'A warning to the people
The good and the evil
This is war.'

'This is War' - Thirty Seconds to Mars

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Icepetal was doing something she never did. She was pacing. Backwards and forwards, up and down the line of waiting city-cats. She swung her head as she went, muttering a constant stream of profanities and insults under her breath. Nervous, now that was something she could never remember feeling just before a battle; eager, charged, delight, but never nervous. It was an irritating feeling and she hated it, hated the way it made her fur crawl. Of all the times to feel like this, it had to be today. She snarled loudly, tossing her head to look at the chaotic sky.

It wasn't a normal storm. The thunder was far too loud, the rain too cold, and the lightning...well the lightning was green. She wrinkled her nose and fluffed out her fur against the chill, hating how the freezing rain seeping into her coat. In between the claps of thunder the shrieks of fighting could be heard. Was Eaglestrike okay? Was Tornheart injured? Had Apollo fallen? Were the city-cats losing?

"You're worried," Arrow stated.

"Aren't you?" Icepetal spat back.

The tom shrugged but she didn't miss the way his expression faltered. "I believe in them all. I believe that we can win. There's no need for me to be worried."

"What about your mate?" she hissed, "aren't you worried about her?"

"Of course I am! I love Tornheart and I'm terrified that I won't see her again. She's been through so much, there's been no one around to love her, but now there is." Arrow takes a deep breath. "If she dies I don't know what I'll do. But cats die in war, cats die every day. When the world decides your time is up then you best hope you made the most of your life."

Icepetal raised her voice defensively, "we loved her too! I thought she was dead for moons, Arrow, I heard her death scream echo through a forest."

"You hated her first," he reminded.

"I was raised to believe that she was the reason behind the Clans falling. A blood-oath can't be forced; both partakers have to be willing."

"She was a kit," Arrow seethed, "a confused little kit with parents that distrusted her and a Clan that didn't want her. All she wanted was to be beautiful, because she'd lived all her life listening to her sisters being praised on their beauty. Crimson promised her that, Crimson used that. Tornheart's doing all she can to fix what she did. Have some faith."

"You think I don't have faith in her!? When Littleflame was dying, her throat torn out, Tornheart appeared out of nowhere, coming to our help even though it put her own at risk. She thought she was going to die, she said goodbye to us knowing that she would die. So don't you dare say I don't have faith in her! Tornheart is the only other cat I trust with my life," Icepetal lashed her tail.

Arrow tilted his head to one side. "I can see now why Tornheart speaks so highly of you. She admires you quite a lot."

"I'm not a cat others should be admiring."

"Why not? From what I've seen and heard you have the bravery of a lion, and the strength to conquer mountains."

"Because I'm half-Clan, I don't fit in anywhere, I abandoned my Clan, and I fell in love with a RogueClan tom," she snapped her mouth shut with a clack.

Arrow's muzzle curved upwards into a victorious smile, "so Willowclaw did manage to worm his way into your heart. Tornheart owes me a rabbit."

"How do you know so much about us?" Icepetal muttered incredulously.

"Like I said, Tornheart speaks highly of you, but she also speaks highly of the others. Do you know she thought of you all as family? All I had to do was listen to find out all your little secrets," he laughed.

Family. Icepetal swallowed the lump forming in her throat. They might have been family moons ago, but they weren't a family anymore, not with Willowclaw trapped with the tribe and Littleflame dead. A sudden bout of fear clutched at her heart. She can't deal with anyone else dying. Who'll knock sense into her if Eaglestrike dies? Who'll let her rest her head against his chest just to hear his heartbeat because it calms her down if Rainpatch doesn't make it? They are a family, broken and split, but a family nonetheless.

A horrendously loud crack of thunder ripped through the city, and a pillar of green fire blasted into the sky from just outside the city, from the place where the battle was taking place. It ripped a hole in the thick clouds, flaring and spitting as it rose higher. The ground beneath their paws jolted and the shrieks of battle turned to screams of fear.

Icepetal looked over at Arrow, words dying on her tongue. "That wasn't in the plan?" she managed to say.

He shook his head eyes wide, "no, that was not in the plan. It's Tornheart's magic, she told me she couldn't access it anymore."

"How do you know its Tornheart's?" she looked back at the fire, observing the way the green licked at the clouds, spreading out, and burning through them. She swallowed; the sky was on fire.

