Flowerstem stumbles alongside the medicine cat as the pair trek through the pathway, flanked by gorse and heather. She gives a small squeak as she falls down on her side.
"Flowerstem?" The scarred face of Redscar blinks at her. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," the ginger and white she-cat assures him. Flowerstem gets to her paws. Her right flank stings a little and she now probably has some dry leaves stuck on her side, but that's fine. She gives her front paw a shake. "I just tripped over a root."
Redscar's eyes glint. "Well, we had better hurry - the moon will be up soon." He nods towards where the sun is slowly sinking into the edge of the horizon. "The moon doesn't wait for cats, nor does Starclan." He says this as he pads on, leaving Flowerstem to trot after him.
"Redscar," she pants as they reach Mothermouth - true to its name, it is like a giant maw of a cat. "Redscar, I do have a question."
The red tabby dips his head. "Make it quick."
"Why was I Starclan's choice?"
He seems caught off by the inquiry. He considers it for a couple heartbeats. "Well," Redscar mews at last, "I assume that it is because they deemed you worthy. And by all means, you are a good cat, Flowerstem. A good warrior. You took control of the situation after…" He winced. "After Jumpfoot and Mossfire's deaths."
Flowerstem feels a stab of sorrow. Mossfire… her tortoiseshell sister died too soon, far too soon after her other sister, Brightwhisker. Jumpfoot as well. He might have been foolhardy and more spitfire than most, but he had been a formidable tom and wise when he could be. ShadowClan lost a valuable warrior. If only they hadn't decided to fight for the position of leader…
"But why did Starclan stop them from fighting?" she asks. "And choose me right after their deaths! If I see them in Starclan, when I'm to receive my nine lives… they'll hate me for this."
Redscar shakes his head. "Flowerstem, do you want to lead this clan or not?"
"Of course I do!" She raises her chin. "The stem was Starclan's calling, but becoming leader is my choice. I want to lead Shadowclan into better days - but -" Flowerstem bows her head. "I wish there had been a better way. They could have talked-"
"But they didn't," Redscar reminds her. "They fought. That was their choice." The medicine cat flicks his tail and steps into the cavern. "Come now. We are wasting moonlight here."
It seems pointless to argue anymore. Flowerstem heaves a sigh and follows him.
The Moonstone is aglow by the time they reach the end of the cavern into more open ground, illuminating them and the rest of the circular space in an eerie blue glow. Redscar pads forward first, crouches down, and presses his nose to the cold stone. Flowerstem follows suit. Her first thought when she pushes her nose against the rock is that it is cold. Cold like what she imagines melted starlight would feel. The coolness seems to spread over her, envelop her like moss covering a log. Does she have to go to sleep? Flowerstem frowns with her eyes closed - then opens them up.
What is now before her makes Flowerstem stare in amazement. She is no longer in the cavern. The moonstone is no longer there. She now is in a starry expanse of cedar and pine trees, rising far above her head. Mist swirls around her paws, sprinkled with what looks like stardust. The ginger tabby can hear birds twittering somewhere up there. This is absolutely Starclan's Shadowclan. It can't be anywhere else.
"Rise, Flowerstem," a voice whispers from her side. She turns her head - and has to stare again. Before her stands a large gray tom. Flowerstem blinks, and the stars in his pelt glimmer.
"Snowstar," she breathes with wide eyes. The last she had seen of the former leader, he had been sickly, feverish, and coughing - barely himself. He hadn't recognized Brightwhisker when the deputy had visited him. Now - he is back in his youth and vigor. Flowerstem scrambles to her paws and bows her head.
"No need," the tom rumbles. "You are to be leader soon." He dips his head back. "Are you ready to receive your nine lives?"
Flowerstem looks behind her, and sees Redscar - the medicine cat gives her a small nod and an encouraging purr. Flowerstem turns her eyes back to the leader and, still somewhat speechless, nods her acceptance.
Snowstar scrutinizes her with his green eyes before coming one step forward to touch his nose to her forehead. The same sensation of cold seeping through her fur and into her body comes back.
"I give you a life of endurance," Snowstar announces. "Even when the times are tough and there seems to be enemies around every corner, use this gift to lead your clanmates on and onto a brighter path."
His words end, and suddenly Flowerstem feels the pain of claws, tearing at her from every side - dull and painful and loud, especially when she starts hearing not only the caterwauls of battle but also the cries of her clanmates. Then all goes silent, and the feeling of fangs and hooked claws digging into her skin feels more like fever beneath it. Her lungs ache, the fever is wracking, and she feels older than she ever was - and it's over. She's left heaving for breath. Snowstar nods again, once, and he pads back to join the multitude of cats that have - well, suddenly appeared. The same moment, someone comes trotting out of the crowd.
