CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

It was night when the two apprentices crossed over into RiverClan territory. Fogpaw led the way, her heart leaping with excitement, desperate to be reunited with her Clan once more. Stripedpaw followed behind her, stumblingly over every obstruction that seemed to be in his way. He was slowing her down, turning what should have been a joyous race into a painful march. Fogpaw hadn't realized just how malnourished the young tabby was. His eyes were sunken back into his skull and his bones were painfully obvious underneath his dull fur. Fogpaw was worn too, but she had dealt with it by growing strong, while Stripedpaw had seemed content to just waste away.

The grey she-cat had broken off their mindlink the second she felt it was safe. She hated being in Stripedpaw's mind, hated feeling connected to him, though even outside of it she was still able to hear his thoughts as they whirled around. Fogpaw didn't like the beige tabby. He was scared and selfish, and in a way she pitied him for his weakness. She had been in a terrible situation too, kidnapped for a moon and forced to endure torture, but she had emerged resolute, and it was hard for her to understand why Stripedpaw might not have done the same thing.

Another cat that she probably should have had respect for was Thornfur. Before the darkness, he had been a strong and loyal warrior, competent enough to be named deputy of his Clan. After the initial sadness at his death, and the knowledge she had killed him, Fogpaw had found herself becoming numb to it. She had needed to survive, after all. And what if there was no other way to stop WindClan? What if there was no way to remove the darkness?

What if they all had to die?

Fogpaw immediately stopped, eyes wide, shocked that she would even think such a thing. She was scared that her mind would jump to that, scared even more that it wasn't caused by the darkness but her own honest emotions. Oh, if only she hadn't chased that rabbit across the border... she wondered what her life would have been like if she had just stayed in RiverClan. It would have been normal. Everything would have been different, everything.

"So, what's WindClan like when it's not... like this?" she asked, trying to talk about something lighter. She wanted to hear Stripedpaw tell happy stories from his kithood.

Instead, he just shrugged. "I barely remember. It was spreading, even when I was just a kit... I haven't really had a normal life."

Fogpaw should have felt bad for him, but she didn't. What's wrong with me? She wondered. Maybe she was just too exhausted to care. After seeing her family again, after a long sleep, she would feel better. She would wake up ready to tackle Stripedpaw's emotional burdens. But even looking at his face started to disgust her.

How can I feel like this? Fogpaw thought. Especially after everything she had told Russet, everything she had said about being a good cat. Maybe she would have been a good cat once, but she was too damaged now. Her brain felt like it was just set on survival mode.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she mewed.

"What was yours like?" asked Stripedpaw hesitantly.

Fogpaw felt her eyes glaze over as she lost herself in those happy, hazy memories. "It was the best. I was so happy... being there with my parents and my brother. I thought nothing bad could ever happen but... I guess I was wrong."

"I'm so sorry for what WindClan did to you," he mewed again, still in that shy, quiet voice. "It just wasn't fair..."

"I'm sorry too," said Fogpaw, ending that conversation. It wasn't fair – he wasn't allowed to feel sorry for her, not after what he had done to betray her. Part of her hadn't even wanted to save him, but as much as she was starting to dislike him – now that he wasn't her only hope for survival – she knew taking him along was the right thing to do. That was where she was at right now – doing the right thing, but not necessarily liking it. "Come on, let's go."

They picked up the pace slightly, but she could tell Stripedpaw wasn't used to the marshy ground and the thistles and reeds that pulled at his fur. He looked uncomfortable, his eyes as big as saucers and his ears wide and swivelling, both of which made him look like an oversized bat. She felt a stirring of tired sympathy in her heart as she ran out of energy to be angry with him.

It was the middle of the night, so she doubted there would be any patrols to meet them along the way. They would just have to walk into camp and talk to the guard – not exactly the homecoming that Fogpaw had imagined. She had always thought she would run home into the middle of the day, bursting into camp, and everyone would immediately see her and rejoice and her parents would rush over and hold her and – Oh, StarClan, she missed them so badly.

"Do you..." Stripedpaw started, swallowing. "Do you think Toadstar will be okay with... with me?"

"Well where else are you going to go?" Fogpaw retorted, slightly irritated. "Toadstar will understand. We all know there's something... odd... about WindClan. Just try not to tell them that you got me killed, alright?"

