Wow, I really didn't expect to finish this today. I was planning to just finish that War of Shadows chapter I posted earlier and just call it a day, but then I took a shower and Willowpaw was like HEY LOVE MEEEEE so I decided I would go for it.

Notes...notes...Oh. This chapter is actually lovely. I adore the first half, and I rarely think I do a good job, so there you go. The second half is sort of rushed, because I realized that this is like twice the length of some chapters in the past. Yeah, there's that, too. It's LONG, and the ending kind of makes you want to rip your hair out. But it's good? I think?

Also, yes. I finally gave Willowpaw her love interest. The others have been talking about Willowpaw's love life for like two books, but she hasn't exactly given it any thought. UNTIL NOW! If you guys really want, I'll explain the rationale for who I set Willowpaw up with. Just review or PM me and I'll explain either to you or at the start of the next chapter/on my profile. Either way.

That's all - enjoy! (I also don't own Warriors, but Willowpaw and Sky and friends are sort of mine. Also Mouse and Bracken and Fountain. I love them!)

Chapter 13: Fate will Decide

Camp had not fallen so silent in a long time. That was what Willowpaw remembered about the night they sat vigil for Rustfur. Warriors died all the time, but this was different, and every cat in the Clan could feel it just as acutely as the five young apprentices who formed a sullen half-circle a few paces away from the red warrior's body. Though she was most likely wrong, Willowpaw was sure that she could feel the sudden shift in the atmosphere far more keenly than any of her littermates.

Littlepaw and Skypaw had been there to see Rustfur die, and while they certainly seemed shaken by the experience, it was as if each of them was calmed by a fact unknown to everyone else, bound together in their mutual encounter. Birdpaw was a medicine cat, softened from the rage of battle but hardened to the sting of death. And Mountainpaw would never show pain – he was an unyielding cat made for the harsh warrior life. That just left Willowpaw, who should have been used to seeing corpses bathed in moonlight. Four lives had been lost by an out-of-place flick of her eyes and a swipe of her paw. Four cats had been cast aside, destroyed by the frozen power that lay in her heart. Rustfur was not one of those four cats, but he, too, looked just as they had. Struck down by a calamity he could not control, snatched away from a life he could have cherished. Everyone looked the same under their last moonbeams.

She was not the first cat to turn away from the body – in fact, she was one of the last to tuck in for the night. Slowly, the Clan moved back towards its daily ritual, all in silence. When it was just them, sitting in the camp with Stealthstep, Thornclaw, Hazeltail, and a few of the younger warriors, Mountainpaw slipped his tail over Willowpaw's shoulder without a word. Willowpaw knew what he wanted from her, but she didn't let herself look into her brother's face until her paws were quivering from the effort of remaining upright and her eyes were fighting the insatiable desire to close. When she did, she noticed that Birdpaw had slipped off. Skypaw and Littlepaw still sat together, tails entwined, leaning so closely together that silver and gold pelts blurred together and it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began. Willowpaw wasn't sure who needed who more.

Mountainpaw's jerk of his head was all the indication that Willowpaw needed, and she gave in. The two littermates did not break the horrific silence; nor did Honeypaw, who stirred lightly upon their entrance into the apprentice's den. Mountainpaw and Willowpaw did not need to speak either – Willowpaw could read the plea on Mountainpaw's face. He worried about her like the others did, but she had never noticed it before. Usually, when he worried about his littermates, his actions were so subtle. Not like this. Mountainpaw, too, had felt the shift, and he knew how deeply Willowpaw was affected by this recent development. And he just wanted to make sure that she would sleep.

Nodding lightly, Willowpaw crossed over to her brother and lay down, the only thing that convinced him to do the same. She felt the brush of his fur against hers briefly, and then there was more silence. That stifling, incredible silence broken only by the twitching of Snowpaw's tail against moss and the light puff of air that came with Mountainpaw's breathing. Outside, she could still imagine Skypaw and Littlepaw, reliving the moment of Rustfur's death over and over again as the cold moon overlooked ThunderClan's silence with a watchful eye.

