Forgot to put a disclaimer in the last chapter. My bad! I don't own anything. Zip. Nada. Nothing. If I did, the series from Darkest Hour on would be completely different. Not so goddamn stupid.

Mally and Thalia: Firestar's going to have an... interesting expirience in this story. That's about all I can say.

It was sunset, Firestar's least favorite time of the day. He hated to watch the light die from the sky, watch the fire of the sun be swallowed by the earth. Sunset was a time of ending and a time of death. Firestar didn't like that at all. He nodded to Whitestorm, his deputy, who sat with Graystripe near the mouth of the camp and discussed hunting and patrols. In his mouth, Firestar carried four different colored flowers and, after nodding to Whitestorm and Graystripe, padded over to the Medicine Cat den and poked his head in.

"Cinderpelt, are you in here?" His voice was muffled by the flowers.

Firestar dropped a small batch of flowers onto the ground of the Medicine Cat den. The den that had once belonged to Spottedleaf, and then to Yellowfang. Both cats very important to him. And now it belonged to Cinderpelt, his former apprentice and another very good friend. Cinderpelt poked her head out of the back of the den, her blue eyes bright.

"I'll be with you in a moment, Firestar." She turned back to whatever she was doing and a minute later Dovekit bounded out of the back, mewed a greeting to Firestar, and bounced out of the den. Cinderpelt followed shortly after, smiling slightly.

"She's full of energy and very quick to learn," she said, "And is especially good with herbs."

"An apprentice for you?" Firestar smiled.

"I wouldn't mention it unless I thought she was perfect for it." Cinderpelt laughed, "She and her siblings went out with Willowpelt this morning to look for herbs. She has an excellent eye for them. I'm surprised at how much they brought back. Even things I didn't describe to her she found for me."

"The sign of a Medicine Cat," Firestar chuckled. Whitestorm and Willowpelt had had a second litter together, surprising many of the cats who thought that Willowpelt was too old to have another litter. But the strong she-cat had pulled through with three healthy kits and did not have trouble caring for them. He remembered Speckletail's last kit, Snowkit, who had been both deaf and small and had been killed by a bird. He was half expecting these kits to be at least small and weak, but all three had survived and grown strong, and it was nearly time for their apprentice ceremony. He would have to decide on their mentors later.

"What did you bring me? Daisies?" Cinderpelt pawed at the flowers Firestar had brought her, "I don't think I can use daisies for anything, at least nothing I've been taught. And I've never seen daisies of these colors before. Where did you find them?"

Firestar looked down at the flowers. They were all the same shape and size, but each was a different color. One white, one black, one ash-gray, and the last blood-red. He pawed at them nervously.

"Actually, Cinderpelt, I didn't quite find them." He looked up to her and Cinderpelt's mouth tightened, "She showed them to me."

Firestar froze.

The forest was around him was still – no, it was silent. No wind to rustle the trees and leaves, no tittering of birds high and safe in the canopy. Scents seemed to have drained from the area, leaving only the stark, dry scent of dust. And the light scent of singed fur.

"Burntfur," he said quietly. He knew she was there. She always came to him at these times. When the forest was silent. When the scents were gone. When he was alone and contemplating the worst things in life. Alone hunting, alone patrolling, alone washing his ears, it didn't matter to her. He was always alone. And she always came. As if summoned, the smoky she-cat stepped from behind a tree, enormous green eyes dim and unblinking. Behind her, no through her, he could see the patterns of a holly bush and the faint outline of a group of ferns. He had never touched her in the full four seasons she had been appearing to him, but it seemed as if he could just pass a paw through her and she would break apart. Somehow he knew that he was wrong.

He didn't even know if she should be called 'Burntfur,' it was something that he and Cinderpelt had started to call her subconsciously. But there was no mistaking that acrid smell of burned fur when she arrived, and she never seemed to dismiss it as her name, so it stuck, and when he called to her in times like these, she came.

As always, Burntfur said nothing after staring at Firestar for several long seconds. Instead she turned back where she had come from. Unhurriedly, Firestar followed her. Around the tree he had just enough time to see her smoky tail vanish behind a rock before the forest came to life again. Birds began to twitter above him, a fresh breeze rolled through the forest, scents flooded back to his nose. Scents of the forest, with only the slightest hint of burnt fur in them. Firestar rounded the rock he had seen Burntfur's tail vanish behind and stopped short. Just as before, she had led him to something.

And just as before, the sight was both beautiful and nerve-wracking.

A single plant bloomed in a small pool of sunlight beside the rock, four different flower buds waving at him as he came closer and sniffed them. They smelled no different than the average flower, if anything a little more strongly, but it was the color that astounded Firestar the most. Four different flowers of four different colors. One snow-white, one ash-gray, one night-black, and one blood-red. He pawed at the flowers to see if they were actually four different ones, but saw they connected high above the roots and entered the ground together. Firestar snorted, it was impossible! Who ever heard of a plant with four different colored flowers, and flowers this starkly different?

Firestar sniffed the air again but caught no more scent of Burntfur. He slowly bent his head and pulled at the flower, plucking it. He would need to show this to Cinderpelt. Just as he had shown her all of the others.

"Burntfur led me to the flowers," Firestar said quietly. Cinderpelt's eyes widened and she quickly dropped the poppy head she was working with. She padded closer to the flowers and sniffed them, then pawed at them. Firestar had accidentally bitten though the stems, but it was easy to see where the flowers had been connected to the main stalk. Cinderpelt sat back, eyes narrowed, and shook her head.

"There's nothing I can say about this, Firestar. It's just like the others."

"I know. But I don't know what to do with it, or any of the other things she keeps showing me."

