'You will die, but now your life is free,
Take pride in what is sure to die.'
'Truce' Twenty One Pilots
¢нαρтєя тωєηту-ƒινє: ιηησ¢єη¢є ƒσяgσттєη
The edges of his dream were fuzzy and strained; each passing moment they grew stronger as they solidified around him, keeping him imprisoned within the bleak world his mind had forged from the memories he cherished, and the memories he loathed. It didn't feel like a dream, it was far too real at times – pain seemed to reach beyond the borderlines of his dreamlike state.
He hadn't had a dream like this since he'd left the valley.
Before his paws stretched an endless expanse of green, melting into a setting sun that had come to a shuddering halt midway through setting; it sat peeking over the horizon bleeding rays of a deep orange-red. The grass was short but soft under-paw. A pleasant breeze that was a soothing mix of hot and cool stirred his fur – it carried the scent of death.
A den of brambles shimmered into existence, mewling soaking through the thick walls to reach his flicked back ears. Three shadows emerged from behind. All three he recognised, though he didn't want to look at any of them.
Lucius could have been his mirror image right up to the same dark amber eyes; his father's glinted with darkness, he hoped his own didn't do that. The tom with slightly wider shoulders prowled around the den as if stalking prey, tail stilled and paws sliding silently across the ground, and slipped into the warmth of the bramble den. Squeaks of delight heralded his arrival.
Theda looked far too soft to be even considered a commander. Nothing about her spoke of the battles she'd fought in, or the lives she'd taken. She moved with a delicate grace seeming to almost glide across the grass. The creamy white she-cat didn't look like his mother; he didn't take after her in any way. But Pandora had. She joined her mate in the depths of the bramble den's belly.
The third shadow admired him through narrowed eyes set deep into a flat face. An ugly shade of yellow they struck more fear into his heart than he'd ever admit to feeling. He swallowed uncomfortably, the ugly tom prowling nearer in a stiff, almost painful, way. Through his thin and ragged gray pelt showed the pink scars lacing his weathered body. "Joining us?" he inquired, eyes flicking to the den. A crazed smile revealed cracked, broken, yellow teeth. "I won't leave you out this time."
He couldn't move: his paws refused the command he screamed silently. Maybe this time he could save them. Raw panic flooded his veins at the terrifying promise the scrawny gray tom uttered whilst clawing his way into the den. In front of his eyes played the moment his life had changed for the worse. "Let me go!" he howled, straining every muscle in the fierce struggle to move. "Please, you can't do this!"
An agonised screech clawed at his ears. It ripped what was left of his heart to tatters having to hear it again after so long. His body was beginning to burn from the constant pressure on his muscles that wasn't resulting in any movement of his paws whatsoever. The den appeared to have grown closer; it's dark, open mouth sitting just a few whiskers away from the tip of his nose.
Blood was spat from the den slapping against his face in small drops of the sticky, red secretion that slowly drew red lines across his fur as it tracked its way towards the ground. He'd stopped trying to struggle against his invisible bonds. Now he just stood staring blankly into the dimness not really seeing anything at all.
"How could you just stand there and do nothing!?" Theda rocketed from the den, slamming into him with enough force to send them both sprawling. Her lips were pulled back in a fierce snarl, ears flattened against her skull. "This is why we left you! You're a monster!"
He found that he couldn't find the words he wanted to spit back at her. They refused to come to the tip of his tongue, just floated in the back of his mind like useless lumps of nothing. Isn't that what you wanted!? Isn't that what you raised me to be!? All he could do was look up at the face of his mother that was painted with so much hatred, so much disgust.
"Leave him, Theda. I know a place more than willing to take in a monster where we can get rid of him." Lucius emerged from the den all regal and tall despite the blood soaking his chest and dripping from his chin.
In an instant he was back to being twelve moons old watching his mother and father, the two cats he had looked up to all his life, look back at him from the shadows of strange trees with the sounds of their hatred ringing in his ears in the form of harsh words illustrating just what they would do to him should he ever mention their names again – abandoning him without a care in the world simply because he'd become the thing he thought they'd wanted.
