'Dear agony
I feel nothing anymore.'

'Dear Agony' - Breaking Benjamin

Chapter Twenty-One: Hypogeum

Padshiy strode confidently through the shadowy forest, patrolling the outer edges of the pocket of trees he'd come to rest in. Stalking him silently from the tree tops was Willowclaw, though he was struggling to not plummet to the ground. Climbing trees had never been his strongest skill. But in order to stand any chance against the beast prowling beneath them they needed to learn as much about him as possible.

Eaglestrike flicked his tail, the signal to continue moving. As usual he'd taken the place of leader and guided the small group Fuhren had offered through the tree tops. The other Chosen, Rainpatch and Littleflame, were following the tiger via the long grass outside the forest.

The tribe cats that had accompanied them were even worse at Willowclaw when it came to balancing on branches. They were quick learners, however, refusing to give up. A muscular golden tabby tom occupied the same tree as Willowclaw, owl-like amber eyes watching Padshiy unblinkingly. In a whispered conversation earlier he'd spoke his name – Peligro.

Eyeing the tribe cat's bulging muscles Willowclaw decided he preferred the tribe friendly towards him, even if that meant taking on a suicide mission.

A short jump carried him over to the next tree, the branch sagging a little under his weight. The tiger paused to sniff at the ground a low growl rumbling from its throat. Black-tipped ears rotated and flicked, picking up the sounds that echoed through the trees.

He'd never seen a tiger before though he'd heard they were the ancestors of all cats. Studying the big cat's movements and habits – specifically its hunting ones – had confirmed the myth. But that made the tiger's existence all the more stranger. There hadn't been a big cat seen for seasons, apparently they'd all died out a long time ago. So where did Crimson find one and why was it hanging around the tribe?

Had Crimson though the tribe to be a danger to her rule and decided to control them by letting a tiger loose in their territory? Willowclaw shook his head. That couldn't be right. The tribe were relatively peaceful. All Crimson had to do was offer them protection and they'd follow her every word.

Padshiy looked up into the canopy and Willowclaw suppressed his gasp. The tiger's eyes were glassy and dead-looking. Was he blind? No, he couldn't be. He moved with too much ease to be blind.

"Did you see that?" he whispered to Peligro once Padshiy had begun moving again.

The tribe cat gave a single nod but didn't say a word. Willowclaw curled his lip in frustration. He hoped not all the tribe cats were as stuck up as that one.

He smirked. Blute certainly wasn't. The tribe's heiress was certainly chatty once given the go ahead to speak. During their 'hunt' two days previous he'd learnt a fair bit about the tribe. When her father died she'd take over as leader because of her royal blood. Bloodlines seemed particularly important to the tribe but thinking back to the Clans and their hatred of half-bloods Willowclaw admitted that it was normal for certain bloodlines to be thought of as royalty.

Fuhren and Blute's bloodline traced back to their tribe's ancestors, two cats who had travelled across vast lands to find a place to settle. Once the tribe grew large enough to sustain itself and had been taught the culture Engel and Sangre had brought with them the two had vanished, never to be seen again.

"Maybe they didn't like what they'd created," Willowclaw had mused.

"Or," Blute had smiled, "they realised that they were no longer needed and left to start another tribe in some other place."

He crossed to another tree whilst mulling over the possibilities of the Clans having been created by the same two cats as the tribe. But then the Clans culture was much different to that of Blute's tribe and he decided that the Clans had different ancestors.

"He's scented something," Peligro murmured.

Willowclaw glanced down at the tiger to find him staring out of the forest, nose twitching and eyes half-closed. "The tribe was told to stay in camp right?"

"Yes."

"Maybe it's a group of Crimson's soldiers," Willowclaw replied.

The branch beside just above him shifted with the weight of a cat. "We haven't seen any soldiers since we entered tribe territory," Eaglestrike hissed. "Fuhren told me they hardly ever enter his borders."

"Who knows what Crimson's ordering her soldiers to do? If she wants to find us you know she'll stop at nothing. Borders don't faze her."

"Some of Fuhren's elites dragged a living soldier back to camp about four days before we turned up to get information out of her. After a little convincing she gave in, told him everything," the PhoenixClanner looked down at Willowclaw.

He arched a brow, "what sort of 'convincing'?"

Eaglestrike grimaced. "He wouldn't say. The she-cat told him that Crimson was frantically gathering more soldiers for her army. Apparently she's forced Clan cats to join her army by threatening their families, even killing a few to make sure her message got through."

"Why is she building such a big army? She's already got the Clans under control. Is there another big group of cats she's got her eye on?" Willowclaw queried. Silently he wondered what Clan families had been tormented. Is Plummet safe?

"Someplace called the 'city'. That place has three big groups apparently."