Somewhere between then and dawn, she slept. And for the first time in a long time, Willowpaw dreamed of something more than chasing mice and playing in the snow with dream-Mouseclaw. Instead of banal illusions crafted by her futile desires of having a normal life, Willowpaw dreamed of the day she destroyed the world. The dream had come to her often in the time she spent away from ThunderClan, but it had left her alone upon re-embracing her littermates again. But it returned in startling clarity, and Willowpaw relived every moment of the horror, an imaginary reality she created in her own fears.

The day would start out easily enough. Normal Clan life. Normal Clan duties. Willowpaw would watch it all in a suspended state from the center of it all, and her vision revolved to take in all of it. The heat and emotion she could feel bouncing off of each cat, and as it flitted over to her, she breathed it all in. A faceless, arbitrary cat was jubilant; another was desolate. Feeling their emotions wash over her, Willowpaw imagined herself in their lives, their simple Clan lives. The tastes of love, of life, all so jovial and beautiful…it all crashed upon her like the waves on the lake shore. All so hot, tangible, taunting on her tongue.

Then somewhere within her stone-cold, detached heart, it would all begin. Slowly, a frost reaching out like tentative tentacles, exploring her surroundings. At first taste of blood – emotional, hot, blood within cats – it struck, drinking until there was no more warmth. Outward in an arc it expanded, exponentially growing as Willowpaw struck her prey. She fell away from her body, somehow, forced to watch from a view that was everywhere at once as ice spread over the world. It wasn't quick, volatile, or terribly graphic. Nothing happened, really, except that everything her icy web hit suddenly…just…stopped. Trees withered and died under her touch. Mice froze in their homes, curled up around their last nut. Cats in all four Clans and beyond just lay down, as if preparing for a rather long, peaceful nap. On and on it stretched, encompassing everything in a sheet of ice.

The worst part was that everything, like that Clan that night, was silent. Willowpaw's destruction of the world did not involve explosions or apocalyptic warnings; there was no fanfare to the globe that its end was coming. Nobody noticed until it was already done, and even then there was no real carnage. The dream suspended everything as Willowpaw's dreaming self was, detached, frozen in one place in one time and fated never to move from it. In the dream, she thought nothing was wrong. She just watched and felt nothing as the world froze.

Usually it stopped there, but not tonight. Tonight, Willowpaw was left in a blank state to wander her personal museum of life. Eternally preserved, it waited for her exploration. She was alone.

And suddenly, she was not.

"You are troubled, young kit." The voice was unknown to her, and bore no face. It rang out in the ferns shriveled in cold, in the dead layer of dirt and worms beneath her paws, in the flattened birds that had fallen from the sky. "Will you not share your story?"

"I destroy," she said, but the words had no real effect on her feelings. The dream itself made Willowpaw feel away from it. As if it wasn't really a concern of hers. Destroying the world just couldn't be important enough to bother her, it seemed. "That is all I am capable of doing."

"Perhaps," agreed the voice. "Will you let this impulse destroy you as well?"

"What else can I do?" Her own question rang out in the air, and every second it went unanswered just confirmed Willowpaw's own beliefs.

"You are young, and alone, and lost," said the voice. "That is no way for a kit like you to live."

"I have no choice," said Willowpaw. "I am she who freezes the roots of everything."

"Your mother calls you Willowpaw."

Those words suddenly hit her, and Willowpaw could not respond. She slowly sat, and her emotions slowly returned to her as if they were drifting in after the midnight patrol and were eager to go to bed. Sluggishly, she realized that all of this destruction was very real. This was what was fated to happen, somehow, and she was the one who would do it.

But the mysterious voice was right. Her mother called her Willowpaw. A Clan name, a gentle name. Representing the beautiful trees that draped over rivers and tickled cats' noses as they raced through noisy brooks and darted through narrow tunnels.

"I am confused," she admitted. The voice was a trusted friend, a confidante, and that was the very thing she needed. "What do I do?"

"Your answers do not lie in this world." The voice was oh-so-stern, and Willowpaw shrank from it. "You and your siblings have been blind to the truth you do not wish to see. Look for yourself, Willowpaw. See then if you believe Mountainpaw's reports."

"How do I do that?"

"Come speak with me," said the voice. "I can show you things greater than these shattered images."

