Silent Whispers Chapter 4 - Courage, a warriors fanfic

Susan Gale

Sometimes you don't realize your own strength until you come face to face with your greatest weakness.

...

Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.

C. S. Lewis

Chapter 4 - Courage

To posses courage is not to be completely free of fear, but to be free of the bondage fear brings. When all around you tests and trials practice what you happen to be afraid of, you choose to face it, to stand up against it in bravery. That shows true courage.

So, from the sky overhead we are instructed that we must have great bravery, because there is nothing to be afraid of as long as we have that assurance of protection. That swath of stars that collects high in the sky (don't you know of it?) will never leave, not even in daybreak and will fight all of our battles alongside us, for us.

But whether it be the fear of admitting to what we have done wrong, being truthful, or if it is anxiety of what lies ahead, what shall become of us or others – perhaps only standing against our evil perpetrators is that which weighs us down in dread.

Courage is not an act but a quiet strength we have within us that cannot really be taught – but it can be demonstrated through our actions and passed to others when they need it most.

You are not truly tried of your courage until you are to come to something that distress you, weakens you, makes you tremble at the very sound of that one fear.

One fear, I must warn you, can be your undoing. It is being destroyed by that fear, when rather you are trying to ignore it, by having it crumple you until you are unable to smooth yourself out from there.

If you do not stand in courage, stand against this evil in the world – well, then I must say there is little hope. Again, I must warn you, stand strong, take this to heart, and know that nothing is impossible with that one bright light inside your spirit. With that assurance of protection, and steadiness – with courage – not one thing can bring you down in the end. Not one thing.

...

What To Look For When In Need

My legs are shaking now. My heartbeat is thumping all over – through my ears, my paws, all over. I can't keep my veins from it's seemingly throbbing pulse; I can't calm myself.

Keep it together.

Come on, Maskheart. What did Pebblebrook always tell you?

...

The hill from which the the two had rolled down now seemed more like a mountain they didn't dare climb; it only grew steeper and steeper the more they thought about how badly they wished to be out of the forest they had fallen into. Neither had enough nerve in them to even attempt with any effort. Even the one who seemed the braver of the two didn't hold up what shield she usually used to preserve her stature. If she wasn't as brave as she was in situations that were not truly disheartening, was she truly brave at all?

The truth was – sometimes – it was all an act, and now the frightening reality sucked all life from her, dried all hope, and left her armor with cracks that showed deeper ones – yet these ones had been there far longer, never visible.

Sometimes it was all a facade.

But sometimes, Maskheart realized there was a steadfastness, keeping her friend steadier with a bravery she never really felt she herself had.

Now, though, this was not the case. At least, that's not what it seemed to be.

Ravenfeather paced back and forth briskly in the open space, muttering words that were quite disturbing to hear from a mouth that was usually so positive. It tore her down; it consumed all air that was already still and made it suffocating. Was this what it was like inside the mind of the black she-cat? Was it too crowded in there, that she felt there was no more room to continue on by ladening the heavy truth?

"Oh no, Maskheart. I'm sorry. I did this. It's all my fault. If I wasn't acting like an arrogant, constantly distracting, arousing.." There was so much remorse, and blame, and a tone that told her Ravenfeather was ashamed of herself in that voice. It was choked with something that Maskheart had suspected was bottled inside her friend, but it had never really surfaced. How much did Maskheart really know Ravenfeather – all these moons she had never really seen this side, and the she-cat wasn't sure how she should react.

"..blue jay."

Currently realizing that it was her turn to play the role of optimism, Maskheart turned to face her and decided to speak with what little hope she could muster, "Look, perhaps there is a way back up there.." She trailed off, searching for a response as the feathery creature's head hung low the whole time. The statement hung out there vainly; it was half-hearted, but she did try anyway.

The black - and - white she-cat let her eyes stray, a little worry gleaming in them from her point of view. Maskheart now realized things she didn't, observed her surroundings, tried to formulate a plan. But the hill – or drop really – was draping deeply off the edge of the higher forest floor of her home – more like a plateau. Above that, it bordered that whole side in front of her until nothing was visible beyond the trees on either side marking a deeper forest within. It just slid down into of something no one could possibly know of.

She was afraid. She was afraid of the unknown.

Things seemed, at the least, hopeless.

