CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ever since the meeting and her vision of Thickfur mutilated beyond belief, Shredtail and Worm had stopped keeping the truth from Dawnpaw. The truth about the nightmares had been hard to grasp at first – she had hardly wanted to believe it – but after experiencing it firsthand, the she-cat had seen no other choice. The two toms were very blunt in the matter. Their explanation contained no reassurances, no softening of the cold, hard facts. Despite the chills it sent through her bones, Dawnpaw was grateful to them for that. They were treating her like an adult, not like a scared little kit. There was some measure of respect there.

Visions happened when night fell. Nightmares, and not just ordinary ones. The Dark Forest took your deepest fears, your worst fears, and twisted them into strange, blood-soaked apparitions that haunted the trees and the fog. The spectre of Thickfur had just been the beginning. It happened when you were sleeping too, though to a lesser extent. The darkness infiltrated your dreams, but your sleeping mind was not as susceptible to it as when you were awake.

"So you two deal with it every night, while I sleep?" Dawnpaw had asked. Shredtail had nodded, and she had pressed on. "So what do you see?" But Shredtail hadn't answered.

Now, despite all of Shredtail's protestations, she wanted to experience the night for herself. They set up a camp in a tightly-knit grove of holly trees. There was no fungus here, nothing to give off the glowing light. Twisted ferns made rudimentary dens. There was only one way into the grove, and so Shredtail figured it was safe enough. Above them, the twisting branches of the holly trees combined to make a tangled thicket. Above it, there was only the grey sky. Dawnpaw stared up at it, wondering what was up there, beyond where the trees merged with the sky.

It was greyer here than it had been in their previous campsites. The ground was grey, the trees were grey, and the lingering shrubs were cracked and withered. The ferns were the colour of ash and Dawnpaw was scared they would simply dissolve if she touched them.

"There's room to sleep, if you change your mind," said Shredtail, as they prepared for night to fall. Dusk was upon them, and for a brief moment, the clearing was awash in indigo light, a rare hint of colour in this drab world. "You should change your mind," he added pointedly.

Dawnpaw knew he didn't like this. "I know it's scary," she told him softly, "but you and Worm do it every night. I want to see what it's like."

"It's unpleasant," he said curtly.

"I can handle it," she mewed.

Shredtail shook his head. "You don't fully understand the dangers. It's not just seeing these things – it's that you might follow one into the woods, or worse, that it might drive you insane. You might never be the same again."

Dawnpaw frowned. "You and Worm will be there the whole time, making sure I don't run off. Tie me down, if you'd like."

"There's some loose roots over there," said Shredtail, though his voice was bitter and laden was sarcasm. "I just might. Anyway, you're missing my point – you might never be the same again."

"I know," she mewed simply. "I'm so scared of this place, Shredtail. How can I overcome that fear if I don't do this? I need to see what this place is. I need to face my fear. If it changes me, it will be for the better. You and Worm – you've adapted to this place. I need to adapt to it as well."

He paused, taken aback by her answer. Dawnpaw felt a slight rush of victory. He probably hadn't expected those words to come from her. She must have looked so pathetic and young; she was tiny, her ginger pelt unruly and covered in dirt. She was frail, not a fighter. But those words made her feel strong when she said them.

"That's... admirable," Shredtail mewed grudgingly. "But Dawnpaw, if you go through with this – I can't guarantee your safety."

"If I can't withstand this, am I really the cat you should pin your hopes on?" she said weakly. Dawnpaw had meant it as a joke. It hadn't come out very humorous at all. She was shaking, the ginger apprentice realized. She was scared.

"You don't have to do this," the scarred tabby repeated. She looked him over, really looked, and saw the faintest hint of concern in his tense features. While Dawnpaw was undoubtedly scared of him, there was something about him she admired: his strength and his confidence. She wished she could be half as confident. This was the first step on that journey.

"Yes," she mewed. "I do."

As the words left her muzzle, the last hint of light was extinguished from the sky. The world around her was plunged in darkness. Only the fog was visible as it wreathed around the trees. It seemed to be pulling out the life of the objects around her. Perhaps that was why everything was so grey here. The colour had long been sucked out.

Her vision of Thickfur returned. He stepped out of the bushes in front of her, blood dripping down his face. Dawnpaw swallowed but held herself still. She had seen him before. "You're not real," she mewed softly. "You're not real."

She turned around to see Shredtail and Worm behind her. Her relief was short-lived as the two toms turned to face her. Worm was covered in bleeding wounds. She could see his bones through them, dirty and cracked. His stomach was ripped open and she found herself puking as his guts slipped out of the wound and landed on the forest floor.

He was pretty in comparison with Shredtail.