"Speak with you?" asked Willowpaw. "Where will I find you?"

"Follow your route to the site of your fears," said the voice cryptically. "Once you are upon it, I will find you."

She could feel the shift in the air that predicted that she would be alone, without her shapeless companion, so she whirled, for the first time looking for a source.

"Please don't go," wailed Willowpaw. "I don't want to be alone."

A pause.

"The way of truth is often the way of solitude," said the voice sadly. "All of us must make great sacrifices if we are to put this darkness behind us. The stars are fading, young one, and by no coincidence. The ranks of your beloved ancestors have been infected, and this disease is not one you can fight."

"Disease?" called Willowpaw, though she felt it wasn't her place to interrupt.

"The choice is coming to every last member of your world and the one you revere," said the voice. "But regardless of their choices, your choice is the largest of all. Your choice must be the right one if we are to survive."

A wave of the wind, and Willowpaw was utterly alone in a spacious world of which she had deposed. Slowly, although the air felt too cold for such things to be possible, a tear slipped down Willowpaw's cheek and hissed upon its descent to the frosty ground.

XXXXX

"Hey, what's the matter with you this morning?" Willowpaw looked up in surprise at Mouseclaw's words, meeting only the concern in her mentor's eyes. "You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"It's…hard to explain," said Willowpaw. They walked a few more paces in silence, treading over the forest floor and crushing little pockets of morning frost. "Please don't worry about me."

"I always worry about you," said Mouseclaw quietly. When Willowpaw didn't reply – how could she? – he sighed. "Well, we've gotten enough prey for one morning. Let's go back to camp."

They made the return trek in silence, with Willowpaw's mind on other things. The voice in her head was calling her to the place of her fears – and she knew where that was. Willowpaw could see it all in her head, from the moment she had killed Brackenfur to her time on the run, from the second she had entered that old lean-to with the rogues to her conversation with Doveheart. If destroying the world was the subject, and she was certainly afraid of that, then her fears of doing so would begin at that strange and desolate time in her life.

When she returned, Mountainpaw was the only one of her friends in camp. Willowpaw did the duties Mouseclaw assigned her in detached silence, the sad looks he gave her making her stomach turn every time she turned away. Then she took a seat next to her brother.

"You were thrashing around in your sleep last night," said Mountainpaw without looking up from his breakfast. "I tried to soothe you, but the nightmare just got worse."

He said this in a tired, casual way, and Willowpaw knew that the voice was just his way of begging her to trust him.

"I think I might have to go find out something," she said hesitantly. Mountainpaw's eyes held only a question. "By myself."

"Is that what your dream was about?" he asked. Willowpaw shrugged. "It's not smart to leave the Clan on your own. Especially after what happened last time." Willowpaw winced at the reference, but Mountainpaw didn't care about her shyness over the topic. He continued to hold her eyes. "Would you at least tell me what the issue is?"

Willowpaw's jaw tightened as she tried to find a way to reveal the truth to him without terrifying him. She could just imagine the look on her brother's face when she told him of her dreams of destroying the world – he would look upon her with horror, with disgust.

"A nightmare," she said instead. "I keep having this nightmare, and…I was told that I could figure out what it means if I go back to where the rogues live. I've been told that someone will meet me there."

"And you want to go out on your own?" Mountainpaw put his head on his paws. "Outside of our territory, no one will protect you. Not even StarClan will be able to watch you."

"StarClan is dying," said Willowpaw evenly. She watched him react sadly, bitterly, as if he was reliving his view of StarClan's territory over and over again. "I don't care what Skypaw and Birdpaw say. I believe what you saw, and you do, too. There's nowhere that is safe and we have to figure out why."

She saw him giving in, which relieved her instantly. If Mountainpaw was on board with her plan, then at least she had the support of someone.

"When were you thinking of leaving?" he asked. Willowpaw hadn't given it any thought, really – she hadn't even decided she was leaving until moments ago.

"Leaving?" Willowpaw jumped, although she figured she should have scented her three littermates. Littlepaw was smiling pleasantly at her, while Birdpaw and Skypaw flanked him. "Why are you leaving?"

