Chapter 2
Thank you for holding me.
In the dark and dusty ledgers of the place called unknown, the grave of the willers and the home of the damned, the black and white image of a spirit passes through the thin corridors, walls rusted and rotted with time.
The light grew dim, but remained visible was the ghostly presence, "Where are you going, spirit, so urgently?" The wanderer asked,
"The moon is my savior now, with no vistage to mark me for life," The spirit replied.
Words shared and decreed, the spirit disappeared from sight, leaving the wanderer to explore deeper the steps that lay before.
The air was hot, yet the ground remained frigid, a battling difference that created confusion in the body.
Color was absent from the dreamscape, save the green, sharp eyes that the wanderer possessed. All the rest was blacks and whites and grays.
Even the flowers, lined by each side of the wall in an asymmetrical manner, were spotted with gray dots and lined with white, their stems dark though mostly kept secret, hidden beneath the hard stone flooring.
A small echo drifted throughout the halls, the sound of wind reflecting upon itself, though none could be felt in the air.
He turned for a moment, just to see the same thing behind him as he did in front. He didn't know which way he was going, and he wouldn't know until he made it to wherever it led.
Everything here was just empty, the cracks on the walls holding nothing but more stone behind them; The reflections on the ceilings holding no life, though being a copy of his own.
It was in this moment that the wanderer sat, leaned against a fallen bit of the ceiling big enough to rest upon.
Even this crumb was warm, the ground the only thing to remain as it was, frozen to the touch.
There was a soft hum that rose slowly in the air, some sort of unnatural sound that had made its way to this place.
Paying it no mind, the wanderer stood up, tired, and continued walking down the hall, bent to find where it led.
Loneheart awoke quickly. He had been jabbed in the side with unsheathed claws. His breathing was heavy, and his heart threatened to tear itself out of his chest.
Still startled, he looked around, only to see complete darkness. He was still in the warriors' den, he could tell, but he wasn't sure yet what had woken him.
As his eyes adjusted to the dark of the early morning, he saw barely the eyes belonging to Berryflight, shone bright against the otherwise barren sights before him, "Come on," She whispered, before ducking back out of the den, leaving Loneheart to gather himself for a moment.
All of his clanmates were still sleeping, safe in their own dreamlands for the time being. He began to think about the impending war again, and what it meant.
This must be how the cats in Windclan and Riverclan were when they slept, calm, safe, and beautiful.
It struck him strange, how such peace in sleep could end in spilt blood when the morning rose.
He picked himself up and got outside, where he stretched and shook his fur in the freezing air, his body fighting him to go back into the den where there was warmth.
Berryflight was waiting for him right outside, a bundle of herbs at her paws, "Eat these and then you have to get going," She seemed to be very tired, giving him straightforward orders and seeming a bit prickly at the moment.
Loneheart didn't say anything back and just did as she said, eating the sour herbs and following her to the camp entrance.
Before he departed, she said to him, "Go first to Shadowclan and move on from there,"
"Okay, thank you," Loneheart replied. Berryflight just turned her head and walked away.
The stars were few, as the morning was almost here now, and even without any wind around, the air was cold enough to really be dangerous.
Thunderclaw, who was the active guard, greeted him with a nod as he walked out to the ravine.
Loneheart returned the gesture but had very little desire to stick around further.
The rocks were slippery climbing out, having frozen over through the night.
There wasn't any snow on the ground by now, and yet it felt as though he was sinking into it as his paws touched the grass.
He barely remembered snow now, having only been just born in the last leaf-fall.
He could only remember vague images, which most likely weren't even real memories, rather dreams of the events at later points.
Every memory he had from the first few moons of his life were in a different perspective, as if he was watching himself play out these scenes.
There were never any faces in these thoughts, they weren't vivid enough for that.
He couldn't remember his mother's face.
A pang of grief hit him, and with it, a wave of worse memories, bringing thoughts of Acornpaw, Red, and Gorsewhisker, who had been so long forgotten already.
He had to get his mind away from it all, so he found distraction in a couple of sharp stones on the ground.
He balanced himself with two paws, one on each, them both digging into his skin, and he just waited to see how long he could last.
It stung, but every time he fell off he would just get back on again, occasionally having to switch paws before it became completely unbearable, even if that was what he was looking for.
He kept this up until the thoughts of pain became the only thing in his head, and then he began his walk off, paws busted and bruised.
The cold ground helped to ease the sting slightly, but it was already too late when Loneheart realized his mistake.
He was going to have to travel all day with this now. He picked up the pace a bit, thinking that the pain would be the same whether he was running or walking.
