Nine Lives
8/18/20
Staring down at Blackfoot's body, Russetfur realizes just how truly vulnerable she really is. He's been clawed several times across the face, and there's a nasty wound across his side and through his jugular. Blood cakes his white fur. His chest doesn't move, and he's been thrown to the side.
She sets her feelings aside for now. They'd pledged themselves to their clan at their warrior ceremony, all those moons ago. He'd fulfilled the vow he had made when he had said, "I do." There will be time to grieve later—much later, but in the present, the battle rages still, and she knows it is not going to stop for one death.
The rest of the battle passes in a blur of adrenaline and nerves she's determined to hide: Firestar's death, Scourge's death, the chasing out of the rogues, the victory of the clans …
And then it hits her—that she is going to be expected to lead ShadowClan now, and not Blackfoot. Not even a day as deputy, and already leader. It makes her chest close up thinking about it—
—So she doesn't. Russetfur distracts herself by ordering her warriors to be treated; she tallies the deaths of her Clanmates and helps rebuild the camp from the shape Tigerstar left it in.
She puts off being leader for as long as she can, but it catches up to her. All too soon, Littlecloud approaches her and says, quietly, "Everyone has been given herbs and orders to listen to. With Blackfoot dead, you are our leader now." It's a harsh splash of cold water. "It's almost moonhigh, so you need to appoint a deputy, and then we should go to the Moonstone so you can receive your nine lives."
Russetfur sighs, too worn out to react to the fact that Littlecloud has just told her what to do. She tries to read his expression—tries to figure what he thinks of her—but he turns away before she can.
She musters up all the courage she can to stand in front of the—her clan. She's made a decision that she knows will be popular, and she announces it simply: "Oakfur will be the new deputy of ShadowClan."
There are not many protests: Oakfur is an experienced warrior, with an apprentice, and he is friendly as well. Her own relationship with him is neutral, but she respects his devotion to ShadowClan.
After the messes of Brokenstar and Tigerstar, she welcomes the stability Oakfur's deputyship will provide.
She pads off the rocks, then, and catches Littlecloud's gaze when she turns. He looks approvingly at Oakfur, and Russetfur feels a wave of relief. She wants Littlecloud on her side when she is leader.
Russetfur tells Oakfur she and Littlecloud will be leaving for Mothermouth, and he takes it in stride with a nod and a promise to keep the clan safe. She is given her herbs before the journey, and a twice-repeated reminder not to eat any prey until after the ceremony. The battle and rebuilding has exhausted her, but she tells herself she can survive a little bit longer.
The trek is the same length as it always is, but Russetfur feels as if it is twice as long. After stalling on the ceremony, her paws are restless to have it over with as soon as possible.
"What is StarClan like?" she asks, to fill the time, and Littlecloud pauses, a pensive look on his face. He begins to speak several times, but stops himself.
"StarClan is like nothing else you can think of, Russetfur. It's … " His face twists as he tries to find the right words. "It's like the territories here, but imagine the greenest green-leaf you'd seen. It's like that, and the prey always runs." He sighs. "It's something I never tire of seeing."
She doesn't ask any more questions after that, and Littlecloud doesn't initiate any conversation, so the rest of the walk is made in silence. Russetfur begins to think, and when she creeps back outside of the space in her mind, they've arrived.
The cave stands large and intimidating, and she takes a deep breath before entering. She's been here once before, as an apprentice on the customary journey, but age has tempered the memory of it.
"It's not going to be lit up for a few minutes more," Littlecloud informs, as he looks up at the sky. "We should only have to wait a little bit once we get inside, so we planned our timing well."
Her planned question of will it be lit up? answered, Russetfur snaps her jaws shut and she has to feel her way around the area. Littlecloud moves in front of her, and she relaxes a little once she's behind him.
There's a tunnel, and once they reach the end of it, Russetfur can just barely see the edges of the Moonstone. It's large and dark, and for a moment, she wonders how Littlecloud can make this trek every half-moon.
But then the stone begins to glow, and the cavern is lit up. The burst of light leaves Russetfur crouched with her claws out, and she has to let her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness before she can approach it.
Littlecloud is already standing right next to the Moonstone, seemingly unaffected. He glances over at her and says, "Once you touch your nose to the stone, StarClan should meet with you, and the ceremony will commence."
Her ancestors … She looks at him, and feels the sudden urge to ask, "Are you going to be present as well?"
He nods curtly, and she's a little more reassured when she turns back to the Moonstone. The ground is cold beneath her paws, and she shivers when her belly brushes it. Russetfur closes her eyes, takes another deep breath, and presses her nose against the stone.
She opens them again when she feels soft grass beneath her instead of frigid stone. Russetfur glances around—she's in a little meadow, but around her is a pine forest very similar to the one in ShadowClan. It calms her nerves, if anything, and she's grateful for the small familiarity.
"Welcome to StarClan, Russetfur."
She recognizes the cat who speaks, but at the same time, it's new and unusual. She tries not to unsheath her claws into the dirt. Behind her, Cedarstar sits with his tail wrapped around his paws. Stars shimmer gently in his pelt.
