Hi guys! The next chapter's up already, like I promised. It's a nice long one to make up for the short prologue. Set before the time of Firestar and the others.

Chapter 1

Mist was descending from the river upstream, rolling towards the undergrowth in waves of pearly white. Heronkit could see the long, thin silhouettes of the reeds ahead of her, and the river beyond made her breath catch in her throat. It felt like a dream – like she had entered StarClan. The black river flowed swiftly, silently. Normal shapes of branches and rocks were distorted in the mist. Everything looked unearthly, ethereal.

RiverClan must live across that river, Heronkit thought. Excitement rushed through her and she bounded between piles of smooth rocks, warmed by the early morning sun. Is this Sunningrocks? she wondered.

Heronkit was doing something forbidden. But it was the fact that none of this was allowed that made it so enjoyable. Adrenaline pumped through her. Her senses grew sharper. The little kit fluffed out her black and white fur. The rocks were warm against her flanks, the ground soft and spongy underpaw, the air tasted heavy with moisture and growing plants. Her legs were starting to ache from walking so far from camp and creeping away from her Clan, but she didn't care. Her heart was pounding. At any moment, she could be discovered. The fur on the back of Heronkit's neck was prickling. But she wanted to see a RiverClan warrior. Where were they all? The river is where they fish – why weren't they there on the banks?

Heronkit weaved her way past Sunningrocks and came towards the slippery grass of the sloping bank. Water lapped at the sandy mud further down. The mist was heavier now, and it blanketed Heronkit's surroundings. A chill was in the air – the morning newleaf sun hadn't yet burned off all the cold fog from the night. Heronkit felt a shiver run through her. She peered down at the blue-black water, trying to spot a fish.

A noise suddenly split the quiet morning air. It was a piercing, bird-like screech, but it wasn't like any normal bird. A dark shape suddenly materialized out of the mist. Heronkit gasped, surprise shooting through her. A winged creature loomed in front of her for a split second. It was massive, with black, white and grey feathers, and a long beak and feet. Then it flapped its huge wings – each one three times longer than Heronkit's body – and rose up into the sky.

Heronkit had been thrown onto her back by the rush of air as the strange bird flew past. Her whole body trembling like a limp leaf, she staggered to her paws. Her lungs felt flattened and her heart was thumping. She stood with her claws sank into the ground, trying to get her breath back.

"Heronkit!" a sharp meow sounded from somewhere behind her. Heronkit turned to see a familiar face, a cat striding towards her.

"Nettlefur!" she gasped in relief, her voice weak and croaky. "What was that... that thing?"

"What, the bird?" the older warrior meowed. "Just a heron. They hunt for fish in the river. You should know that. They are your namesake, after all." Then the warrior's green eyes flashed. Her spiky fur, dappled with faint tortoiseshell markings but also striped like a tabby's pelt, bristled even more until she looked like a hedgehog. "What in the name of StarClan are you doing out here? You're a kit! Kits aren't allowed outside camp! I can't believe you had the nerve and the audacity to even attempt it!"

Kits were drilled with the warrior code as soon as they were old enough to leave the nursery. Rules were strict. Heronkit felt that there was a huge lecture coming along – she could almost see it building up inside the warrior. She vaguely decided she didn't like Nettlefur much. The she-cat was leading Heronkit back towards camp.

"Heronkit, your mother is going to be so ashamed and angry with you. You're the deputy's daughter! You're supposed to be setting an example!"

Heronkit stifled a groan. Not the parent attack! How many times had she heard this? Nettlefur was so predictable.

"I'm a kit," she muttered. At the last minute she realised how cheeky her words must sound and lowered her voice so the sentence came out quietly.

Nettlefur didn't look at her; her gaze was still fixed on the path ahead of them. Her tail flicked. "Not for long you won't be."

"What?" Heronkit stopped dead. What did I just hear? "Nettlefur?"

The warrior glanced back at the kit. "Hurry up!" she snapped. "I was sent to fetch you back, and I'm not just going to stand around answering your questions! Vinestrike will be waiting for you." And she set off before Heronkit could speak again, her long legs making easy work of the difficult scramble through the forest.

By the time the two cats arrived, Heronkit was breathless and her legs were aching again. She didn't even realise they were at the camp until Nettlefur disappeared between two unassuming thorn bushes. The thicket of barbed plants turned out to be the outside of the barrier that surrounded the camp, and there was a sloping tunnel of sandy earth that led down to the ravine where ThunderClan's camp was.