As he stormed through the familiar woods, he felt the cold rush of adrenaline in his veins.
It was an odd sensation, one that made him only want to keep running.
His breath was rapid, and his fur was being blown the wrong way in the wind, and yet there was just a simple joy running through the territory.
Shadowclan was his first target, who's leader he had never seen much before, though Rustpaw didn't seem to like him very much.
As much as he thought, he couldn't bring to mind the leader's name.
As he neared the Thunderpath, and with it, Shadowclan territory, he grew a bit sad realizing he wouldn't be able to run freely throughout the territory, not knowing where he was going.
He was also going to have to find a patrol to guide him to camp.
Usually, cats would wait at the edge of the border for one to come by, but Loneheart felt like this was too urgent and too time consuming to do that, and just decided that he was going to wander around until he came upon someone.
But first he would have to cross the Thunderpath.
It lay before him, this great danger, ugly gray, cracked and reeking of the city, a smell Loneheart always wished he would be able to forget someday.
He approached cautiously, knowing that he could lose his life in an instant for just one wrong step.
The last time he had been here he had bore witness to a Shadowclan cat getting hit and breaking both of her front paws, only barely escaping death.
Feeling the ground for vibrations and checking his line of vision for monsters, he made a mad sprint for the other side.
In only a second he had tumbled himself onto grass again, no danger lurking behind him. He was now in Shadowclan territory, and his anxiety started to creep up again.
The forest on this side of the Thunderpath was dark, shrouded by pine trees and maze-like in nature.
The sky was filled with thousands of pines, turning it almost black.
The wind hardly blew here, masked by the bushes that stained the ground everywhere he went.
It was a well protected territory, one that didn't seem like it could hold any danger if he lived there and knew it well.
But he didn't, so to Loneheart, it seemed that at any moment, something would leap out of him, and he would barely have the time to process it before he was ripped apart.
He just kept walking forwards, hoping it would lead him somewhere, or to someone.
Listening closely for any noises, he picked up the sounds of rustling in every direction, but he wasn't sure if it was real or if it was just his paranoia.
Now deep in the woods, unable to remember even which way he had come, he picked up voices in the distance, laughter.
He stalked towards where the sounds came from, hoping to find Rustpaw, or anyone who seemed like they would help him.
As he got closer, he could make out distinctly the voices of four different cats, none of which he really recognized, although he might have heard one of them before somewhere.
From some nearby bushes he spied the scene, a training session between two apprentices and their mentors.
The two younger cats were sparring each other playfully, whilst their respective others sat off at the side.
Loneheart hadn't hidden his scent, and as one of the older warriors smelled the air, he stepped out into the small clearing, hoping to avoid an awkward encounter.
Immediately, the two warriors sprung to action to confront him, snarling but waiting for Loneheart to make the move before they attacked.
The apprentices were a bit slow to understand what was happening, but when they figured it out they ran to stand by their mentors, mimicking their snarls but trying to be louder than the warriors, "What are you doing, trespasser?" The older one asked,
"I-I have to, talk to your leader," Loneheart replied quietly, his ears bent back,
"What do you have talking to him?"
"I've got, a message from Barkstar," The warrior looked skeptical but seemed interested in what Loneheart had to say.
She turned to the apprentices and in turn said to them, "Pinepaw, Hazepaw, run to camp and tell Greenstar of this," So the Shadowclan leader's name was Greenstar.
The apprentices both hesitated a second, probably upset at missing out on this event any further, but they both nodded and set off quickly into the woods.
The other warrior who hadn't spoken yet stared after them for a second and then said, "I'm going to go with them. They don't know the forest well enough yet. You shouldn't have sent them off on their own. Besides," He reasoned, "You can deal with one Thunderclanner without me. He barely looks past being an apprentice,"
The older warrior barely broke her gaze at Loneheart, perhaps afraid he was going to run off or try to attack, "Say," The younger warrior spoke again, in a voice that sounded somewhat familiar, "What is your name, Thunderclanner?" He looked deep into Lonehearts eyes, and a look of recognition blew across him.
The warrior looked shocked and caught off guard.
Loneheart was about to answer with his name, but the Shadowclan tom instead just mumbled out, "Sorry," and ran off. Loneheart was confused now.
He didn't really know what just happened, and looking at the older warrior, she didn't seem to know either, "Walk beside me," She demanded when she regained her composure.
Loneheart did as she said but noticed that as they began to walk in the direction of Shadowclan camp, the older warrior kept a little behind him, obviously to make sure he didn't try anything.
It all looked the same from there, every bush, every tree, there was nothing significant to make out about any of them, but he supposed it would be the same feeling if he was a Shadowclan cat in Thunderclan territory.
