Chapter 1:
Brightflame's POV
Brightflame's eyes snapped open. She was on the ground laying in her own pool of blood. It was still warm.
"Thank Starclan I wasn't out for too long." She muttered, staggering to her paws as cats continued to fight.
Stoneclan had started the fight at sunrise. Echoclan's dawn patrol was attack, and it just escalated from there. Stoneclaw was a crafty leader. It was almost like he read Echostar's mind and decided not to attack head on. The tom forced Echoclan to send in reinforcements or lose their clanmates to his own.
Brightflame whirled around and clawed an attacking she-cat, Oakpool she believed, across the muzzle, watching in satisfaction as she recoiled. Seizing the chance to take another enemy cat out of the fight, Brightflame leapt on top of the brown and white she-cat, raking her ears and shredding her pelt in the process. She howled in pain as warm blood dripped from the new wounds. She was preparing another blow when she was knocked away. Brightflame looked up to see Sleetfoot towering over her. She glared at the tom, good looking or not he was the one who knocked her out before.
"I thought I killed you," he mused. "I guess I underestimated you."
"I guess you did." She said smoothly, locking eyes with him.
"You look awfully calm for a cat who's about to die."
"Finish the job. You have a war to fight, don't you?"
"I like to play a little before I-" Sleetfoot was cut off by Leafcloud, who head butted him in the ribs, freeing her sister.
"Leafcloud!" Brightflame cried, running to help her get rid of the Stoneclan tom.
"I've got him, go find Stoneclaw! It's the only way to end the battle!" Leafcloud demanded, raking Sleetfoot's shoulder.
Brightflame nodded, running away from Leafcloud. She couldn't fight Stoneclaw. Brightflame vowed that after Ryeheart was born she would never even look at him ever again. Brightflame stiffened when she heard a snarl. She turned around to see Raintail, Stoneclan's deputy, bleeding heavily and wincing, but still baring her yellowed fangs at the blood-stained white cat. Raintail leapt. Brightflame ran underneath the black she-cat and stopped where Raintail had stood moments before.
"You weren't supposed to move." She growled, running straight at Brightflame.
Brightflame didn't run this time; merely side stepping her and raking her flank. Raintail screamed in pain, her pupils dilating. Brightflame yowled in aggression, moving behind her and snapping at her tail, growling in satisfaction when she tasted the coppery taste of blood. Raintail yowled again, ripping free of Brightflame and running.
"Some deputy." She muttered, looking for another cat to fight.
"Don't insult my sister!" Ivyheart, a former Shadowclan warrior screeched, slamming into Brightflame. Brightflame hissed in surprise, getting to her paws only to get knocked back down by Ivyheart.
"I don't care if Stoneclaw said not to lay a claw on you," she snarled. "I'm killing you."
Her amber eyes widened in fear as Ivyheart rose a paw and struck her head. The first blow only fazed her. It was the second that knocked her out. Again.
XXX
Stoneclaw's POV
Stoneclaw watched happily from the safety of the marsh, a second wave of Stoneclan cats behind him. This battle had been put off for so long. Each clan was nearly four moons old now; and he hadn't seen Brightflame since the gathering that he threatened Echoclan. Echostar didn't bring her clan to the island for meetings anymore, so for three moons his clan had been isolated as they trained to maim and kill.
In that time, he'd gone to the moon pool to ask for his nine lives. Starclan denied him, saying that unless he won and combined the two clans, he would never be Stonestar.
He stared at the moorland at the brawling cats once more. Was she out there? Was she fighting? Was she even still alive at this point?
He shook his head. I specifically instructed my warriors to let her alone. They wouldn't dare disobey me. Stoneclaw told himself, settling comfortably onto his haunches.
He knew his daughter was out there too, but he didn't care about her. That she-cat was too far gone, she would never obey him as a leader or love him like a daughter would usually love her father. At gatherings she would stick closely to Brightflame and Mossleaf and leer at him if he got close. Ryeheart hated him, so why should he care if she died? In fact, he was secretly hoping she would so Brightflame could focus on what was really important: him.
Stoneclaw knew when his next litter came, they'd have a father figure to look up at and idolize. That had been Ryeheart's problem; she had no one but soft Brightflame for a role model. It was a matter of fact that the white she-cat was soft. She believed in mercy and loyalty.
Well at least that's what she told me. She lied though; she's not loyal. Brightflame left me. He thought scornfully. No matter, after this battle's over she'll be loyal to me again, forever. She won't dare leave my side ever again.
XXX
Brightflame's POV
Brightflame walked through the plains of Windclan territory, wondering why she wasn't in Thunderclan territory.
The battle had killed her, hadn't it? She remembered it vaguely; the howls and screeches; the pain.
"Hello?" She asked.
"Brightflame." A voice greeted her.
The white she-cat turned to see Ryeheart padding towards her.
Her eyes widen. "No… Ryeheart you can't be dead too-"
"Dear mother, you are not dead." Ryeheart said smoothly, her voice sweet like honey.
"Then you aren't either, right?"
Ryeheart shook her head sadly, "Dogtooth of Shadowclan took my life, but I also took his. We're even."
Brightflame's amber eyes flooded with sorrow and a sudden hatred. "You were my last kit, I… I don't know what to say."
"Please don't grieve. Even the loveliest and most beautiful things must die." She said, beginning to stride through the tall grasses.
Brightflame followed. Ryeheart stopped and gently nosed at a daisy bush, singling out a withered flower. The white she-cat stared at the flower in confusion.
"It's just what happens though, what's so horrible about a dying flower?" Brightflame asked, sneezing as some pollen flew into her nose.
She observed the blackening petals for a moment before her daughter responded. The gray she-cat merely purred. She had her father's purr. It was still a little unsettling.
"Nothing great can last, Mother. Even the brightest of flames die."