Flowerstem stares at the second cat. Brightwhisker, much like Snowstar, looks nothing like she did in her death. Her eyes are bright, she isn't coughing, and her pelt looks sleeker than it did in several days.
"Flowerstem!" Brightwhisker bounds forward to press her head under her sister's chin. "I'm so proud of you!"
Flowerstem gives a choked purr back. "Brightwhisker. Oh Starclan. You look..."
"I know," the former deputy mews. "But let's not dally on the past. You have a life to receive!" She presses her nose against Flowerstem's forehead. This time, the touch isn't cold like Snowstar's. It's warm, like the feeling of sunlight on her fur. "I give you a life of energy," Brightwhisker pronounces. "Energy for the lives you will give to serve your clan, and energy to help those around you when they are in need. And energy to help you stand on your paws - even if you feel like you're going to fall down."
There's an abrupt flash before Flowerstem's eyes before it bursts into a wall of white so bright she has to close her eyes. There is flame inside her, burning at her bones, her heart, and her fur - she feels like she's going to implode. Flowerstem gives choking gasp and bends over - but something keeps her standing, forcing her to stop falling down. The sensation goes as quickly as it came, and when she opens her eyes, Brightwhisker is still in front of her. The brown and white she-cat touches her nose to Flowerstem's ear once more in farewell, before she too returns to where many cats are waiting.
The next cat is a pleasant surprise. Brackentuft, her former mentor, comes padding towards her with his usual jaunty stride. He gives her no time to speak - like usual, Flowerstem thinks with a snort - as he presses her nose to her forehead.
"With this life, I give you humor," he says with a chuckle of his own. "When the times are dark, use this life to spread laughter and small joys through the clan."
This feels nothing like the two lives she has received prior. Flowerstem feels jostled by many beings, like she's at the Gathering. She hears purrs, laughter, giggles, snorts as cats joke about things, small or big. Involuntarily, she beings to purr herself.
"Put that life to use, eh?" Brackentuft asks when the sensation ends. "Shadowclan could use some laughter after all that."
Flowerstem nods. "I promise," she mews huskily.
Brackentuft nods in satisfaction and turns back, leaving Flowerstem - with three lives given and six to come - waiting. And she sits there. When the cat to follow doesn't come out immediately, Flowerstem begins to worry. Has Starclan... decided that she isn't the one that they need?
Then a figure steps out from the crowd and Flowerstem breathes a sigh of relief. She doesn't recognize the cat immediately. The name comes in a moment - Flowerstem saw this cat when she was a kit.
"Cloudflight?" she asks.
The former medicine cat's amber eyes glow. "Good, you remember me."
Flowerstem bows her head sheepishly. "My sisters and I snuck into your herb store when we were kits, didn't we?"
"Indeed." Cloudflight shakes her head in exasperation. "You were lucky I was too old to have the energy to catch you. But you have matured, I hope. Matured enough to lead a clan." The white she-cat touches her nose to Flowerstem's forehead. This time it feels like lukewarm water is being slowly poured down the ginger and white tabby's head. "With this life, I give you good judgement," Cloudflight murmurs. "Use it to see what is right in each situation you face, and take your clanmates on the right pathway."
The life, unlike the feeling generated by the touch of Cloudflight's nose, flows in quickly, like a river. Flowerstem feels swept up in the rapids of it, and she feels wind whistling through her ears and sees the faces of hundreds, thousands of cats sweeping past her eyes. And amidst all that, a slow glow of pride in her chest, like she feels satisfied with someone.
"Now excuse me," Cloudflight mews when Flowerstem regains her senses. "I must talk with my old apprentice." The Starclan cat strides away to where Redscar is sitting some lengths away from Flowerstem.
Flowerstem cranes her head to look, but after a few whispered words, Cloudflight takes Redscar away to the deeper part of the Starclan forest.
"No greetings for me?" A familiar mew rouses Flowerstem from her peering. She turns back in utter shock.
"Mother?" she asks in disbelief.
"Me," her mother confirms. Petalstorm's eyes are warm and, like Brightwhisker, she gives her daughter a nuzzle of greeting. "I am so proud of you," she meows. "You've come so far. And now -" she presses her nose to Flowerstem's head, "you'll go farther." She pauses for a moment before going on. "I give you a life for protection," the white and red tabby purrs. "Use is to protect both the young and old and those who are defenseless in your clan."
Sudden fury rushes through Flowerstem's veins, sharp and burning. She unsheathes her claws and growls, feeling like one flank is being torn to shreds. And yet the tabby feels like what is on the other side must be shielded from whatever is attacking her - and so she grits her teeth and forces her claws to grip the earth beneath her. The feeling ebbs soon enough, but the pain on her flank subsides slowly.
