Storm Incoming

Rain is pouring down into the so-called 'prophesized land'. Flamepaw is shaking. Is it the cold? Or is it the shock? She can't discern the howls of the wind and the wails of her clanmates right now. Her mind is muddled, like the mud clinging to her paws.

Under the Central Tree lies the bloodied form of Lightflame. Even under the giant tree, the rain somehow finds its way under the shade, pooling around the white she-cat's corpse.

Flamepaw just can't understand it. Her mother had been so tough, like the trees of the forest and the walls of the maze. Why is she lying on the ground? She is just unconscious. Yes, that's it. That has to be it. No way Lightflame is dead, she is just tired after all that fighting. She has to be.

"Flamepaw."

"Don't talk to me," she snaps automatically. "My mother is sleeping."

"But – " Petalblaze is abruptly cut off by a low murmur of someone – Flamepaw thinks it's Risingsun – saying that she's in shock, she is to be left alone, and for now Ashfrost will be in charge until Flamepaw is done grieving. The cream tom is reluctant to leave his friend's side, but he obliges, moving out from under the shelter of rain.

"Lightflame." The grief-stricken mew of her father forces Flamepaw out of her trance. The ginger and white tabby is staring at his mate. "Lightflame," he repeats. Smallpatch turns his head slowly to his daughter. His stare is dull and unnerving, full of raw emotions. It's an emotional storm inside Smallpatch, Flamepaw can tell. "What do we do now?" he asks.

"I…" Flamepaw attempts to answer but can only shake her head. What can she do? She's not going to be able to crush the forces of the Outsiders just with the anger and urge for revenge. Moreover, Flamepaw just isn't ready. Not for this… responsibility that's been placed on her. She didn't ask for it. "I don't know," she mumbles.

"Don't be too worried," Ashfrost advises from behind her. The gray deputy, drenched in rainwater, comes to sit down beside the russet tabby apprentice. "I'll be taking over for time being. You should get some rest; you could catch a cold out here."

Flamepaw shook her head stubbornly. "I have to stay beside my mom," she growls. "I won't leave her just because you all did."

Ashfrost slumps her shoulders, uttering a sigh. "If that's what you want, fine." Flamepaw does hear her discreetly talking to Risingsun about how he should slip her some poppy seeds, however. Risingsun replies that he already gave her thyme for shock. Flamepaw curls her lip at the memory of the bitter herbs. As if they'd actually help. They wouldn't bring her mom back.

STORM INCOMING

Flamepaw rarely leaves the den, now. She was still grieving. She needs time. Or… perhaps that is her excuse.

It doesn't really take effort for her to hear cats murmuring about poor Lightfire's daughter, still unable to break out of her stupor when her mother stopped grieving for her mother after a day. It is unbearable that her clanmates even think of her that way.

"Ashfrost is way better than Flamepaw ever will be." That's probably Birdpaw.

"Shush! She's got ears too, you know!" Meadowpaw reprimands her denmate.

"So? She should be taking responsibility of the clan!"

"She's an apprentice, like you and me. And she's grieving," the gravely voice of Risingsun breaks into the conversation.

"But – " From this point, Flamepaw shuts out.

Flamepaw shudders, curling up amongst the moss. She hates this. She doesn't want to feel so darned helpless. And… she wants to stop being sad. She wants to stop dragging herself down.

"I'm a storm of emotions," Flamepaw whispers to herself, half-delirious. But those few words stay in her mind.

I am a storm.

"I am a storm," Flamepaw repeats. Then louder: "I am a storm!" She revels in the thought: she will become powerful enough to shake the roots of the clan – maybe even uproot it.

Outside, the three cats are peering in.

"Is she alright?" Meadowpaw whispers.

"Bet the shock went to her head," Birdpaw deduces.

Risingsun shakes his head and makes a mental note that he ought to slip Flamepaw some more poppy seeds.

