Fireheart

Do I feel guilty? Do I feel bad about what I've done? Fireheart pondered this as he sat alone in the center of Bluestar's den. No matter how much he searched his heart, he did not feel anything. Not a single twinge of remorse, or pang of guilt. Good. The flame colored tom licked his chest fur flat.

He and Graystripe had arrived back at the ThunderClan camp earlier that evening. They were instantly whisked off to Bluestar, forced to give her and Tigerclaw a full debriefing. He had told them everything. Well, almost everything. He groomed his muzzle, careful to keep his countanence clean and orderly. It's easy. Like taking honey from a kit. He had told them the version he wanted them to know. The version they wanted to hear. Fireheart twitched his tail impatiently. What did Bluestar want, that she had to keep him waiting like this? With boredom threatening to overcomb him, Firepaw decided to think back on the previous day. On what had really happened…

The way had been hard, but WindClan had arrived back at its camp early that morning. It had taken nearly the whole day for the Clan to get settled, and Graystripe had decided to help. This stupid move had left Fireheart with no choice but to stick around and count the blades of grass. When the day was drawing to a close, they were finally allowed to leave, politely kicked out of the camp by Tallstar himself. They were to be escorted back to ThunderClan territory. But with the sun already setting, the WindClan warriors decided to take them on a shortcut. Of course, the brilliant moor cats got lost somehow, and led them right through RiverClan territory. That's where they encountered the patrol.

It was a group of three cats, maybe of them was Leopardfur, a senior RiverClan warrior. Just another story of how lucky Fireheart's life seemed to be. Surprised, the fight had started before any cat could explain themselves. Graystripe jumped at a muscular black tom with a single white paw. Whiteclaw. The new warrior was completely unmatched, and he was pushed back towards a gulch that led into a stream. It wasn't big, the drop was only a couple of fox lengths deep. Just in time, Graystripe slipped past the warrior's guard, and managed to escape away from the edge, but he wasn't quick enough to dodge Whiteclaw's next blow. The RiverClan cat's claws gouged a wound just above his eyes, temporarily blinding him with blood. Fireheart had then decided that he had to do something. It wouldn't look good if Graystripe was hurt like that, while Fireheart got out unscathed. So Fireheart lunged at the warrior, who neatly dodged out of the way.

"Hmmm," Whiteclaw mewed, "I recognize you. The name's Fireheart, isn't it?"

"That's me," Fireheart didn't get lured into a false sense of security.

"I remember you now," his opponent circled him, "You're that cat who Spottedleaf always talked about." What? Spottedleaf had talked about him? A thrill of happiness coursed through him, but was instantly crushed by just as much sadness. Spottedleaf was dead now.

Whiteclaw continued, "She really had you fooled, didn't she?"

"What do you mean? Spottedleaf never fooled anyone!"

"Oh," Whiteclaw purred, "If only that was true." The fight was still raging around them, but none of that mattered to Fireheart.

"If mew even one lie about Spottedleaf, I will kill you." He growled.

The RiverClan cat's eyes glinted in the semidarkness, "I'm not lying. She was nothing more than a fox. A conniving, lying fox. She lied to you." With a yowl of pure rage, Fireheart threw himself at the dark warrior. Whiteclaw didn't even have time to put up a defense before Fireheart crashed into him, sending him skidding over the edge of the gulch. The cat managed to dig his claws into the dirt, just avoiding plunging into the turbulent waters below. Fear flashed naked in his eyes.

"Help!" he yowled, but his mew was drowned out by the sounds of battle. He looked up at the young warrior above him. Those green eyes were alight with the calm insanity of a murderer. Whiteclaw had seen eyes like that once before. In a cat named Redtail.

He clambered for a better grip, feeling his claws slipping, "Look, I'll tell you anything! I'll tell you the truth about Bluestar!" Fireheart didn't even blink.

"Goodbye." He struck Whiteclaw as hard as he could across the face, claws slicing through his fur easily. The RiverClan cat screeched in pain, and lost his grip plunging into rocks and waters below.

"Fireheart?"

The young warrior turned at the sound of his leader's voice, "Yes Bluestar?" The silver grey she cat walked into the den, her blue eyes troubled.

Finally, she mewed, "I have something very serious to ask you, Fireheart."

"What is it?" He kept his mew innocent and respectful. The news of Whiteclaw's death had been revealed the moment they had returned to camp. It wasn't secret. Of course, everyone thought it was an accident. Just a mistake. In a way it was, Fireheart thought, Whiteclaw just made the mistake of insulting Spottedleaf.

"Did you kill Whiteclaw?" The question caught Fireheart off guard. Why would she ask a question like that?

"No, Bluestar."