"Tornheart's magic is green in colour." A chilling howl echoed through the empty city streets, carried on the whistling wind. From the clouds near the pillar of green descended a monster wreathed in crimson flame, crashing into sight in an explosion of red. Even from where they stood they could see each vicious looking tooth lining its thin maw. "Crimson's is red."

"She's going up against Crimson," Icepetal breathed.

"A battle of magic."

She sucked in a lungful of air, "Frozengaze has magic too, doesn't he?"

"I...I wouldn't know?" Arrow answered helplessly.

"He does. He used it on me. We need to get to them now and stop him. If he starts fighting with his magic Tornheart won't stand a chance," she said.

"But the plan..." he protested.

Icepetal scowled at him. "Forget the plan; the plan didn't give leeway for magic. If we don't do something everyone will die." She turned to acknowledge the cats behind her, "city-cats! The time has come to defend your home. There's an entire army out there that wants to take this place away from you. Are you going to let them?"

"No!"

"Then let's go show them what city-cats are made of," she smirked. "Lead the way, Arrow. Take us to the battlefield."

The green fire swelled, crackling as it devoured the clouds. It was beautiful in a terrifying way, a vivid shade of green – that Icepetal had realised was the same shade as Tornheat's eyes – set against the dark grey sky, broken up the crimson red monster dipping and diving. On the wind was the stench of burning, the thick, acrid taste of smoke. It brought back memories of the burning valley and the race through it, of dodging falling trees with fire for leaves, of having to leave behind their screaming Clan-mates.

Icepetal tried to steady her uneven breathing and thudding heart, but couldn't. Fighting a patrol of soldiers in the snow was nothing like racing towards an entire army in a storm. She ground her teeth together, set her eyes on the road in front of her paws, and imagined the blood she would spill, the soldiers she'd tear apart. It would be revenge, she told herself, for Littleflame. She'd slit a few throats for Willowclaw as well.

She snorted. If Willowclaw had been with them he'd be storming ahead to crack as many skulls as he could. He'd know what to say to calm her down; he always did, even if it took a few tries for it to make sense. She could do this. She would do this, for Willowclaw.

"More city-cats!" a loud voice crowed, "don't let 'em get past you!"

"Take as many down with you as you can!" Arrow hollered.

Impact, a solid wall armed with teeth and claws, harsh breath shooting past her ear, howls and cries filling the air, a guttural gasp spitting blood in her face; death. The soldier dropped like a rock. She stood over it, throat and muzzle covered in red, grinning. This was what she loved. This was what she was born to do.

A little gray she-cat snapped at her haunches, a terrible mistake. Icepetal brought her forepaws down on the little cat's back, snapping it. The soldier cried out, fear showing in the whites of her eyes. "Please," she whimpered, "don't kill me."

"You picked the wrong side." Her blood washed over Icepetal's paws in warm waves, pulsating out of the hole in the little she-cat's throat.

"Breeth!" the shouted name was paired with a blow to the side of her head, a bulky tom with a face twisted in agony. He was already injured, a bone poking through the flesh of a foreleg. Yet, he still fought on, stumbling around Icepetal's strikes. It was admirable. His claws caught and ripped a chunk of skin from her side. Less admirable. "I'll kill you for what you've done!"

She rolled her eyes, kicking a soldier that was trying to sneak up on her, snapped her jaws shut on the ears of another, all the while glaring at the limping tom. "Look, I'd love to stay and have a fair fight with you," she gouged out orange eyes, "but there's someone I need to help." Another soldier fell, skull cracked. The bulky tom eyed his fallen comrades, swallowed thickly, and charged. Icepetal left him with a broken back to match that of his she-cat friend's.

In the sky above resided the crimson monster, letting loose roars that sounded near identical to the thunder echoing around it. The forest was burning, so was the grass slowly being churned into mud under the paws of struggling cats. Tornheart's green fire still ate away at the clouds. Tendrils of it snapped out at Crimson's beast, snaking around its limbs, mixing with its red fire. It's a battle of a different kind of strength.

Icepetal broke necks and slit throats without so much as blinking. All around her lives were being cut short. It was clear to her that the city-cats were losing. The soldiers had spent every day for moons fighting and training under Crimson's watchful eye. It wasn't surprising, but the fact that they were losing so quickly was unsettling. Where was the other group? Had a runner been sent to Rainpatch, was he fighting as well? She hadn't seen Eaglestrike or Apollo either.