A loud battle cry rung out followed by Rainpatch's voice shouting for help. Eaglestrike shot down the tree at the same time Padshiy launched himself out of the forest. "Come on!" Willowclaw shouted at the still tribe cats. "Don't just stand there!"

Not waiting to see if they followed he bounded down a few branches and jumped to the forest floor, grunting as his paws came into contact with the leaf mould. Already he could hear the sounds of battle floating through the air. Emerging from the shadows he threw himself into the battle raging; soldiers against the Chosen against Padshiy. No tribe cats had arrived.

The group of soldiers was an even split of living and dead, three of each. Fear of Padshiy reflected clearly in the eyes of the living. Biting down on a white tom and tossing him into the path of Padshiy he watched the tiger snap the soldier's spine between his teeth. A shudder ran down Willowclaw's spine. Just how were they supposed to defeat such a monster?

Sliding under the belly of a soldier he found himself nose-to-nose with a panting Littleflame. "You alright?" he asked.

The small she-cat shot him a dark look. "Don't treat me like a kit," she snapped, whirling around to slash her claws across Padshiy's face before pouncing on a soldier pinning Rainpatch down.

"I was just asking!" he snapped back.

Claws sunk into his flank but were ripped out a moment later. Hot breath rolled over him and his skin crawled. He knew exactly who stood behind him. Releasing a battle cry of his own he turned to meet Padshiy's dead gaze, flinching at how lifeless it was. His claws ripped through orange fur, blood oozing from the scratch marks.

A huge paw knocked him flat and chased the air from his lungs. "Oh no," he snarled as he staggered back to his paws, "you're not killing me as well. I haven't finished with you yet."

"There isn't anyone alive that can kill me."

Willowclaw's eyes widened at the deep voice that spilt from Padshiy's open jaw. "Y-You...can talk!?"

"Of course I can." The fighting had come to an abrupt stop around them, the mindless soldiers having already been killed and the living too busy starting open-mouthed at the talking monster. "I am not a mindless monster like so many of her other soldiers. We're all here willingly."

"What do you mean by 'we'?" Willowclaw took a step back.

Padshiy nodded in the direction of Crimson's mountain, grinning cruelly. "Those tribe cats have already met Kateria, and there are two others." He lurched forwards, jaws snapping shut on the air where Willowclaw had been standing heartbeats before. A large tongue swept around his muzzle as a chuckle rumbled through him. "On edge, tiny cat?"

"You are a bit big," Willowclaw smirked. He shot a look over at the others, finding them to be slowly edging further and further away. The living soldiers seemed to have attached themselves to the Chosen, too afraid to fight their enemies when staring down a tiger.

"I know what you're doing." His blood ran cold. "Takes bravery to stall an enemy all by yourself. How noble. Friends of yours?"

Willowclaw allowed himself to look away from Padshiy, over his shoulder at his friends. His heart ached not to see Icepetal among them. She should've been there fighting beside him. He knew how much she loved a good battle.

"Yes, and I'm not about to let my friends die because of a foolish decision I made."

"Willowclaw! Run!"

At the sound of Littleflame's voice he turned and ran. He waited to feel the heavy footfalls of Padshiy thudding against the ground behind him. But all he heard was a tremendous roar ripping across the grasslands.

He came to a skidding stop in front of the others, flanks heaving as he panted. "Is he gone?"

"Disappeared into the forest the same time you scurried over here," Rainpatch grinned. "Would you like a breather?"

"Only old cats need breathers," Willowclaw laughed.

Littleflame stepped away from Eaglestrike's side, nudging Willowclaw's shoulder gently with her nose. He winced at the sudden pain in it. "You're bleeding. One of the soldiers must've scratched you," she observed and shyly glanced up at him. "Tau will have to look at it."

"I'll go see her when we get back," he agreed.

"Uh, I guess I should thank you for not killing us?" one of the living soldiers spoke up.

All eyes turned to stare at the two soldiers, a calico she-cat and a smoky gray tom. "Who said we weren't going to kill you?" Willowclaw snarled, advancing on the soldiers with teeth bared.

The tom stepped in front of the she-cat snarling back, "we don't want any trouble."

"You are Crimson's soldiers. Trouble follows you lot everywhere," Rainpatch sniffed. "Might turn on us the moment we turn our backs."

"We aren't like that," the she-cat persisted.

Eaglestrike snorted. "All of Crimson's soldiers are like that; none of you are any different. How could you fight for her? Do you even know what she's done?"

"She ordered the culling of my gang even though I'd joined her army to save them," the tom growled.

The she-cat nudged her male counterpart. "Please, Felix," she whispered, "let's just go."

Felix stubbornly shook his head. "We can't survive on our own out here, Sadie. We need their help or we'll be killed." He curled his lip, "what makes you think you lot have suffered worse than we have?"