Bluestar eyed him critically, her gaze seeming to pierce through his soul, "Are you sure?"

Fireheart fought back the urge to gulp nervously, She knows nothing! "Of course, Bluestar. Like I told you before, it was just a terrible accident." Then, just for good measure, he let his head droop in fake sorrow, "I can't believe a cat died. A good warrior, died for nothing."

Was it his imagination, or did Bluestar's eyes glimmer with hope? "I know, Fireheart. Sometimes, we just can't understand the will of StarClan."

"Is that all?"

The leader sat down wearily, "Yes. Thank you, Fireheart. You may leave now." As he walked out of the den, Fireheart couldn't help but wonder what secret Bluestar had. A secret that Whiteclaw thought was worthy of his life. I'll figure it out.

Fireheart sat just underneath the Highledge with Graystripe, flicking his tail methodically. He had had a nice nap inside the warriors' den, until Willowpelt woke them up for the ceremony. That she cat seemed to be struggling with the concept of gently waking a cat up. I feel like I just got attacked by a swarm of deranged elders.

Bluestar pushed through the bramble tendrils curtaining her den and approached the Highledge. Fireheart couldn't resist the tingle of excitement that was spreading along his spine. She was going to give him an apprentice. The kits were six moons old now, and Fireheart was easily the most talented of the younger warriors in the Clan. Training an apprentice meant he would be eligible for the deputy position―and that would be his first step to becoming leader. Finally, things are working in my favor!

Fireheart turned his green gaze to the nursery and saw a pure white queen approaching the Highledge, with two kits in tow. One was a thoughtful-looking ginger tomkit; the other was a grey she-kit who appeared to be unable to sit still for more than thirty seconds. I think I want the ginger, Fireheart thought. He'll be much easier to train… and control.

Then Bluestar leapt up onto the Highledge and yowled the familiar words.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!"

The ThunderClan cats were already pooling around the Highledge, gathering and looking up at Bluestar expectantly.

"This moonhigh," Bluestar continued, "We gather together to name two new apprentices. Come forward, you two."

The little grey she-kit bounced forward ahead of her mother, almost tumbling head over heals in excitement, while the ginger kit followed at a more sedate pace. His ears were pricked and he wore a serious expression as he approached the Highledge. Hmm, Fireheart thought. That one's a thinker. Was that a good thing? Or a potential threat?

"From this day forward," Bluestar meowed, gazing down at the little grey kit, "until she has earned her warrior name, this apprentice shall be known as Cinderpaw."

"Cinderpaw!" the she-kit squeaked, apparently unable to contain her excitement. A warning hiss came from Frostfur, and Cinderpaw ducked her head apologetically.

"Fireheart," Bluestar meowed, glancing down at the sleek fire-colored tom. "You are ready for your first apprentice. You will begin Cinderpaw's training."

Fox dung. That was all Fireheart could think as he realized that the boisterous, hyperactive she-kit was now his apprentice. He was effectively stuck with her for anywhere from three moons to seven. Bluestar's voice was continuing on with the ceremony, but Fireheart was almost wholly focused on his newfound problem. Training an apprentice seemed almost not worthwhile if it meant putting up with a crazed ball of annoying fluff for the next five moons.

Bluestar's strong mew was what finally snapped Fireheart back into reality. The ceremony was only half over, after all.

"And this apprentice will be known as Brackenpaw," Bluestar said, gazing warmly at the small ginger kit. "Graystripe, you will train Brackenpaw. Our lost friend Lionheart was your mentor. I hope that his skill and wisdom will pass through you to your new apprentice."

Huh. What skill is there to pass? Fireheart thought bitterly as he watched Graystripe lean down to touch noses with the apprentice he had wanted. That poor kit isn't going to get a shred of 'wisdom' with Graystripe for a mentor.

Then Fireheart realized that he should also have touched noses with his new apprentice. He stepped forward quickly and leaned down just as Cinderpaw was stretching up to reach him. Their noses collided painfully. Cinderpaw touched Fireheart's nose again, this time more gently, but the fire-colored warrior's eyes were already watering with pain, and he had to try very, very hard to keep himself from cursing out loud.

Fireheart turned to leap down from his ledge, and as he went he caught a glimpse of the Clan. Every cat seemed to have some measure of respect in their eyes. Just imagine what it'll be like when I'm leader!

Then Fireheart looked over at Tigerclaw. The deputy's gaze was hard and unyielding, as if to say, I will never trust you. The fur on Fireheart's shoulder began to rise, and he had to force it back down.

I'll show him, and everyone else, he promised himself as he leapt down and headed for the warriors' den. I'll be the model mentor! It doesn't matter what that little furball is like. I can train any apprentice.