its broad, strong trunk was wide enough to fit several pine trees within its girth. Its branches flourished with leaves in the heat of riverswell, greedily soaking up the sunshine that filtered through. Gnarled roots beckoned the cats closer, curling inward and outward like a cat's swaying tail. Lichen swung lazily from the canopy, casting long shadows that rocked to and fro, nonchalant.
At the foot of the cypress, in the dark of its massive shadow, sat Blueflower. Upon meeting her gaze, Sedgestrike's heart thundered to life. How did she get here? Tempted to rush to greet her, Sedgestrike jerked forward, only to stop abruptly when she remembered their company. She gave a huff of impatience, glancing between Mothfur and Gingerstep.
"You made it!" chirped Littlebrook, peeking from behind a large root. Her blue eyes twinkled. "It's about time!"
Sedgestrike hesitated, puzzled by Littlebrook's sudden appearance. Blueflower was smiling, to Sedgestrike's relief. Though she had no idea what was going on, at least she knew she wasn't in peril.
"Well, well…" Molefoot yawned. Sedgestrike craned her head to see the small cat laying in the shade beside Blueflower; their dark fur blended seamlessly with the shade. "So you ended up escaping Snakefang's clutches?" Their kinked whiskers twitched with amusement.
"It's wasn't easy," grunted Mothfur. "He took his leadership role very seriously." If not for the blankness of his visage, Sedgestrike would think he was exasperated.
A rasping voice coming from behind a tangle of roots upchurned from the earth put Sedgestrike on edge. "You're here. That's all that matters." A stocky ginger cat stepped out to join the others. Redleaf.
"So, what is this?" Sedgestrike asked finally, eyeing Redleaf with suspicion.
Blueflower offered a small smile. "This is us."
Mothfur and Gingerstep left Sedgestrike's side to stand with Blueflower. Together, all their eyes fell on Sedgestrike, anticipating her response. If she wasn't confused before, she sure was now.
"We are Risen." Blueflower's smile became wider. "The cats that want to rise against Whitestar."
"You mean… you… all of you are…" Sedgestrike dared not say the word.
"Traitors, yes." Mothfur said it for her, unfeeling.
Sedgestrike's eyes widened. Before her were the very cats that Whitestar and the Paragons lusted for, the ones they longed to see dead: traitors, multiples of them. Anxiety wormed inside Sedgestrike. Blueflower unveiled Risen to her, not knowing just how close she was to the very cats, and the ethereal entities, that wanted to kill them. Her paws itched. Something dark inside her squirmed.
Kill them. Kill them. Kill them!
Squeezing her eyes shut, Sedgestrike shook her head. "I won't… this is…"
Blueflower approached her slowly, her sweet scent curling around her. "I know this is a lot, but, please… Listen."
Sedgestrike gazed up, finding herself lost in her deep blue eyes. "I will," she whispered.
Nodding, Blueflower stepped back, nodding to the other cats that gathered under the cypress. "We can trust her," she assured them. "She needs to know."
"What makes you say that?" Mothfur asked, eyes narrowed. "She could turn…"
"Yeah, Blueflower," Gingerstep mewed, eyes becoming shifty. "Maybe this isn't a good idea?"
"I'd trust Sedgestrike with my life," Blueflower growled, standing her ground. "She could be the one we need… I can feel it."
Sedgestrike stared at Blueflower with awe as she stood between her and the cats known as "Risen." With her head held high and tail raised high with confidence, she looked like a completely different warrior from the passive she-cat that kept to herself in MarshClan camp. Sedgestrike found herself smiling.
"If Blueflower trusts her then so do I," Molefoot mewed, rising to their paws with a grin. "She's never steered us wrong before."
Littlebrook piped up. "I second that one!"
Mothfur hesitated, going quiet, but finally gave a nod.
Gingerstep's nerves still seemed rattled, for she forgot to speak until all eyes were on her. "Right, no-yeah, you're right," she relented squeakily.