He almost tried to strike up a conversation, to ask the Shadowclan cat her name, but she didn't seem keen to talk.
And so they walked in silence, until at last coming upon the sounds of cats up ahead.
There were many of them shouting, seeming afraid or angry. Loneheart had forgotten what the camp had looked like up until this point, and he had also forgotten the stares he got from the Shadowclan cats.
They were less subtle with their distaste as opposed to Thunderclan, but if he had to choose one, he would still go with Shadowclan.
The apprentices whom he saw earlier, Pinepaw and Hazepaw he believed were their names, were grouped together looking rather pleased with themselves, like they had done a good job.
From between the two of them, a much larger cat passed through to greet him. Loneheart recognized him from gatherings as the Shadowclan leader, presumably named Greenstar.
Loneheart felt his neck flinch. The great cat then began to speak, "Welcome, visitor. I've heard that there is news to be shared?"
"Yes, uh, I've got a message from Barkstar," Loneheart had a hard time getting his words out, with so many eyes on him,
"Come to my den and we will discuss," With that he started to walk off, before making one last note, "Blacktail! You come too," He called.
As Loneheart started to follow their path slowly, he looked around for a few different cats.
Rustpaw was nowhere to be seen among the crowd that watched on with strange bewilderment in their eyes.
Of all the cats he wanted to talk to, Rustpaw was greatest of them all. The apprentice had always been there when Loneheart needed him, but not now.
He did see Thawfire though, who looked to him without anger, but still surprised and concerned at his being there.
He locked eyes for a moment with the warrior from earlier who had gone with the apprentices to make sure they didn't get lost in the forest.
Then it came to him in an instant.
His sad eyes, his down-low ears, his unstable posture.
His name was Darkoak.
He had an apprentice, Antpaw, who Loneheart had met once.
He had almost forgotten now, that memory.
Tornclaw had poked her head out of the Medicine Cat Den to see Lonehearts arrival.
He felt a wave of anger wash over him, one which he had only ever felt towards this cat.
She hated him with more passion than Starclan themselves, and he hated her back.
After that, just a lot of nameless faces stood in front of him now, as he backed away and averted his gaze, trying as fast to enter the leader's den now that he knew there was no one for him out there.
It was really just Rustpaw who he wanted now. Inside the den, masked by early morning mist, was just a simple nest.
There were bird feathers that decorated it, but other than that, the room was empty, save from the three cats who had just entered.
The older cats had already sat down, and Loneheart followed suit. After a moment of silence, he realized that he was expected to be the one to begin talking, "Barkstar has, proposed, an uh, a meeting between all the, uh, clans,"
He messed up his words, unsure of how to speak properly, though the leader, and presumably his deputy, paid it no mind, listening intently, "He wants to, to discuss the, uh, thing going on and, uh, make some rules around it,"
"Such as?" Greenstar prompted,
"Like, a new, code for wartimes," It hurt him to say that part, but he would have to get used to it now,
"How quaint. Why come to Shadowclan? We have no involvement in the conflict,"
"I'm, going to all the clans,"
"Ah," Greenstar shared a long look with Blacktail, before turning back, "I see no reason to not come. At worst, it'll just be a waste of time, and I trust Barkstar enough to know that that won't be true,"
"Thank you," Loneheart made motions to leave, but Greenstar stopped him,
"And when can we expect this meeting to occur?"
"Oh, uh, three nights, at Fourtrees," Now Loneheart was sat back down and wasn't sure what to do now. It was just awkward for a moment, until Greenstar said something that Loneheart wasn't expecting,
"Who are you looking for?" The question shocked him. He wasn't sure what was real now,
"What?" He said, purely out of reaction. Greenstar took a look to Blacktail and spoke,
"You can go now, Blacktail," The tom bowed his head and quickly left the den. He hadn't said a word the entire time. Now it was just the two of them, "So," Greenstar started, "Who is it you are looking for?"
"Why would I be looking for anyone?" Loneheart asked, half genuine, half lie,
"I see your eyes; you haven't broken to that point. I see desire in them, the want for someone. There's something here that you want, perhaps a friend, perhaps and enemy, perhaps a lover, maybe it was just someone interesting that you spotted on your way in, but I can see, plain as a dead meadow, something has struck you, deeply,"
"I just wanted to see Rustpaw," Loneheart caved, knowing he couldn't hide anything,
"Rustheart,"
Rustheart. He was a warrior now. He wasn't shocked, but it was good to know that his friend was now a warrior, "Why did you want to see him?" Greenstar asked, ripping Loneheart from his momentary thoughts,
"I just, I wanted to see him. He's my friend," Greenstar looked down for a moment, maybe in defeat, or disappointment, but he looked back up soon enough, "You're very strange," Loneheart wasn't sure what to say to this, "What's your name, Thunderclanner? I don't believe you've said,"
"Loneheart," A look of small realization and understanding then hit the Shadowclan leader,
"Come with me," He said, and stood up, leading Loneheart through the bright mist.