"You're not dead," said Stripedpaw.

Fogpaw shot him a tired glance. For some reason – she wanted to call it miraculous but it probably had more to do with the darkness than with StarClan – she had survived drowning in the lake. But her body had been dead. However it worked, that was what had happened. "No," she said, at last. Not anymore.

As they approached camp, she signalled for him to be silent. Fogpaw had to take care to contain her excitement. To be home again was all she had ever wanted. Now, she let her hearing spread out in front of her, trying to determine who was guarding the camp. Goldenfur's thoughts came crawling back to her. They were simple, normal thoughts that Fogpaw envied. Goldenfur was tired and hungry, and idly thinking about a ThunderClan tom she had seen at the last Gathering.

They were so close! Fogpaw led Stripedpaw over a small hill, and then they found themselves between a tiny, wandering trickle of water that would lead them to the clearing that was RiverClan camp. As they followed the small stream, she began to make out familiar shapes in the distance – the camp walls made of reeds and rushes, the shape of the dens, and then there at the entrance – Goldenfur.

And then Fogpaw couldn't contain herself anymore.

She bounded forward, "Goldenfur!"

The long-furred warrior looked up and Fogpaw heard all of her thoughts slip away, replace by disbelief as she stared at the fluffy grey apprentice. "Fogpaw!" was all Goldenfur managed to say, scrambling to her paws as she looked on in awe. "You're... you're home."

Fogpaw nodded. "I... I made it back."

Goldenfur pressed her muzzle against Fogpaw's shoulder and breathed in, as if wanting to make sure this wasn't a dream. Then she pulled back and frowned as she caught sight of Stripedpaw. "Who's that?"

Fogpaw realized it may look as if she had decided to elope for a moon with the skinny excuse for a cat behind her. "That's Stripedpaw," she mewed. "He escaped with me from WindClan."

"Escape from WindClan?" Goldenfur repeated dumbly. "What's going on?"

"It's a long story," Fogpaw mewed. "Bring me to Toadstar so I can tell him, and then go wake up the rest of the Clan." The orders fell from her mouth naturally. She might just be a young apprentice, but after what had happened to her, she wasn't in the mood to mess around. Stripedpaw, who hadn't been included in her plan, waited awkwardly behind her.

Goldenfur looked lost, and Fogpaw bet the she-cat had never anticipated this kind of situation, but the RiverClan warrior did as she was told and led Fogpaw over to Toadstar's den as Stripedpaw loitered behind them. Goldenfur poked her head in the leader's den. "Toadstar? I'm sorry to wake you, it's – "

"Fogpaw!" She was interrupted by another voice, strong and powerful and yet scared and in awe. It was Reedthroat, nearly barrelling through camp in order to reach his long-lost daughter. His eyes were wide and he skidded to a stop in front of her, clearly trying to decide whether or not to bury his face in her fur or act like a mature and responsible deputy. Fogpaw saw the conflict in her father's eyes and she gave into the ache, pressing herself against his side and letting herself tremble.

Letting herself be weak.

She was home again.

His scent warmed and comforted her, and she almost let out a cry as he pulled back. The pale tabby, usually so strong and composed, looked weak and shaken. His eyes were tired and his face sallow with worry, but there was a spark of energy returning now. Reedthroat looked down at her in wonder. "Fogpaw, I've been so worried. What happened to you?"

"It's a long story," she muttered, not ready to move away from her father's closeness. "It's WindClan, they're evil, they... there's something bad there..."

She had felt like an adult for so long, trapped in WindClan and then escaping and rescuing Stripedpaw. She had felt like a warrior, in charge of herself, but here, back in RiverClan, she felt normal again. She was a young apprentice, only seven moons, scared and lost and relying on her father for comfort.

But it couldn't last forever.

"Come with me," Reedthroat said. "Let's go wake your mother."

Fogpaw shook her head. "I have to talk to Toadstar. You should come too, since you're deputy."

Reedthroat blinked in surprise, clearly not used to taking orders from his daughter. But the handsome tom seemed to realized the gravity of the situation because in the end he just nodded. Then his eyes fixed on Stripedpaw. "Who's that?"

"Stripedpaw. He escaped with me from WindClan," she mewed, giving the same answer she had given Goldenfur. "Can you show him around and get him settled?" she asked the she-cat. Goldenfur looked at her in surprise, then looked up at Reedthroat, who nodded in affirmation.