Around him the dream's landscape absorbed the den, dragging his parents into the oblivion tucked away in the recesses of his mind. He was alone once again with dark thoughts assaulting his mind in constant waves of dull pain. You weren't good enough for them. You didn't become what they wanted; didn't become what she wanted. Always you: your fault, your fault, your fault. Monster!
"We can't take the risk."
"Don't say such things. Life is a risk, Shiver, are we expected to abandon that too?"
"Look what he's done to her, Ruin. How can you look at that and then look at him as if he's...normal!? We knew it would be dangerous bringing a stranger into the Clan without knowing anything about him. I've made my decision, Ruin."
He doesn't have to look up to know who's arguing. Around him a swampy forest has sprung up, the familiar smell of mud making his heart ache for home. Orange-red rays of the stilled setting sun still filter in through the canopy tinging the forest around him a warm colour.
"Don't make your decision based upon a single act."
"How can I not? He is a monster! The Clan comes first, Ruin; I must put it before the wellbeing of a young cat that is more than capable of looking after himself."
"I'll look after him, away from the Clan, until he's ready to join us. You can trust me to know when he is ready. He can be my last apprentice."
He can see the sad smile without looking at Ruin's face, knows it's there because he had been the receiver of the old cat's sad smile. It had aged the old tom beyond his real number of moons, that sad little smile; because it had been the only honest emotion he had ever let anyone see.
"Ruin, I don't know what you see in that thing...but if you believe that he can be of any worth to the Clan then I will let you have your fun. But, if he becomes a danger to the Clan I will kill him myself."
The endless expanse of green is back except this time the sun has finally set, the sky darker than the memories clogging up his dreams. No stars broke up the blackness it was pure and thick, stretching on forever, an endless darkness. How fitting - he couldn't help but notice - that it seemed to swell like a living creature, roiling and writhing above him: a monster.
Red began to stain the endless black on the horizon that he had never reached for all the time he'd spent wandering his dream world. Something was rising to usurp the throne the setting sun had left behind, creeping up over the darkened green to snatch away any remaining peace. Not that there had been any to begin with. The thought was partially tame compared to others he's had before.
He watched with wide, frightened eyes as a blood moon – so large it blocked out nearly all the roiling darkness of the sky before him – settles just above the horizon. It looms over him, yet another painful reminder of those waiting in the waking world that he has yet to disappoint. Absently he wondered just how long it would be before he let them down, or before they realised that he was not like them; he was a monster.
"Why the long face?" Rainpatch appeared before him with a mischievous grin. He jerked his head in the direction of the moon; behind him the other Chosen have materialised. "We've got a prophecy to fulfil, don't we?"
"We don't need him." Littleflame's voice was bittersweet. "We can't trust him not to turn on us, you remember what Apollo said. He's one of them. He could be a spy."
Eaglestrike frowned at the little she-cat. "He's helped us get this far, and he'll help us get the rest of the way. The prophecy chose him – he can't turn on us."
"You want to bring him along? Fine. But when he tears your heart from your chest don't say I didn't warn you," Littleflame turned her head away from the Eaglestrike to pin him under a look that makes it hard to breathe. Her eyes are red.
A soft tail trailed up his spine, a sweet scent filling his nostrils. It's hard for him not to smile whenever she makes her presence known. Turning he met her beautiful blue eyes and his heart sped up a fraction. "I haven't had to say goodbye," she said, "and I never will."
Despite her words that made him feel all warm inside a shiver worked its way up the same path her tail drew moments before. He has seen something in her eyes, something he has never wanted to see in them. Distrust.
"Willowclaw!" Someone was digging claws into his shoulders hard enough for him to flinch but light enough not to draw blood. "Wake up, or do you plan on sleeping till next leaf bare?"
He lurched awake with a quiet gasp, thudding his head into the cheek of whoever had pulled him from his nightmare. "That's going to bruise," Rainpatch pouted, rubbing his sore cheek with a forepaw.