Burntfur was coming to Firestar almost once a moon now. The last time she had lead him to Snakerocks, where he discovered the largest snake he had ever seen. It was dead, and lodged in its mouth was an enormous white crystal. Four bulbous tumors had been growing on its head, and one had burst. When Firestar had gone back the next day, the snake and the rock had vanished. Another time she had lead him to the border with RiverClan, and during the sunset the water sparkled in four different colors. But the next day when he went back to see if the colors would come again, the river remained gray and white. As far as he knew, the phenomenon had never happened again.

"I don't know what to tell you, Firestar. I never know what to tell you anymore."

"I know, I know. But who else can I share this with?"

"Your deputy, for one, or your best friend." Cinderpelt sniffed.

"Neither receives signs from StarClan and you know it. You're a Medicine Cat; you're supposed to be able to know what to do for these kinds of things."

"And you're a Leader, so are you. If you're so concerned about Burntfur, why haven't you gone to the Moonstone all these moons?"

"You know we've been busy with the new apprentices and the newleaf was late this year and the skirmish with ShadowClan-"

Cinderpelt gave him a hard look.

"I'll go in a moon when the apprentices can come-"

Her eyes narrowed.

"I haven't had time-"

"That's a heap of foxdung, Firestar, and you know it. Why don't you want to speak with StarClan?"

Firestar shifted under her harsh blue eyes and then lowered his eyes.

"Because I don't think StarClan will know what to do about this." He said finally, "And if they had something to say about it, why haven't they sent a sign to me to come?"

"And four-colored flowers and ghost cats appearing to you aren't sign enough?"

"No, no, they are but… they aren't. I can't explain it, Cinderpelt. All I know if that Burntfur has nothing to do with StarClan. The things she's showing me… she's not involved with them in any way."

Cinderpelt sat back, still looking at Firestar hard, then sighed and turned away, "Very well. Put it off for another moon and bring the new apprentices. But I'm not letting you back out of it. We're going, whether you like it or not."

Firestar lowered his head like a kit being scolded, "Of course, Cinderpelt, I won't back out on you."

"Good. Now get out of my den. I have a lot of organizing to do and you need to decide on mentors for those kits tonight."

"Of course, Cinderpelt. Have a good evening."

"You too, Firestar. And sleep well."

When Firestar was back in his den it didn't take long for him to decide that Whitestorm would mentor his son, Snakekit, and Dustpelt would mentor the other female kit, Icekit. Dovekit would go to Cinderpelt, of course. He had considered giving Snakekit to Brambleclaw as his first apprentice but… Brambleclaw could wait. He could let him mentor one of Ferncloud's kits in a few moons. He was a young warrior, and Dustpelt didn't get his first apprentice until he was older than Brambleclaw. At least, Firestar thought so. He licked a claw thoughtfully and settled down for sleep.

Fire.

Why was fire always in his dreams now? The blazing forest, the singed fur and whiskers, the smell of burnt dirt and trees and bodies…

He ran though the fire, the dream-fire, which seemed to be so real that he could feel it licking up and down his pelt, and the stinging sensation of being burned alive. The trees seemed to waver as he ran past them, like he was making ripples in the liquid of existence with every movement, with every thought. The ground heaved below him and cracked, sending a shower of spark up in front of him. He kept running, and leaped through them.

Smoke burned his lungs, he felt his paws crack and bleed and cauterize on the steaming ground. It shook again, and he leapt to the side as a jagged rock thrust up from the ground and collided with a tree in an explosion of wood and fire. Splinters caught in his pelt and burned him, but he kept running. Strangely, he wasn't afraid. And why should he be? He was the fire that would save the Clans, the heat of fire to defend his Clan and the light of it to guide his way. Fire was his to control, it couldn't kill him, it could only make him stronger.

"Firestar!"

Firestar skidded to a halt and turned. Had he just heard that?

"Firestar!"

Yes, again. Firestar turned and began charging into the fire again, towards the calling voice, that voice which was so familiar, which he hadn't heart in so, so long…

"Firestar!"

It was Sandstorm. Her pale ginger fur looked tan against the fire, and her fur was crusted in black, but there was no mistaking that voice, or those neat ears, or those beautiful, beautiful green eyes. She ran towards him and pressed her muzzle against his and he breathed in her sweet, sweet scent, mixed with the metallic tang of fire and the acrid sting of burnt fur… She pulled away, her eyes large and full of fear.

"You have to come to the Moonstone," she shouted over the roar of the fire, "Come to the Moonstone, now!"

The fire was beginning to close in on them now. A tree crashed to his left and Sandstorm winced. She turned and shied closer to him.

"You have to come," she said, "Come now. Come right now!"

And then Sandstorm ran, running through the fire. Firestar tried to call after her, but his lungs weren't working properly. He stumbled and fell, choking, foaming at the mouth and rolling across the floor of a forest on fire… Why was Sandstorm leaving him? Where was she going? Sandstorm? Sandstorm?

"Sandstorm!"

Firestar woke cold and wet. The moon was full outside and sent faint light into his den. He rose shakily and exited his den. He felt oddly light, like each one of his veins and arteries were made of air and filled with clouds rather than blood. He crossed the camp and into the Medicine Cat den, and was surprised to hear two quiet voices inside.

"I'm sorry again about waking you so late," said Whitestorm, pawing at a poppy head to loosen some seeds, "I've been having trouble sleeping lately though. I'm stiffer than I'm used to be."

"Don't take those," Firestar said when he poked his head into Medicine Cat den, "Cinderpelt and I are leaving, and you're in charge of the camp."

"Excuse me?" Cinderpelt said.

"You got what you wanted. We're leaving for the Moonstone right now."

Jarba Jarba Jarba. I'd like feedback. And I'd like for people to catch my little grammar and spelling mistakes. I go through the chapters, but I always miss some things. I guess it's just my curse. -sigh-