As they padded into Toadstar's den, Reedthroat touched her flank with his tail. "I don't know what happened to you, but... you can't give orders like that, Fogpaw. It's not your place."

She shrugged him off. He had no idea what she had been through. To him, she was barely more than a kit, but the darkness had changed her and shaped her into this, and she wasn't going to let her age stop the others from respecting who she had become.

Toadstar was already awake, roused by the noise. His eyes fixed on Fogpaw and his face lit up in pure happiness. "You're back!" he mewed. The tom looked far more tired than Fogpaw had remembered, reminding her of Rowanstar. She had barely known the former RiverClan leader and only had snippets of her in her memory, but they both just seemed so tired.

"Hello," said Fogpaw quietly, ready to delve into her story. She just wanted it to be over. She wanted to go to bed and have Toadstar and Reedthroat deal with this while she returned to her normal life. That had been her dream for so long. But she felt tendrils of darkness slithering in her mind, the remnants of a terrible torture, and realized things would never be normal again.

"What happened?" asked Toadstar quietly, giving her the freedom to speak, and she took it.

Fogpaw drew in a deep breath, ready to explain everything. "The day I went missing... I was chasing a rabbit too far and I went onto WindClan territory. I was caught, but instead of receiving a warning or a reprimand, I was knocked out and brought back to camp. When I was there... they did terrible things to me, Toadstar, to my mind. There's some kind of darkness in all of them, possessing them. They attacked ThunderClan; I think they want to attack every Clan. They wanted to make me one of them, but I resisted somehow, and I finally managed to escape." She left out the part about drowning in the lake. "Stripedpaw... he was there too. The darkness hadn't spread to him so we helped each other escape."

They were both silent for a very long time. Fogpaw shot her father a glance. He looked murderously angry at the thought that she had been hurt. "I kept thinking of you," she said quietly. "You and Morningstep and Rainpaw. It's the only thing that kept me going." Reedthroat let out a huge sigh but said nothing, only swinging his massive head from side to side.

To her surprised, Toadstar seemed to believe her instantly. "We've known something has been wrong with WindClan for awhile now, though I never thought it was something so terrible. I'll send patrols to inform the other leaders – we should meet soon to discuss this." He paused. "Fogpaw, you've been through a terrible ordeal. You need to rest."

But she couldn't rest. She could never rest again. Her body vibrated with angry energy, and she couldn't do anything about it, so Fogpaw simply bowed her head. "Yes, Toadstar."

He smiled softly, and it was worn and sad but it was still there. "You've been very brave, Fogpaw. And tell Stripedpaw that of course it is alright if he stays."

Fogpaw nodded again and then Reedthroat was ushering her out of Toadstar's den, back towards the centre of camp where the rest of her family stood waiting. There they were, staring at her in disbelief. Morningstep and Rainpaw. Her brother, her arrogant, obnoxious brother, looked to be on the verge of breaking down. He ran toward her first, barrelling into her, pressing his muzzle into her fur. "I thought you were dead," he said, and she could hear the sob in his voice. "I thought you were dead."

Rainpaw had thought she was dead and all Fogpaw could think was: stop crying. She was numb.

Morningstep came next, pressing against her, licking her cheek and forehead. "I missed you so much. My beautiful, brave daughter. I'm so glad you've come back to us," she said softly, breathing in Fogpaw's scent. "We were all so worried. I'm so scared this is just a dream, I'm so scared..."

Why couldn't she feel anything? Why couldn't she feel sad for worrying them and ecstatic to have returned? Fogpaw stood there, feeling completely disconnected from her family, a heavy weight in her heart. Maybe this ordeal would never truly be over.

She licked Morningstep's cheek and bumped shoulders with Rainpaw. "I missed you too," she mewed. "You helped me get through." It wasn't a lie, and yet she had already abandoned her prayer. "Now... now I just need some sleep."

Goldenfur padded up behind her. "I've set up nests for you and Stripedpaw in the apprentices den, Fogpaw. You too, Rainpaw," she informed them quietly, trying not to intrude on the family moment.

When Fogpaw shot her brother a questioning look, he shrugged. "The den was too empty. I couldn't sleep there. I slept in the nursery," Rainpaw admitted sheepishly. Her big, brave brother... sleeping in the nursery while Fogpaw had slept in a pit in the ground.