Maggots crawled from Shredtail's eyes and muzzle, squirming, desperate to get out. The tom collapsed from the weight, and when the seams of his body burst open, there was nothing in there but more maggots. His skin turned to ash in front of her.

Heart thudding, she turned away from them – and felt her heart stop when Thickfur's sightless eyes were right in front of her own. Dawnpaw couldn't help herself – she screamed. Thickfur's face stayed there, taunting her, until all of the flesh fell from his bones and then it was just his skull there, silently laughing at her, until it too, fell into nothingness.

Stay calm, she told herself, none of this is real. Branchpaw came next. He looked normal as he approached her, but there was hatred in his eyes. "You killed me."

"You asked me too," said Dawnpaw desperately. The events of that day replayed in her mind just as they did every day. She could remember it clearly, so clearly. "It was the only way to save you?"

"I asked you to kill me?" Branchpaw's voice was incredulous and full of disdain. "No, Branchclaw did. He tricked you. Now I'm trapped down here with him. You could have saved me. You should have used your powers to chase him out of my head, but you didn't. It's all your fault."

Dawnpaw shook her head. "That's not true. You're not real. I saw the real Branchpaw go to StarClan."

He was in her face now, and when he spoke, his voice dripped with disgust. "Are you sure?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, he was gone.

Did Shredtail and Worm really go through this every night? Her respect for the two toms was expanding immensely. And, she realized, it wasn't just those two. It was every cat in the Dark Forest. Could they sleep? Or was she only able to because she was still alive?

Dawnpaw was going to make sure she ended up in StarClan when she died.

She took a deep breath. The visions had ceased. It was only a slight moment of refuge, but it was enough.

Then it happened. Her worst nightmare.

Sootclaw.

He was bigger here than she remembered, strong and broad-shouldered, towering over her. His amber eyes were narrowed and there was a hatred in them that was familiar to her. He stalked toward her, arrogant, disdainful, a look of contempt etched on his face. Something finally clicked in Dawnpaw's mind: he reminded her of Falconswoop.

This was Sootclaw if she had never entered his life; arrogant, filled with the conviction that everything belonged to him, that respect and leadership were his birthright.

This was her worst nightmare? She had expected to see Sootclaw bleeding or broken or, worse, dead. But this... this did scare her. She remembered all those times when, as an apprentice, Sootclaw had rejected her, had shut her away, had rejected the ideas of love and compassion in favour of power and his father's respect. Her worst nightmare was Sootclaw turning away from her, rejecting her, not needing her anymore.

Dawnpaw admitted defeat. In that moment, she believed it. Sootclaw would turn away from her. He would seek power. She couldn't save him. He didn't want her, didn't need her anymore. She was useless. Thrown aside.

Then something in her mind snapped back: no. She reached into her mind and conjured all of the happy images of Sootclaw she had tucked away. She thought of his apologies, his love, his confidence in her. She remembered when he sat by her after Branchpaw's death. She remembered the strength of their minds pushing together, the colours. She remembered his pride at becoming a warrior. She remembered his love of Kitetail. She remembered his kindness, his loyalty, his strength, and most of all, she remembered his joy when she had fought through the nothingness to contact him.

Sootclaw would never throw her aside. Everything was so simple when they were together. She belonged to him and he belonged to her. Like Shredtail said, they had pieces of each other. She called on that piece now, and she conjured her own image of Sootclaw to sit beside her.

Warmth spread through her body. Her toes tingled. She stared at the apparition in front of her, stared it down until it faded into the darkness.

Sootclaw sat with her for the rest of the night. Then the sun rose, and she fainted.

.

"Well," said Shredtail amiably, "you're not dead."

Dawnpaw sat up. Her head was pounding, her tongue was fuzzy, and her throat was dry. For a brief moment, she wished she was. Disoriented, she looked up at Shredtail. "What's going on? What time is it?"

"Just past sunhigh," he mewed. "You finally woke. How was your night?"

Dawnpaw narrowed her eyes at him, not sure if he was joking. After the night's terrors, she found she was in no mood for Shredtail's jibes. She rose unsteadily to her paws, taking in a deep breath of the cool air. It tasted fetid in her mouth and she gagged at the sudden unpleasant taste. Taking a look around, the ginger she-cat realized they were in the same grove as the night before. It was bright, as much as possible for the Dark Forest, and there was a warmth to the air that made her skin prickle under her fur. It was an unpleasant warmth, the kind that turned growth to rot.

"I'm fine," she told him, attempting to walk. Her first step was unsteady and she nearly plunged forward. Shredtail made no move to help her as she regained her balance. "Should we get moving?"