Redleaf remained quiet during the exchange, expressing neither favor nor ill will against her. He was staring at is paws, eyes glazed over.
"So, you all want Whitestar out of power?" Sedgestrike pressed. Hope fluttered in her heart. Maybe she wasn't alone? "Why?"
Blueflower turned, her blue eyes darkening. "Because we know what she's done, and we believe she wants to do worse."
Sedgestrike nodded grimly, the memory of Vinestripe's murder fresh in her mind. "I understand," she rasped.
"There used to be more of us," Gingerstep whispered forlornly, her head dipping. "We've… lost many in our efforts. And some-" She paused, voice failing her. "Some innocents got caught in the crosshairs."
Immediately, Sedgestrike knew Gingerstep was alluding to Egretsong, her littermate. When Minnowtail set Scorchface, a Fallen, free, he was forced to blind the warrior in their escape. Gingerstep's expression was torn, bordering on ripping completely, with an emotion so feral in its sorrow that Sedgestrike could not bare to look at her any longer.
"We're running out of options," Mothfur continued stoically. At least his face was never contorted with heart-wrenching emotions. For once, Sedgestrike relished his delightfully blank expression. "Whitestar is growing more suspicious… and vicious. Fewer Fallen are willing to stand up against her."
"What do you mean?" Sedgestrike pressed, nerves struck. "The Fallen are giving up?"
Molefoot shrugged. "It doesn't matter! We don't need them. We have each other… and you!"
Sedgestrike stepped back, shocked. "Me?"
"You're in Whitestar's inner circle," Molefoot hissed, their grizzled chin twitching excitedly. "You're strong. The Clan respects you. No one will ever suspect a thing." Their lips curled into a toothy grin. "With you and Redleaf on our side, we have a chance.
Sedgestrike pondered, eyes fixed on the soft earth that cushioned the cypress roots. This was her chance. Maybe with Risen, she could finally resist her destiny and fight back against the ones that she feared? If she wasn't alone, she had a better chance of winning. Though she was uncertain about working alongside Redleaf, she knew she couldn't ignore the opportunity to beat Whitestar. Her eyes gazed at the Risen, and they gazed back at her. She needed them just as much as they needed her.
"I'm in," she growled, smiling.
"Woohoo!" Littlebrook cheered, her voice ringing high above the rest. "I knew she'd do it!"
Blueflower touched her nose to Sedgestrike's smiling and laughing with a mixture of joy and relief. "I love you," she whispered, making Sedgestrike melt. "We can do this. Together."
All along, Sedgestrike longed for a place in her Clan. For so long, she thought she was alone, and overnight, her isolation was erased. As she stared around at the smiling faces that surrounded her, she knew that she was where she belonged. Gingerstep seemed relieved, giggling softly. Molefoot was hopping up and down on their small paws. Even Mothfur cracked a grin. She realized she was laughing and smiling with them, her heart swimming with ease in a stream of happiness. With Risen, she could be with Blueflower. With Risen, she could stop Whitestar. No more cats would be hurt for doubting her reign, and the Eternal Night wouldn't take over…
The Eternal Night.
Sedgestrike stopped laughing. Her sudden seriousness caught the attention of the other cats; they too fell silent. "I need to tell you what I know," she murmured.
Blueflower went to her side, giving her an encouraging nudge. "We're willing to listen. Come join us in the shade?"
Obliging her offer, Sedgestrike sat amongst the Risen, suddenly hyper-aware of all eyes focused intently on her. She shivered inwardly; the last time she shared what she knew, she ended up losing her littermates' trust and could've also lost her best friend. She wondered, apprehensively, if history would repeat itself. Wrapping her bushy tail around her big paws with a sigh, she gazed at the cats around her.
"As you already know, Whitestar has been killing cats that speak or act out against her; any cat that shows the slightest bit of mistrust could be put to trial… and secretly executed," Sedgestrike began.