There was nothing more she wanted to say. She had been so excited to come home but the reality had fallen flat before her expectations. Fogpaw felt empty, and all she wanted to do was sleep, bury herself in happier dreams. Maybe she would feel better when she woke up.

They all went to their nests in silence, curling up in the moss. Fogpaw felt exhausted and she crashed into her bed, expecting sleep to take her immediately. But it didn't.

And it still didn't.

And even as she waited, eyes closed, empty mind, she found sleep just wouldn't come. A terrible thought came to her. What if I can never sleep again? What if the darkness had done something to her? What if this was one of the changes?

No. It couldn't be.

No.

Fogpaw tried again. She wanted to sleep. She willed it with every fibre of her body. But as it continued to evade her, she was left listless and angry. Her mind started to wander, crawling over Rainpaw and his thoughts, which ticked slowly inside his head, dreams forming and breaking in instants. She could tell that as excited as he was for her to return, he could tell something was off, and there was a soft sadness in his chest.

Then she went over to Stripedpaw. He was asleep, but his dreams were worried and frantic. Words went off in his head. Three days. Fogpaw frowned. What was supposed to happen then? She tried to listen harder and got images of WindClan, preparing for another attack.

Three days.

She woke him up. "Stripedpaw!" she hissed.

"What?" he mumbled groggily, unhappy to be woken.

"Is WindClan going to attack again in three days?" she hissed.

"Hmm?" he said, a little incoherent. "Oh. Yeah, yeah, they were talking about attacking ShadowClan, I think..."

"WindClan is going to attack ShadowClan in three days and you didn't tell anyone." She couldn't believe it.

"I didn't think it was important," said Stripedpaw timidly. "I mean, we're in RiverClan now."

Oh StarClan, what was she going to do with Stripedpaw? "I can't believe you," she snapped at him, getting to her paws. "Come on. We have to tell Toadstar. He has to warn them."

"Can't we tell him in the morning?" Stripedpaw begged with a yawn.

He was literally the worst. "No," Fogpaw hissed. "Now get up. Toadstar needs to know now so he can make a decision."

WindClan was going to attack ShadowClan in three days, and Fogpaw knew that if ShadowClan wasn't ready, well...

That would be it.

x x x

It had been a day since he had rescued Fogpaw, almost a day since he had run away from the ritual. All Russet could think about was the sight of the flame-pointed kittypet on the slab of rock and the way his stomach had twisted in complete disgust. He had known at that moment that he couldn't do it, that he couldn't be one of them. He had wanted to be recognized, to be respected, but he had never wanted to commit violence just for the sake of violence. Not like they did...

I swore to protect the weak. If only he had been given a chance to say those words aloud under StarClan. If only Toadstripe had understood why Russet had made the choices he did. He had just wanted to protect RiverClan, that was all. But they had never understood, never appreciated his sacrifice...

The ginger tom had spent the last day skirting around Clan territory, trying to avoid being seen by any patrols. He was also worried about being followed by one of the rogue – Baron had let him go, saying he was interested, and that made Russet sure that the rogue leader was going to try to keep an eye on him. But the real reason Russet had been skulking around the ShadowClan border was because he was working up the courage to talk to one cat in particular.

A cat that he had hated more than anything.

A cat that he perceived to have stolen everything from him.

Sootpaw.

He had initially thought of Sootpaw as the worst, a cat who had been arrogant and pretentious and somehow lucky enough to be respected by his Clan, unlike Russet who had always strived for that attention. Lilypaw had taken a liking to Sootpaw as well, which had driven Russet crazy. But somehow Sootpaw had managed to defeat Falconswoop, something Russet had been too weak to do. Maybe Sootpaw could teach him something. How to be strong, but in the right way.

To be completely honest, Russet had no real idea what he was doing. But he couldn't go back, and he didn't know what would happen if he just kept running. Part of him was desperate to beg forgiveness from Toadstripe and Lilypaw, some farfetched fantasy playing in his head about being accepted back to RiverClan. Fogpaw would be there, she would vouch for him, and then Lilypaw – or whatever her warrior name was – would welcome him back with open arms and Toadstripe would grudgingly forgive him.