Willowclaw swallowed, reclining back into his messy nest with a sigh, burrowing his muzzle into the soft fur of Icepetal. "Why'd you wake me up?" his grumpy response was muffle. The resilient strings still attaching him to his dream had yet to break, he could still see the darkness played out on his eyelids when he closed them.
"Eaglestrike wants us all to eat together," the WaveClanner explained quietly. The Chosen had been given a den all to themselves away from the rest of the tribe. It was hidden behind Tau's medicine den, cradled by the strong roots of the magnificent oak. Having a den to themselves had given them time to rest – not that Willowclaw thought the others needed to rest. The warmth of the small den made it near impossible to leave.
Rain had pelted the tribe's grassland territory for three days. The sky which had remained blue for more days than he could remember was now dull and gray, a mass of bubbling, boiling gray clouds that tracked lazily away from Crimson's mountain, towards the Clan's valley that seemed to grow further and further away with each passing day.
The constant downpour had turned the tribe's camp into a muddy mess dotted with a few patches of wet grass. Prey catchers – members of the tribe that had been chosen as hunters only – had moved the fresh-kill pile to a relatively dry spot under a root that broke and arched over the ground.
"Is it still raining?" Willowclaw grumbled, not moving his muzzle from Icepetal's fur. Her sides rose and fell as she slept soundly. There were no words to describe just how happy it made him that she was healthy now, able to sleep in the same nest as him each night. He smiled, burying his nose deeper.
She shuffled beneath him, a quiet whine threading from her throat. "Move over," she mumbled, "you're crushing me with your fat."
"No," Willowclaw huffed. Throwing a paw over her side he hauled her closer, "it's warm, I'm not going anywhere."
Rainpatch snorted, "Both of you need to get up off your lazy rear ends. We can't laze around the tribe's camp; Crimson isn't going to just appear dead at our paws. Up, up!"
Both cats hissed curses and names at the blue-furred tom that were distorted by the haze of sleep still hanging around them. Pricking his ears Willowclaw found that he couldn't hear the thrumming of rain against the ground he'd gotten so used to hearing. "I'm injured, I get to sleep all day while you all run around," Icepetal muttered making no attempt to move from the warm nest.
"Don't make me drag you out of that nest, missy, because I will! You're healthy enough to join us for a bite to eat. We haven't had your company for far too long," Rainpatch stuck his tongue out.
Willowclaw didn't need to look to know that Icepetal was glaring at the far too awake tom staring down at them with a stupid grin. He did, however, groan when she slid her body out from under him, rising to her paws before dipping down into a long stretch that tapered out into a loud yawn. He flinched when his eyes came to rest on one of the puncture wounds still marring her side.
Lost deep in the memory of seeing Padshiy's teeth cracking her small body he jumped when her muzzle brushed against his own. Looking up he smiled at the bright glint in her pretty blue eyes. "If I have to get up, then so do you," she informed him with a soft purr.
He let loose a long sigh, giving into the demands of his friends. "Okay, alrighty, I'm up, I'm up."
Rainpatch made a victorious noise and practically bounced from the den, shouting for Eaglestrike and Littleflame to find the best pieces of prey. To make matters worse, Willowclaw's stomach chose that precise moment to make its hunger very well known in the form of an angry growl. The embarrassment was worth hearing the laughter that Icepetal let out. He'd missed that sound.
"Maybe I am a little hungry," he admitted sheepishly.
Icepetal looped her tail around his just before he placed a forepaw outside the den, inducing a strange fluttering feeling in his heart. Glancing back at her he cocked a brow in a questioning manner, but just got a cheeky smile in reply. Upon leaving the warmth of the den her tail slipped from his, though she still walked close enough for their fur to brush.
"We were beginning to think you two were planning on sleeping Crimson away," Eaglestrike laughed from where he sat in a patch of strong sunlight. Beside him, dozing peacefully with her head resting on her paws, was Littleflame. The PhoenixClan tom nudged her awake once he spotted the others emerging from the den.
Icepetal trotted over to join them, the muscles in her legs still a little stiff. "That sounds like a marvellous idea. Where's the prey? Rainpatch wouldn't stop going on about prey."