They ended just one step outside the den, not quite enough for cats to really notice them there, but still able to see everything that happened, "Look at him," Greenstar said, pointing with his paw to Blacktail, who was organizing morning patrols for hunting and renewing the scent marker, most cats in camp huddled around him awaiting orders,
"That, is Rusthearts father. He is one of my greatest warriors, my deputy, and my greatest friend. He's a silent cat, empathetic without many words. Rustheart may just be the opposite of him in that regard. He's got a lot to say, more than he can fit into words. He believes he's right and will do everything he can to prove it. He is empathetic too. Were you at the gathering?"
"Yes," Loneheart whispered barely able to choke the word out,
"Well then I suppose you know what I'm saying. Both cats are something special I think. Now, I can't tell you much about much, but do cherish your time together, because soon you'll be like me, cursed and lied to, old and done. I won't recommend this as the leader of Shadowclan, as that I must say that you should never get too close with a cat from another clan, but, as a cat I'll tell you, make something with your time. It doesn't have to be perfect, not even good, but just make something before time runs out and your day is over,"
Loneheart just kept staring off at Blacktail as he finished sending the last cats that he needed away for their duties.
He thought about what Greenstar said, and he couldn't quite make full sense of it.
Turning around, he noticed the Shadowclan leader was missing from sight, undoubtedly hidden back in the depths of his den. With nothing else left, he headed towards Blacktail to announce his departure.
The morning was cold and the thin mist that covered the ground made it seem that much colder.
The deputy turned as he heard Loneheart approach, and waited patiently for him to start speaking, "I'm, going to leave now,"
"Wait a moment. I have to find someone to send with you," Blacktail looked from side to side for a second, and then began padding to the nearest den, probably the warriors' den, but he was interrupted before he got far,
"I'll do it," It was Rustheart, just coming into camp. Loneheart found his eyes and they locked together.
He looked tired, his eyes dreary despite how much he was trying to hold them up.
His fur was matted on one side, and there was a tuft of fur missing from one of his hind legs,
"Thank you," Blacktail said sincerely, soft and maybe surprised at the offer, "Which way are you going now?" He asked to Loneheart.
He replied without breaking gaze, "Windclan," And, still keeping eye contact with Rustheart, Loneheart approached him slowly and they silently began to make their way out of camp, side by side. As he kept looking at his friend, he kept noticing things, small things, but they seemed to be important.
Many of his hairs were slightly pricked up, as if he was afraid. His head was down, and his eyes drifted from Loneheart and onto the forest floor, kicking mist of his way as they went.
They walked in complete silence until Rustheart suddenly just sat on the ground with a thud, "Let's just, sit for a minute man," Loneheart followed suit, making his place next to the new warrior, "Well," He tried to start, "It's hard to start the first conversation knowin what's on your mind, man,"
"Yeah," Loneheart said quietly, and then once again even quieter, "How have you, held up?"
"I'm just, I'm, just. I don't know man, it's hard to find the words I need, man. They just ain't there,"
"I heard you got your warrior name,"
"Yeah," Rustheart gave a small, sad laugh, "Yeah, Rustheart. I'd forgotten about that,"
"Are you okay?" Loneheart asked the question he hated being asked himself,
"Yeah, yeah man I'm fine. Uh, listen man, just go that way," He pointed with his tail, "That'll get ya to Windclan, just gotta, cross the Thunderpath. I'm, I'm gonna stay here a while, you, go on. I'll see you, some time," Loneheart didn't know what to do now.
Despite what he said, it seemed like Rustheart needed him, but Loneheart wasn't sure what to do.
He didn't know how to comfort him, he didn't know how to offer sympathy, he didn't know what would happen if he tried, and he was afraid of trying.
So, calling himself a coward, he just said, "Okay," defeatedly.
He paused for a moment and finally was able to say what he had been wanting to say, "Thank you for holding me," Rustheart didn't respond, and Loneheart walked off, leaving his friend there alone.
It made him feel guilty, but he was sure that it just would've gotten worse the longer he stayed.
He just kept telling himself that he had to keep moving, he had a job and it had to be done quickly, but he knew that wasn't the reason or an excuse for leaving.
He didn't know if it was his fault, but it sure felt it.
Until I write again,
-Gojira