Shredtail's green eyes searched hers. "Are you sure you're alright?" Though his words were concerned, his voice was taut and clipped. He was tense, she realized. For a moment, Dawnpaw wondered if she had worried him. It seemed silly, to think she could worry a cat like him. But as the brown warrior had told her, she was his chance for redemption. If anything happened to her, he was lost.

"I said I'm fine," she told him snappily. Then something in her chest relaxed and she felt the angry tension, so unlike her, dissolve from her limbs. "It – it wasn't pleasant. I saw things I didn't expect to see. But I made it through."

He nodded curtly. "Are you ready to keep going?"

"Yeah..." she said quietly. She frowned. Something was missing. "Where's Worm?"

"Outside the grove," said Shredtail, with a jerk of his head. "He's keeping guard."

Dawnpaw nodded and swallowed, her throat still awfully dry. Her head was spinning as she padded across the clearing. Shredtail followed her silently. The ginger apprentice could feel his green eyes burning into the back of her head. Something about his gaze made her shiver. A thought struck her. "Shredtail," she said quietly.

He grunted in acknowledgement. The hulking tabby wasn't in the mood to talk.

"You deal with that every night," she mewed hesitantly. It was a statement, not a question. "How?"

The tom shrugged. "I just do," he said, voice cold.

.

The three cats continued on their journey. The warmth, a welcome change from yesterday's cold spell, remained throughout the day. Yet as nice as it was to not feel the chill in her bones, Dawnpaw couldn't help but be disgusted by the rancid odours floating toward her through the air. The warmth was stirring up the mud and the dirt. Rotting logs and trees continued their decomposition. The fog was even thicker now, and the air around them was humid and moist. Droplets of water clung to Dawnpaw's pelt.

The walk was tough after last night's events, but Dawnpaw was tougher too. Her paw pads had hardened and her muscles had strengthened, no longer complaining with every step. They stopped at a small pool to drink, and she took the opportunity to look at herself in the water. She was filthy; that was the most obvious difference. Dirt coated her pelt and her face. She was as skinny as ever, but there was a hardness to her now, muscles visible underneath her thin ginger fur. Scratches from the bramble covered her body, but they wouldn't scar.

If only Thickfur could see her now. Dawnpaw almost laughed out loud at the thought. Compared to the Dark Forest and everything that was happening, Thickfur didn't seem nearly as scary. Dimly, she realized she was glad for his unorthodox training methods. He had only been trying to prepare her, and now, covered in mud and scratches and lost far from the Clans, she could understand why.

The three of them continued in silence. They made an unlikely band of cats, and yet, Dawnpaw was growing to trust them. Shredtail still frightened her, but he had not harmed her yet, and she doubted he would. Worm made her uneasy, but he had also kept her safe. She wouldn't call them friends, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a grudging respect for her travelling companions burgeoning within her.

An odd thought struck her. "Shredtail?"

He grunted again. "What is it?"

"I was wondering..." Dawnpaw took a deep breath. "In all those stories about the Dark Forest and the battle, you know, with Tigerstar and Firestar... they called down Clan cats and trained them in their sleep. But if it was during the night, how could they have trained them? Wouldn't – wouldn't there have been the fog and the nightmares and such?"

Shredtail let out a long, slow, barking laugh. Dawnpaw felt her blood run cold and she immediately remembered what she had learned at the meeting, that Shredtail was one of Thistleclaw's most trusted cats. Had he... had he been involved in that? She frowned, wondering just how long Shredtail had been around.

Finally, the broad-shouldered tom answered. "It wasn't like this before the battle," he mewed. "The Dark Forest was still bad, but the night terrors... they didn't happen. They started when we lost."

She frowned. "Do you know why?"

Shredtail shook his head. "No," he said shortly.

Dawnpaw digested this new information. This would give the Dark Forest yet another reason to hate StarClan. They were already being punished enough, but after their recent loss, the punishment had become even worse. They deserved it, she knew. They had instigated the battle against Firestar and the Clans. Still, after having witnessed the visions... it was a fate worse than death. Yes, the cats in the Dark Forest were evil, but... they had paid for their sins. Now StarClan was forcing them to continue paying for it, every night and every day.

Feeling brave, she ventured another question. "Shredtail, did you – did you help with the training? Were you there, during that battle?"

The tom, walking a few steps ahead of her, tensed. "Yes," he said at last. "I helped train them. I fought in the battle against the Clans. It was Lionblaze who struck me down."

She was surprised by the amount of information she had offered. "So you've been here a long time," Dawnpaw mewed. She wasn't sure what to think about that. Shredtail had fought ThunderClan. Years ago, he would have hurt her, or a cat like her, without a second thought. Now he was protecting her.

