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Onto the chapter!
Nettlestep was beyond relieved when he found out that he and Maplekit were not the last Clan cats left. But that didn't mean that it didn't feel like a twisting claw in his stomach when he realized that he was the last medicine cat alive.
An unfortunate turnabout, really. Despite his name and title, Nettlestep still was an apprentice. Littlefern had deemed him knowledgeable enough to grant him full medicine cat status, but he still had things to learn from her. If Littlefern had survived instead of him, Nettlestep had no doubt they would all have had a better chance of living through this. Come to think of it, any medicine cat would've been more suitable than him. Softbelly, Redtalon, Creeklight, and Willowleaf all had moons of experience on him. But they had all been at the gathering. It was only because of a bought of whitecough in camp that Nettlestep had decided to stay behind. And to think he had been so worried about the whitecough. . .
Regardless of his competence, he was the only medicine cat. It had taken him a moment to realize the gazes of the survivors all rested on him. So he had suggested that he visit the Moonpool—in a voice much more raw and weaker than he'd like to admit—and consult StarClan for answers. When no one protested, they had trudged up the used-to-be stream of the WindClan-ThunderClan border, and Nettlestep told them to wait behind as he made his way down to the Moonpool.
So here he was, alone, studying the pool. Upon first glance, it seemed entirely unaffected by whatever had destroyed the gathering island. It was just as still as serene as ever, reflecting the starry sky and the full moon—which was slightly unnerving, as he was used to the half moon here—in all its glory. But something still wasn't right. Nettlestep pricked his ears, glancing around as his tail tip flicked nervously. After a moment, it hit him.
It was silent.
The familiar trickle of water was absent. No fresh water was flowing into the pool, and it made Nettlestep almost sick to his stomach to this that something so sacred and pure would soon become clogged with debris and dirt. Slowly, numbly, he padded down the rocks and approached the pool. After a brief second of hesitation, he took a single lap of the water and proceeded to curl up on the cold stone floor, failing to find a comfortable position. Giving up, he closed his eyes.
And he was falling.
It was dark and he couldn't see a thing, and his stomach flew up to his throat as the air rushed passed him. Nettlestep flailed his limbs in an attempt to grab onto something, but to no avail. He attempted to shout, but the sound got caught in his throat. This had never happened before, this wasn't supposed to happen-
Nettlestep jumped to his paws, gasping. He looked around wildly, alleviated upon recognizing the StarClan fields and feeling the soft grass beneath his claws. Once his heart stopped feeling like it would leap out of his chest, Nettlestep paused, finally noticing the starry black pelt out of the corner of his eye. He spun around, his own green gaze meeting the amber one of Sleekstar.
For a moment, they said nothing. Because for Nettlestep, there was too much to say. He wanted to shout, he wanted to press his face against Sleekstar's familiar flank and howl, he wanted to rake his claws across Sleekstar's neutral face and scream. Questions and demands were running through his mind, but none of them were satisfactory enough. And Sleekstar just 'stood' there, watching Nettlestep with unreadable eyes. Finally, he managed to croak out one word: "Why?"
Sleekstar looked down at his paws. "StarClan had no control over this. We couldn't have stopped it if we tried. It was out of our power." The StarClan cat's voice was even and rehearsed.
Nettlestep slowly looked up, silently daring Sleekstar to meet his gaze, letting his rage boil beneath the surface upon seeing the black tom's indifference. "Then why didn't you warn us?" It was spoken like a quiet demand, not a question.
Sleekstar accepted his dare. Without missing a beat, he replied, "Littlefern knew."
Sleekstar blurred before him. Nettlestep's anger drained out of him, replaced by sheer shock and denial. "No- she couldn't have- she would've-" he shook his head. "You're lying."
Sleekstar looked at him with something resembling pity. "There was nothing she could have done. She knew the Clans didn't stand a chance."
"We could have evacuated!" Nettlestep shot back. "Do you have any idea how many lives calling off the Gathering would have saved?"
"Forty-three."
Nettlestep froze.
Sleekstar let out a long sigh. "Nettlestep... The Clans are over. Believe me, it's not a decision StarClan made lightly. But it's time for them to end."
Nettlestep stared ahead at nothing, shaking his head. "No..."
Sleekstar exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry." With that, he pushed himself to his paws and began heading towards the underbrush.
"Wait!" Nettlestep called, almost involuntarily. "What am I- What are we supposed to do?" He hated how his voice cracked on the last word.
To his relief, Sleekstar stopped and turned his head to face him. "My advice? Find a nice twoleg nest and cry out until they let you in. It might take a while, but eventually, you'll have a warm nest and plenty of food all to yourself."