But Russet didn't feel ready for that yet. He had to earn it, had to redeem himself. He knew he could – he was strong and powerful. All he needed was a chance to prove himself. He wasn't quite sure how Sootpaw would offer him that, but there would be some way. He wasn't ready to go back to RiverClan – but when he did return, he would return a hero.

So now he stood on the edge of ShadowClan territory, pacing around the border, desperately hoping he hadn't been followed. The sun was setting and the shadows cast unfamiliar shapes on the snow around him. It was cold, though warmer than the previous night, which he had spent curled up in underneath the roots of an upturned tree, afraid to close his eyes in case Baron found him and made sure he never opened them again. Now, however, he felt a little stronger, a little more sure of himself. The scent of ShadowClan was acrid and it stung his mouth, reminding him of Falconswoop and making his stomach turn on itself. The wind drifted lazily through his thick ginger fur and but he refused to doubt himself. This was the right thing to do. He had to seek redemption, had to put himself back on the right path. Russet knew that he could have been so great. He could have a hero, a champion of RiverClan, could have one day been Russetstar... but he had made one bad decision, one weak decision – to bargain with Falconswoop instead of fighting him like Sootpaw did.

He couldn't go on comparing himself to Sootpaw. Once he did this, once he had proved himself, he would finally be a peace, to become the warrior he had always wanted to be... because while Russet had hid it for so long, being a warrior had been his dream. Not a rogue. Never a rogue... all he had wanted was to be respected, but as he thought of the kittypet lying there with his plump, exposed stomach... killing that tom wouldn't have earned him any respect from anyone who actually mattered.

Russet closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he opened them again he was ready. He took a confident step onto ShadowClan territory, trying to ignore their terrible scent. He kept in the shadows, staying along the shrubs and the bracken, waiting for a patrol to go by. He didn't know what he would say, didn't know how to explain himself. He was looking for help, really, but had no way to convince them to give it to him.

The ginger rogue didn't have to wait long for a stronger ShadowClan scent to sweep by him, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized it was the scent he had hoping for and dreading at the same time – Sootpaw. Words failed him and he took another moment to steady himself. Weakness was not allowed. Never allowed.

There was another scent with him, one that Russet didn't recognize. He didn't care. He took a deep breath and strode out from the bushes, emerging in front of the ShadowClan patrol. The rogue took care to make himself seem nonthreatening, but strong and able all the same. "Sootpaw," he greeted, before the two cats could react. He barely saw them before the words left his mouth – then his eyes focused and he saw Sootpaw, all grown up and muscular and strong, amber eyes hard and defensive. He was so different – he must be a warrior now, Russet was sure. The cat with him was smaller, with a mess of white and grey fur, a bit of kit fat hanging off his face and belly.

"It's Sootclaw," corrected the small cat, trying to sound sassy though fear was evident in his voice. "He's a warrior."

Russet saw surprise light up Sootclaw's face at this before the grey warrior turned back to him, eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, Russetpaw?"

"This is Russetpaw?" whispered the young tom to Sootclaw, but it wasn't quiet enough and Russet could hear every word as it stung him. "The Russetpaw?"

"Yes, Pigeonpaw, now hush," said Sootclaw, signalling to be silent with his tail as he waited for Russet's answer.

Russet took a deep breath. This was the moment. He had to impress upon Sootclaw just how desperate he was for a chance to redeem himself, a chance to be better. He had to swallow his pride, hard as it was, and appeal to the grey warrior's better nature. "I'm here because I'm sorry, Sootclaw," he mewed quietly. "I always thought I did the right thing, but it wasn't – it wasn't strong, and I want to be strong. I want to be brave and respected; another chance. You had the strength to stand up to Falconswoop. You were brave. I... I want to be like that. I want to be better and I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Sootclaw's eyes searched his face. He could tell the grey tom was hesitant to believe him, but at least there was no obvious malice in his eyes. Russet felt his stomach begin to churn. He had just opened himself up to his worst enemy more than he had to any other cat. His deep insecurities came flooding out. He had finally realized what he wanted to do, but was it too late? After taking a long breath, Sootclaw finally spoke. "What do you think I can do for you? Just take you to ShadowClan, pretend everything is fine?"

"I don't know," Russet admitted, words that were hard for him to say. He tried to think of a good answer as Pigeonpaw stared at him with wide-eyed fascination. "I just want a chance to prove myself. Anything."