Petalstorm gives Flowerstem a reassuring lick on the cheek. "I don't know what you think, but you are ready for all of this," she says. "You are going to be a fine leader."
Flowerstem presses herself against her mother's side. "Thank you," she whispers into Petalstorm's fur, before backing away and letting the former queen return to the starry ranks.
Flowerstem definitely does not recognize the next cat. But he's not too old - his solid white fur is clearly seen and his figure is solid compared to some fuzzy-looking cats in the background.
"I am Blizzardstar," he introduces himself. "I doubt you know me - I was a leader before Snowstar was, and he served under me as deputy." He looks into the crowd, as if searching for someone, then turns back "A long time before you were born, kits were sent into battle," the old Shadowclan leader says. "They were trained, of course, but their determination could not match their size and age. Until - the queens of WindClan protested against these practices. We listened. And the code changed to how it is now - and no more kits are being slaughtered." He bows his head to touch his nose to her forehead. "I give you a life for listening," he rumbles. "Listen to your elders is something you hear every day, but that saying is correct. You must learn to listen to even the smallest of voices, for they can offer you things to learn from."
This time, all Flowerstem can feel is guilt. Suddenly, a tiny, bloodied body flashes by. Then it is followed by many more, at which point Flowerstem closes her eyes. All she can see is Mossfire and Jumpfoot, lying side-by-side, paws and necks bloodied. The guilt gets stronger. But now, she can't tell if it's hers or Blizzardstar's. There's a trickle of a she-cat's voice calling out: "There's going to be another battle with ShadowClan. I can't let Specklepaw fight, I just can't!"
Flowerstem opens her eyes, and Blizzardstar is gone. The ginger and white tabby catches the eye of a ginger and brown tortoiseshell, who gives the smallest nod. But Flowerstem can't return the nod. She's received six lives - and yet she feels so very, very hollow. The guilt is exhausting.
The seventh cat comes forward. Although she is fading - the background of Starclan can be hazily seen behind her - she hold herself with pride. Also, she looks so very bizarre, with tortoiseshell patches that are all over the place, that Flowerstem has to frown. The she-cat returns the frown with one of her own.
"I am Brindlestar," she declares. "I was leader before you were born, and far before Blizzardstar was born." She fixes Flowerstem with a green glare. "I was young and foolhardy once," she finally says. "Back then, I did not know how to give and take - I only knew how to take for my clan. And I nearly started a battle at a Gathering. Starclan intervened, thankfully, and showed us that the clans could all fit in our own portions of their territory."
Flowerstem nods wordlessly - she remembers this nursery tale, where the log came crashing down on fighting cats - and yet they all escaped unscathed.
Brindlestar presses her nose to Flowerstem's. "With this life, I give you the ability to compromise," she says. "Use this life to bring your clan into a better future without bloodshed." Her green eyes spark. "Do not make the mistakes some of your predecessors and clanmates have made."
Brindlestar's life is straightforward. Flowerstem feels her heart racing with all sorts of jumbled emotions, anger, frustration, fear, relief - all at once. Her veins race with exhilaration when it ends. Brindlestar gives her a scorching look before she flicks her tail and returns to her place next to… oh. Oh Starclan.
Flowerstem wants to say no, not this. Anything but this. But she can't make her mouth work as Jumpfoot pads towards her. He gives her a thoughtful look.
"I give you a life for ambition," he announces. "Some cats claim ambition is bad. Some say it is good. But the truth is ambition is neither of those things. It is simply the source of what can be great or what can be destructive." He touches his nose to her head. "Do not waste your ambition on useless things. Focus on what is important."
Flowerstem shakes as his life flows through her - pride, anger and fury as hot as fire nearly knocks her off her feet. Then she sees it - Mossfire faces her - no, she faces Jumpfoot. She leaps at him. Flowerstem hears her own call of No! as a black paw flashes out from beneath her vision the same time Mossfire's face dives down. Her throat feels compressed. There's a dark flash of fear - a crunch - and bright red illuminates the world.
Flowerstem looks up when the vision fades, still shaking. Jumpfoot is still there.
"I," Flowerstem whispers. "I am so-"
"Do not say sorry," Jumpfoot interrupts. "What happened, happened. I chose to fight her. She chose to fight me. Our own actions led to our demise. What are you blaming yourself for?" He pauses, and adds: "If you do go to battle with WindClan, scratch that no-good Houndleap's ear out for me."
Flowerstem nods, her head wobbly. "Do you… um." She hesitates. "Are you mad at me?"