"Yes," he said, voice tight.

"Oh," was all she could manage.

"Dawnpaw..." His voice was strained. "I'm not going to try and justify myself to you. I'm not sorry for what I did. When you're down here – there's not many options. It was a way out and I took it; at least, I tried to."

"What they're... what Thistleclaw's planning... it's a way out too. How come you aren't working with him?" asked Dawnpaw.

"I told you," mewed Shredtail sharply, "I'm done with that. I don't want to be down here anymore. I want redemption, freedom. The surest way to get that is to place you in StarClan's paws."

"You're in this for yourself." Dawnpaw couldn't believe she was asking him this. She expected him to turn at any moment and attack her for daring to question him.

"Of course," he mewed. His voice was rough, bitter, but there was no anger directed at her. "But that doesn't mean I'm not looking out for you. Think of it as a mutual benefit. I get what I want, and you get out of here in one piece."

"Right," said Dawnpaw, falling silent. She wasn't sure what answer she was hoping for, but that wasn't it. She supposed expecting Shredtail to admit to any sort of feeling, or fondness, or altruistic motive was, well, completely unrealistic. Compared to her, he had been around for an eternity. He wasn't about to change in the period of a few weeks.

She looked over at Worm. He had been silent for their whole conversation, walking at the back of the party. He was alert, ears pricked and eyes wide open, looking out for the slightest front. When he caught her gaze, his narrow face contorted into a sneer. "What?"

Dawnpaw frowned. "What was – what was life like, for you?" she asked, cursing her stutter.

"In my time, StarClan didn't interfere with the living's business," said Worm bitterly. "They gave the leaders their lives and the medicine cats their signs, and that was it." He spat on the ground. "It was better that way."

XX XX XX XX

A/N: See, quick update, just like I promised! Merry Christmas to everyone, or happy holidays, whichever you prefer! I can't believe it's here already. I feel completely unprepared. Anyway, Sootclaw was supposed to make an appearance, but I'll save his part for later, sorry. Also, Dawnpaw's changed. I didn't really notice it until I started writing this chapter. Her experiences in the Dark Forest have definitely toughened her up. That said, this is the last we'll see of Dawnpaw for about... hmm... eight chapters, which is a long time. We have plenty of POVs to fill up the space, though. We'll visit everyone again – Sootclaw, Thickfur, Kitetail, Grainstar, Chantelle, and Fogpaw, not necessarily in that order.

The next chapter is Kitetail... again. What was I thinking when I wrote the outline? I've been expanding his role recently though. I didn't see it coming, but I think he's going to start becoming far more important than I had originally intended. This chapter was fairly short, unfortunately, but I liked it. I didn't except Dawnpaw's desire to stay up during the night. That just sort of happened and it was a spur of the moment scene. I'm really glad about how it turned out!

Not many reviews to reply to this chapter. That's what I get for updating on a Friday night, haha.

Honeycloud of RiverClan: He was named Thickkit because he was larger than the others, I would assume :) He' a big guy. Thanks for the review!

Fawndapple1359: Thanks!

Coqui's Song: I'm sure WindClan would figure it out, but by that time, the rogues would be fighting them, and it's not like they can just walk away. It'll be dark, full of scents, and confusing overall - at least, that's what Slatestar's banking on. I'm sorry the Thickfur part was so short! I will definitely make up for it later ;) I love him too much to not keep going back to him, and he didn't get nearly enough angst time in that chapter. Thanks for the review and happy holidays to you too!

Anarchy's Cries: Good suggestion! As for Alder and the others - Chantelle is probably off with Elmheart, and Alder really isn't too inclined to show his face at the moment. We'll see him again next chapter though. I didn't mean to disappoint you with skipping that scene, though, my apologies. What other scenes have I skipped over, haha? Thanks for the great reviews, by the way. You just got caught up and now I'm releasing another chapter - more work for you, I'm afraid. But yeah. You're awesome. Thanks so much!

As to the suggestions of trilogy names: the stories are definitely chess-related. I'm not sure if I've dropped the title of the third one yet, but it is chess related as well, and if I were to ever write a story about Falconswoop's life (though unlikely) it would be called King of the Dark. I'll probably have to look up chess terms then. My story names for this series have a pretty obvious format: (chess-related position of the main character) of the (clan prefix, sometimes pluralized.) Believe it or not, KotS is supposed to be about Sootclaw. His role in the story doesn't really become apparent until later though.

I'm once again struck by the crazy urge to write a new story when this one is taking so long...please talk me out of it! PS, if any of my descriptions in the next few chapters seem lengthy or odd, bear with me. I want to work on my description.

Thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)