Chapter 8 – Goals
How long had it been since he had a goal? When Duskshadow really thought about it, he remembered the answer: I wanted to be like the warrior Stormclaw was. And his dream seemed to come true when he was apprenticed to the ThunderClan deputy.
He remembered the cats he had fought as a young apprentice, just before his talent really showed through. There was a band of fourteen outlaw cats, some from each Clan, and a few rogues. They had wanted to create a superior Clan to lead the others, and the decisive battle between the band of rogues and ThunderClan was near the lake. Duskshadow was as frightened as any apprentice should have been; the cats he had to fight were legendary: Bladeclaw of ShadowClan, Harewhisker of WindClan, Nightstream of RiverClan, and mad Flamestorm of ThunderClan were amongst the most famous of them.
The battle itself was a popular story that the elders told the kits and apprentices, but after Duskshadow listened to a few, he knew they knew nothing of the real battle. Bladeclaw, Harewhisker, and Nightstream were seasoned warriors who believed in their leader, Flamestorm. The Wildfire, he was called. Flamestorm believed that he was a second Firestar, and wanted to rule the other Clans. In the fight that ensued between ThunderClan and a few of the helping WindClan cats, Duskshadow chanced to fight the Wildfire himself. In the tales the elders told, Flamestorm was rumored to not give a mousetail for the warrior code; all he cared about was winning the war.
What a foe he was. He could have faced all the apprentices in ThunderClan and escaped with only a few lucky scratches, and Duskshadow was no match for him. He could hardly block his swift enraged blows, and he remembered the mad cat's mocks as he scored blow after blow. In the end Stormclaw had rescued him, creeping up behind Flamestorm and breaking his neck with a powerful attack.
The excited apprentice that I was back then, when did he die? When I found out that no apprentice in ThunderClan could beat me? He had wanted to become Stormclaw, yet along the way he had become the mad Wildfire instead.
Duskshadow sighed and went back to work.
The wind was blowing hard from the moorland today; the gusts were causing countless leaves to fall. Imagining that the leaves were enemies, he readied himself and lunged. He kept using his good hind leg to try and strengthen it, to make up for the loss of his other leg. It seemed like he was getting nowhere, but once he could actually jump a bit farther than before.
After training, he went back to camp to sleep with the feeling of accomplishment. I've forgotten how good that could feel.
Before he could drift completely into sleep, however, he heard a rustle as a cat entered the den. The dark golden pelt told him that it was his sister. Her green eyes shone in the darkness as she mewed, "Duskshadow, are you awake?"
"I am now." He sat up, his crippled leg hidden from view. "What do you want? It's almost midnight!"
Dawncloud's eyes were full of cunning. "I'm going to be leader in a few days," she announced. "Foxstar is dying."
"What?" His ears were pricked forward, and his own eyes were filled with worry. "How? He's old but he's pretty healthy—"
"Ravenwing was treating Foxstar today, when you were gone from camp. No one else knows either, but me. I'm really lucky—I have a lot of time to pick my own deputy!"
Her words felt wrong to him. Before, he would have been excited at the sense of having so much information—but he remembered the words of the three cats in this dream, and what Ravenwing had told him moons before: You're the terrible excuse for a ThunderClan cat with foxdung for honor.
"So why are you telling me, o sly little deputy?"
"I'm going to make ThunderClan the most powerful Clan of all. I'm not going to rule over the others, like that stupid old Flamestorm wanted—but I'll make the best warriors, and sooner or later, the other Clans will at least try not to anger us because they'll know we can always beat them."
"Saying that you're not Flamestorm doesn't mean it's true, Dawncloud. What are you saying? Feeling great because our leader is dying? That's betraying us right there."
"Us? I came here to tell you that I'm going to pick you for deputy!"
His belly twisted with excitement, anger, and confusion. "Are you nuts? Making the cripple deputy isn't going to make them fear ThunderClan; they're going to mock us!"
There was a slow, evil grin on Dawncloud's face. "You have no idea what you're talking about, brother. You know, Rowanheart's still scared of you; he tells us sometimes of what he did to you. I could have killed him right then and there, but then I'd never become leader. The point is, your leg doesn't matter! Even a crippled warrior may inspire fear, if that warrior is you. You were a warrior about four moons before the other cats, and they saw you in the daylight Gathering. It's all about reputation."
"This plotting makes me curious, Dawncloud. Tell me, dear sister, was Stormclaw's death really an accident?"
Dawncloud's eyes were wide, but he could tell there was no fear in them. "Stormclaw was a fool. He could be such a powerful leader but his stupid honor—"
"You know," he interrupted, "you're sounding a lot like Flamestorm."
Dawncloud pulled back her paw to slap his muzzle, but he blocked the blow with a paw. "I won't stop you from your little plans to take over the world. Just leave me out of it. Whatever you say about my reputation, I'm still the one with foxdung for honor, and I am in no state to kill the next cat who says it."
His sister narrowed her eyes, and marched furiously away. Now that's funny, he thought. I've actually done something right in my life.