A flash of golden brown snagged her attention. "Arrow!" she shouted, wriggling out from under the soldier that had her pinned. She plunged the soldier's muzzle into the mud beneath them and held it there until it stopped writhing.

"What!?" Arrow roared back, wincing as a soldier tore out a heap of fur. "I'm a little preoccupied!"

"Oh come on, you can't even handle one soldier? I've got two!" she retorted. An explosive pounce had her colliding into a tabby tom, two more soldiers falling on top of her. They rolled, and Icepetal took advantage of the chaos to disembowel one of them, suffocate another, and crush the lungs of the third. She hauled herself out from under the corpses with a grin. "I think I'm beating you."

"Not all of us are trained killers," Arrow frowned and tripped up his soldier, yanking at its tail to pull it off balance. "What do you want!?"

"Has a runner been sent to Rainpatch's group?"

The wind changed direction abruptly, blowing smoke and fire towards them. "Why do you think I would know?! I haven't exactly had the time to stop and ask where everyone is! Send one now just in case."

"You!" Icepetal recognised a city-cat from earlier, sinking her teeth into his scruff before he could shoot past. "I have something I need you to do."

"Will it get me out of here?" the tom panted.

"Go find Rainpatch's group, they should be just inside Miraz's territory. Tell him he needs to come help us, got it?" she told him. He nodded, and left, slipping around enemies like a snake.

Arrow was waiting, flanks heaving, the soldier dead under his paws. "Let's go find Tornheart."

Chaotic was one way to describe the battle, horrifying and bloodthirsty. The knowledge that death could be round the corner, a minute lapse in attention could mean the end. So many wouldn't live to see the dawn. Crushed bodies and organs were being stamped into the mud, mixing with it to create a foul smelling mush. She didn't want to be plunged down into a pile of intestines.

It was hard to see through the slanting rain and thick smoke, when enemies appeared there was only a split-second to evade the before they came crashing down in a flurry of claws. Icepetal had an easier time getting out of the way than Arrow did; she had to pull him out from under a fair few soldiers. They worked surprisingly well together, back to back, forcing their way through the ranks.

Both of Icepetal's ears were split, the skin on her back was raw from being clawed at, and the rest of her body was laced with wounds deep and shallow. Arrow had chunks of his pretty fur missing, splotches of irritated red skin showing. A long gouge crossed over his right eye.

"There!" it felt like they'd been fighting for days, "I see her!"

Sparks of green and red illuminated the thick smoke, and the feeling of immense power weighed down on their shoulders. Arrow looked prepared to dive in straight away. "Stop! Think about what you're about to do!" Icepetal hissed. "If you go charging in there Crimson will turn around, use her magic, and kill you. We need to find Frozengaze and take care of him!"

"I can't leave her to fight Crimson by herself!" Arrow exclaimed.

"Tornheart needs to do this by herself."

"But I thought it was the Chosen that had to kill Crimson to fix everything?"

She shrugged, "if we're the ones that have to kill her then Tornheart will make sure we kill her. Let's go."

"You aren't going anywhere." From the smoke emerged Crimson's bone soldiers, leering at them with mocking grins. "Nowhere at all."

'A warning to the prophet
The liar, the honest
This is war.'

They could sense each other's presence no matter how far apart they were. A delicate line connected them, it had connected them since she'd taken the oath, and it would quite possibly always connect them, even in death. The two of them shared blood, it thrummed through their veins in a twisted mix of good and evil; a potent, terrible mix. Their magic was similar, violent and harsh, chaotic. Yet red meant death, and green life. So perhaps it wasn't so similar after all. For all the moons they had spent alongside each other, destroying the Clans day by day, they had never become alike, they had remained different, like new leaf and leaf bare; opposites. Yet she could always thank the other for the darker side of her, for the urges she got to hunt down those that looked down at her, for the urges to destroy what would never be hers.

Even now, staring each other down amongst the ruin of war, there was something between them that fluttered delicately, a fragile breath of a time long past. Her magic roared behind her, the pillar of fire casting an eerie green glow over the ground. She knew her face was twisted into a snarl, lips pulled back to bare pointed teeth, knew that the flashes of green lightning lit up the hatred in her eyes. Green represented life, but in that moment it represented so much more.