Something seemed to click in Sootclaw's eyes and then, to Russet's surprise, he nodded. "Alright. Come with me."

Pigeonpaw frowned. "You're really letting him come back to camp? A traitor?"

"It's okay," said Sootclaw quietly. "I know what I'm doing." Pigeonpaw looked like he wanted to argue, but then remembered himself and fell silent, though he didn't miss the chance to shoot Russet a distrustful glance.

"Thank you, Sootclaw," said Russet, never thinking he would say those words. "And it's Russet now."

Sootclaw just grunted. Russet could tell that there was a lot on his mind and so he fell silent, wondering how on earth he had ever gotten to this point. As much as he had hated Sootpaw, he had to admit that as a warrior, Sootclaw seemed to have it together.

.

When they got back to camp, there was no time for Sootclaw to announce Russet. The ginger tom was preparing to face a lot of questions and angry looks, but instead everyone was distracted, crowding around the platform where Eaglestar stood, a worried look on his face. "What's going on?" Russet asked Sootclaw, who shushed him without a second thought. It irked the former rogue slightly, but he could tell that something was really wrong here.

He looked around ShadowClan camp, remembering the last time he had been here, when Falconswoop had asked him to kill Hailstripe... Russet remembered looking down at the white tom and being unable to do it, nausea rising in his stomach. Even then he hadn't been a killer, but evidently he hadn't learned his lesson. Still, being back here made him feel physically weak.

Russet stood at the back of the crowd, Sootclaw beside him, though Pigeonpaw went to try and push his way to the front. As he looked around, Russet recognized so many cats... Redfur, Greywing, Flowerpaw... though she would be a warrior now too. And then he noticed something strange, a familiar scent that didn't belong among the peat and loam and muck of ShadowClan – a scent that reminded him of home.

RiverClan.

There, at the front, he saw them. His former Clanmates. Hazelthorn, Oaktail, and Whitestream. They hadn't noticed him and so he shrunk away, trying to be invisible. Would they even recognize him from this distance? Did they even think of him, now and then, sad and wistful? The one cat he had hoped to see when he had scented them wasn't there. Lilypaw, he thought, wondering what she would be like now, how she had grown up.

Then Eaglestar spoke. "The RiverClan patrol has come to warn us of an attack from WindClan, similar to the one that was attempted on ThunderClan. It will occur in two days from now. We need to be ready."

"How can they be sure?" yowled Greywing. He looked nervous, pacing around from side to side.

It was Whitestream who spoke up, her quiet voice carrying confidently across the clearing. "Our apprentice – my apprentice – who went missing, Fogpaw, recently returned to us. She had been kidnapped by WindClan, but managed to escape. She brought back a warning of their next attack and it would be foolish not to heed it."

Eaglestar nodded. "According to her, WindClan is consumed by some kind of darkness. It will take all our strength to fight them, which is why I will be sending a message to ThunderClan and asking for their help. Sootclaw, would you like to go?"

Beside him, Sootclaw started. "Of course, Eaglestar."

Eaglestar's gaze shifted over to the spot beside Sootclaw where Russet had been, but the ginger tom had slunk away, back out of camp and into the dark woods just outside it. He didn't want to be noticed, not now, not while everyone was here. They would talk to Eaglestar alone, later, when RiverClan was gone.

Still, part of Russet was excited. It seemed like his timing was perfect – a big battle against WindClan? It was the perfect opportunity to prove himself. He would fight to protect ShadowClan, he would be heralded for his bravery, and he would at last be able to return to RiverClan.

As he stood there, contemplating his newly bright future, the tom thought he heard a noise behind him. When he turned, however, nothing was there – just the darkness of the night and the soft whispering of the wind.

XX XX XX XX

A/N: Alright, my NaNo is on track! As I write this I'm half done the next chapter as well. I know I'm pumping them out pretty fast but reviews are always still appreciated :3 This chapter is a little (aka a lot) longer than I meant, but I'm working on my outline and trying to fix it up so the ending happens concisely and still makes sense. Only five chapters left! I can't believe it, I'm kinda terrified to finish! Also, because this is NaNo and I haven't written in a year, some plot lines might not get dealt with perfectly, but anything that doesn't make sense will get explained in the next book (which I will have to dedicate all my NaNos too if I want to finish, heh.)

Thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)