A/N: Oh my god, what the heck is with 's new look!? I'm lost! I couldn't even find out where to upload this chapter!

I wasn't joking, but fun put aside: This is the last chapter. If you don't understand Duskshadow's end, well... I don't know what to say. Vague, but as clear as I could put it. Anyways, thanks a lot for reading Honor and Glory all the way to the end! Your reviews helped me get here (even if I got really lazy in the uploading new chapters). Thanks a lot, whether you were a loyal fan or one-time reviewer! Love you all. - Rhaenira

Chapter 20 – Sanctuary

"Ravenwing!"

It was a curious feeling that racked his heart. Duskshadow had never felt it before—not when his sister betrayed him, nor when he lost his leg. Dawnstar had gone mad, and he had learned to cope with using three legs—but Ravenwing was another cat, someone he had grown close to in the moons after he fell from the Sky Oak. And he would never see her again; at least, not alive and breathing.

Everything came crashing down on him afterwards—the guilt of not having reacted earlier or intercepting her battle with Tiger. If only I was Duskpaw, he howled inwardly, then I would have rushed in, no questions asked!

But that wasn't true, either. Ravenwing, Stormclaw, even the small apprentices that he trained—they all were a part of who he was now. If he were Duskpaw, then he wouldn't have bothered rescuing a stubborn righteous one-eyed medicine cat.

That jolted him back to reality. Who would be ThunderClan's medicine cat? Ravenwing had no apprentice; with her gone, ThunderClan was left with no one to dress the wounds of the injured. It's all your fault, Duskshadow snarled silently, staring up at the sky. When you died, you made things ten times more difficult.

There was a voice in his ear, so clear and alive that Duskshadow flinched. "Think about it, Duskshadow. Who else has spent five moons in a medicine cat's den?" He turned, expecting a laughing Ravenwing. But his hopes were dashed again, as he gazed at her broken body.

So you want me to be a medicine cat, is it, StarClan? First it's leader, now it's medicine cat. Who'll lead ThunderClan then?

Duskshadow blinked. Rowanheart was talking to him, but he had zoned out. "I'm really sorry about that," the brown cat muttered. "I was just—I wanted to be you, Duskshadow, back when we were apprentices. Sorry 'bout your leg."

A confession, coming from him? The world must have flipped on its head. "Doesn't matter," he heard himself reply. "Even with four legs, I don't think I could have saved her." Once he said it, it sounded even more like his fault. Get it together! He shook himself. "ThunderClan, we're going back home." The rogues were still in the camp; they were frozen in fear of having witnessed the sight of their leader losing nine lives.

The warriors followed him willingly, some limping and bleeding from cuts. It reminded him of ThunderClan's need for a medicine cat. Duskshadow grabbed Ravenwing's body from her scruff and proceeded to lead ThunderClan to its camp. Before he could exit the camp, however, the leader of RiverClan stopped him.

Duskshadow set down his burden gently and mewed, "Thank you for coming with ShadowClan today, Silverstar."

Silverstar shook her head. "Thank your medicine cat. I would never have come, if not for her. Hers is a rare soul, to give up the life of a warrior to become a medicine cat. Even with one eye, I saw how she held her own with Dawnstar." Her words were slightly reassuring, but it did nothing to fill the hole where his heart would have been.

ThunderClan dejectedly trotted to their camp—Duskshadow was limping again. The speed and excitement of battle left him; he felt as if he had two legs instead of three. At camp, Duskshadow was about to head to the medicine cat's den to sleep for another moon, when he noticed something. The cats weren't going into their dens—they were waiting, beneath the Highledge, as if waiting for an announcement from Foxstar. What's more, they were all looking at him with questioning eyes. He could read some of them: "Will you be our leader, Duskshadow?" Even some murmurs rose from the crowd; the only name he heard from the whispers was Duskshadow.

Leader of ThunderClan. Sure, he would have to spend time with other cats, planning out battle strategies, and overall, watching over the Clan—which was the last thing he wanted. But looking at the expectant and proud gazes of the apprentices that he had trained for such small time, he knew that leading wasn't all that a leader could do. Duskshadow tasted the prospect. He wouldn't have to obey any other cat's orders regarding ThunderClan. He could follow Stormclaw, and put Flamestorm's madness behind.

To give up the life of a warrior to become a medicine cat. Silverstar's words echoed within him. ThunderClan needed a medicine cat more than a leader, at this point. But then who would be leader? Who was even remotely close to being ready, besides him?

Before he could stop himself, his paws carried him to the top of the Highledge. He looked down upon the Clan, waiting for his decision. I've looked down upon cats for far too long, he decided, as he meowed quietly, "I'm going to take Ravenwing's place as medicine cat."

The cats were silent as the news sank in. Then Sootpaw cried out, "Then who'll be our leader? You're the—" Duskshadow silenced her with a cold look. No. Stormclaw was, not me.

"Then who'll be our leader?" Sootpaw repeated.

"Pick anyone you feel like." Duskshadow shrugged. "Just so it's not me."

Just as he turned, there was a disturbance in the crowd of cats as Rowanheart shouldered his way to the front. He prowled angrily towards Duskshadow, and snarled, "You think we fought the rogues for nothing? You're our deputy! Without a good leader, ThunderClan's going to fall apart anyways! What right do you have to turn your back on your Clan—"

His anger got the better of him. "You think I want this?" Duskshadow raged, whirling back to Rowanheart. The other cat stood his ground, glaring. Remembering Rowanheart's confession, Duskshadow softened his voice. "I owe it to Ravenwing."

Rowanheart was not the clueless apprentice anymore; he caught on Duskshadow's words immediately. "Then you—you're going to—"

Without waiting for him to finish, Duskshadow headed towards the camp entrance. The silent cats watched his tail disappear into the thorn barrier. They did nothing, but wait.

They waited a long time.

Epilogue

"Duskshadow! Duskshadow, I have a thorn in my paw!"

The small black bundle of fur rammed into him as Duskshadow was exiting the den. "Ravenpaw, when will you learn to stop playing around the thorn barrier!" he scolded gently. Even when he scolded her, the young energetic apprentice never seemed to take it very seriously—and lifted her paw expectantly. The dark golden tom quickly pulled the thorn out of her paw and spat it onto the ground. "All I taste these days are mice and your wounds," he complained. "Shouldn't you return to training?"

If there was one thing Ravenpaw loved more than annoying him, it was battle training. "Oh yeah! Thanks, Duskshadow!" Her blue eyes, both clearly seeing, sparkled mischievously as she darted away again. Looking at her, so full of energy, he felt the wonderful feeling that this was truly a sanctuary--ThunderClan's peaceful hollow, the excitement of the apprentices, and the gruff seriousness of the warriors.

He remembered Rowanstar's words, as Duskshadow gazed upon the leader's kits. Foxkit, Stormkit, and Ravenkit, Rowanstar had meowed proudly. They do resemble their namesakes, don't they? And they had, in ways more than one. Stormpaw was the quiet rule-stickler, never romping with the others any more than he had to. Foxpaw was ambitious, always determined to stay at the front of the pack. And Ravenpaw…

Duskshadow remembered the day Ravenpaw, as a kitten, had come up to him and asked quietly if she could become his medicine cat's apprentice. And just as quietly he refused. You're destined to become a warrior, he told her, not unkindly. StarClan has laid another path for you.