Chapter 41: Sins and Virtues

I looked back with surprise at Splitpelt. He just namedropped a founder, the most infamous one, and the one I felt the most possible kinship with. I turned back to look at the elderly tom, and he had some familiar traits I'd seen in Thunderclan. Those powerful shoulders meant for climbing trees, those eyes, so sharp, meant for picking out prey from a distance, and those toned haunches for making leaps other clans wouldn't dare try. These traits were a part of Thunderclan, but none manifested singularly in one cat as much as it did for this Skystar. I received powerful front leg striking muscles from these traits. I must have been of some descent of his.

"You… You look familiar, but also like nothing I've ever seen," mewed Skystar, rising to a seated position.

I let Splitpelt speak instead of taking charge. This was something important to him.

"I am what is known as an amalgam. I'm made up of pieces Starclan cast out made one. The familiarity you feel is likely due to where my pieces originate. I am an amalgam of Thunderstar, Windstar, Riverstar, and Shadowstar. I am the pieces they felt detracted from their ability to lead. I am their flaws conglomerated, and yet I am me, my own cat. I am Splitpelt, amalgam of the founders, and follower of Mapleshade, Mother of the Darkforest."

Skystar let out a rasping chuckle. "Indeed. You are and aren't them, but you are incorrect. The others may believe you are pieces of their corruptions and sins, but I've always known. There is no such thing as a purely bad trait. Where others see lust, I see passion. Sloth is just ingenuity. Wrath is protectiveness. Envy ambition, Pride contentment, gluttony survival, greed change. These things cats see as evil are only half the truth. Just like everything else, it is how it is used that decides if it is evil."

"You seem rather friendly for a cat sent to the Darkforest." Replied Splitpelt.

"Sent? No. I came here willingly. You make this place sound like a punishment. This place you call the Darkforest used to be just the place where things were put away. This was a place to contemplate and escape the stagnancy of paradise. Now they are using it as a means of exile? Those fools have done it again. Do they not realize the power of this place, the secrets buried within? Since you are the truest parts of my old comrades, I'll let you in on a secret about this place. This place was meant for something greater than catkind. This is the womb from which something greater will be born, something to finally rid us of that blight Starclan lets fester in their paradise. I've already felt the fetal god take form. Soon the godling will become whole and become either our savior or our damnation." Rambled Skystar in an almost prophetic madness.

Something about this encounter was changing Skystar. It seemed every heartbeat of action ate at whatever remained of his soul, like he'd been in stasis all this time and waking himself up meant all the decay he was meant to receive was coming on all at once. His form was starting to fade and become transparent.

"Skystar! What is happening? You're disappearing!" Yowled Splitpelt in both shock and fear. Despite how he felt some level of hatred for Skystar, he did still see him as a friend.

"Dear Splitpelt. Things happen for a reason. I've kept still, unchanging and unmoving, but the soul was never meant to stagnate. I'm glad I didn't get to fade away alone, but if you are what you say you are, I have one last gift for you. Take on whatever remains of me, Skystar the belligerent, and find the godling. They'll need a guiding paw for what is to come. Your duty as the best parts of the founders is to make sure they become a benign god. Serve us well and save us all." Mewed Skystar one final time, pressing his paw against Splitpelt's chest.

Skystar disappeared in a flash of light. The bubble faded into nothingness without its power source. The only thing that remained of Skystar's camp was the mock obelisk, which began crumbling to dust like the wear of aging caught up to it all at once. When Splitpelt turned to face us, I noticed a sew patch on him. He had a light grey patch starting just under his chin running down his belly, twisting into his tail with a peppering of his other pelt colors mixing in. Beyond the color change, something else felt off about Splitpelt, but not in a bad way. As I've mentioned before, amalgams always have this feeling of tugging because their pieces are never truly in sync, but Splitpelt didn't feel like that anymore. He felt… whole. The conflictions his personalities generated were smoothed over. It was like he was a natural born cat.

I had to ask, "Splitpelt? How do you feel?"

"I feel… more. It's hard to explain. I'll try anyway. Imagine some sticks sitting close together. You can tie them together to get a bigger stick, the act of tying them makes the stick weaker. What I feel now is like the sticks just unified into one big stick, no tying involved, just one whole somehow made up of the many parts. I don't feel myself stretching as pieces of me try to go their own path. I don't feel the need to hold council with myself. I just feel like me, not Thunderstar, Riverstar, Windstar, Shadowstar, or even Skystar. I feel like Splitpelt."

I circled him slowly with curiosity in my eyes. "And what does Splitpelt feel like?"

Then I felt it, that familiar bloody lust wafting off his form. I don't know how we do it, but we have this way of giving each other both flirty and snarling looks. My own heat was rising, and Frecklewish mast have noticed. She joined in the circling, not getting near as much out of this as Splitpelt and I, but she seemed thrilled at the prospect of a fight.

"I feel like it's time to make due on your promise. It's time to have some fun."

A twisted grin lit up his face and I aimed to match it. What an odd group of cats we are, tearing into each other one moment and making love the next, but I wouldn't have it any other way.