Did she forget her faith – forget everything she was taught to believe in? In and of herself, it was hopeless.

But the look the black she-cat gave her friend seemed to bring something from behind the sorrow they showed, something Maskheart couldn't really relate to. As it functioned almost automatically, this something seemed to be pulled – dragged out from behind the jaded fragments of her eyes, attracted like a magnet. Now her face was not as softly curved as it was moments ago, it was subtly chiseled into a frown, only slightly. "Are you mentally ill? We nearly killed ourselves tumbling down that hill; I'm not giving gravity another go at it. And from here, I don't see another way around this."

A freezing feeling melding Maskheart's paws into stone of ice brought her back to the reality she was in, not the one she usually made up in her mind. Oh.

Not that observant, really. The poor creature wasn't aware she was still standing in a shallow pool, the one the two tumbled into.

Ravenfeather couldn't bring herself to look Maskheart in the eye at this moment, but when she did, the emerald green orbs were shining with sorrow – a look that said, 'What am I supposedto do with myself now?'

Maskheart hated seeing that look; she absolutely despised it. All this time of knowing Ravenfeather, she wanted her true colors to bleed through whatever casing she was in, but now that they did – well, Maskheart understood why they never did. But this wasn't color bleeding through, it was sheer agony and pain that she wish she could just blot out.

The both of them weren't actually all that different.

"None of this was your fault, do you understand? None of it. You didn't intend for us to fall here; it was an accident."

No, Ravenfeather was a gradient of colors, and at that point there was lying something great.

She tried to suppress a sigh. Either Maskheart imagined herself letting it out, or she actually did because it felt as if all anxiety was breathed out of her. It was soft and quiet as her personality, but she tried to come up with a solution for the both of them. "Well, then, we'll just have to.. venture in deeper and see what we find there."

But, really, she wasn't sure she wanted to find anything here. The legend of the Forbidden Forest wasn't as notorious as it's legacy. It was always just branded into their minds that imminent danger was to come if you had happened to survive the fall in. Maskheart never thought that it was literal to fall, let alone it would actually happen to her.

Fear now sunk in as she really began to think, but it was cut short.

"I know what we'll do," Ravenfeather suddenly informed, confidence perking up with her change in mood. "Follow me. We'll just have to explore what is in this forest and find a way out by that direction."

The lithe, angular face of Maskheart was painted with a frown, and her head slumped beneath the height of her shoulders. "That is sort of what I suggested."

It was probably not made evident, as the point Maskheart made was more of a mutter – though, she did not intend for that. The feathery she-cat was washed with a more bright attitude that she had before and strode rather elegantly, with grandeur fit for royalty to the mark which showed the beginning of a deep, dark forest to their right side. But, this time, the act – compared to whatever was done before – was done fearlessly.

This time, it was Maskheart's turn to gather some of that fearlessness. So, with the tad bit reluctance, she started to make her way behind Ravenfeather, as she did in a game they used to play as kits. That's all you have to do. Follow the game rules, follow Ravenfeather, and you'll be fine. She's always there for you – don't forget that. She won't lead you into something you can't handle.

...

Maskheart reluctantly viewed everything from above her head and beneath her paws. She was growing more wary. "Are you sure you know where we're going?"

"Not backing out of this, are you?" Ravenfeather challenged a bit playfully from over her shoulder. Suddenly, Ravenfeather was not Ravenfeather, but she abruptly changed into the face of a stranger Maskheart had never met before.

She quickly jerked backwards in fear.

"Mask, what is it?"

"No-nothing. I-I-"

Ravenfeather cast a worried glance her way but continued to move forward.

What was once strangely foreign was now a bit slightly familiar to her. But then that sensation quickly dissipated, and she forced herself to move onward.

Not a single word was spoken between the two from then on.

Maskheart looked around her, above, to the sides, and every so often she took a glance behind her. She wouldn't be able to explain it if one asked, but she knew there was someone – or something – sharing the atmosphere between them. She could just sense it in her very core. It was like it was pushing, leading them onward into something that you could only go so far into. But, the thing was, the more deeper into it you were, the more impossible it was to get out. Like being restricted by a constricting type of snake, the more you tried to grasp for breath, the more it tightened.