The Risen nodded amongst themselves, forlorn. Blueflower in particular looked melancholy; the glistening in her deep blue eyes betrayed her inner torment, disturbed like a ripple within a still lake.
"As one of the honor graduates, Ospreyflight and I… were invited to join a group." Sedgestrike paused to glance around for any sign that someone uninvited was listening in. She feared that the moment she mentioned the Order of the Destined Paragons, one of them would spring into existence before them and accuse them of treason. "The Order of the Destined Paragons."
"Oh, jeez… We know of them," Molefoot growled, rolling their eyes. "The group of cats that get together to congratulate each other on being masters of the universe."
Sedgestrike managed a smirk at their humorous remark; it faded as she continued. "The paragons… Well, in order to join… you see-you have to-I…"
"Sedgestrike," Blueflower mewed worriedly. "You didn't-"
"Let her speak." Redleaf spoke up finally. "What she is about to speak is the truth." His eyes seemed to hold a challenge, as if he dared her to speak her mind.
Sedgestrike felt like she was choking. Why couldn't say what she did? Her paws burned and ached like she was walking on hot sand all day. Instead of saying anything, she raised one of her paws, turning it up to unveil the pad, which still bore a deep, jagged scar across the fleshy middle.
A collective gasp sounded from the gathered warriors. They stared with bulging eyes and hanging jaws, speechless.
"You took the mark." Blueflower frowned, looking to Sedgestrike sadly. "Why would you do that?"
"You know of it?" Sedgestrike started, eyes wide. "The night I took it, I didn't know what it meant… I felt like I didn't have a choice. It just… happened," she asserted, feeling guilty, and brought her paw back down. "But, with this, I swore fidelity to the Place of Eternal Night."
The disappointment in the stares of the cats around her felt deserved, but it didn't stop her from bristling defensively. "It's not like I knew what I was doing! I didn't know what it meant." Sedgestrike couldn't meet Blueflower's stare.
"The Eternal Night…" Redleaf mused, narrowing his eyes. "A dark divine entity. StarClan's contender in the heavens. They're like StarClan but not… I don't know how to describe Them. All I know is that the cats that go there are dangerous." His eyes flashed as they fell on Sedgestrike. "And those dangerous cats are very, very powerful."
Sedgestrike felt a growl rise in her throat as her frustration grew. It felt like something shoved a filter down her throat. They're vile! Evil! Nothing good will come from Them! She could think those thoughts, but the moment she tried to speak them her tongue felt heavy and sat uselessly in her mouth.
"We know who They are but... " Gingerstep was shivering as she spoke. "What do They want?"
"MarshClan," Sedgestrike answered through gritted teeth. "They want MarshClan to worship Them and adhere to Their agenda."
"Which is what?" Blueflower pressed urgently.
Sedgestrike shrugged, feeling useless. "I'm not entirely sure… I just know They are connected to how Whitestar has been treating cats that express displeasure with her rule."
Blueflower thumped her tail against the ground thoughtfully. "So there is something more sinister involved…"
"It's all coming to a head," Molefoot grunted, glaring at their small black paws. "We can't afford to wait any longer. We must act!" Their black fur, peppered with gray, began to prickle.
Mothfur spoke up first, his voice a deep rumble compared to Molefoot's squeak. "No. We're at a disadvantage; there aren't many of us, and we don't know if the Fallen will want to cooperate."
Sedgestrike's brow furrowed. As much as she wanted to take on Whitestar, she knew the risk of attacking her head-on. With dark forces at play, Risen would need a lot more than a few able-bodied cats to win. But what? She felt so close she could taste it.
"Perhaps Redleaf will know what to do?" Littlebrook offered hopefully, turning to the medicine cat with a smile.
Redleaf shuffled his paws; his lofty body shook as he cleared his throat importantly. "There are forces at play beyond our understanding… and it is because of this lack of foresight on our part that I surmise one solution: we do not act."
"What?!" Molefoot snapped, eyes glinting.