The tom in question made an indignant noise, "I mentioned it once!"
"Here," Littleflame pawed a fat rabbit over to Icepetal. "We saved this one for you."
"Are you seriously planning on eating that entire rabbit yourself?" Willowclaw ran his muzzle up Icepetal's spine.
The smile she gave him over her shoulder was smug. "Just watch me," she said, settling down in front of her prey, stripping flesh from bone in a ravished manner.
"Did you save anything for me?" Willowclaw asked, tucking his paws under his body.
A moment later a squirrel thudded into his head, fuzzy tail flopping over his face. The others dissolved into fits of laughter, Rainpatch crowing about how darn good his shot was. Willowclaw simply shook his head in disbelief, the squirrel flopping to the ground with the sudden movement.
They ate together for the first time in five days; slipped back into their usual routine of poking fun at each other, putting their wits to the test, tossing insults back and forth, simply enjoying the company of one another. They'd each made comments about Willowclaw's dramatic showdown against the two ancestors – Rainpatch still refused to forgive him for the tree incident regardless of how many times Willowclaw blamed Apollo.
As if hearing her name on the breeze Apollo burst into the camp, a bird – swallow – hanging from her closed mouth. She spotted the Chosen sitting in the sun and picked her way over to them, a victorious glint shining in her eyes. Tossing the swallow to the ground she flopped down beside Rainpatch with a grin. "Great hunting here," she purred, choosing to ignore Rainpatch's glare that was no doubt burning holes in the side of her head.
"Leaf bare's over," Eaglestrike supplied, "all the preys running strong again."
"Running strong and slow," Apollo laughed.
Littleflame flicked the sparrow with the tip of her tail, commenting about the large amount of feather's Apollo was going to have to strip off. The strange she-cat spat a feather in her direction, eyes darkening a fraction. Willowclaw arched a brow. There was something particularly off-putting about her that he was worried about. None of the others seemed to notice or care, but it was a nagging suspicion at the back of his mind. Why had she been in the tribe's territory in the first place? Who had been the shadow-cat standing beside her moments before she forced the trees to fall?
He bit back the need to question her, nibbling on his squirrel in an attempt to chase the suspicions away, though he knew that wouldn't vanish anytime soon. "Are Felix and Sadie still with Tau?" he interrupted Eaglestrike and Icepetal's game of batting a bone between each other.
"She says they're recovering," Littleflame answered quietly, absently fiddling with a feather.
"Recovering from what?" Willowclaw snorted. "They weren't injured or ill last time I saw them."
A tribe cat lumbered past with a younger cat, face still rounded with kit fluff, in tow. The two were speaking in low tones, casting subtle glances at the strangers in their camp. A sudden surge of worry sped through him as he glanced around the tribe's camp. There seemed to be a rather lot of the tribe cats hanging around the camp. Usually most were out hunting in big groups – they could take down larger prey that way – or patrolling their expansive territory. Fuhren was perched on a high root watching his tribe with guarded eyes, tail curled neatly over his paws. Blute was nowhere to be seen.
The tribe leader nodded to a group of burly guards lingering around Tau's den. With a brief chuckle they slipped inside the den. "Hey-" his question was cut off when Fuhren let out a mighty yowl, summoning his tribe to him.
Eaglestrike shrugged, "suppose that means us as well. Come on."
"I have a bad feeling about this," Willowclaw grumbled thinking no one was listening.
Warm fur brushed against his, "you have bad feelings about everything," Icepetal pointed out cheekily.
"Do not," he protested weakly.
The tribe came together a little ways from Fuhren's perch on the root, leaving an empty space between them and their leader. "We have guests that deserve thanking," Fuhren began. "I will admit that our first meeting might not have been an overly warm one but they have done what they promised to do. Padshiy and Kateria are dead! Our homelands are safe once again!"
Cheering broke out amongst the gathered cats a few even turning to shout thank you at the sheepish Chosen. Fuhren's face remained stony as he continued, "with the healing of their injured friend I suspect they will want to leave in the coming days. When you do go our thanks and good wishes will go with you." There was a flicker of a grin but it was gone as soon as it appeared.