Willowpaw hastily gave them the same summary she had given Mountainpaw. Skypaw's frown was the worst thing she had seen all day.

"A nightmare?" she asked, disbelieving. "Wouldn't you want to talk to…I don't know, Jayfeather? I'm sure he could help more than some silly journey."

"Maybe we could help," said Littlepaw. He tilted his head to the side. "Why wouldn't you come to us before deciding to leave?"

How could Willowpaw answer that question? She couldn't tell them the truth – she didn't want to see them stare at her all wide-eyed and horrified. Would even Littlepaw still love her if they knew what her fate was spelling out for her?

"This is about your theory, isn't it?" asked Skypaw suddenly. Willowpaw looked up, appalled, but remembering sharply how opposed Skypaw had been to her idea of StarClan being struck with this shadow dust. "Willowpaw, seriously. You can't start abandoning StarClan. If you let go of StarClan, what do you have left?"

Willowpaw opened her mouth to defend Mountainpaw's dream and her interpretation of it, but Littlepaw spoke first. As always, his words were a calm laser which stunned them all into silence:

"It's sad that we're fighting against ourselves. We've started keeping things from each other and that really can't go on."

"We're not keeping things from each other," said Willowpaw a little too quickly. "I've told you. I just want to sort out what this dream means and I think this is my best bet." She sighed. "It's the one I had when I was out with the rogues. This is the first time I've had it since I got back."

"What kind of dream?" asked Birdpaw, sitting down and pulling her tail around herself. Willowpaw hesitated, sure that she didn't want her siblings to know, but unsure what to tell them.

"I can't really tell," she said instead. "Everything is too confused, and I always forget a good third of it afterwards."

She scanned her littermates' eyes for proof that this was good enough of an explanation. Mountainpaw and Birdpaw looked on her sadly but sympathetically. Littlepaw was nodding, expressionless as he often was, but didn't look as if he suspected her of lying.

But Skypaw, on the other paw, had never looked so suspicious.

"I can't believe what you're doing, Willowpaw," said Skypaw furiously. "You've always done this, haven't you? Decided that you can just go change the world and do whatever you want, and think that it has no consequence to the cats around you!"

She stared at Skypaw, horrified, and slowly got to her feet.

"What, like you do?" she declared. "Since when do you get to be the leader, Skypaw? When did we decide that you get to boss us around and make our decisions for us? I can do what I want, Skypaw."

"See, there you go! Thinking you're the only one that matters!"

"At least I don't try to drag everyone else with me! How about somebody else makes the decisions for once? Why can't we ever disagree, huh? It always has to be us all agreeing with you, or it won't work." She glared daggers at Skypaw, now aware that they were getting some strange looks.

"Guys, we shouldn't fight…" said Mountainpaw carefully. Willowpaw ignored him.

"Why can't you ever keep out of my problems?" demanded Willowpaw.

"Why can't you ever trust me?" said Skypaw. "You're always off on your own, keeping secrets and lying right to our faces. How are we supposed to get anything done that way?"

"We don't have to do everything together," said Willowpaw. "We're separate cats! We're not just Skypaw clones made to do what Skypaw says."

Skypaw shrieked in fury, and now, everyone was looking at them. Willowpaw felt the heat in camp intensify, heard hearts beat faster and felt blood churn. Skypaw was suddenly a boiling force, penetrable only by ice. They surrounded her, with their warm pelts and their sharp claws – they were everywhere.

"You're missing the point entirely," said Skypaw. "And you're going to be the one that destroys us, Willowpaw. You and your secrets! You ruin…everything!"

You're going to be the one that destroys us. You ruin everything.

Yes. She was the destroyer. That was Willowpaw.

"I…" Willowpaw choked. She scrambled backwards, hitting Mountainpaw by mistake. But he was warm, too. She screamed, recoiling dangerously before she could feel the heat any more intensely. Birdpaw's eyes were bright green, echoes of the flames she mastered – her presence was doing this, wasn't it? Driving her crazy with the heat, the warmth…it threatened to take her over.

She could see the world turning slowly to ice, see her Clan-mates freezing where they stood and dying instantly. It was as if her dreams were overlapping her reality now. No…in her dream, she had been offered solace. Your mother calls you Willowpaw.