STORM INCOMING

A moon before, Flamepaw was mopey and sullen, her pelt unkempt, her tail dragging on the ground. Now, her fur is glossy; her eye holds the spark of competition. She's been participating in more and more sparring sessions. Oh, and does she spar. No opponent of hers is still standing after several heartbeats. They're panting on the training field and Flamepaw's standing over them, her eyes flashing like lightning. Her clanmates grudgingly agree – she is a storm.

Ashfrost notices these changes. And she thinks, smiling, that it's a time for a change of leadership.

"Flamepaw!" she calls one day, when the ginger tabby is scarfing down a mouse. "I'd like to see you in my den stat."

Flamepaw blinks a couple of times before gobbling down the remains of her prey. She gives her chest a few licks to flatten it down before heading to the hollow opening in the Central Tree.

"What is it, Ashfrost?" she mews, a bit impertinent now. "Not about my many successes in challenges, is it?"

"More than that," the gray deputy purrs. "I'm getting old."

Flamepaw frowns, her nose wrinkling. "You're not that old," she scoffs. "Smallpatch is way older than you are."

"Not the proper way to talk about your father," Ashfrost chastises Flamepaw. "And I don't mean old as in join-the-elders old. I've still got enough strength to take on a few Outsides at once."

The gray deputy pauses. Flamepaw's eyes are still narrowed, asking the silent question of then why did you call me if that wasn't the point? "I'm considering abdicating the position of deputy," she says.

Flamepaw's eyes immediately go wide. "What? Why?" she splutters. Then, "Who's going to lead the clan, then? Surely not Risingsun."

"Simple." Ashfrost's expression is serene. "You."

Flamepaw's eyes go impossibly huge. "No!" she snaps. "I'm an apprentice, still being trained! I don't have any experience… yet."

"If anyone asks, your performance is satisfactory enough for me to say that it's time for you to become a warrior," Ashfrost remarks. "It's over satisfactory. And," she adds, "your will is what made me decide that it's time for you to be leader, Flamepaw. You were a storm of emotions barely a moon ago. Now you're still a storm, but a storm of willpower." Ashfrost dips her head. "With willpower as strong as yours, the clan will follow. You will be the strongest leader the clan has ever seen."

Flamepaw inhales, her breath shaky. "Are you sure?"

"Risingsun and I have discussed this," Ashfrost assures her. "If you need us, we'll help you."

Flamepaw hesitates, then nods. A new energy is rushing through her veins – crackling in her heart. With every heartbeat, it grows, pulsing until she can't take it. Flamepaw dashes out of the tree and swarms up its bark, standing tall and confident on the Leader's Perch.

"Cats of MazeClan!" a roar, a voice she never has heard herself use, bursts out of her mouth. The few scattered felines simultaneously swing their heads up to look at her. A few jaws drop in surprise.

"You're not supposed to be up there!" a voice calls up to her.

"I have every right to be up here!" Flamepaw retorts. "I am the new leader of MazeClan from this day forward. Under the guidance of Ashfrost and Risingsun, I will strive to be twice the leader Lightfire ever was –" - a few gasps come from the crowd – " – and bring the Outsiders to their knees, as they deserve!"

The speech is met with silence. Then a cat lets out a chuckle, before being abruptly silenced by their neighbor. The ginger tabby's smile falters. Flamepaw scans the camp; all eyes are on her, but either they're too shocked by her new proclamation or they think she's a big joke – no! Flamepaw digs her claws into the branch. They will obey her.

Ashfrost pads out from under the tree, glancing up at the new leader. "I swear my allegiance and loyalty to you, Flamepaw." Her words echo through the maze in the silence.

Flamepaw numbly nods at the deputy. No one else dares make a move. Then Risingsun comes forward.

"I as well will be loyal to you, Flamepaw," he declares. "Flamepaw! Flamepaw!"

The clan, as if it has been waiting for this moment, roars its assent. "Flamepaw! Flamepaw! Flamepaw!"

Flamepaw grins again, this time stretching across her face.

They will obey me. Not because I'm the rightful heir of Lightfire; not because I'm supported by two well-respected cats.

The ginger tabby closes her eyes.

Because I am the storm that will avenge what we have lost.