The black tom frowns. "What for?"
"You and Mossfire - you both wanted the leader's position. But I got it instead."
Jumpfoot snorts. "I do regret that I acted more than I thought in life," he replies. "But when you get to Starclan, you have a lot of time to think. And - really, I'm envious of you, I'm not going to lie. But I'm not mad at you." His gaze sparks with fiery humor. "You're going to be a good leader, don't be sorry for that."
Flowerstem bows her head. "If Starclan had sent that omen faster - you two would've lived."
Jumpfoot's eyes darken. "Omens. Right. Ha." He looks to the side. "Focus on what's important now," he meows finally. "What you want doesn't change what happened."
Flowerstem studies the tom, unsure of what to say. He is certainly wiser in death than he was alive. She wonders if he and Mossfire talked during the short time Shadowclan went leaderless. "Thank you," she says at last, honestly behind her words.
Jumpfoot flicks an ear to indicate that he heard. "Lead Shadowclan well," he answers.
"Move over, you hog," a bossy meow commands. "I need to give her the last life."
Jumpfoot, surprisingly, moves aside. And just like that, Flowerstem can't speak again. Mossfire stands before her, her pelt gleaming with a hundred stars. Flowerstem can't say a word. Even though her sister looks fine - no scars or wounds - all Flowerstem can see right now is Mossfire's empty stare after Jumpfoot had struck the killing blow.
"No hello?" the tortoiseshell asks with a grin.
Flowerstem feels like mewling like a kit.
"No hello, then," her sister mews ruefully. Mossfire takes a deep breath and pushes her nose to Flowerstem's head. "I give you a life for courage," she says. "You must speak up for your clan to represent it - and you must have courage to do the right things for your clan." In a low tone, Mossfire adds: "I know you will. You always do."
Flowerstem closes her eyes as the life fills her up like a hollow flooding with rain. Mossfire's life is only a warm glow in her heart - until it starts blazing, spreading, until the heat combined with the fire she feels in her bones is as if she has the strength of LionClan and TigerClan combined.
"I hail you with your new name, Flowerstar," Brightwhisker's call is somewhere far away. "Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of Shadowclan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity."
The cheers of the Starclan crowd are faded in her ringing ears. And then it goes silent.
Flowerstar looks up, and the forest is now empty, save for Mossfire. And when she turns around, Redscar.
"I'll leave you to talk," Redscar mutters. He gives Mossfire a bow. She returns it with a sour look. Redscar shakes his head, as if in resignation, before fading.
Now there they are. Flowerstar can picture it. Two cats, one brimming with newly given lives, one who has lost one.
"You're angry at me," Mossfire speculates.
Flowerstar snaps her head up to look at Mossfire. "I am absolutely not," the ginger tabby leader insists.
"Then why wouldn't you talk to me?" Mossfire curls her tail around her paws, eyes sad. "The entire time I was giving you your life, you were quiet. I thought you'd say something like, 'Hi Mossfire. I'm going to be the best leader for both of us.'"
Flowerstar lashes her tail. "How can I? I'm… Starclan, Mossfire -" Flowerstar breaks off into a sob. "I can't say that. I'm so sorry. I should've stopped you. I really should've."
"Hey." Mossfire presses her muzzle to Flowerstar's shoulder. "It's alright."
She can't believe what she's hearing. "You're dead," Flowerstar sobs, shaking. How can it be alright? "It's - it's not okay."
"I'm dead," Mossfire agrees in a sad voice. "It's not your fault." The tortoiseshell considers for a moment. "Jumpfoot and I don't see eye-to-eye all the time," she says, "but this time he's right. We chose to attack each other with claws unsheathed. We died because of what we chose to do."
Flowerstar shakes her head, her shoulders heaving with each breath. "Starclan, no. No."
"I'm afraid so." Mossfire's voice cracks. "I'm sorry."
All Flowerstar can manage is: "I miss you" and "Don't go."
"I'll always be with you." Mossfire buries her muzzle into Flowerstar's shoulder fur. "I'm going to be staying right here until it's time for you to go too, okay? Don't worry."
Flowerstar's about to say more - when the visage of Shadowclan fades, along with Mossfire, into darkness. She opens her eyes. Redscar, beside her, looks to her with concern.
"Flowerstar?" he asks.
Flowerstar shakes her head. The guilt may never leave her. As far as Flowerstar can see, she will continue to wonder if she could have done anything different. She is sure the guilt will follow her around like a starved dog until she goes to Starclan. But for now…she had to stay strong. The clan had lost four cats in less than two days. They would need help to get back to normal.
"Let us return to Shadowclan," she meows quietly. "I have a clan to attend to."