Once you left a boundary to go to the heart of the forbidden, you could not go back that way. The only way to go was forward. What Maskheart did not realize was that every time she cast a glance backwards, that would be her last sight of it as she moved straight ahead.

As the black - and - white she-cat let herself wander further into the threatening entrapment, a tenseness grew. Yet, along with the bound up anxiousness of the two, hurt was hidden in the recesses of both cats' emotions.

The two knew each other almost like they knew themselves, yet there were so many pent up feelings – but most troublesome, each had a past they never talked to their friend about. It was pushed to stay back in the very corners of their own minds.

Let me tell you, Ravenfeather and Maskheart stuck together like they were litter-mates, sisters. Ravenfeather, too, always looked behind her, but not to search for a trailing stranger; it was to assure her that the one she cared for was protected. She was to be her guardian and protect her even if she didn't want or need it, even. Not ever would she let Maskheart face the pain she did from who she thought was close to her – so strong it was by blood.

Now, Maskheart suspected something burned in her companion's earlier life – not only because of the change of subject on rare occasions, but because of the physical scars traced all along her body, ones that were not from battle. Because, why would a kit ever have fought a battle yet?

Maskheart was also sure Ravenfeather at least knew a bit about her, the history Maskheart carried with her every moment of every day.

The problem in comparison with Maskheart was, she was abandoned by blood, not harmed. Was she not even good enough to be bothered with?

Her mother just left her, waiting in the cold depths of leaf-fall, prepared to let the monster of a blizzard freeze her kits as she didn't want to take on the responsibility they brought her.

Maskheart didn't remember her at all, she was only a faint creature in her nightmares who didn't even have a face. She did, however, remember the feelings she brought up, and the death of a brother who couldn't be saved due to her actions.

Pebblebrook then cared for her. And that was enough. The black - and - white she-cat could accept that, forgive the space of a cat in her life, and move on. Other things, however, she could not move on from. And that was her mother's memory – the one she didn't have of her, remember? Perhaps, she hadn't fully forgiven this unknown aspect in her life.

"Don't worry, little kit. You're safe now, in my warmth."

A tiny creature blinked vacant eyes in return to this new figure. "Who are you?"

Maskheart quickly whipped her head to her left side. It was a different kind of force that brought such a flash back. It was one she didn't want to travel back to, yet it was forced as a whisper in her ears; it consumed everywhere then no where at all.

"Mother, why are you leaving me here?"

Now, she wanted desperately to stop breathing. Her head was now throbbing with a deeper pain than physical, in flashes. It was so quick she could hardly respond to it.

That peace she longed for did not seem to fall ahead of her in the path she was traveling. Not was it is sight. Not anymore.

The only thing ahead of her where the tallest of trees she had ever seen, not revealing any sky above; Maskheart hadn't seen sky since they became trapped in this dreadful place. It seemed to take all that she wished to forget and taunt her with that. It was a canopy shielding – no, keeping them in whatever forest they were in. The Forbidden Forest.

All of it was endless, whatever surrounded them looked completely the same. Until suddenly, a tabby with the most chilling of silver wrapped around her coat was standing in front of the two about three fox-tails away. Her frozen hard blue eyes turned them into ghostly versions of themselves.

She was a statue of something that mesmerized Maskheart, as the woodland floor of SilverClan's territory.

"Who are you – and just what do you think you are doing in my forest?" the icy creature inquired.

Breathe in.

Breath out.

Breathe in and out.

In this moment, I know that I must put into action all that my foster-mother has taught me. In this moment, and every moment afterwards, I must have courage. This can't take me down with it; it won't.

Benjamin Franklin

How few there are who have courage enough to own their faults, or resolution enough to mend them.

...

Sarah Dessen

Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that's what makes you strong.

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.

...

Winston Churchill

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Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,

'I will try again tomorrow.'

Mary Anne Radmacher

A/N: This chapter was incorporated to be pretty self-explanatory in its lesson. I hope that you understand all that is taking place and its mystery. If you want to experience the full eerie feel of it, check back at the dialogue of the prologue. /hint, hint

May you all have courage in what you do. Remember, the moment you seem to lack it is when you need it most. Don't ever lose faith; though, it may seem better to do so. Trust me, I have been put under some pretty difficult circumstances.

Don't ever lose heart. Don't ever lose faith. Don't ever lose courage.

...

Ravenfeather belongs to my friend.