"Cedarstar," Russetfur says, and almost instinctively, she dips her head to him. The dark grey tom stands, and he dips his head to her, too. She blinks, confused, until he speaks again.
"We are equals, now," he reminds. "A ShadowClan leader of the past … and a ShadowClan leader of the future." A pensive look seems to cross his face, and she almost asks about it, but Cedarstar seems to shake it off. "You know," he muses, "when I first accepted you into the Clan, most of your Clanmates didn't think you and Boulder could do it—be true Clan cats."
Russetfur shifts her paws and tries not to feel too bitter when he dredges up the past. She doesn't think anybody has brought that up in front of her for many moons, and it's not something she's used to hearing.
"Do you know why I wanted you in my clan?" asks Cedarstar. She shakes her head, and he continues, "I saw a spark—the kind few cats are born with." He pauses. "I knew your spark had the potential to be fanned into a flame, and I knew you could earn your place." His gaze softens. "I'm pleased to see that you have, time and time again. ShadowClan is lucky to have you. So, my life is for following your instincts. Even when other cats disagree with your actions, sometimes it's a good idea to listen to your own intuition."
Russetfur doesn't know what to expect when he touches his nose to hers, so she braces herself. She feels indecision tugging at her belly, and then a feeling of calm settles over her like a layer of cloud has covered her pelt. It ebbs away, like ripples in a stream, and she lets herself relax.
A fluffy black-and-white kit stands in front of her next, and Russetfur can't help but notice how painfully small he is. He looks familiar, but she can't remember his name until he looks up at her, and then it slots into her head. Badgerfang, one of Brokenstar's kit-warriors.
"Hi, Russetfur," he chirps. "Remember me?"
She can't resist a small smile, and she nods. "I do, Badgerfang."
The striped tom waves his tail excitedly. "I asked the StarClan cats if I could give you a life today, and they said that I could." He pauses, looking pleased. "My life is for courage," Badgerfang declares. "That way, even if you're facing something that's way bigger than you are, and even if you're super scared, you can still march towards it with your head high."
Badgerfang strains on his toes to reach her nose, and when she realizes he can't, she crouches a bit. He beams at her. Russetfur's second life comes with a jolt—it has a spark that her first one hadn't. All of a sudden, she is tiny and surrounded by cats who loom over her. But she walks forward with a spring in her step, and leaps at the enemies around her, despite knowing she could be cut in half with every blow.
Russetfur shuts her eyes before she has to live through Badgerfang's bloody end, and when she opens them again, he's standing in line next to Cedarstar.
The third cat is a grey tabby tom, but unlike the others, Russetfur doesn't carry a shred of recognition for him.
He pads forward, but there's a lightness in his gait that's not unlike Badgerfang's.
"You might have heard of me," he says with a twitch of his left ear. "My name was often used to remind kits not to play with their food, because I did, and StarClan sent a hawk to take it. I'm Driftwhisker. I'm giving you respect. It's something that must be earned, rather than given, but if you show it to your clanmates, your food, StarClan—then you will be rewarded for it." He sends her a grin. "Especially in ShadowClan."
He bumps her nose with his own, and Russetfur is small again. There's a dusty mouse in front of her, and she pounces, throwing it through the dirt. Distantly, she hears, "I was just practicing being a warrior, Sunnytail." She glances up at the wide blue sky, and suddenly, there is a shriek of terror. Russetfur is being pulled away and she watches a hawk fly past her with the mouse in its talons.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thinks, the story of Driftkit and the Hawk. As if he's heard her thoughts, Driftwhisker gives a little nod before padding to stand beside the other cats.
Featherstorm is there next. The dark tabby queen inclines her head at Russetfur. "My apprentice … and now the future leader of ShadowClan—how time flies. Russetfur, I give you a life for loyalty." She chuckles. "That's never been something you've had a problem with, I know, but as leader, you must make decisions that always have the best future of the Clan in mind. Sometimes, those decisions will be difficult to make."
Russetfur lets her former mentor's words sink in, and she nods, whispering a silent thank you. She doesn't think it can carry all the way to Featherstorm, but the queen purrs and touches her nose.
Featherstorm's life seemingly comes out of nowhere. Russetfur feels full of energy and adrenaline, but it is all devoted to one single thought—ShadowClan. The wave of power sets her down gently and the queen steps away.
She comes face-to-face with an unfamiliar black tom for her fourth life.
"My name is Raven Pelt," he says. "We have a lot in common, Russetfur. We were both rogues who both took Clan names when we came into ShadowClan. I was Shadowstar's deputy, many moons ago, and I succeeded her, just as you are succeeding Cedarstar. In the ancient days, my Clanmates accepted me as their leader despite my foreign heritage. The ShadowClan of today will accept you as their leader, in turn." Raven Pelt pauses and locks gazes with her. "My life is for perseverance. As an apprentice, you never gave up on proving yourself despite everything that was against you. As a leader, you will continue to prove yourself against a whole new set of challenges."