Heronkit followed Nettlefur into the camp. As the warrior had predicted, Vinestrike was stood waiting for them. Her blue eyes flashed when she caught sight of her daughter.

"Heronkit! What do you think you're doing?" Vinestrike hissed. "Sneaking away from camp? This isn't how apprentices behave!"

Apprentice? That was twice apprenticeship had been mentioned.

"Am I going to be an apprentice?" Heronkit whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

Vinestrike hesitated, glancing at Nettlefur. The younger warrior shrugged at the deputy. "I have a good mind to suspend your apprenticeship," the fierce warrior queen growled. "But Tanglestar has said for your challenge to be today."

"But I'm only three moons old!" Heronkit piped up, confused. "Jaycloud told me that kits were apprenticed at six moons."

Vinestrike stiffened. Danger flared in her eyes. "Jaycloud is an elder. Things were run very differently when Jaycloud was a young warrior, before Tanglestar became leader."

"Why? Why did Tanglestar change everything?" Heronkit surprised herself with her own nerve. Vinestrike obviously didn't like this subject.

"It wasn't just Tanglestar – it was all four leaders," Vinestrike meowed stiffly. "And the rules were changed to make the Clans better, to improve the system. Now stop asking me questions and go to sleep." Her eyes flickered to Heronkit's legs, which were shaking with fatigue after the long walk. "If you want to stand a chance in the assessment, you'll have to get your energy back."

Heronkit took her cue, glad to get away from her angry mother. She was relieved she'd gotten off so lightly, with only one lecture burning her ears instead of two. Maybe Vinestrike had known Nettlefur would've told her off enough on the way back, anyway. Heronkit dived into the concealing bramble nursery, wanting to sleep before she could get punished again. The light was dim but she could make out her brother, Pinekit, and the queen who was fostering the two siblings – Whitefoot.

Whitefoot blinked her soft green eyes at Heronkit. "I'm so glad you're all right, Heronkit," she whispered gently. "Now get some sleep. You chose a fine day to disobey the rules," the queen added sarcastically, "you need energy now more than ever."

Heronkit yawned in reply, feeling tiredness wash through her in waves. She sank down beside Pinekit and fell almost instantly into sleep.

When she next woke, the sun was high in the sky and it was to see Pinekit stood over her with a mouse clasped in his small jaws.

"Hey, Heronkit, I bet you're hungry," her brother mumbled.

"Starving!" Heronkit yawned, stretching her rested limbs. Pinekit settled down beside her and the two kits demolished the mouse with their powerful teeth.

"Hey, Pinekit, I'm sorry I left you and just ran out on my own," Heronkit mewed apologetically.

The black kit snorted. "Don't be. Rather you than me!" he grinned at her. "You're the one in trouble, so I don't see why you should be sorry."

"Kits," Whitefoot mewed, entering the nursery again. "It's almost time." She looked worried. The gentle queen curled around the kits and washed their fur clean with rough licks. Heronkit relaxed against Whitefoot's soft fur.

Sometimes Whitefoot felt like more of a mother to the kits than Vinestrike did. They had to have had a foster mother because Vinestrike was busy with her deputy duties and, after the kitting, had got back to being a warrior as soon as she could stand upright again. Whitefoot was more gentle and loving than Vinestrike, anyway, so the kits didn't mind that much.

"What's the test we have to face, Whitefoot?" Pinekit mewed. Heronkit felt the stirrings of worry. She hadn't given much thought to the challenge, but she knew they had to pass it to become apprentices. The challenge was kept a secret from the kits. It was meant to show if they were worthy to be an apprentice. All four Clans did the same, ever since the leaders changed the rules.

Whitefoot stiffened. "You'll... you'll see later. But it involves all five of you kits."

"So we'll be taking the assessment with Jumpkit, Owlkit and Hawkkit, too?" Heronkit mewed. The other three kits in the nursery were a bit older than herself and Pinekit.

"What happens if we don't pass?" Pinekit chirped. He looked pretty laid-back, certain he would make it. Heronkit, however, felt anxiety twisting her stomach.

Whitefoot didn't reply, and there was a long silence before Ratclaw, one of the younger warriors, entered the nursery and told them it was time.