Willowclaw threw back his head, letting out a harsh bark of laughter. Amber eyes glinting he stared down at Felix, "we're from the Clans. That murdering psychopath you call a leader destroyed our afterlife, murdered our leaders and families, set our homes ablaze, and now demands Clan cats join her army or she'll do it all again. There are no other cats in this world that have suffered what we have."

"Not all of her soldiers actually want to help her," Sadie murmured darkly. "You'd be surprised by how many of them hate her. They want her dead. They want the white moon back."

Felix was still staring down Willowclaw though he looked more confused than aggressive. "If you lot are from the Clans then why are you all the way in tribe territory? Your homes are at least a moon away," recognition lit up his yellow eyes, "don't tell me you four are those Chosen cats Crimson's been searching for?"

"If we say yes would you still like our help?" Littleflame inquired quietly.

"Even more so!" Felix exclaimed. "She wouldn't dare challenge you lot to open battle after the last time. You mightn't believe it but wherever you are is the safest place right now."

Rainpatch shook his head in disbelief. "I think you hit your head during that fight. We are the most unsafe cats around. Everyone either wants us dead or wants to hand us over to Crimson. I'd hate to count how many cats have died because they've been around us for longer than a heartbeat."

"Rainpatch is right. We can help you if you really want us to but if you're seen with us then your lives will be in danger," Eaglestrike warned. He glanced at Willowclaw, "would you mind if we helped them?"

"I don't care. Do what you want. I'm going back to the tribe."

"Hey! Wait! We need your opinion on this as well, Willowclaw. Teams don't make decisions without consulting each other first," Eaglestrike ordered.

Willowclaw saw red. Was that uptight PhoenixClanner really having a dig at him right now because of the promise he made to Fuhren that they'd take down his pests? Was he really still upset about that? If he hadn't have agreed, then Icepetal would be dead. Did Eaglestrike really not care about that at all?

A growl thundered in his throat as he rose to his full height, fur bristling along his spine. "I did what had to be done," he reminded. "Or would you have rather I let her die to save our own tails?"

"It should've been discussed between all of us! A promise as big as the one you made to Fuhren isn't something one member of a team can make without telling the rest! We could die," Eaglestrike shouted.

"So could she. I was not prepared to throw her life away. I was not prepared to just sit there and watch her die knowing that I'm the reason why she'll never move again. I...I..." he trailed off, his gaze softening for a heartbeat before it hardened, "I can't do nothing. She deserves more."

Eaglestrike flinched. "I understand how you feel."

"No you don't!" Willowclaw roared. "You were fully prepared to kill her. How can you understand how I feel when you put your own life above others!? Who was it that said work as a team? It was you wasn't it?" he thrust his muzzle into Eaglestrike's face. "I didn't realise team members left each other to die."

He stormed away from both the tribe's camp and his fellow Chosen, towards grasslands that he had yet to explore, pausing only to throw his final words over his shoulder. "Do whatever you want, Eaglestrike, just like you always do. But know this; I will not be leaving until Icepetal is safe."

-000-

The peace of unexplored grasslands empty of any other life save for a herd of small deer did little to soothe his raging mood. A vision of a dying Icepetal writhing on the ground whilst Eaglestrike and the others watched played over and over the backs of his eyelids, tormenting him with what could've happened; what could happen if Eaglestrike took the others and left.

He stopped in a dip between two grassy hills, resting in the cool shade cast by the rising land but still it did nothing to lessen his anger. Did Icepetal not mean as much to the others as she did to him? Obviously not, a little voice inside his head scoffed; do you even know how much she means to you?

"Why!?" he shouted to no one. "Why was I chosen for this ridiculous task? Your damned guardians, Tornheart, must've been wrong to choose such a dysfunctional group! Is this all just some stupid joke? Some last minute botched plan to take back a crumbling world?! Well it's not funny anymore! Cats are dying! Families are being torn apart! Stop messing around and actually help!"

He didn't know who he was shouting to anymore. It wasn't fair to blame Tornheart for all this, she was only doing what she was told and she paid the price for it. Just another death he was partly responsible for. "It's not funny. It never was."

Slashing at the grass he yearned for home. "Crimson's probably killed Plummet already, and Singe as well. Probably Singe's mate and kits too. Heck, she's probably slit the throats of every cat in RogueClan," he laughed bitterly. "They'll never forgive me for abandoning them. Guess abandoning each other runs in the family."

"Let's give this kit a warriors name and then dump him in the swamp. Maybe he'll drown and no one will know about our little mistake. Let's tell him how much we love him and then leave him all by himself," he imitated his unknown parents. "It's better off this way I guess. If they hadn't have given me away then they'd be dead by now any way."

His eyes were drawn to Crimson's mountain, and hatred pooled in his belly. "One day your kingdom will crumble, your head will roll, and your name will used to make naughty kits behave. All tyrants are temporary pests."