"Thank you for your hospitality," Eaglestrike replied politely. His twitching tail gave away just how irritated he was at having to thank the leader for forcing them to stay. "We plan on leaving tomorrow."
Tomorrow? He hadn't discussed this with any of the others if the looks of surprise on their faces were anything to go off. Willowclaw couldn't help but roll his eyes; Eaglestrike was back to leading the group. He was a little grateful for no longer having the responsibility.
"I'm very glad that you are still here to witness how we deal with traitors," Fuhren's words chilled Willowclaw to the bone. What traitors? "It's a tribe tradition, you see, and one we are so very proud of."
Blute materialised beside her father, stepping delicately across the roots of the might oak to sit on a root just below him. There was a look of defeat in her eyes. "Bring them out!" Fuhren yowled.
Screeching sounded from Tau's den along with the telltale sounds of a fight playing out. The guards from before stepped out of the den forcefully hauling two shapes with them that were shrieking and fighting with all they had. But the guards were strong, the attempts at escape futile.
"No," Willowclaw whispered.
They threw Felix and Sadie into the blank space between the gathered tribe and their leader, prowling around them in a predatory way. Cries of excitement went up from the tribe cats as they got an eyeful of the supposed traitors. "No!" he said louder, rising to his paws. "They aren't traitors! They helped me save you all!"
"Those two are Crimson's soldiers, are they not?" Fuhren asked.
"...yes," Willowclaw answered hesitantly.
Fuhren scratched at the root with a claw, "that makes them traitors to all cats. Siding with her has made them our enemies. We can't allow them to remain alive after they've seen so much of our territory."
"We helped you!" Felix caterwauled. "We aren't her soldiers anymore! You have to believe me!"
A guard slammed Felix's head back towards the ground, grinning at the solid thud the ex-soldier's head made against the hard ground. "Please, we aren't part of her army anymore," Sadie pleaded. A drop of blood rolled from a cut near her eye. "We're telling the truth."
"Liars!" Fuhren roared, "You want us to believe that you're no longer her soldiers so that you can scurry back to her with all our secrets!" His eyes were wide, ears flattened against his skull, and a crazed look was beginning to form on the dark gray tom's face. "You demons can't hide who you are from us! You might have tricked those Clan cats but you'll never trick us tribe cats! We're far too smart."
"Ungrateful bastard," Felix swore, twisted his head under the paw of the guard to glare up at Fuhren. "I hope Crimson does find her way to this stinking tribe and kills all of you, every last one."
A maniacal fire lit up the leader's eyes. "Did you hear that!? He hopes his leader will kill us all! A threat! He threatens the tribe!"
The tribe's elites – seven brutal cats trained to kill – stalked towards the ex-soldiers with hackles raised and claws digging into the ground. They snarled with lips pulled back to bare sharp teeth. "No! They don't!" Willowclaw frantically looked over to Blute hoping that she would do something. "Stop them! You know they're innocent!" But the tribe's heiress only looked away.
Teeth yanked at his tail pulling him back away from Felix and Sadie. "None of them are going to listen," Icepetal hissed.
"I can't just sit here and do nothing! They're innocent!" he cried.
"What if they're not? We don't know what they did when they were still Crimson's soldiers," she whispered. Willowclaw stared down at her with an open jaw. Did she really just expect him to stand there and do nothing?
Fuhren laughed loudly, balancing precariously on the root. "Kill them!" he ordered. In one swift movement the elites swooped down on Felix and Sadie with claws glinting in the light of the sun. Willowclaw let out a harsh cry of horror, going to leap into the fray to help the ex-soldiers until a sudden weight slammed into his shoulders and pinned him there. He writhed under the paws holding him down, spitting and hissing.
"You'll only make it worse!" Eaglestrike snapped from above him.
"They'll die!"
The PhoenixClanner sighed, "Then so be it."