Whitefoot followed the two littermates as they left the nursery. The Clan was gathered around the centre of the clearing, and Heronkit's legs felt wobbly as they neared the strong, proud warriors who turned their eyes on her. She was glad of Pinekit beside her, keeping her company.

"Come, kits," rumbled the deep voice of Tanglestar. The warriors parted to let them through into the centre of the camp, where they joined Hawkkit, Jumpkit and Owlkit. The three tabby toms nodded at the arrivals, their eyes wide with nervousness.

Tanglestar was stood in front of them with Vinestrike at his side. Heronkit was in awe of her leader. He was huge, with a dark coat of long, tangled fur and large amber eyes. She had never been this close to him before. She tried to stop herself from trembling, or shrinking against Pinekit.

"Today will mark the ceremony of our newest apprentices," Tanglestar's voice rang out clearly through the camp. "But to be accepted fully into the ranks of ThunderClan, there is a challenge that awaits them. Not all of you will pass. In this challenge, you will have to prove yourself worthy of being a ThunderClan cat."

His broad head swung towards his deputy, and it was Vinestrike who continued the speech. "The challenge will introduce you to the harshest of penalties Clan punishments have to offer. Your loyalty to us will earn you rewards and status within the Clan; breaking the rules, or betraying ThunderClan in any way, will provoke punishment. The most severe of these is death."

Death. The kits were as silent as ghosts. Their short legs trembled as a breeze ruffled the cats' pelts. Heronkit's heart began to pound, and fear bubbled in the pit of her stomach. What's going to happen to us? What will we have to do? Until now, she'd thought of the challenge as something like the apprentices' assessments – go out, catch some prey, have a battle training competition, something like that. But this seemed much harsher.

Vinestrike's gaze swept past the kits. Her words were emotionless as she meowed, "Your challenge is to fight. You must fight one another... to the death. The last few cats standing will be apprentices."

Heronkit couldn't believe it. She heard the words, but she couldn't take it in. She couldn't bear to look beside her, where Pinekit was stood. She felt her own shock reflected in the movements of all the others stood in a line on either side of her.

Tanglestar and Vinestrike stepped back until they were stood among the crowd. The cats of the Clan were positioned in a circle around the kits. There was no escape. Heronkit raised her gaze to Pinekit.

"I can't fight you," she whispered desperately, her voice reaching only his ears. Pinekit's eyes were stretched wide as suns. He looked terrified.

"You may begin," Vinestrike meowed.

Heronkit felt a few seconds of doubt. What if none of the kits fought each other? What if they all stood, shivering, refusing to fight? Pinekit was still stood, motionless, in front of her.

But then Heronkit felt a heavy weight on her back, and she was bowled over. Instantly the need to survive kicked in. I'm going to get killed! Claws unsheathed, she lashed out blindly, trying to dislodge the weight that was pressing her chin to the floor. She felt her paws hit something, and she managed to shake her attacker off. As she scrambled to her paws she saw it was Owlkit, his familiar amber eyes wide and glaring.

At the sight of her denmate's face, Heronkit felt ashamed of herself for scratching him. She opened her jaws to say something, but then Owlkit leapt to his paws and barrelled into her. Is my denmate actually trying to kill me? For some reason, she couldn't believe it. How could Tanglestar and Vinestrike have turned them so suddenly, so completely, against each other?

But then Owlkit's claws flashed in front of her, and she felt pain explode in one cheek. Heronkit gasped, but instead of staggering backwards she felt herself lunging, claws outstretched. Owlkit met her head-on and the two kits tussled, writhing on the sandy floor. Heronkit sank her teeth into Owlkit's tail. Maybe now he'll stop attacking me, she thought.

But as Owlkit yowled in pain, Heronkit felt something sharp swiping at one of her flanks. She turned, blood dripping down her cheek wound, half-blinded with pain, to face Hawkkit. Hawkkit leaped at her, his teeth aiming for her face, but Heronkit dived underneath him and swiped at his belly. He yowled and did a strange little leap to avoid her.

Heronkit looked around. Pinekit and Owlkit were locked in a whirl of claws. Hawkkit, who was facing her again, was joined by Jumpkit. Heronkit saw the two toms, who she'd played a harmless game of moss ball with only yesterday, and felt a deep sorrow inside her. She lashed out blindly, not looking at whatever her claws were doing, not wanting to see who was attacking her.