He rests his nose on hers, and Russetfur inhales as a surge of energy flows through her. It's cool like chilled water, and it makes her feel like she's running, and can keep going forever—and that she can handle anything. Raven Pelt pulls away, and it's over.
Russetfur narrows her eyes when she sees the next cat come forward. Yellowfang, the former medicine cat of both ShadowClan and ThunderClan, who she's never been more than acquaintances with. She gives a curt nod that's returned swiftly.
Neither of them has ever been one for drawn-out pleasantries, so it doesn't surprise Russetfur when the flat-faced she-cat skips the introduction and goes straight into the life-gifting.
"I give you sacrifice," rasps the grey she-cat. "A willingness to lay down everything for your Clan and Clanmates, even your own life."
Russetfur nods. She withstands the feeling of flames licking down her face and eating away at her fur. The scent of burning flesh fills her nostrils and she wants to gag. It takes all her willpower not to flinch away from the agony, and Yellowfang meets her gaze evenly before retreating. Those were her last moments in the fire.
The seventh cat: a reddish-brown tabby tom draws himself up, studying her intently before he moves closer. Russetfur's gaze is instantly drawn to the long scar across his face—it extends from his mouth to his ear. She wonders how he got it for a moment before he begins speaking.
"I was once a medicine cat for ShadowClan," the tom says. "A long time ago. My name is Redscar, and I give you a life for humility. There will be times when you make a decision, or don't make a decision, and you will be wrong. Part of being a good leader is being able to admit when you are in the wrong. Your Clan will require it of you." Briefly, Redscar's gaze darkens, but it disappears quickly. "When Snowstar died, I convinced Brightwhisker to wait to appoint a deputy. She died that night, and I regret being too proud to tell anyone that my decision was wrong. Don't make the same mistake I did."
Russetfur nods; the names Redscar and Brightwhisker lighting an old memory in her mind of the leader and the deputy both dying of greencough. Suddenly she feels very grateful for Oakfur, and she stretches forward to receive Redscar's life.
This life hurts in a way the others never had. Russetfur carries herbs to the leader's den, and she looks inside to see a brown-and-white tabby lying limp. The scent of sickness is strong. Guilt pricks Russetfur's chest and bile rises in her throat, until Redscar moves away and she is left there on trembling legs. The vision fades. Redscar doesn't say anything more, but she doesn't think that he needs to.
The eighth cat stands further back than the others, hidden behind a cloud of mist. Russetfur scrutinizes the shape of the silhouette. She tries not to hold her breath, though—she doesn't want to be let down too hard if it isn't really him who's going to give her a life.
The shadow steps forwards, and the first thing she sees are the six-toed black paws, followed by an unscarred white pelt. Blackfoot looks at her carefully; his yellow eyes have not lost their sharpness after death.
"Russetfur." Somehow, his mew is more resonant here than it had been in ShadowClan. She finds it strange.
She steps forward to meet him halfway and fights the urge to dip her head to him. Russetfur doesn't speak a word, and a comfortable silence falls between them. She releases a breath. Blackfoot speaks first, of the two of them.
"I give you a life for trust," he says. "Without the trust of a Clan, what is a Clan, truly? As ShadowClan's leader, you will need to put your differences aside so that you can trust your Clanmates to be there for you, and you to be there for your Clanmates."
Russetfur looks at him. "I'm sorry you never got to be leader," she says.
Blackfoot says nothing; only touches his nose to hers. His life is exhilarating. It's like she's throwing herself off a pine tree with the knowledge that her Clanmates will catch her.
He steps back beside Redscar, and she waits for her final life. Russetfur tries to think of who it could be. She does not expect Raggedstar, her half-brother, to step forward.
The dark brown tabby tom watches her curiously.
"I didn't expect to see you," she murmurs, and keeps her tone neutral. As young cats, she had gotten along okay with him, she remembers. But Russetfur cannot forget that he had appointed his son as his deputy—the son that had very nearly destroyed her Clan.
"I'm here," he returns evenly. "My life is for justice. Use it to treat everyone fairly, despite your relationship with them."
Russetfur regards him. There is bitter regret in her chest; she recalls saying, "Brokentail will be the deputy of ShadowClan," and the burning sting of betrayal as she is left bleeding out by her own son.
"I didn't know that," she says carefully. She does not quite forgive him yet, but she understands his perspective, now, at least.
Raggedstar pauses before he says anything. "Not many cats did," he reminds, "and not many cats were meant to." The dark tabby turns, and he takes up his spot next to Blackfoot.
Cedarstar steps forward again, head raised. "I hail you by your new name, Russetstar," he announces. "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 resounding calls of Russetstar! Russetstar! Russetstar! ring in her ears. Around her, more cats seem to appear, and she suddenly seems very small against the tide of StarClan.
It's overwhelming, and though she is grateful, she feels powerless here: like a stray current amongst an ocean. She looks around, and finds Littlecloud; he is sitting behind her a little ways. The medicine cat stands and gives her a nod.
"Russetstar," he says, emphatically, with a dip of his head. "It's time to rebuild ShadowClan."