She saw the fury in Skypaw's eyes once more before turning tail and running.

"Willowpaw! Willowpaw!" It was several seconds out of camp before she processed the voice calling her; she hesitantly turned to see Brackenheart staring at her desperately. "Where are you going?"

"Get away from me," said Willowpaw. She could feel him, too, so warm, so near…

Brackenheart looked wounded, and he took a step back. Willowpaw wanted to cry, seeing that look on her friend's face, but what could she say? They had been best friends, but now…now he loved her. How was she supposed to react to someone who loved her? How could he possibly love her? She was the destroyer, nothing more. Brackenheart could never love her.

"Willowpaw, I'm sorry," said Brackenheart. He hesitantly took a step forward, desperate. "Please don't run away. Let me help."

It made Willowpaw laugh. "You can't help, Brackenheart."

"I can try." The golden tom took a deep breath. "You know how I feel about you, Willowpaw. And I don't want to push you, but I'm so tired of waiting. I hoped you would feel the same way. If you'll let me in, I'd help you forever. I'd always be there. I'd – "

"Brackenheart, please," she said, feeling the tears brimming on her eyes. She couldn't see him standing there, so pathetic and desperate – not anymore. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can never…feel like that. I'm just…you should just stay away from me."

The way his face fell made her tears fall, and she hoped they weren't freezing on her face. Her ex-best-friend turned away, the shades falling on his face.

"Okay," he said. "I'm sorry for ruining our friendship." And he turned and fled.

Willowpaw stared after Brackenheart for several seconds, now letting the tears freeze on her face. This was for the best. He couldn't love her, not when she was this. She was alone in this, and that was the truth. Sniffing pathetically, Willowpaw turned her back on the camp and started to run again.

"No! Willowpaw!" Another voice, but Willowpaw was done handling other cats. They didn't love her, they didn't want her. How could they? She was a monster. "WILLOWPAW!"

Mouseclaw's voice broke in the newleaf air, and the shrillness in it made Willowpaw stop short. How could she face him, after she had already destroyed Brackenheart? She couldn't hurt Mouseclaw, too. She had to go. Her only chance was out there somewhere, with that voice, with her fears. But Mouseclaw reached her before she could start moving again, and he stood in front of her, out of breath. His eyes that intense blue.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I have to go," said Willowpaw. "Please, Mouseclaw, get out of the way."

"No," said Mouseclaw. "I won't let you leave again." Willowpaw laughed – as if he could really stop her. He was warm, too. Didn't he know how she could hurt him? She would freeze him, too. Just like all the others. He had to stay away from her, too. Just like her siblings, and just like Brackenheart.

"You don't understand," she said. "I have to leave." She pushed past him, intent on leaving him behind before she had to hurt him.

"Then I'm coming with you," said Mouseclaw quietly. "You can run as far away as you like, but I'm coming with you. I'm going to make sure to bring you home."

Willowpaw stopped. The forest blurred before her eyes as she processed this. Home.

"Please don't worry about me anymore," she tried to say, but then his pelt pressed into her side. Steam hissed between them, but Mouseclaw didn't notice. Willowpaw moved away before he could react to her chilliness, or before she could hurt him.

"I always worry about you," he said, staring her straight in the eye. "Willowpaw, I've been your friend forever. And Bramblestar chose me to be your mentor. That means I have to guard you and make sure you become a great warrior."

"You can't protect me," said Willowpaw. "You can't. Not anymore."

"You can't stop me from trying," said Mouseclaw. She could feel the throb of his heart, even from so far away; she could feel the boil in his blood, even from where he stood two tail-lengths away. "I don't care if you hate me. I don't care if you push me away. I don't care if you tell me to leave you alone. I won't do it." He stepped closer, making her wince. "I will stay here, with you."

"I can't…" said Willowpaw. She started to say the same thing she had said to Brackenheart, knowing exactly where this was going. Then she realized how serious Mouseclaw was, and that nothing she said would keep him away. "I don't want to hurt you."

He shrugged. "You're worth getting hurt for."