They were denmates. Not enemies. Heronkit fought with teeth and claws, and she felt claws scratching at her pelt and bodies slamming against her. After a while, she merely collapsed on the floor and lay there, with her head pressed into the blood-streaked earth. No-one challenged her. They must have been fighting amongst themselves.

Heronkit dragged herself to her paws, and when she did she felt shocked. Owlkit was in front of her. His eyes were open wide, but his body was rigid and his stare was blank. He was dead.

Stifling a yowl, Heronkit staggered backwards, feeling pain tugging at her heart. Then something smashed into her, and she found herself lying flat on her back. Her attacker stood over her, pinning her down. She took in black fur, bared teeth, a frightening green gaze. Pinekit!

"Pinekit! It's me!" she choked out, struggling feebly. "It's Heronkit!" This strange, vicious kit wasn't the Pinekit she knew.

For a second the kit paused, and then recognition flooded his gaze. "H-Heronkit?" he whispered. Heronkit was staring, horrified, at the blood on his claws and the gashes that streaked his flank.

"Go on. Do it," she croaked out. "One of us has to die, and I'd rather it'd be me than you."

Pinekit was frozen. Then Jumpkit suddenly crashed into them both, and the three kits were locked together. The instinct, the need to survive, rushed through Heronkit again and she felt blinded. She clawed at clumps of fur, snapping her teeth, wondering if Jumpkit had killed his remaining brother, Hawkkit. She felt one of the lumps of fur in front of her give way and she pinned it to the ground. I am stronger, she found herself thinking. A red mist clouded her vision. Everything was a blur. What was happening? What am I doing? Am I winning, or am I getting killed?

But then, suddenly, the bloodlust faded away. Her heart thumped. Heronkit stared at the body beneath her claws. No. No. This isn't happening. Pinekit's stare was empty, his mouth still open in a snarl, teeth still dripping with blood. With my blood.

"Pinekit," Heronkit whimpered, backing away. "Pinekit! No!" A yowl streamed from her jaws. She felt something pressing against her. She heard a voice.

"It's all right, Heronkit. You don't have to fight any more. It's okay." It sounded like Brownwhisker, the medicine cat. Heronkit felt a tongue brushing the fur on her head. She didn't know what was happening. Her heart was thudding, beating out the rhythm of the names of the dead kits. Pinekit, Owlkit, Pinekit, Owlkit... Were Jumpkit and Hawkkit dead as well? Heronkit couldn't bear it. She wanted to wail, to yowl again, but there was a lump in her throat. She couldn't breathe.

Then Brownwhisker stepped away from her, and she looked around. Jumpkit was stood motionless near her, his ears flat to his head. He must have killed Hawkkit.

Tanglestar stepped forwards, and said the words of the ceremony. Heronkit supposed she must now be called Heronpaw, and Jumpkit Jumppaw, but none of the words were making any impression on her. She kept her gaze fixed on Pinekit – a heap of unmoving black fur a few paces away.

I killed him! I killed my brother! I'm a monster! What have I done? Heronkit wanted to yowl to StarClan. I should be dead, not him!

"Heronpaw! Jumppaw! Heronpaw! Jumppaw!" the Clan cheered. Slowly, the words began to make sense. Heronpaw stared blindly around, and then caught Jumppaw's eye. He still looked bewildered. All Heronpaw could think was, we're both killers. We're murderers.

"Heronpaw?" a voice mewed softly. Heronpaw recognized that voice. Whitefoot. Suddenly, Heronpaw didn't want to face Whitefoot, the cat who loved her and her brother like they were her own. Didn't want to see the grief, the disappointment.

Heronpaw spied the opening in the wall of thorns that was the apprentices' den. She ran to it, wanting to be alone, to avoid all the eyes. She heard Jumppaw say her name, but she ignored him and threw herself into a clump of moss.

She buried her head in her nest, a sob rising in her throat, eyes squeezed shut. Finally, she was an apprentice. But it had come with a price. Yesterday, Heronpaw would've given anything to make her dream of being an apprentice come true. Now, she'd rather be the one lying on the blood-soaked soil.

Because the price had been too high. She had had to kill her own brother.

It starts off happy, but slowly gets darker... Hope you liked it, anyhow. :)