Crimson looked ill, haggard, old. Her pelt hung limply against her thin figure, not a healthy thin, the kind of thin that came with protruding ribs, gnarled hips, and far too angular knees. She breathed heavily like each step was a gigantic effort. Her eyes, once intelligent circles of blood, now stared dully. There was a tiny spark in them but it looked to be fizzling out. "Look what you've caused with your meddling," even her voice was tired, "all these faithful city-cats that will die trying to protect their crumbling home."

"They would have fought for their home even without my meddling," Tornheart hissed back. A tendril of green snapped out from the pillar, licking at the empty air. The fur on her spine bristled with the power heavy in the sky. An inner battle waged within her; kill the monster that ruined her life without giving her a second to apologise, or make her surrender her kingdom, let her live out the rest of her days locked up in the bottom of her mountain. The argument continued until her logic returned and the reason for her even being there made itself clear. Crimson had to die.

"They would have died quicker without it," Crimson sneered, then looked pointedly at the pillar of fire, a soft, wounded look melting over her face. "I never taught you to do that. I never taught you to use the power you'd been given."

Tornheart faltered, "You knew?"

"When our blood mingled I knew. I could feel the unimaginable power surging through your veins, eating away at your sanity. All the things you would be able to do should you have harnessed it then I could see, you could have ended the world with a flick of your paw. It scared me, Tornheart, to come into the living world and meet someone as powerful as you."

"How come you never taught me to use it? You could have used even more of me," Tornheart growled, hurt that Crimson had kept such a secret from her. It had taken moons of the Upholders tapping into her body to find the magic that had dwindled down to a slight dribble. Disuse had wasted so much of it.

Crimson frowned. "So much power would have destroyed something as small as you, a waste of something magnificent. If I trained you myself, made you stronger, strong enough to control it all, I figured some of the magic would have drained away and you would have been able to use it all without hurting yourself. But I suppose you found it yourself. Did those useless Upholders help?"

"They sure did more for me than you ever did."

"Oh really?" she scoffed, "tell me, did those Upholders teach you from the age of an apprentice how to kill? Did they teach you how to look after yourself when the whole world had turned against you? Did they show you how to lead armies and conquer Clans? Did they teach you how to be independent? How to get what you want? How to take over the world? I taught you all that, Tornheart, I turned you into the cat you are today. You may not believe me, but you're alive today because of me."

"I'm hideous because of you!" Tornheart cried. "You sat back and watched as Frozengaze tore our deal apart, as he ripped my face to shreds all because I'd defied you, because I'd found my place in the world and it wasn't with you. Moons and moons ago, when I was still the age of an apprentice, you sat by my side and listened to me as I told you how much I hated who I was, how much I hated how small and weak and ugly I was, and you used that against me. I trusted you, Crimson; I believed that you actually wanted to help me. But it had all been just a lie, a way to use me."

Crimson took a halting step back, ears flattened against her skull, eyes wide. "It started off as a way to use you, but it changed!" she added hastily, "it changed, Tornheart, I changed, you changed me and I don't know how or why but you made me different. At the start all I wanted was to rule the world through any means necessary, even if it meant crawling over others to get there. You and Jinx were just a means to an end. But somewhere along the way I stopped seeing you two as objects and started seeing you as living beings, as wonderful things with stories to tell and futures to carve. I wanted you to rule the world beside me one day, as my...friends."

"Don't give me that!" Tornheart spat bitterly, "stop lying, stop making up stories, stop it! You don't have feelings, Crimson. You were created for the sole purpose of destruction. It's all you know, it's all you'll ever know. You didn't feel a shred of remorse or sadness when you ripped my face up and threw me in that tomb for moons. You didn't feel a thing when Jinx was crushed by a freak landslide, she was murdered, you idiot, murdered for ridding the world of your evil offspring. We did the right thing killing your sons. You couldn't have ever loved them."

Crimson screamed at the top of her lungs, throwing back her head to howl at the sky. The weight of power dangling over them grew heavier and the clouds overhead glowed red. From the gray emerged a monster, writhing and rolling, spitting fire, made of fire. It howled, the shriek eerily similar to the one dwindling in Crimson's throat, and looked down, moving wings that sent embers skittering across the clouds. From the pillar shot green, wrapping around the monster's throat and yanking, inducing another howl.

"So, Tornheart, shall we face off?" Crimson drawled rolling her head till her neck cracked. "You want to kill me, and you're in my way so I suppose I'll have to kill you. You've been waiting for this day for moons no doubt."

The monster overhead roared and the two she-cats below met in the middle.