Redleaf's gaze was even as he regarded the miffed warrior. "While you are right to assume Sedgestrike's presence will help us, there is more to her than meets the eye." His gaze turned to Sedgestrike, testing her reaction. "She has a destiny in her that we will never be able to comprehend. Therefore, we can never truly understand her desires."
Sedgestrike bristled at Redleaf's implication. "You know what I want," she protested, looking at all the Risen in turn. "I want to help you guys! Whatever destiny Redleaf speaks of," she growled, eyeing him challengingly, "it will never change how I feel. I am willing to stand and fight with Risen."
"We believe you," Blueflower assured her gently, glaring at Redleaf, as if daring him to say otherwise. "I'm not sure what destiny you speak of, but Sedgestrike is on our side."
Redleaf frowned, sighing abatedly. "Fine, fine… I will relent as much."
"As eventful as this meeting is," Mothfur rumbled, "it cannot continue. It is passed sunhigh and we've yet to conduct our duties. There's no need to draw more attention to ourselves than necessary."
"Agreed," Redleaf grunted.
"Then it's adjourned," Mothfur decided. The older warrior left without another word, silently stalking back to the palmettos with his head held low.
"I guess we should get back to hunting, huh?" Molefoot realized, grumbling. Littlebrook joined them, nodding solemnly. Neither seemed excited to return to their duties.
Sedgestrike watched Risen slowly dissipate, stirred by their closeness. Gingerstep quickly ran after Mothfur, murmuring to him gently. Littlebrook and Molefoot's fur was touching as they left together, talking amongst themselves quietly.
"All of us are bound by our losses," Blueflower mewed to Sedgestrike, coming to stand by her side as they watched the cats leave. "Our shared pain creates binds deeper than blood, and when one of us gets hurt or… worse… it-it really shakes us."
"You should be able to live fearlessly," Sedgestrike grumbled. "I never knew I didn't have the freedom to question until I realized I was too afraid to do so in the first place."
"We're going to change that," Blueflower promised, brushing against her. The sweet scent of her fur soothed Sedgestrike. "Together."
Sedgestrike nodded. "Together."
As Blueflower took her leave, Sedgestrike was painfully aware of Redleaf lingering behind her. She turned to see the medicine cat watching her like one would watch a rat curled up in their path. She curled her lip at him, knowing he was about to say something that would piss her off again.
"What are you planning?" he growled. "These cats are working hard to make a difference."
"I want to help them!" she hissed, exasperated. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"
"Because you were born to do the exact opposite."
Sedgestrike flinched, stricken by his words. "My destiny is my own. Nothing and no one can change that."
"Easier said than done," Redleaf spat. "Don't mistake your stubbornness for bravery. Your actions could cost these cats their lives."
"Their lives are already on the line everyday Whitestar is in power," Sedgestrike pointed out.
"Oh, and you, her modeled pet, will be the one to stop her?" Redleaf sneered. "I think you underestimate just how deep the claws of the Eternal Night have sunken into you."
"The only one underestimating anything is you, Redleaf," Sedgestrike retorted threateningly. "You're paranoid."
Redleaf moved so quickly, Sedgestrike could barely blink before he was upon her, staring her down, only a whisker's length away. "You hear Their voices, don't you?" he whispered hoarsely. The fear in his eyes had grown raw, rotting like carrion in the sockets. "You see Them in your dreams. You cannot sleep a wink without Them being there, waiting." He chuckled humorlessly. "You are as much Their slave as I am. No matter how much we try to fight it… We cannot escape," his rasping voice was a ghostly whisper.
Sedgestrike shoved him away, hissing. "You're insane. If anyone is going to bring ruin to Risen, it's you. You may be scared, you may have given up, but I'm still here, and I'm ready to fight."
Turning her back on the medicine cat, she heard his cackle as she ran back into the pine forest. It sounded like tree branches creaking in the wind, chasing after her. "Mark my words, Sedgestrike!" Redleaf cried out. "The only one you will be saving in the end is yourself! You should've left when you had the chance!"