Willowpaw's tears froze on her cheeks, but she didn't care, and he didn't question it. She felt the ice in her heart dislodge a little bit, just enough to make her nod.

"I have to go speak to someone," she said in a narrow voice. "I don't know who, but if I head this way, they'll find me."

"Um…Willowpaw."

"I know, it sounds crazy," said Willowpaw with a giggle. "But I'm also crazy, so…"

"You're not crazy," said Mouseclaw. "You're worrisome. How do you know this isn't a trap?"

"It's not," said Willowpaw. She cast a glance back at him. "And if it is, well…I don't care."

He didn't look convinced, but Willowpaw didn't care. A little part of her felt giddy at knowing that he wouldn't leave. Maybe he would, once he found out the truth, but for now…now he was here. Now someone was here, and someone had decided to not give up on her.

They hiked through WindClan territory, reaching the area around the Moontree in the afternoon. Willowpaw scented the air and looked around, trying to remember. Her heart was beating quicker now, as if she was the source of the heat for once. The fear was already starting to remind her how much she had hated this time. Walking this path, taking this road…it all just reminded her that she had hurt cats here. She had gone with the rogues and had killed some of them. They thought her a monster – which was something she was. This was just proof of what she still subconsciously denied.

"Where next?" asked Mouseclaw after a few more minutes of aimless, slow walking. "I thought you said this someone would find you."

"He will." Willowpaw's mind shut down as she registered the voice from her dreams. She stopped short and slowly looked around the clearing.

"Willowpaw, look out!" Mouseclaw jumped in front of her, and behind him, Willowpaw could just barely see a brutal form nearly three times her size. She gasped, seeing white fur, blue eyes. The wolf prowled towards them, and Mouseclaw hissed.

"Wait, Mouseclaw," said Willowpaw, and she darted around him, despite his gasp. For some reason, she wasn't afraid. The he-wolf approached, opening his jaws slightly and letting her see tall, razor-sharp teeth drizzled in saliva. "You're the one who spoke in my dreams."

"Very clever," said the wolf, and his voice was every bit the same. He approached still, licking his lips. "You are Willowpaw, the little kitty-cat afraid of what she is." He laughed, snapping his jaws close to Willowpaw's tail. Mouseclaw hissed, but Willowpaw took a step towards the he-wolf.

"Afraid of what I am," she confirmed. "But not afraid of you."

It took a long moment, but then the savagery vanished from the wolf's eyes, and he took a seat. Suddenly, he was a regal creature, sitting tall and proud and wise.

"Then you are who they say you are," said the wolf. "My name is Fountain."

"Willowpaw – " meowed Mouseclaw weakly. Fountain's light eyes flew up to meet his, and Mouseclaw flinched away.

"It's okay. He won't hurt us," said Willowpaw. She took another step towards Fountain. "You said you had things to share with me."

"I do," said Fountain. "But they are only for your ears." His eyes flew up towards Mouseclaw, who squawked indignantly.

"Mouseclaw, stay here," said Willowpaw quietly. She shot a look back, seeing Mouseclaw's horror. "I'll be right back."

"What if he's just trying to get you alone so he can hurt you?" asked Mouseclaw, his eyes wide and untrusting. Willowpaw laughed in spite of herself. So naïve, he was. Didn't he know how she could kill? Not even this creature would stand up to the ice.

"I'm not afraid," said Willowpaw. She spared him a smile, hope in her heart. This could work. "I'll see you in a little while."

Before Mouseclaw could protest, she nodded at Fountain to lead her away. The he-wolf dipped his head, stood up, and beckoned her into the bushes. Willowpaw took a deep breath and swallowed the little fear that she did have inside of her. She was the destroyer. She wasn't afraid of anything.

That in mind, Willowpaw followed Fountain into the brush.

SUPER LONG CHAPTER. So...super long chapter deserves some super reviews, right? I love every one of you, and I'm super grateful that you guys have stuck with this story so long, even though I don't update as often as I should and at times it really just sucks. I'm trying to fix the suckiness...but that's slow because I want to keep updating! Anyways...review?

Right, and if you have any questions, please ask them. I'm worried I'm either being TOO clear or not clear enough...

New chapters coming soon!

~Elsi