Nettlestep blinked, trying to manage his utter disbelief at the former ThunderClan leader's words. Sleekstar continued forward, but right before he disappeared into the bushes, he paused. "If it's any consolation," he began, not bothering to turn and face him, "StarClan's willing to be lenient regarding if you obey the Warrior Code for the remainder of your life, considering," he waved his tail in a broad gesture, "all of this."
At his words, Nettlestep saw red. His eyes were slits as he stared at the black tom, and his claws were extended as his lips curled back into a snarl. "Coward!"
With that, he flung himself at the StarClan cat, sinking his claws into his back. Sleekstar immediately flipped onto his back, crushing the medicine cat under his weight. He quickly jumped back to his feet and pinned Nettlestep under him, with one paw—claws extended—against his throat. Nettlestep gasped, barely able to process what just happened. Sleekstar stared down at him, his amber gaze indecipherable. Nettlestep met the leader's eyes, a challenge in his own.
After a moment's hesitation, Sleekstar stepped back and allowed Nettlestep to stand. Wordlessly, Sleekstar turned and vanished into the underbrushes. Nettlestep had to restrain himself from calling after him, swallowing down the cry that was rising in his throat.
StarClan wouldn't help him anyway.
Nettlestep woke up with a gasp. He was laying on his side next to the Moonpool, his legs splayed out, his front claws extended. He forced himself to his paws, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the low light. He stared down at the water, running the dream over in his head. Suddenly, he kicked his back legs against the ground and showered sand and earth into the sacred pool, not unlike as if he was burying his own dirt. He got a sick satisfaction from watching the debris disturb the surface of the water and blur out the reflection of the stars above.
Nettlestep turned, facing the way out, and halted. How can I tell the others?
Just outside the entrance to the pool were nine cats, desperate for good news about their salvation. News that Nettlestep couldn't provide. The medicine cat began pacing.
It wasn't fair. He shouldn't be the bearer of this news. He didn't want to see the hope face from their eyes as these cats with so little left realized that their warrior ancestors abandoned them. And then what? Were they expected to go their own ways and become no better than rogues and kittypets? Nettlestep huffed. I bet the ShadowClan kittypet and SkyClan rogue would love that. He thought sarcastically. They had tried to be Clan cats harder than anyone. No way would they take to the idea of reverting back to their original lifestyles. Besides, Nettlestep could barely fight; he wouldn't last a moon as a rogue. As for a kittypet... He curled his lip at the thought.
Nettlestep paused. No. This isn't right. It wasn't time for the Clans to end. Not if I have anything to say about it.
Over seasons upon seasons, the Clans needed their belief in StarClan to hold them together. And the cats waiting out there need something to hold on to, now more than ever. Slowly, an idea formed in Nettlestep's mind.
The medicine cat raced out of the Moonpool, the thudding of his paws over the hard stone transitioning to a softer patter as he ran through the trees to where the cats agreed to meet. He skidded to a stop in the clearing, panting heavily. His gaze skirted over the survivors as they turned to face him, only for his heart to jump in his throat when he realized there was one particular pelt missing.
"Where's Maplekit?!" he demanded, his tail lashing.
He heard a soft hiss in response and his attention was drawn to the RiverClan queen—Rainsomething?—who glanced pointedly at her flank, shifting to reveal her body was curled around the small ginger-and-white figure. The kit was sound asleep, her face pressed against the queen's soft fur. Nettlestep let out a sigh of relief. Rainsomething cast Maplekit an affectionate look, then turned whatever the opposite of that look was Nettlestep. "Can you plunder through the forest any louder? There's still some mice you haven't scared away," she snapped in an undertone.
Nettlestep bristled, but the white RiverClan tom jumped to his defense with, "Rainfire, shut up." Nettlestep had to hold back a smirk at the affronted look on the queen's face. The white tom stepped towards Nettlestep, his expression carefully neutral, but the medicine cat could see the light behind his yellow eyes. "What did StarClan say?"
Suddenly, all eyes were on him, wide and hopeful. Nettlestep swallowed. "StarClan said we are to follow the brightest star in Silverpelt. It will guide us to our new home."
As soon as he finished, the cats turned to each other, their expressions excited. No one noticed how Nettlestep couldn't meet anyone's eyes.
"When do we leave?" Sunpaw exclaimed.
"I think we should head out in the morning," proposed Flamestripe. "For now, we should rest and gather our strength."
No one protested at that. The cats lied down and curled up where they sat, trying to get what little rest they could. Nettlestep considered prying Maplekit off the RiverClan queen so he could watch over her but quickly changed his mind upon seeing Rainsomething's paw holding the kit close to her body like a lifeline.
So Nettlestep slowly lowered himself to the forest floor, more alone than he had ever been in his life, left to contemplate what he'd done.
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