A cry of pain rang out and Willowclaw surged to his paws, knocking Eaglestrike away from him to see what was happening. They were both fighting with all they had, clawing at any elite that drew too close, but it was still seven against two. In a momentary lapse of defence in which Felix stumbled over his own paws three elites sprang forward, catching the smoky gray tom in a flurry of claws and teeth. Blood splattered when claws cleaved through the skin near his shoulder, a screech erupting from his chest as another set of claws tore across both his eyes.
Icepetal thrust her way in front of Willowclaw before he could pounce, a growl rumbling deep in her throat. "Don't. You will die, and then they will kill the rest of us."
"She's right," Apollo added. "These tribe cats are crazy."
He looked at the two she-cats without really seeing them. Did they even know they were condemning two innocent lives to death!? Did they even care..?
Sadie hit the ground with a strangled cry, an elite firmly attached to her throat whilst raking claws down her stomach. She wriggled around until she had enough room to press both forepaws against the elite's chest and shove, shrieking as flesh was torn from her throat. Her front was soaked with red blood, dripping and oozing to the bloody grass beneath her paws. Whipping around she snapped at another elite going for her haunches, ripping claws across his face.
Felix rolled past her in a wailing ball of fur and claws, viciously grappling with a she-cat elite whose teeth were shredding his ears. A powerful kick from strong forelegs sent him skidding across the ground with the cream elite's fur wedged between his claws. Before he could roll to his paws another elite pounced on him, chasing the air from his lungs with a head butt to the stomach. Caterwauling Felix rocketed upwards, lashing out blindly at the elite not seeing the she-cat creeping up on him from behind.
His howl stabbed into Willowclaw's heart but the gushing gashes on his flank didn't stop him from dashing just out of the she-cat's reach at the last moment, spitting at the two elites with enough ferocity to rival even Padshiy. A third dropped from the roots above, clinging onto Felix's back with sharp claws. The smoky tom threw himself to the ground to dislodge the elite, gouging a bloody line down his spine as the elite toppled off. Teeth dug into his scruff and hauled him off his paws before driving him back into the ground. His right foreleg met the ground with a loud snap.
The other two elites were waiting with bloody grins. The she-cat stepped over Felix, gripping his scruff in her mouth to pull his head up off the ground. A pale ginger tom, the one who had jumped from the roots, positioned his claws on one side of Felix's exposed throat, gave the gray tom a wicked smirk, and ripped his claws through flesh.
Felix screamed until his scream tapered off into a ghastly coughing, gasping sound. Blood poured from his slit throat painting his chest and legs scarlet. He fought desperately for breath, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he struggled. A final cough spat blood into the face of the ginger tom, and then he lay still.
The cream she-cat let his lifeless head drop only to be thrown off her paws by Sadie heartbeats later, skin flayed from her sides by the calico's vicious swipes. Sadie was limping and bloody, her ears torn to shreds, sides dotted with deep gashes, but she wasn't giving up. Her eyes were dull, not lingering on the body of her mate. Charging through the elites she gave almost as much as was given, lashing out whenever she could. The ginger tom found himself pinned under her weight shrieking as she dragged her claws down his spine, only released when another elite threw Sadie off him.
She was tiring, the brave calico, wearing down under the constant attacks. A slip sent her tumbling to the ground under four elites, becoming a mass of blood-spattered fur as they struggled against each other. She howled when a heavy weight slammed into her side, rolling to avoid another set of paws from crashing down on her. Her roll brought her under Fuhren's root, the elites rolling with her in their hissing pile. Teeth sunk into her tail just as claws dug into either side of her head, both pulling in separate directions. Feeling her body stretch beyond its limits she fought to free herself.
A brute of a tom threw his weight down her stretched spine, laughing as it gave way with a horrendous cracking sound. Sadie's yowl was agonised, her hind-legs falling limply behind her once her tail was let go. Tears tracked down her face as she crawled brokenly towards Felix's body, mumbling what could have been prayers under her breath. She never reached him, skull caving in under the weight of the same brutish tom's paws crashing down on her head.
The camp fell eerily silent.