A familiar scent wrenched him from his dark thoughts. He didn't find the idea of Blute being all the way out here strange, it was her territory after all, but after heartbeats passed and he still couldn't scent any other tribe cats he began to wonder what she was doing out here by herself. Wasn't there a leopard roaming around as well?

Hunkered down in the shadows and hidden by the long grass he watched as Blute's sleek form appeared on top of the hill in front of him, glanced around, and then loped back out of sight. His brow arched. What was the tribe's heiress up to?

His previous anger and angst forgotten Willowclaw rose to his paws and set about creeping after her, keeping himself low enough to be hidden by the grass.

By the time the heiress came to a halt in front of crumbling rock structure he was beyond lost. Every inch of tribe territory looked the same to him. Even the trees looked the same. Strangely enough he could smell the tribe's scent markers from where he hid a little way off. Had he really followed Blute that far?

Glancing back at the stone structure he was surprised to find Blute was no longer there. He had a hunch as to where she'd gone and upon careful inspection of the structure he found a hole and a path leading down into a dark tunnel. "What?"

Curiosity outweighed danger as he plunged headfirst into the tunnel, inhaling the cold air that blew up from within. His sight soon failed him. It was pitch black, the tunnel snaking its way further down without any sign of growing lighter anytime soon.

When it felt as if he'd reached the centre of the world and could go no further he spied a faint light glowing further ahead. Straining his ears he could hear the faint undertones of a murmured conversation though he didn't have a clue who was speaking.

He peeked round the lip of the tunnel, eyes widening when he saw the huge underground lake, the thin path that stretched out to the middle, the sharp rocks dangling from the roof, and the strange flecks of stars that lit up the cavern with a strange bluish light.

"...I still regret...shouldn't have...you'd still be here..."

Ears twitching, he once again picked up the soft conversation now recognising Blute's usually cheery tone. He found her sitting at the very edge of the thin path, tail trailing gently through the water. Her head was hung low, chin tucked against her chest.

Quietly he emerged from the tunnel, holding his breath as if letting it out would shatter the fragile bubble this underground marvel was hiding in. He sheathed his claws and padded softly over to the beginning of the outcrop, leaning towards one side to glance down into the clear water, finding that the underground lake was so deep that he couldn't see the bottom – it just faded into darkness.

If only Icepetal could see this. His heart hurt.

"Enjoying the peace, Willowclaw?"

"It's lovely down here," he replied, not caring that he'd been caught. "Do you come down here a lot?"

She hadn't moved from where she was sitting; only looked at him over her shoulder. "I come down here whenever I can to pay my respects to the dead, and to pray."

"What do you mean pay your respects to the dead?" he asked as he joined her at the end of the outcrop.

"Our culture is not to bury the dead in the ground. Instead we carry them down here, say our goodbyes, and watch as they sink into the darkness," Blute explained quietly. "It's our belief that the pure waters of this underground lake will wash away the sins of the dead and carry them to the next life cleaned of all past mistakes." She smiled softly, "it is a culture we rarely practice anymore."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"

"There are so many dead and so few left to say goodbye. Our spirits are broken, Willowclaw, we see no end to Crimson's rule and it is beginning to affect our way of life. We no longer find joy in an evening storm, can't see the beauty in a bright sunrise."

Willowclaw could understand what the tribe was going through. "Who are you praying to?"

"His name was Batis, and I wasn't praying, only speaking to him. He can't hear what I say but it makes the pain easier to deal with. He died too young, caught up in avenging my mother thinking it would make me happy," her face fell. "Father was pleased to see his lifeless body dragged back."

"How could any leader be pleased to see a member of their tribe dead?"

Blute sighed. "Father didn't approve of a mere prey-catcher catching the eye of his daughter. He certainly didn't approve of his daughter falling in love with him," she scoffed. "He couldn't stand the idea of future heirs having the blood of lowly prey-catchers running through their veins. Mother always talked him out of forbidding me from loving Batis, she'd somehow convince father that my happiness was more important that bloodlines."

"And then she died. Batis saw fit to avenge her for my sake and father willingly let him take a small group out to battle Padshiy. Father knew Batis would die, and he just let him go without saying a word."

She shook her head, "I'll never forget the smile that graced his cold face when he saw Batis's bloody body being hauled back into camp."

"But that was a long time ago. No point moping about the past," the smile she offered was weak and didn't make it to her eyes. "Would you like to tell me why you were wandering the grasslands all by yourself?"

Claws skittering across stone stopped him from answering and both cats turned to stare at a dishevelled Tau, her blue-gray fur splashed with blood. "Y-You both need to return..to camp now," she stumbled over her words.

"Whatever for? What's happened, Tau?" Blute demanded.

Fear rounded Tau's dark blue eyes. "It's Padshiy. He's attacking camp."